#he's just a thirsty ass bitch desperate for attention

[dilfhos]

*busts down your door* OKAY LISTEN HERE. I DONT SIMP FOR TOJI BUT I WANT YOU TO HAVE FUN AND CREATE CHAOS SO THIRSTY ASK: TOJI HUMILIATING READER CAUSE SHE WANTS TO RIDE THAT DICK SO BAD BUT HE WONT LET HER 😭😭😭😭

for meeeeeee? :O

WHO: TOJI FUSHIGURO x FEM!READER

+degradation, dacryphilia, dirty talk, overstim, use of bitch (half affectionate or not idc >:)), brat-taming.

MINORS + ageless blogs DNI.

You think it’s over. He’s finally given you what you want and you’re grinning…

“No,” Toji suppresses the urge to grin at the sight of your reactions, his hands only coming up to brush away the ones gripped on his shirt. “Not in the mood t’night.”

You sit back, palms spread across the expanse of his chest as you peer up at him. He offers a scowl in return before his hips are bucking, a signal for you to get off. Flopping beside him in defeat, you glare at the magazine he deemed more important than what you were offering. Baiting. And needing.

“Why’re you being like this?” He sighs emphatically as if your very presence in the shared bedroom was a complete hindrance to the mundane task of reading at ten in the evening.

“Why’re you actin’ like you call the shots? It’s a turn-off y’know?” He sneers.

“You’re a turn-off,” You mumble half-heartedly. He’s intentionally silent.

Toji’s left you unsatisfied for weeks, his grumbles of work becoming redundantly annoying. It only drives the desperation and lowers your dignity as you find yourself overwhelmed with need for just an inkling of his attention.

To him, it was one of many games he enjoyed playing in way of fucking with your head. Oh, how you looked with dumbstruck eyes as he brushed you off as any other woman and not his lover, The gears in your head turning as you tried desperately to force your way back into his arms. His curt responses and blatant rejection only fueled you to push harder. He enjoyed shoving you to the brink of crumbling, only for him to grip all your pieces back together.

Your brazen shows were adorably tempting but not enough for him to loosen his resolve. (Not yet.)

Like now, as you’ve deliberately flexed your body toward your nightstand to retrieve your water. The shirt—his shirt—rises up over your hips to expose the cheeky thong embedded between your ass and Toji’s eyes move to the back of your head until you turn around, an incredulous expression on his face.

“Desperate huh,”

“I don’t know what you mean,” You shrug, eyes darting away. “‘M not gonna force you to be intimate, I’ll just find someone else to occupy my time. Maybe G-”

“Look at you, fuckin’ slut.” He places his reading material on the nightstand as he stands. “You’re pouting and baiting after I said no to touching your little cunt. Why don’t you go fuck yourself, hm?” There’s an amused lilt to his words as his brow twitches implicitly.

You frown, thighs flexing at his cruel, harsh tone, completely unfazed. Why would you waste time with your toys when you could have the real thing in all its thick, heavy glory?

Toji was absolute in his decisions up until now, never looking your way all week in your skimp sets and not bothering to say anything to your advances. But when you tried to act innocent or even worse, play on his emotions, it made him wanna see you cry.

Literally.

It’s why his grip is so bruising and his body is hard stone as he looms over your trembling body, ecstatic at the fat tears rolling down your swollen cheeks.

“It’s t’much!”

“Too much she says,” He chuckles, a maniacal grin on his face. He merely shoves your punily fumbling hands aside, attacking your swollen clit with his calloused thumb. “No, I think this is exactly enough. For needy little bitches like you?”

Your hips rear off the bed electrified, tears falling as you slap at his wrists in desperation.

“Won’t do it again! T’much….TOJI!”

“Mhm, lemme hear you again slut,” His hand strikes firmly against your tits, the sting sending your body squirming. His fingers are merciless as they pinch and pull at your taut nipples, his grin only widening when he feels you coming undone.

Your essence flows like a flood, drenching his arm and sheets in downpour. He’s still going, arm flexing with finesse as his fingers rub against your ridges, that abused spot inside you making more tears fall.

“Please, no more! N’more!” Your cunt squelches as it weeps around his digits, your frantic whines falling on uncaring ears. Your legs splay instinctively in an attempt to kick him off but he’s shoving them away, crawling over you with his weight.

“Stop moving. You asked for this,” He grumbles, pinning your wrist under his large palm. His others is shoving your sticky thighs apart again, exposing your sloppy cunt to the cool air. You’re too stunned to realize the fat head of his cock slickening your folds until he’s shoving himself in, grip tightening on your wrists when you buck off the bed. His hand smushes your damp cheeks together, drinking in your disheveled state as his stroke begin, punishable.

“Oh baby, look at me now. Talk for me like you were doing earlier,” he cooed wickedly, your blubbering incoherent.

“‘M sorry, please!” You’re not sure whether you’re begging him to stop or ravage you more, you’re only stuck on the overbearing pressure building in your tummy again. His cock is fat and heavy as it drags through your slobbering cunt, the paps of skin deafening over your whines.

“Keep crying, just gonna make me fuck ya’ harder, heh.” He releases you, hands palming your thighs flush against the mattress as he thrusts into you. The bed rattles on its legs as you cry his name, the noises around him synonymous to his own growls.

“Take it. Take daddy’s fat dick baby, I wanna see you cryin’” You’re clinging to his wrists, your whining incoherent as your vision doubles with tears. There’s a blurry Toji above you, grinning down like a fucked god at its prize, watching as you cry and squirm in his grip. It isn’t until his hand comes up to snake around your jaw when you’re mumbling promises that you’ll be good from now on. That you’ll love him forever no matter how mean he is! That no one ever compares to Toji! Not even him!

“‘M cumming! T-Toji!” It isn’t until his hand delivers a quick succession of pats against your wet cheek does your cunt clamp him in like a vice. He grunts as you grab him, wrapping your arms around his thick neck, your heels digging into the small of his back as you tug him close. His nut jets into you, Toji’s hips shallowly grinding against your ass. He stills momentarily, face nuzzling the side of your damp neck before he rises.

You think its over. He’s finally given you what you want and you’re grinning. A fucked-out mess, sighing blissfully as you prepare to move. In one lithe motion however, he has you by your ankle as you’re now on your stomach, face smushed into the mattress by his palm.

“Now tell me again about Gojo.”

DILFOS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE MY CONTENT—CURRENT OR ARCHIVAL.

[drwcn]

discordance!verse part 7: an interesting morning in jingshi, Lan Wangji is shameless, much to the shock of Wei Wuxian. rated M??T??

in which wwx is lxc’s husband through political alliance, and there is an affair. 

[8] | [7] | [6] | [5] | [4] | [3] | [2] | [1] [synopsis] OR

see [discau tag] or [discordance navigation page] for all installments  

(~10 days before part 5/6)

Wei Wuxian wakes up slowly, warm and comfortable. The first thing he sees is the green bamboo shoots past the white tulle curtains, just outside the window, and the droplet of dew glistening under the morning sun. It had rained some time during the early hours; he recalls drifting to sleep listening to the muffled pitter-patter against Jingshi's roof, Lan Zhan curled at his side…

Lan Zhan is still there, fast asleep, as though he hasn't moved an inch all night. He is pressed against Wei Wuxian's shoulder, one arm thrown across his chest, every even breath a gentle breeze across his neck.

Even in sleep, Lan Zhan is a vision. That peerless face which others find cold and intimidating, is relaxed and open. Thick lashes kiss pink flushed cheeks. Soft full lips part minutely, still a bit swollen. Long silk hair runs like ink between Wei Wuxian's fingers.

He releases a soft affectionate huff, pulling the covers more securely around them both. Wei Wuxian closes his eyes, ready to indulge in sleep for another couple more hours. He doesn't know why they don't do this more often, it's so nice…

Wait!

His eyes snap open, all thoughts of sleep vanishing instantly.

Fuck! We slept in!

There's a very good reason why he and Lan Zhan never wake up warm, coddled together in a patch of morning sun like two aristocratic cats: it's because Cloud Recesses' rules are fucking nightmares - and also because he and Lan Zhan are technically, technically in an illicit affair - but mostly because of Cloud Recesses’ rules. Lan Zhan always has to get up at a quarter before mao-shi to sneak back to hanshi so he could continue the charade of having woken up in the bed he definitely didn't sleep in.

Judging by the angle of sunlight spilling into the room, it must be at least si-shi by now, a whole two shichen later than when Lan Zhan is usually up and about…

Oh ffffffuuuck -

Dap, dap, dap!

There are three polite knocks at the door. A disciple's hesitant voice echoes from the other side.

"W-Wei-jun? Are you in there?"

He can hear the anxiety clearly in their tone. Because of course they must be frantic! Lan Zhan's secretarial disciple would've gone in to bring him his breakfast, like he does every morning, and discovered Hanguang-jun's bed and sheets as cold as ice and Lan Wangji himself nowhere to be found.

It's been at least four hours, Cloud Recesses must be having a full blown panic attack by now!!

Wei Wuxian jolts up from bed and is torn between feeling sorry and amazed when that exaggerated movement only manages to elicit an incoherent grumble from Lan Zhan.

Oblivious to Wei Wuxian's impending meltdown, Lan Wangji curls a little deeper into the covers, but does not wake up. 

No time to worry about that, Wei Wuxian yanks the covers over Lan Wangji's head to cover him and pads across the matted floor to the clothing rack. He can't answer the door even if he wants to; he's completely fucking naked.

Wei Wuxian is just about finished with the ties of his second layer of robes when the disciple speaks again,  

"Wei-jun?! Are you in there?! Many apologies for disturbing you…but - but it's urgent! Please, could you open the door?"

For the first time since the death of his husband, Wei Wuxian is glad for his widower status. As the previous Sect Master's yishu 遗属, it would be bad etiquette for lower disciples to barge into his private residence without invite. Not that any of them would be capable: the seal Wei Wuxian placed on the inside of the door last night is an invention of his own. He's confident that no more than a dozen cultivators of their time can break it without expending serious spiritual energy.

Thank goodness last-night-me had the foresight to do that…

Though, he does wonder why it's a bunch of disciples and not someone like Lan Qiren knocking on his door. His nerves calm by half a fraction. If they're coming to me, perhaps they haven't directed this particular issue to higher authorities. Probably doesn't want to give the grandpas an impromptu stroke by declaring Lan Zhan missing…

Wei Wuxian shrugs on his outer layer, and in the calmest, most put-upon voice he can manage, he answers, "What is it? I am feeling poorly this morning."

"Begging your pardon, Wei-jun, it's just…Hanguang-jun, uhm, we can't find Hanguang-jun."

Glancing behind his shoulder, Wei Wuxian winces as he sees Lan Wangji stirring, turning onto his back and shoving the covers out of the way.

"Ah, yes, Hanguang-jun," replies Wei Wuxian, channeling his inner Lan Qiren and attempting his most authoritative tone of voice. "Sect Master has informed me that he’s gone on a…a meditative trek. It's been some time since he's been able to cultivate in peace. He will be returning shortly. No need…no need to worry the Elders."

Through the thin walls, he hears a collective sigh of relief.

"Thank goodness. Forgive us for disturbing you, Wei-jun. If you're feeling unwell, should a healer be sent for -"

"No! No, that's quite alright. I'll be fine. Return to your studies. Do not dally." Wei Wuxian quickly dismisses the disciples. 

Ear pressed against the door, he listens to their footsteps walking away until he can't hear anything but the sparrows chirping in the woods. Letting out the breath he’s been holding anxiously in his chest, Wei Wuxian pads himself in relief.

Crisis averted.

When he turns around, Lan Wangji is sitting up in bed, staring dazedly at him.

"I slept in. It's very late, isn't it?"

The sight of him like that, blankets gathered at the waist, pale chest bared and hair unbound, immediately steals from Wei Wuxian the breath he’d only just been able to catch.

Hanguang-jun is truly the Light Bearer, he laments, mindless of the smile that overtakes him. Even the sun seems to be drawn to the good Lan Zhan. Streaming onto the bed from the window behind, morning sunlight enshrouds his entire being and condenses into a soft halo around him, as if to remind the world that this man is blessed by the gods.

Yet this god-chosen man, destined for immortality, has given himself over to Wei Wuxian last night, delivered into his hands, with pure trust and a small smile in the dark.

Wei Wuxian feels the back of his neck heat up from the memory. Get yourself together, Wei Wuxian, you flagrant degenerate, it’s practically midday. 

"Wei Ying, I…" Lan Wangji averts his eyes as Wei Wuxian takes a seat beside him, holding his clothes ready for him.

"Ah, Lan Zhan, don't be embarrassed." Wei Wuxian chuckles, reaching out to twirl a strand of Lan Wangji's hair around his finger teasingly. "So you slept in, happens to the best of us." 

Leaning forward and pecking a chaste kiss to his forehead, Wei Wuxian hands him his robes and says, "Alright, come on, let's get up. You have to work, and I have to assist my venerated Hanguang-jun. A bath and some breakfast - I told the disciples I'm not feeling my best, they'll probably send whatever I ask for. Nobody ever has to know our Sect Master was sleeping the morning away."

The tip of Lan Wangji's ears turns pink, but instead of accepting the garbs the other man holds out to him, he shifts closer and winds his arms around Wei Wuxian shamelessly. "Yes perhaps, but I am not entirely to blame."

This time, Wei Wuxian does blush. He draws his head back, aghast. "L-Lan Zhan! H-how could you say such a thing in broad daylight!

"Is it not so?" Lan Wangji rests his chin against his lover's shoulder and pivots his head almost accusingly.

Wei Wuxian sputters. Why you shameless little - you - I -

Memories from the night before come rushing back: Lan Zhan's earnest open face when he asked Wei Wuxian to indulge him, climbing onto his lap and whispering into his ear exactly what he wanted. Wei Wuxian is used to Lan Zhan taking charge. It’s been that way since the two of them became intimate. He’s thrilled, more than thrilled, to share those stolen moments with Lan Zhan. In fact, it always does funny wonderful things to him to see the disciplined Hanguang-jun let loose the way he does when they’re together.

But to have his Lan Zhan laying under him, arching and trembling and falling apart for him, his name uttered by those heavenly lips like an answer, a spell, a prayer…How does any reasonable man come back from that?

Oh my god…I - I deflowered the Second Jade of Gusu… Wei Wuxian realizes with a jolt, suddenly hot under the collar. It's not that the implication didn't occur to him yesterday, but the weight of his actions had not fully sunk in until now. It's probably not a coincidence that Lan Wangji, who has never overslept a day in his life, fails to keep to his rigid internal clock after Wei Wuxian spent most of the night having his ways with him.

When did they even go to actual sleep? It couldn't have been any time before midnight. Wei Ying, Wei Wuxian, you fool, you absolute idiot, how could you have done this?! You should've been more careful!!

…Lan Zhan had been so careful with me…

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji calls his name, arms still locked around him. "You told them I'd be gone for a while yet, yes?"

Wei Wuxian frowns, not sure where he's headed. "Yeah?"

Lan Wangji shuffles closer, one of his hands travelling across the front of Wei Wuxian's robes until he finds the knotted sash. Blinking innocently, he says without a shred of pretense, "I do not doubt your skills, but my memories of last night are a little vague. Perhaps you ought to demonstrate for me again, as a reminder?"

For a long, long moment, neither of them move, Lan Wangji's request apparently having shocked Wei Wuxian into petrified silence. He does nothing but stare back at him, so much so Lan Wangji begins to wonder if he went a little too far with the teasing. But then Wei Wuxian's expression shifts, something raw and hungry flashing across his face. The next moment, Lan Wangji is flipped over onto his front, the covers yanked off exposing his pale bare form, every inch a perfection. 

Lan Wangji shivers, more reactionary than actually cold. He can feel Wei Ying's gaze on him, heated and appreciative, and as much as he doesn't want to give him the satisfaction, he squirms under the scrutiny.

"Wei Y-"

But the weight of Wei Ying's body is suddenly flush against his back, and Lan Wangji notices with a start that while he is thoroughly bare, Wei Ying is mostly dressed and does not appear to be in any hurry to change that.

Does Wei Ying really intend to take him while fully clothed?! Somehow the thought doesn't bother him, not in the least. Rather, it spurs him on, sparking the desire that simmers just beneath his skin. 

His hair is swept to side; Lan Wangji groans as a pair of lips press a hot, open mouthed kiss against his neck behind one redden ear.

"One would think, Hanguang-jun, that requesting physical intimacy in the middle of the day counts for misbehaviour."

The needy kiss transforms into a sharp bite.

Lan Wangji suffocates a groan, shuddering as the kiss trails between his shoulder blades and lower. For a few minutes, all he can focus on is the touch of hands and lips and tongue mapping out the planes of his body and wringing from him wonderful pleasures that he would not otherwise so easily relinquish.

"As the once disciplinary officer of Cloud Recesses," continues Wei Ying, lifting Lan Zhan by the hips and pushing him onto his knees. "Please enlighten us the appropriate consequences."

Wei Ying sounds very much like a cat savouring its play time with its poor prey before devouring it alive. Although Lan Wangji would never admit it out loud even under duress, he can confess to himself in the safety of his mind that this fate is exactly what he wants.

The Wei Ying of last night was careful, gentle, and steadfast despite being nervous.That Wei Ying had held his hands, lacing their fingers together, and whispered sweet lovely things as he brought them to their heights and back. Lan Wangji wasn't lying when he said his memories were a bit fuzzy; the entire experience had been…a lot.

However, Wei Ying in the morning is a whole different beast, and Lan Zhan aches just imagining what waits ahead. He wants him, by god, he wants him.

"One would think, Wei-jun," Lan Wangji manages to grit out, "that as someone who holds the highest running record of punishments received during his guest disciple days, you would be more than acquainted with Cloud Recesses' method of discipl - ah!"

The cry is ripped from his throat before he could help it. Panting, Lan Wangji writhes against the sheets and marvels a little at just how readily he receives what Wei Ying gives him.

But Wei Ying's tone loses its playfulness right away. "Lan Zhan -" The hand that threads through his hair is light and the following kiss on his left shoulder is tender. "- are you - are you hurt? Was I -"

Perhaps that cry sounded more distressed than he actually was. Lan Wangji turns his head to meet Wei Ying's worried gaze and melts a little. Blood is roaring in his ears and he is hot all over, but the warm cocoon that envelops his heart has nothing to do with lust.

Wei Ying presses another soft, comforting kiss against the shell of his ear and then another against his temple. "Say something, should I stop?"

Stop?! If this endearing idiot even thinks about stopping now Lan Wangji will absolutely smack him out of pure frustration.  

Catching his breath, he pushes back against Wei Wuxian and is immensely satisfied when the other man shudders in response. Reveling in the knowledge that he is the only one to ever see Wei Ying this way, he does it again. This time, the hands gripping his deviant hips are no longer gentle.

"Are you going to make good on my punishments," challenges Lan Wangji, batting his lashes, infinitesimally coy. "Or were those merely empty threats?"

The speed at which Wei Ying's eyes darken with desire almost makes Lan Wangji regret his impertinence. But then he is being thrust forward without warning, the unexpected motion hitting that spot inside him that makes his toes curl and his vision go white, and he instantly regrets nothing.

"W-Wei Ying…"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he is aware that he is being objectively loud, but it really isn't his fault. Who in their right mind would expect him to be silent when he is being railed into the bed like both their immortalities depended on it. He just hopes Wei Ying has the good sense to cast a silencing talisman (lucky for them, he did).

Lan Zhan moans into the sheets, his eyes rolling back. How on earth is he so wrecked so quickly?! What is Wei Ying doing to him? In this position, he is completely at his lover's mercy, but he doesn't want to fight it, not at all. Clutching the wooden headboard, Lan Wangji surrenders the last bit of his self-control and submerges under the waves of sensations and sounds and bliss.  

~

Lan Zhan is quiet afterwards, soaking in the bath Wei Wuxian prepared for him. Wei Wuxian wipes himself down perfunctorily, changes into fresh robes and then proceeds to meticulously tidy the bed. The sheets are…probably not salvageable. He'll have to burn them or bury them, because there's no way he can hand them over to the disciples on laundry duty in the state that they're in. Even he can't talk his way out of that one.

When he's sure there is no more incriminating evidence of their activities, Wei Wuxian rounds behind the screen to find Lan Zhan exactly where he'd left him.

Eyes closed, he looks so young. It's not fair how everything must fall to him now. Lan Zhan never complains, but he must be exhausted after all that's happened since the end of last year.

His heart squeezing tightly, Wei Wuxian picks up a wash cloth and sits down by the tub. Lovely eyes flutter open just as he runs the warm towel over the round of Lan Zhan's shoulder.

"Are you alright?" He asks softly, wiping a bit of dried spent from Lan Zhan's chin. "Was I too rough?"

The tip of Lan Zhan's ears turns pink again. He shakes his head, taking Wei Wuxian's hand and caresses his knuckles. "No, you were perfect."  

Still, something nags Wei Wuxian in the mind of his mind. Their hands still clasped together, he shifts closer and searches Lan Zhan's face. 

"Lan Zhan, what brought this on? Last night and this morning. You know I don't mind being the …uhm…" Blushing, he clears his throat, suddenly thin-skinned. Damn it, Wei Wuxian, get it together. "You know I don’t mind being the way we were before. Love it in fact, can't get enough of it even. I don't want you to think I expect you to - uhm - return the favour... as it were."

Lan Zhan's eyes are serious but also bright and earnest with understanding and intent. He thumbs the blush on Wei Wuxian's cheek, curling his fingers around his nape. 

"I'm yours now, Wei Ying." He says, voice hushed but resolve firm. "Do you understand? No more nonsense about finding me a proper husband, or a wife to bear me heirs, or any talk of that kind. Even if the Elders bar me from marrying you on the account of you being my brother's widower, I'm yours, and you're not allowed to abandon me. I won't have it."

"Lan Zhan..." The back of his throat grows unbearably tight. Wei Wuxian feels as though he could cry. He remembers their conversation back in Qishan when he saw Lan Zhan with little Wen Yuan and the ensuing row they had afterwards. It was perhaps the first and only time Lan Zhan lost his temper with him. He'd been so angry, so hurt, that Wei Ying would even suggest he should marry another.

Wei Wuxian, if you truly want me to be with someone else, then what, tell me, are we doing now?!

Wei Wuxian squeezes his hand, pressing a heartbroken kiss to his palm, then another, then another. He feels horrible with himself. How could he not realize earlier? Is this why Lan Zhan had been so insistent?

"Lan Zhan, my good Lan Zhan, you didn't have to - I won't leave you, Lan Zhan, I promised you, I won't. You have me, you'll always have me, you didn't have to -"

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji interrupts him, seeing his self-deprecating tendencies are once again leading him down the wrong line of thought. "I want you, want to be with you. Last night was not solely to drive home a point. Even if I did want to make a point, it would only be part of the reason, minimal at best, and certainly would not account for this morning.” 

Wei Wuxian blinks, swallowing thickly. "And the real reason?"

"Well, surely it's very telling." Lan Wangji inches closer. The angle of the round tub makes it awkward but he doesn't care. A smile playing at his lips, he whispers into the other man's ear and delights at the way Wei Ying pulls back with a scandalized cry.

"Lan Zhan!"

Wei Wuxian is sure that his entire face is on fire. Who would've thought the esteemed Hanguang-jun could be such a lethal combination of imaginative mind and dirty mouth?!

But Lan Wangji only chuckles, nuzzling his neck. "Thank you for being so obliging, Wei Ying. I hope I was not too much of a burden."

I’m going to cry, thinks Wei Wuxian, I’m actually going to cry. Inside his chest, his heart has swelled so incredibly that he feels it will burst any second. "Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, my good Lan-er-gege," he chants, over and over, peppering the lightest and sweetest of kisses along Lan Wangji's face. "You can't say things like that without warning! My heart can't take it!"

"Mn,” Lan Wangji purrs.“You'll live."

"Lan Zhan, ah Lan Zhan, what am I going to do with you?" Wei Wuxian sighs,  holding the other man by the curve of his jaw and smiles that sunshine smile.

"Stuck with me, I'm afraid. Hasn't anyone told you?" Lan Zhan peers at him through hooded eyes. "Us Gusu Lans, we're rooks."

"Rooks?"

"Rooks mate for life."

At that, Wei Wuxian pulls Lan Wangji impossibly close and silences him with a deep, long kiss.

-

[part 8]

yishu 遗属 - family that is left behind through death. 

[sashi-ya]

Hello, Sashi! Can I have a spot for Prince! Ichiji x F! Reader with the prompt secret mission: assassinate the prince? NSFW please. Any kink you consider will work! Thanks!

Hi!! of course!! I hope you enjoy it! It's a little dark but I think Ichiji is one of the best characters for writing dark fics! Thanks for requesting! 💖~

👑 Oh, Royal Lust Event ~ Royals AU event.

𝖓𝖘𝖋𝖜 ~ 𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊! 𝖁𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖒𝖔𝖐𝖊 𝕴𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖏𝖎 𝖝 𝕾𝖕𝖞! 𝕱! 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 ~ 𝕴𝖓 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕺𝖜𝖓 𝕿𝖗𝖆𝖕

tw: DARK EXPLICIT CONTENT!. Mentions of killing and death. Poison using. Saddistic tendencies and practices. oral sex. cream pie. slaps. once again DARK content.

wc: 3.5k

Want more? visit the masterlist

The strongest soldier.

Sadist, an assassin. Severe, and quick.

Sliced throats, white foam forming on their mouths, chose the way. Torture or a quick fix? Anyway, they all end up dead.

Your best mission, killing a Prince; Vinsmoke Ichiji. The next King of the enemy’s kingdom. For the sake of your country, for the sake of your homeland.

There he is, drinking and enjoying himself. Girls around he doesn’t even look, courtesans that run their hands all over his chest, down , down his chest. Some bite his neck, some sit over his lap.   

Their cheeks are red, alcohol fills the veins of the young women playing with the prince. Cheeks red like his hair, falling back, almost even wet from the clouds of smoke of that bar.

Your heels hit against the floor, and the loud music rumbles on your chest. The long boots made out of shiny black leather squeeze your thighs, and the short skirt of your dress does too. Nothing more exciting than a beautiful woman for Prince Ichiji.

Your hips swing from side to side, and your elbows end up buried in whichever man’s ribs that dares to touch you.

You have chosen cyanide. Sweet, sweet poison that would end up on his fleshy lips sending him to a painful death. The little bottle filled with some drops hangs from your neck as a deathly piece of jewellery.

He laughs and drinks and pushes many women away. Who knows who the men that are surrounding him are, but they are about to pass out; none of them have the same powerful capacity to drink as he does.

A few steps away, he is a few steps away from you. But you aren’t simply touching him, not like the rest of the girls. You need to call his attention…

You pass straight next to him, not even touching him, just trusting in the addictive dance of your hips. The counter of the bar is some meters away, and as you walk towards there you can sense his blue eyes fixed on the low cut of your backless dress.

Resting your arms over the wet table, your spine curves making your ass lifted up. Feline position, legs crossed, the leathery material of your boots grazing with each other.

“A Bloody Mary, please” you request to the barman, a subtle smirk with ruby red lips assures you any drink you want instantly and absolutely free. Is not that the bartender wasn’t someone you knew, in fact, he was one of your colleagues. The prince shouldn’t have come to your land, so nonchalantly visiting your bars, and touching your women.

And just as you expected, the despot royal who thinks everything is his, placed his gloved hands over the counter next to you. You lick your teeth, like a blood thirsty beast waiting to devour a prey that has just fallen in your trap.

“I will have the same as the lady right here” he commands to the barman, owning a side look under your long fluttering lashes. A subtle smirk, seductive and irresistible draws in both of your mouths, and damn the prince is really handsome after all.

You get served at the same time. Reaching for the slice of citric on the cup, you take it to your lips. You lick the juicy drops over them, acting completely unaware of the persistent stare of Ichiji Vinsmoke over your profile.

Ichiji feels uncomfortable, why is that bitch not looking at him? Why are you not pouncing onto him? Are you perhaps a challenge? There is nothing Ichiji is denied, and you, of course, won’t be the exception. He wants you, and he wants you so bad.

He takes his hands to his chin, desperation crippling inside him, heat crawling from his sex to his mind. How much will he have to wait until you look at him, directly.

The dim red lights of the bar shine in between smoke clouds creating images like lasers, or even sparks. And you don’t have to look at him to know your legs are now reflecting on his dark cherry glasses.

When your drink is finished, and you are sure his too as he had drunk it in just one go you hear his rather melodic voice ask for another drink. “Would you prefer something fruity, or perhaps something stronger this time?” he asks, implying you might be a little weak. If he only knew…

“I will take whatever you take” you tell him, finally speaking directly towards him. “Sure? Ladies aren’t that used to have stronger drinks” he spits, mockingly and probably based on misogynistic beliefs.

You smile, the bunny has fallen into the trap. “Well, if I can take it, could I rely on you to take me home?” you come further and whisper closer to his ear. His exquisite cologne reaches your nostrils, and you have to fight the urge to touch him. A false step could cost you the accomplishment of such important mission.

Ichiji laughs, and the classic smirk that he holds with pride garnishes his countenance. “Of course, I could take you to my hotel room if you don’t mind. I’m sure you must know I’m the prince of the Germa Kingdom”.

Of course, I know you are Vinsmoke Ichiji… bastard

“It’s a deal… my Prince” you say, slowly, sexily, deathly pronouncing the last words with tempting tone. “Heh…” Ichiji laughs, asking the bartender his best bottle of Sake from Wano. A strong choice, yet nothing your well-trained body could manage… Oh, but for the sake of the mission, you will have to act like a poor drunken damsel in distress.

You pour the first cup, of course, a Prince shouldn’t be serving but being served. The total submission hints you give him excites him more and more. You can even notice the effect your crossed legs have on his by the bulge growing on his white pants.

After the second cup, you are growing impatient… maybe that sake is stronger than you thought, or maybe it’s just the way his prominent collar bones flash as he unbuttons some buttons of the black frilled shirt he is wearing.

You fix your eyes into the little drops of sweat running through his neck. “Sake surely makes me hot” he says, while you notice a little blush over his cheeks. Is the prince drunk already? Apparently executing the deathly plan will be even easier then.

You fan your face with your hand, grazing the little container with poison hanging from your neck. Your long red nails barely scratch the prominence of your visible, revealing cleavage. You tilt your head, and as the snake that lured Adam and Eve to eat the apple from the tree, you bite your lip.

“It is indeed really hot in here, my prince”. “Then let’s go to somewhere else, shall we?” he says, and the next stage of your plan has just started.

Both walk to the exit of the bar, passed out drunken women rest over two men of green and blue hair. Quickly you recognize his two younger siblings, future princes you will have to kill eventually, too.

Outside, a carriage pulled by huge cats with the number 66 engraved in their headbands, waits for you.

Ichiji grabs your hand, and helps you sit in it. Acting like a true gentleman, well knowing the true nature of his intentions. “Thank you, my Prince” you mumble sitting and waiting for him to sit next to you. He nods, and you can already feel the intimidating aura of a man that wants to use you as a semen deposit for the rest of the night.

His gloved hand rests over your knee, and many are the times you have to remind yourself you are on a mission and that man by your side is nothing but your enemy… but the prince is handsome, isn’t he?

The bumpy roads on your city make your breasts jump attracting Ichiji’s eyes, and as he is delighted by their hypnotizing motions, he comes closer to your ear. “I might want to fuck you all night long, darling” he whispers, grazing your lobe with his kissable lips.

You would lie if you said the gasp that went off your mouth was an acting, and you surely felt a shiver run through your spine. Up and down, finally ending on your core.

“Will you fuck me, my prince?” you murmur, following Ichiji’s words.

“More than that, woman” he says, passing his index finger from the valley that forms in between your collarbones down and over the little bottle.

Soon, you arrive to his hotel. The luxurious Adlon Hotel, in the western part of your city, next to the antique monument representing the gates of it. Security guards that look like clones surround the place and scans you up and down, you are nothing but a whore… or that’s what they have to think. You do not represent any danger to the future king, in fact, the only person in danger here it’s you.

You get down with his help, his hand travelling further from your waist to the small of your back. “Good evening, my Prince” two of the clones salute him and take a look at the revealing outfit you are wearing. You can feel their eyes on you and how his dicks get hard as you walk pass them, but you are only here to make just a man hard… hard, stiff, and cold… make this man a corpse.

Fixing your sight on the luxurious tiles of the Adlon Hotel as you walk, make you a little lightheaded, or is it perhaps Ichiji’s hand around your waist? Either way, you just walk, hiding your face with some of your hair locks. You don’t want to risk any of his intelligence system to notice who you really are.

“You have come here to kill him, (Name). You are a spy, you are a killer” you remind yourself on and on and on, because your body begs to let this man at least fuck you once before you give him the deadly substance.

He gives you a light spank in your ass when the doors of the elevator open, and so you answer by simply giggling and walking inside it. Ichiji takes off his gloves and pulses the number six.

A ding announces the lift has begun to move. And as soon as it does, his hand squeezes your neck. His nose pressed against yours, his free hand already under the skirt of your dress. He smirks, pushing you hard against the mirror wall of the elevator, making you sigh with a mix of hate and ardour desire for him.

“I would most definitely fuck you right here, little whore. But my security insists is better to do this type of things on the royal suite” he says, burying one of his fingers on your sex. “Wet already? Good…”

Pondering extending the mission well passed a good fucking session, the doors of the elevator opens, and the opulence of the Royal Suite blinds your eyes.

Inside you go, and Ichiji doesn’t wait a single second to push you against the huge bed in the middle of the room. You land, sitting on the red velvety covers of such comfortable mattress.

“Heh…” he laughs, taking his glasses off. Revealing beautiful sky-blue eyes, irresistible sight that burns holes into your ablaze body.

Next, his shirt. Black cloth that fall into the ground and let’s you discover the ink on his right arm with the number 1. Of course, of course you are the number one… arrogant bastard.

Arrogant, hot, sexy bastard.

Next his pants, the belt with a skull and two rays hit the white marble of the floor, chiming louder. White trousers fall into the ground and then his white boxers too. It’s huge, hard, dripping. So tempting, deliciously looking… you want his dick inside your mouth, inside you, filling you up, deep, oh so deep…

But you have to kill him, focus.

Ichiji runs his fingers through his blood-coloured hair and licks his lips. You are his prey now… but are you really?

He walks towards you; his knee spreads your legs making your dress slide up your hips. The prince runs his index and thumb finger under your chin, pulling your head up to look him in the eyes.

“You are an interesting woman… You look as if you were hiding secrets… are you?” he says, smirking with devilish eyes. “Secrets?” you ask, suspecting his tone has changed from a horny man to a serious one. You are not really afraid, but what if the rumours of him being the most intelligent of the princes is true?

He doesn’t speak and instead he pushes back in a violent motion. Your back lands on the bed and Ichiji tops you. His knees end up trapping your wrists against the mattress and the plan is not going as expected. You were supposed to tie him up to the bed to make him drink the poison…

His hard shaft is a few centimetres from your mouth and precum drops drizzle your lips as his dick twitches over them. His sight show how he is not only horny, but he is defiant towards you.

Shit… I should keep the acting up… I will have time eventually to kill him

You smile and stick your tongue out, tasting the salty product of his tip you think it will be enough to trick him. “Heh… what a whore…” he murmurs, enjoying your now lips surrounding his dick.

You endeavour to play your role fighting against your own body acting on its own. He pushes his dick inside you, hitting your throat, making you gag and cry. His hips move, in and out and you began to sense the lack of blood flow on your arms as his knees press them hard.

Ichiji grunts, pulling from your hair to move your head violently. He sometimes pushes himself even deeper into your throat as he does with your head. Face and lips buried on his pelvis preventing you from breathing in a lustful torture of using you as a mere wet hole for his dick.

You sometimes open your eyes; they burn from the tears melting your makeup. Your sight begs for air, you need a second to rest.

Ichiji eventually grants you the privilege of oxygen flowing into your lungs. You cough, and pant. It’s humiliating and hot, and your mission seems to fade away, but as long as he doesn’t suspect anything, everything will be alri-

“Keep going, keep sucking my dick like the good whore you are, come on… I wanna know how far you are planning to go” he says, and you strongly suspect he knew who you were all along…

You receive him again, trembling. Does he really know? Or is it just for the fantasy?

A series of violent thrusts bruise your pharynx, and as his frown shows you he is about to cum, he does. He doesn’t let you move your head back. And instead, he forces your mouth and throat to get bathed by his warm, sticky release.

“Drink it all, bitch” he commands, giving you no other option than to gobble his seed up.

When he finally stops crushing your wrists, you move them trying to see if you are even able to move them back. The marks of his knees over them are now an imprint of how violent and rude he could be with a woman. Or mostly with any other human being…

He should be dead by now.

“Look at you, whore. Such a mess, tch!” he protests cleaning the rests of his cum from the corners of your lips. And just when you thought he would only want you to let him fuck your cunt, he rips your collar off your neck.

You try to stop him, but Ichiji slaps you not hard but enough to prevent you from moving.

“Hehehe! You want this? Huh? Why? What’s this liquid, mhh?” he asks, sarcastically rejoicing in your desperate look.

You grab your cheek and ponder your possibilities. Either you attack him with your martial arts training, or you act as a sweet damsel pleading that collar is just a piece of decoration.

“Speak, whore!” he demands, shouting at you, pissed off.

“I- I- That’s my collar, my Prince! It’s just a piece of jewellery, I don’t know what the liquid is!” you act innocent, scanning the best possible way to kick the bastard.

“Very well then…” he says, smirking and unscrewing the lid of the little container. “Then why don’t we share some drops?”

You widen your eyes, is this crazy motherfucker willing to kill himself too? But you have no time to think as he lifts you up from bed and puts you in the ground with one violent swing.

You remain still, as his hand first rips your dress and then lands on your neck once again squeezing it harder. The container with the deathliest cyanide concentrate gets closer to your mouth and he pours the tiniest drop over your lower lip.

You tremble and keep your mouth sealed tightly. The little drop slides from your lip towards your chin leaving a mephitic yellowish trail.

“Do you think this tastes good?” he says, coming closer with his lips to yours. You are unable to speak, he is gonna die… as well as you. You slowly throw your head back, is not that you don’t want him not to die but if he kisses you, you will have some of that venom too.

He lets go of your neck but pushes you back until you hit the wall behind you. Pinned once again, you can only pray for this man not to go into suicidal mode. You can’t move, or else you will die.

“Let’s play a game, shall we? I will fuck you so rough, so fucking rough… and we will see how long you manage until you can’t keep your mouth closed not to die, little whore!... or should I say, fucking spy?”  

Tears fall from your eyes, with trembling lips. But insanely as it sounds your sex throbs, and the wetness of your exhilaration drips from your cunt to the floor.

“Also, I will have to be strong not to kiss those juicy red lips… is that cyanide? Hah! Crazy!”

Ichiji pumps his dick a few times and mercilessly impales you right there, deep, stretching your walls. You fight against the need to moan, to whine. You can’t open your mouth…

You close your eyes; tears blur your vision anyway. But Ichiji wants you to look at him. “Open your eyes, whore. Look at me with those desperate eyes. Beg for mercy, beg your prince to let you live!” he says, turned into some kind of sadistic demon.

You feel yourself about to be ripped in half, and your teeth grith one against the other to keep your lips pressed. Ichiji sometimes gets dangerously closer to them, panting with his mouth open as he pumps on and on in and out of you.

His warmth breath only blows the venom, and you can feel it getting colder but still present there. You cry and throw your eyes back as he also slaps and pinch your nipples.

“You are so good with this, whore!! You are doing it so well, but how long can you resist? Huh?” he says, thrusting into you even more violently and squeezing your cheeks making your lips get on the verge of separating.

The contradiction of being tortured and enjoying the way he fucks you is killing you as climax approaches and your lower limbs begin to tremble.

“Coming already? Good you are almost there!!” he laughs so insanely, and his face shows you he is coming as well as you are.  “Well, I guess I will cream pie you, bitch… I wish I could kiss you while I fill you up but oh well…” he says.

You fell the nerves of your core exploding, orgasming so hard, crying and moaning, praying for this to end but enjoying the way Ichiji also comes inside of your womb.

Some seconds pass as he empties himself inside you, even more excited by the tears in your eyes. “Good girl, you didn’t die!” he celebrates, pulling himself out of you. You feel his seed drip and slide from your entrance into your inner thighs.

“MHH…?” you mutter, begging for him to help you knowing too well he probably won’t. But he does and snatches your arm. “Come here, bitch. I’m not planning on killing you” he laughs and walks you to the bathroom.

Ichiji opens the tap and uses his hand with warm water to clean your lips. Once, twice, until no rests of poison cover your lips.

“Now I can kiss you properly… but before I do… in exchange for saving your life I want to fuck you every night from now on… ok?”

“Yes… My Prince ~”

[ashthemadwriter-archived]

How their female version would be like Ft. Seijoh & Fukurodani & Nekoma

Fandom:Haikyuu Pairings:Iwaizime,Oikawa,Bokuto,Akaashi,Kenma,Kuroo X Gn!reader Genre:Fluff,Smut,Crack Format:Headcanons Warnings:Nsfw content,kinda suggestive,mentions of women's private part,mentions of scissoring, dom/switch/bottom characters Word Count:1.3K A/n: I don't know why im doing this but I am so don't forget to like this shit 🙂 used she/her pronouns for the characters,not proofread,English isn't my main language so spare me if theres any mistakes in the text below

Part one with Karasuno

↬Kenma

-Loooooneeeer lmao

-shes like the shy girl whos always distance from everyone (except for her bff,Kuroo)

-shes actually a really cute girl <: has the same hair style as her male version, except that now she has cute bee/kitty hair clipses on -

-shes not eye catching,tbh.always trying to avoid everyones attention and drowns herself in her videogames

-boys recognize her as "the cute,shy girl whos always running away from having conversations"

-and they have a point lmao (remember when Kageyama started asking random questions from Ken?like that)

-I think she'll be around 162 cm tall

-lmao I just cant picture her in bed

-ok but im telling you she wont suck your dick (if you have one lol)

-she just seems like the kinda type who would turn your request down.she doesn't like doing it

-shes quiet in bed🥺just lets out quiet whimpers and silent moans

-am I the only person who thinks she has the tightest,prettiest pussy ever? 🚶🏻‍♀️

-she'll be frustrated if you eat her out

-her expression is soooooo wholesome T^T

-will be blushing like heck while desperately pushing your head down to her pretty little pussy

-she might not show it,but she likes your company.a lot.specially if you play her favorite games with her

-her head on your shoulder,her tongue out of her mouth due to overfocusing, playing like her life depends on it with a serious face. you were so attracted to her at her cute expression that you didn't even pay attention to the game and lost after 20 seconds

-she excitedly turned her face to your direction,and met with your thirsty lips that were craving for the taste of her

-after a few seconds of shock,she closed her eyes,arms rapping around your neck as she lied on the bed under her

-it was supposed to be a "gaming night",but turned out to be something more <3

↬Kuroo

-this bitch lmao

-cocky brat

-gives me switch/dom vibes :D

-always talks back at you,and lets be honest,nothing turns you on more than that

-shes 168 cm tall,maybe?

-has short hair,reaches under her shoulders while a bit of it covers her right eye

-which leads you to gently push them behind her ear to see that mfucking gorgeous face of hers 😤

-shes actually nice.might be cocky,might be a hard ass,but shes nice

-youre stubborn too ofc,but the minute she smiles at you then gives you a quick peck on the lips youre on your knees for her

-everybody knows hes yours.she made it clear herself,and youre greatfull for that

-likes to play with your hair :) your head on her lap while watching some romantic movie as you sense her fingers digging into your hair,gently caressing it T^T

-Yaku is her best friend after Kenma.sure,they argue a lot and compete with each other on everything,but that weirdly led into a strong friendship that was unnoticed by so many people,especially themselves

-rough sex in the shower

-omg help

-hardcore scissoring sessions? check✅

-if you have pussy tho lmao

↬Iwaizumi

-lmao idk

-shes a tough one bitches ok?

-but she has a soft spot for people she cares about,and youre definitely one of them so don't worry :D

-SHORT OR MEDIUM SIZED HAIR.MESSY,DARK BROWN HAIR

-shes so fucking slim.like everybodys dreaming to hook up with her,but they already know what the answer is

-a big NO

-why the fuck would she even let people near her when she has you?

-doesn't hit Oikawa that much anymore.only aims the back of her head and smacks her XD (yup Oiks is a girl too)

-"Focus,shittykawa;or im sending all of your lame pics to your s/o" "so mean to me,Iwa-chan!!!what did I ever do to ya?"

-her height is about 164 cm

-likes to be the big spoon,but sometimes she needs to receive affection the way she deserves ok?

-staring at each others eyes while being intimate? check✅

-youre literally one of the only people shes able to keep her guard down around them

-looks pissed all the time and is kinda scary,but shes actually a sweetheart <3

-burries her face in the crook of your neck when being the big spoon,kissing your sensitive neck while telling you how much you mean to her :)

↬Oikawa

-its shittykawas turn now XD

-popular

-POPULAR

-POPULARRRRRRRRR

-Its really annoying tbh.like shes your girl,but everyone still tries to play dumb,deny that fact and hit on her

-which is why you asked Iwaizumi to teach you how to fight,just in case that things (your jealousy) gets outta hand

-shes a bottom :>

-a naughty one hehe

-has long hair,like…it reaches her hips,and its always down

-you love her hair.love to bruch it for her when shes being lazy in the morning,or smell the strawberry-scented shampoo on it while cuddling at night

-her heights around…166 cm?

-has so many exes,and since theyre attending the same school/university as you,youre always running to them while hanging out with her in the yard

-sooooooooo annoying

-loves to receive gifts from you.sure,she always gets stuff from her fans,but with you…its different

-is a pro in bed,and has definitely lost her virginity before you

-being her s/o is really challenging,but its worth it,cuase you get to date the most amazing,sweetest girl in the world

↬Bokuto

-clingyyyyyyyy

-in a really cute way

-like god shes like literally the cutest creature in the whole fucking world

-loves hugs.loves kisses.loves any type of affection I FUCKING MEAN IT

-attacks you with hugs.like,your walking in the hallway and suddenly shes running toward you,jumping on you as you unconsciously wrap your arms around her,preventing her to fall

-"hiiiiiiiiiii babyyyyyyyyyy I missed youuuuuu *mwah!"

-her hair is long,and is always braided into pigtails shape (most of the time by you :>)

-she wont go away if you do not give her morning kisses

-always clinging onto your lap,hiding in your embrace as she places her head onto your chest T^T

-ADORABLE

-shes hot and cute the same time.the type of girl who doesn't really tries to be attractive,but naturally is and has no idea about it

-her height is around 166

-istg your days wont go without her showering you into kisses

-theres no way shell break up with you

-puts you above everything and everyone.youre her first priority

-shes a bottom 🥺 a loud kind of one

-her nonestop compliments has made you develop a praise kink

-likes to wear your clothes and act cute around you <3

-if you don't eat her up I will *-*

↬Akaashi

-please marry her.you will not find anybody better than her I am telling you

-Sooooo mature

-Sooooo nice

-Sooooo sweet

-Sooooo responsible

-Sooooo understanding

-always looks out for you.youre having trouble with something? just leave it to the strong hands of this girl

-shes a giver in bed,and a switch

-shes the "lets bare the pressure together.were gonna get through this.i got you" type of girl :)

-her hair is a bit-just a bit-shorter than Bokutos,and her height is around 164 cm

-this girl is GORGEOUS.have you seen her eyes? HAVE YOU SEEN IT? that damn,ocean eyes,or as Selena Gomez says "swimming,in your eyes in your eyes in your eyes Egyptian blue,something ive never had without you"

-the most delicious neck belongs to this neck.she smells like a fucking banquet of roses, making you lose your mind and go crazy over that white,fine looking neck of hers

-her styles are unique.theyre not fancy,very simple honestly; but somehow she becomes stunning when she wears them.she knows how to match things up

-speaking of matching things,you have matching rings ;)

-which was bought from you.a pair of silver-colored rings,that would look breath taking on her long,pale fingers T^T

-marry her or im stealing her from you istg

reblogs are sooooooo much eppreciated :)

[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 2

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The aftermath of matching with your boss on Tinder.

Word Count: 3,344

Warnings: FILTHY SMUT, boss x employee affair, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected office sex 🤷🏻‍♀️

A/N: Hmmm yes, part 2 of The Match is finally out and I hope this did not disappoint 😂

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

“Am I really doing this?”

You asked yourself in the mirror before making a face, “Of course I am.” You huffed out and adjusted your breasts inside your bra.

After your brief yet tension-filled encounter with James, you sprinted to the bathroom as soon as you reached your floor. And mind you, you did that while wearing a tight pencil skirt and a pair of heels. It really surprised you how your thirst made you do that with ease.

If there was an olympics dedicated for thirsty bitches trying to get some, you’d probably bring home the gold with how fast you moved.

You checked your watch for the time, you still had ten minutes left so you made sure to fix yourself up. Of course, the logical part of your brain was screaming for you to get a grip because really? You were going to let your boss fuck you? In his office? During work hours? You were at a damn risk here; you could get caught or even worse, lose your job. But was that going to stop you?

Hell fucking no.

Checking yourself out in the mirror one last time, you let out a deep breath and walked out. Maybe you were just being hyper aware given that you were headed to your boss’ office to get fucked, but you felt uncomfortable as you passed by your colleagues. You offered them polite smiles and tried to act normal. Thank god the elevator was just a few steps away.

“Oh thank goodness, there you are.” Your manager immediately blocked your way and handed you a couple of folders.

“I need you to make a report out of these. I have a presentation before lunch.” She explained.

You frowned, “I’m sorry but aren’t you supposed to do these, not me? Besides, Ja— Mister Barnes called requested me to see him in his office.”

Your manager used to be on the same level as you were but was promoted a couple of months ago. Why? You absolutely have no idea. She wasn’t the best at her job, in fact, you felt like the promotion should’ve been yours. Since she became your manager, she had been passing some of her tasks to you and snatching away the credit like a fucking bitch.

Your managed narrowed her eyes at you, “The James Barnes requested for you? Why?” She asked suspiciously, hands on her hips.

Of course she would be suspicious, you never worked with James before. But the fact that you were going there for a completely different reason made you sweat.

You breathed out through your nose, shaking your head and avoiding your manager’s gaze. “I...who knows? I mean, I have no idea why. He just told me to see him in his office and that’s about it. I really don’t know the reason, why would he even ask for me? Probably not a big deal, it’s very normal to ask a subordinate into your office, right? Do you know why he asked for me?” You were a blabbering mess at this point.

Your manager scoffed, “If I did, I wouldn’t ask you.” She responded before waving a hand. “Anyway, I’ll take care of him. Go and work on the reports now. Before lunch, remember.” She commanded, pointing a finger at you before walking away.

“Wait! But I...” you trailed, looking at the folders in your hand before checking your watch. Five minutes left. “...I was gonna get fucked...” you whispered in disappointment before stomping your way back to your cubicle.

The tantrums you made when you reached your desk didn’t go unnoticed. Who wouldn’t be grumpy anyway? Your manager just cockblocked you on your way to get some D, and it’s not even some regular D. James would probably be balls-deep in you now but instead, you were getting fucked by a report that wasn’t even supposed to be your responsibility.

You were typing away on your computer when you noticed the office chatter start to die down, the loud conversations transforming into hushed whispers. The HR probably paid your floor a visit, you thought and continued to work on the report.

“Any reason why you’re here and not in my office?”

Shit.

Your whole body froze at the sound of James’ voice. No wonder the entire floor grew silent, he was always in his office or out for a meeting. He wasn’t one to visit his subordinates but here he was, standing by your cubicle and looking down at you with dark eyes.

You stood up and noticed that your colleagues were watching, whispering to each other and most definitely wondering why James paid you a little visit.

“I’m sorry, I uhh there was a—“

“Mister Barnes!” Your manager greeted, a little too chirpy, when she saw James. “I was just about to head to your office to tell you that she’s working on an important report. She’ll come to your office when she’s done. I’ll make sure of it.” She said, offering James a huge smile that made you want to gag.

James kept his eyes on you, completely ignoring your manager. You licked your lips and tried your best not to break eye contact.

“And when was it okay to bypass your boss’ orders?” James asked your manager, his eyes still trained on yours.

You bit back a smirk when your manager ended up sputtering out an apology while you and James continued eye fucking each other. While being surrounded by your colleagues. This should worry you actually, the attention you were getting from everyone else seeing that the James Barnes went out of his way to see you. You couldn’t care less at the moment though, not when James was undressing you with his gaze.

“She’s not doing any report this morning. I need her in my office.” James said and tipping his head, asking you to follow him.

You were out of your cubicle in a second and quietly trailed behind James on his way to the elevator, ignoring the curious looks from every colleague you passed by. As soon as the both of you stepped inside the elevator, the torture began yet again.

Standing beside James, a little bit closer now than before, you could feel your skin prickle with goosebumps. The thought of him being all over you in a few minutes was driving you insane. Shit, you were really down to fuck him.

“You know, I don’t like waiting.” He said, turning to you.

“I’m sorry, James. I really—“

“Ah ah ah.” James tutted, backing you up against the corner of the lift— a blind spot, to keep the both you away from the CCTV inside. “That’s not how you called me earlier. Why stop now?” He asked, resting an elbow against the wall caging you with his body.

You let out a tiny whimper, your eyes landing on James’ lips as he bit them. “I’m sorry, sir.” You whispered.

He hummed, leaning forward until his nose touched your cheekbone. “Good girl.” He whispered roughly into your ear.

Your hands found their way onto James’ necktie, tugging him down when you were unable to hold back your desire. But then the elevator dinged and the both of you scrambled away from each other when the doors slid open, revealing a few employees coming from a different floor.

A chorus of greetings for James echoed as they slowly filed into the elevator, pushing you and your boss into the very back. You let out a soft gasp when you felt James’ hands on your waist as he moved behind you, feeling his erection press against your back.

“Can’t wait to have you to myself.” He whispered, sliding a hand down to you ass, giving it a firm squeeze that almost had you keening if not for the company.

-

Just a few hours earlier you were worrying about crossing paths with your boss whom you matched with on Tinder. Now, you were still worried but only about whether you and James would get caught while his face was in between your legs as you sat on his desk.

“Oh my god, right there...fuck...” you breathed out, head thrown back when James’ tongue circled your sensitive clit.

The moment you James’ office door slammed shut, he was immediately all over you. Pinning you to the wall as he hungrily kissed you, hands wandering all over your body, gripping whatever he could.

James was desperate to have a taste of you, his eyes showed it all. But surprisingly, he managed to make you even more desperate for him than he was for you. He pulled away from the bruising kiss, made you stand still as he walked over to his desk, plopping down on his seat.

His eyes scanned you hungrily as he removed his coat, followed by his tie and then unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves before rolling it up to his elbows.

“Take your panties off.” James had ordered.

Your breath hitched at the roughness of his voice. Following his orders, you reached beneath your pencil skirt and slipped off your underwear and letting it fall to your ankles before stepping out of them.

“C’mere.��� James said and his voice was so tender it made you feel soft.

It’s amazing how James could go from sounding soft to almost feral, now that he was lapping up your cunt like a starved man while his subordinates went on about their work just outside.

“Let me see those tits. Been wanting to see them since I saw that bikini photo you had on your profile.” James growled, reaching up to pull down the cups of your bra, setting your breasts free.

Okay, maybe you sort of overdid your Tinder profile for someone who wasn’t really interested to hook-up. It was only one beach photo though, but now you weren’t regretting uploading it, not even a bit.

You keened when James pinched a nipple at the same time he started tongue-fucking your cunt. The entire scene was straight out of a porno, like one of those Naughty America skits minus the bad acting and terrible monologue between a CEO and his secretary.

“Keep it down, will ya? Gotta stay quiet, else we might get caught.” James warned, pulling back to watch your wetness drip down from your cunt to your asshole.

You blinked your eyes as you panted, watching James as he inserted two fingers into your sopping pussy. “Fuuuuck, James...” you whimpered.

“That’s not my name, baby.” James said, stilling his fingers and chuckling when you began wiggling your hips to get some friction.

“Sir, please...” you pleaded.

“You’ve always been an obedient one, aren’t you?” James cooed, bending down to lick a stripe against your folds while pumping his fingers in and out.

“Even doing a report that isn’t even yours, so fucking obedient.” He grunted.

Your moan was cut short when James’ phone began to ring, your eyes widening in panic when he answered it with nonchalance as if his fingers weren’t knuckle deep in your pussy.

“Hi, about time you called. You have any updates about the deal? He asked casually as he stood up from his seat.

James went on to discuss business with whoever it was on the other line. And this was all the while you sat on his desk with your skirt bunched up to your waist and legs wide open. You were about to close your legs, thinking that this rendezvous needed to be put on hold, but James was quick to grab your thigh to stop you from doing so.

You made a face at him, incredulous that he didn’t seem to have any plans of stopping. In fact, he started unbuckling his belt while keeping his eyes on you.

“Excuse me, can you hold for a sec?” James spoke into the phone before putting his mic on mute.

“Not a damn sound.” He told you and raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

Your mouth parted and you weren’t sure anymore whether you were nervous or aroused that your boss was about to fuck you while having a conversation over the phone. James pinched the inside of your thigh when you failed to respond.

“Yes, sir.” You quickly breathed out with a nod.

“Hi, sorry about that. Where were we?” James asked as he unzipped his pants.

Tinder never really piqued your interest that much. It was truly boredom that made you download it. There have been times when you felt like the app had its favorites; hearing your friends gush about this amazing guy they met through the app and all that shit. You almost gave up on the app that Friday night but thank goodness James appeared right before you called it quits.

If your friends were lucky for bagging an amazing guy on Tinder, it was safe to say that you hit the fucking jackpot because not only was James an amazing guy in general, but he had a very, very impressive cock as well.

You felt your pussy throb at the sight of his cock, springing free from the confines of his Calvin Kleins. It was thick and the vein on the underside of his shaft was so prominent you might as well give it a standing ovation.

James ran a tongue over his bottom lip, taking it in between his teeth when he stepped in between your legs to slide his cock along your folds. That gesture alone made your eyes roll to the back of your skull as you threw your head back from the pleasure.

James casually talked on the phone as he lined the tip of his cock to your entrance. Placing a finger on his lips to remind you to stay quiet, he watched your face as he slowly slid inside. You choked on your moan when you felt a slight sting from how his cock was stretching you out. Inch by inch, James pushed himself inside of you until he was fully sheathed.

He stretched you out so fucking good that you suddenly clenched around him, making James cough into the phone to mask the grunt that escaped his lips.

“Fuck.” He breathed out. “That sounds like a tight plan, Sam.” James said through gritted teeth, looking at you pointedly as if warning you to stay put.

James started off with slow, languid thrusts, gauging for your reaction to ensure that you wouldn’t make any noise. Unfortunately for you though, James was hitting all the right spots and it would only be a matter of time that you’d end up whimpering as he fucked you onto his desk.

He sped up his thrusts, pushing into you with more force making you slide up onto his desk every time he slammed back in. Your elbows were aching from how you were leaning your entire weight against them but fuck, you wanted to remain in that position to watch James’ cock disappear into your cunt.

James appeared to be struggling from holding back as well, seeing how his face was turning red and how the veins on his neck were starting to show up. His free hand gripped your thigh tightly, keeping your legs open as he began to speed up his pace.

One particular thrust made you see stars and unconsciously, you let out a moan that immediately turned into a gasp when James wrapped his free hand around your throat.

“That sounds great, Sam. When are you free to meet to further discuss the details?” James asked, his eyes glued onto yours as he pounded into you mercilessly.

His grip around your throat tightened each time you squeaked out the tiniest noise. You were so out of it now; James was fucking you so good that it slipped your mind that you were at work and that James was, well, your boss— the CEO of the company actually.

James could feel your pussy flutter around his cock and quickly put his phone on mute before grunting, “C’mon, baby. Cum for me, make a mess on my cock.”

His command spurred you on and your climax hit you with no warning at all. The coil in your abdomen simply snapped, reducing you into a trembling mess as you came around James’ cock the same time he let go of your throat, only to cover your mouth with his hand as you let out a long, muffled whimper.

“Great, I’ll have my secretary schedule the meeting then. It was great talking to you, Sam.” James literally let his phone slip from his hand as soon as the call ended.

He held your waist with both hands as he chased his own orgasm, fucking you harder until he slipped out and came on your mound.

“Fuck...” he panted as he jerked off his cock, milking it until your folds were covered in his release.

Holy fucking shit, your boss was truly down to fuck. And it was one hell of a fuck too.

-

You had just finished cleaning up yourself when you somewhat regained your consciousness. Now what? This was what you were worried about, the aftermath of fucking the CEO.

“You good?” James asked as he sat down on his chair.

You nodded and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, “Yes, sir.”

“Bucky.” James corrected.

“I’m sorry?” Wait, what?

James shrugged, “If we’re going to start working closely, I prefer if you called me by my nickname.” He explained.

You frowned, “I don’t understand?”

What the hell was going on? James sorted through the stack of his papers on his desk (most of which were crumpled when you ended up grabbing them as he fucked you) and handed one over to you.

“You’re promoted as the head of your department.” He announced with a small smile.

Now you were offended. Did he promote you for letting him fuck you? Was this his plan all along? You couldn’t understand a single thing that was going on and James was attentive enough to figure out what you were thinking. You stared at the formal letter discussing your promotion and then back up at James.

“The promotion has nothing to do with us fucking.” He reassured. “Do you think I don’t pay attention to my employees? I know each and everyone in this company, their performance and how they do their jobs. And you...” James said, standing up and walking around his desk until he stood in front of you.

“I’ve been watching you for quite a while now. You have impressive skills. Your reports are exquisite, you know how to manage a team, you’re very smart. Quite the entire package.” He explained with a shrug.

“I’m not sure how my manager will take this given that—“

“That promotion was supposed to be yours but I asked the HR to give it to her instead. You deserve being more than just becoming a manager so now you’re a department head. You’re required to directly report to me moving forward.” James bit his lip as he tipped your chin.

You were at a loss for words. All this time, you thought that your hardwork and efforts haven’t been paying off.

“What do you say?” He asked, tilting his head. “And just so we’re clear, the promotion has been decided before I even stumbled upon your Tinder profile.” He explained.

You let out a chuckle, still unable to believe what had just happened. Your boss fucked you, gave you one of the best orgasms in your entire life and also gave you a promotion. Talk about good fucking luck, all thanks to Tinder.

“Uh I...yes...I’m accepting the promotion.” You said excitedly.

“Good.” James said, taking a step back from you giving you your space back.

“The announcement of the promotion will be e-mailed in a few. Congratulations and I’ll see you tonight.” James said with a smirk.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Tonight?”

“Yeah, we’ll celebrate your promotion. You’re not just the head of your department, baby. You’re mine now.”

-

Everything Bucky Tag List:

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[sparetimeimagines]

That was really interesting. Could you please make light yagami x reader smut with exhibitionist. I want light to embarassed hell out of me.

Attention | Light Yagami

Tags; Smut, Camera, Recording, Dom!Light, Sub!Yn, Exhibitionist ( I tried)

Masterlist

You just wouldn’t stay out of trouble. Prancing around his coworkers like you owned the place in your skimpy outfits, blantly making it known that you are in fact not wearing panties.

He knew you wanted attention -needed the attention- however right now he just couldn’t give it to you.

“Light...” Your whine made his cock hard. The deadpan on his face while he attempted to focus on the work in front of him was cracking at the least. This was getting ridiculous. How can one person just not get the hint? There’s a time and place for everything and right now your boyfriend is about to lose his shit. 

“You promised me two hours ago that you’ll spend some time with me.”

The dark headed boy glares up at you over the few men standing around, casting fear onto you.

“And I’ll get to you when we’re through!” He shouts, his frustration getting the best of him.

“Don’t yell at me.” Glaring at your boyfriend, you watch him shove his hands in his pocket, though you wish they’d shove them down your throat instead.

“Then do what you’re told. Go over there and wait.”

“Light, I’m so tired of you never paying attention to me.” You growl your arms folding across your chest.

There’s no way he’s getting away with this again for the second week in a row.

Light throws the headset from his head on the table and turns to you.

“You want my attention?” He stomps, pinning you to the bed. “Get over there.” He points his finger in your face and steps back to set up his phone. “You want attention? Here. Have everyone’s attention.”

He starts the live recording on a website returning to your body lying on the bed.

“You’re so needy.” He growls pushing your legs up. “I can’t get two seconds of alone time without you constantly bitching in my ear.”

His nails claw into your thighs leaving you with a hiss.

“Shut up.” Light smacks your leg grabbing his phone. “Let’s do a live stream so everyone can see how fucking stupid you are.”

The red light on his camera turns on along with the smirk on his face.

“Look at that pussy. Dripping for me like that pathetic baby she is.” He zooms in on your face. “Do you want my cock baby?”

You bite your lower lip, looking almost in pain nodding to him. “Then get up here and show me.”

He pulls your arm making you tumble over him.

“Wait... I have a better idea.” He makes you sit up, tying your hands behind your back. “That’s better.”

The smirk spread across his lips confirms you’re in for a show.

“What? What do you want?” He taunts you from behind the camera.

“Your cock. I want your cock.” You cling to his leg and he laughs.

“What am I supposed to do about that? You want it, take it out.” The smirk on his lips match that devilish look in his eyes.

A manic laugh leaves his mouth watching you struggle to unbutton his pants. “You want my attention. All eyes are on you Babe.”

Light watches you struggle; hands tied behind your back, your mouth nipping at the button.

“Aww poor needy Baby, do you need help?” He caresses your head, fingers combing your hair as your cheeks flush.

“Why are you being so mean?”

Light’s fingers still against your head.

“Because you’re an annoying little brat.” Those lean fingers curve around your cheek, reigning your hair sharply forcing your face into the camera.

“Go ahead, Baby, tell them how stupid you are.” The camera focuses on your face. “Tell them how much on an annoying brat you are, how thirsty for my cock you are.”

He taunts you, your cheeks growing red and tears coming out of your eyes.

“L-light.” You choke, shaking trying to keep your balance.

“Just do it. I don’t understand what’s so hard to just follow directions. Fuck.”

He unbuttons his pants and lets his cock hit you against the face.

“There. Take it with your needy ass.” You slip down to take him from the bottom of his cock when continues to degrade you. “Always whining about how you don’t get attention. You know that shit pisses me off.” He pulls your head upward again, forcing his cock down your throat.

“How’s that for attention? How about I show this to your mother and your father? Nonetheless the whole world. You dirty slut. I hope you’re happy now.”

Your tear stained cheeks pulls a satisfied smirk to his face. The burn in your throat is threatening to choke you as his cock pushes its limit.

“Mmhmm. Take it. What did I tell you about relaxing your jaw?” He hits the back of your head forcing you to gag on him. “That’s better. Take me baby.” The sucking of your wet hole makes him twitch when he pulls out. Light clutches your jaw forcing you to look him in the face.

The dripping mascara smeared under your eyes has been mentally preparing himself. Doe eyes begging for mercy and all he wants is to make you cry. All he wants to do is show you how much of an embarrassment you are.

“Fucked out lips. Runny eyes. You’re disgusting.”

His hand curves up your face, smearing the makeup under his thumb. “Clean it.”

“What? No.” Your face cringes under his demand and he shoves his thumb on your tongue. “It wasn’t a question.

You gag under pressure, eyes leaking more as he chuckles behind the screen.

“Don’t you dare spit up on me.”

With your soggy eyes, you look up at him, your lips firmly puckered around his thumb.

“Was it that hard?”

He pulls his thumb from your mouth and directs your face to his cock.

“Wet me up. Be glad I’m letting you prep me yourself.” You take him slowly looking him in the eye once more and he pulls out.

“Turn around. Show them your pathetic cunt.”

Slowly turning on your knees, you position yourself with your chest pressed against the bed.

“Thatta girl.” He smacks your cheek gripping your hip, hands crawling to your hands tied behind your back.

A simple tug for him, he pulls your body into his.

“Are you gonna behave?” He whispers, his voice sharp like razor blades into your ear.

“Mmhmm.” You whimper and He chuckles.

“Good.” Light releases your body into the bed once more, this time brushing his cock into your tight lips. “Because I don’t have time for your stupid cunt if you won’t listen.”

He slides into to you with a slow moan moving through your lips.

“Oh? You’re enjoying yourself aren’t you?” He zooms in on your pussy watching your tense body relax with each thrust. The way his cock sounds each time he slides in and out of your gushing cunt makes him want to fill your swollen hole on the spot.

“Mmmhmm.” The smirk grows on your lips as he bottoms into you. “Ugh. Damn Light.”

“So spoiled.” He pulls himself out only to fill you again. “I give you what you want and you cuss me.”

Without mercy, he begins to fuck you full speed. The camera may not have the best visual presentation, but your moans are enough to please their imagination.

“Mm what’s that? Nothing to say?” The sound of your hips smacking is only audible. “Fucked you stupid haven’t I?”

His fingers hook your lips pulling himself into you.

“Talk to me baby.” He laughs as inaudible sounds come from your mouth. “You sound a bit preoccupied.”

Pushing you to your limits, he’s filling your cunt with every inch of his cock.

“I want everyone to witness you acting like a needy whore. Your ass will never interrupt me again while I work. Do you understand?” You nod however he doesn’t recognize it. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Mmhmm.” The smacks of his hips hitting yours directly has your eyes swelling shut, your ass stinging and your pussy filling with his cum.

“Fuck. Your needy cunt. You feel so good.” He fucks his high into you. “Your cunt... fuck. So good...” his moans are lazy and you feel yourself subsiding to his pleasure. “Mmm you’re such a good girl. Feeling me get off makes you feel good. Doesn’t it, Pet.”

It wasn’t a question, but a distraction to pull your arousal. He slips from you, his stringy cum tripping off his head out of your abused pussy.

“You’re pathetic. Disgusting. I won’t let you get off, you’re so pathetic you want to cum from desperation” He rolls his eyes watching your cunt drip through the lens.

“Who owns this pussy?” He fingers your cunt playing with his cum. “Hmm? Who makes you cum?”

“You do, Light.” Your cheeks burn as red as the flesh on your cunt. You bury your face in between your arms and he drags your hips flipping you over to face him and the camera.

“Who’s gonna listen next time so she can cum too?” He taunts you pulling on your arms to expose you. “Hmm? Who’s gonna listen next time.

Your makeup smeared face, fucked out lips and naked body watch him smirk.

“I will, Light.” You whimper feeling defeated.

“You will what?” He smacks your tit watching you wince.

“I will listen next time, Light.”

“Why will you listen, Slut?”

“So I can cum too.”

“That’s right. So you can cum too.” He films your body exposing the cum dripping from your core. “Now go clean yourself up, you disgust me.” He spits on you disconnecting you from the public.

[kurokoros]

thicc | kuroo

Rated: M

Words: 9.2K

Pairing: kuroo x fem!reader

Summary: Kuroo has nice thighs. Unfortunately, you aren’t the only one who notices.

AN: A belated birthday gift for @whats-her-quirk​. Happy (late) birthday, June <3 Have some smut! I’m sorry it’s stupidly long! Also, I’m sorry for any glaring mistakes, I didn’t edit this asdfghjkl

Warnings: smut, jealousy thigh riding, spanking, mild choking, dirty talk (praise and degradation), wall sex, unprotected sex

If you had to pick your favorite thing about volleyball it would be the players. Well, one player in particular. It’s always hard for you to keep your eyes of Kuroo when he plays, your gaze always drifting back to him even when you should be following the ball. More specifically, it’s always hard for you to keep your eyes off his thighs in those sinfully short shorts.

And the practice match tonight is no different, your eyes glued to Kuroo’s legs as he jumps to block a spike, his muscles tensing as he moves, sweat dripping down his skin.

Thank god you let Akaashi drag you with him to the match tonight. Your plan was originally to stay home and study, but Bokuto had whined and begged until Akaashi agreed to watch the match, and somehow you were roped into coming as well. Earlier, you were a little irritated about being dragged out on your one night off, but now you definitely aren’t complaining.

“You’re drooling,” Akaashi tells you. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s smirking.

Reluctant to take your eyes off Kuroo, you jab him with your elbow. “Shut up, Keiji,” you snap, blatantly staring at Kuroo as he lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. Chancing a glance at your friend, you see him doing the same to Bokuto. “Like you’re any better.”

Akaashi has the decency to pretend like he wasn’t just ogling his boyfriend’s glistening abs, but you have zero shame in staring.

Like he can feel your eyes on him, Kuroo looks up at you in the stands. His expression brightens, and he smirks, sending you a wink before turning back to the game. And fuck if that’s not the sexiest thing you’ve seen all day. You can’t wait to wipe that stupid smirk off his face tonight when you—

A loud whine drags you from your daydream, your gaze snapping away from Kuroo only to land on a pouting Yukie. With another whine, she drops her head onto your shoulder, the sound muffled by the too large jacket wrapped around you. Raising an eyebrow, you glance at Kaori over Yukie’s head, but the other girl only sighs. On your other side, Akaashi leans forward enough to look at Yukie as well.

Before you can ask her what’s wrong, Yukie’s arms slide around your waist. She pulls her face from your arm and props her chin against your shoulder, a heavy, dramatic sigh falling from her mouth. “Ugh,” she groans, looking at you and Akaashi, who only blinks back at her, “you two are so lucky to have such hot boyfriends.”

You almost choke on your spit when her words register. Behind her, Kaori looks absolutely scandalized, her eyes wide with horror. You’re barely able to smother your laughter when you catch a glimpse of Akaashi’s bewildered expression.

He blinks at Yukie again, mouth opening and then closing just as quickly before he finally settles on a confused, “Thank you.”

Yukie nods, her gaze sliding back to the volleyball game going on below. She hums in thought as she watches the ball move, eyes latching onto a familiar player. “Bokuto is thick,” she continues suddenly, rambling to herself. “Thick. With two Cs. Like, damn, look at him next to Oikawa’s pancake ass and tell me that that—what do the kids say, cake?—isn’t the nicest thing you’ve ever seen. Not that Oikawa isn’t hot too, but you know how I like a nice ass.”

You’re trying not to wheeze at this point, your shoulders shaking with barely muffled giggles as Yukie’s attention shifts to Oikawa’s flat ass. Next to you, Akaashi looks like he’d rather be literally anywhere else, and you knock your shoulder against his. His exasperated expression only makes you laugh harder.

Of course, that’s when Yukie turns her attention to your boyfriend.

“Oooh, and don’t get me started on Kuroo. Those are some pretty damn delicious arms. And his thighs! God, he could crush me with those and I’d say thanks.” Your laughter cuts off abruptly, your shoulder stiff beneath Yukie’s chin as her eyes wander over Kuroo slowly, watching as he jumps to successfully block a spike. She hums appreciatively, and you bristle immediately, a sick feeling swirling in the pit of your stomach the longer she looks at him. “They aren’t as beefy as Daichi’s, but Kuroo can—”

Kaori slaps a hand over Yukie’s mouth before she can continue. “Okay, that’s enough out of you,” she says, trying to pull your whining friend off of you while sharing a look with Akaashi.

Yukie only clings to you tighter, arms squeezing around your torso. “What, I’m single! I can look at anyone I want. I just can’t touch, pinch, or lick. It’s not my fault every guy we know is stupidly hot and taken.” Yukie stops suddenly, patting your thigh almost comfortingly. “Congratulations on scoring a hot piece of ass by the way.”

The possessiveness that flares in your chest is shoved back down as you remind yourself that this is Yukie. Your friend. She’s just being ridiculously thirsty as usual. It’s not a big deal. Nope. Not at all.

“Don’t you have a thing with Konoha?” you ask, desperate to change the subject from the aforementioned hot piece of ass that you’re dating. From what you remember from your last girl’s night, Yukie had gone on a handful of dates with the former Fukurodani player and things were going pretty well.

The question only makes Yukie’s expression darken. Her lazy grin disappears, replaced with narrowed eyes and a pout. “He doesn’t seem to think so,” she says, tone dripping with venom that makes your eyes widen. Before you can ask what she means, her mood shifts again. Yukie’s eyes brighten. She throws her arms up, yelling in excitement as the team scores a point.

You lean around her to look at Kaori, bemusement slowly turning to realization. “Is she drunk?”

A tired nod is all the response you need. “Very. She got into the wine while I was in class this afternoon. Apparently Konoha went out with another girl the other night? I’m not sure.”

Yeah, that’ll do it. “Of course, she did.” You settle back in your seat and allow Yukie to lean against your shoulder once more, only half listening to her rambling on about the game and the hot players on both teams. Now that you’re aware of it, you can hear the slight slur in the way she’s talking. That makes you feel a little bit better about her talking so openly about Kuroo. Just a little.

Jealousy is a bitch.

You almost forget about what Yukie said by the time the game is done. Almost. The players are just finishing cleaning up and gathering their things, and you, Akaashi, Kaori, and an intoxicated Yukie are waiting just outside the gym, chatting quietly as you wait for your friends to come out.

It isn’t long before the door to the locker room slams open, cutting Kaori off mid-sentence as the boys leave the gym. Footsteps pound against the floor. You look up just in time to watch Bokuto launch himself through the air and nearly tackle Akaashi to the floor, three inches taller and nearly thirty pounds heavier. Akaashi grunts in surprise, barely able to hold himself up as Bokuto’s arms and legs wrap around him. A noisy kiss is pressed against Akaashi’s cheek, but your attention is already somewhere else.

There’s a stupid grin spreading across your face as soon as you see Kuroo coming down the hallway flanked by Oikawa and Daichi, the three deep in conversation. Even from here you can see Kuroo’s eyes rolling, and you figure they’re talking about Bokuto’s frankly exhausting amount of energy post-game.

You consider calling out to him, but decide to take another second to stare at him instead. It’s unfair how good he looks after a workout, and you might as well enjoy it before he gets the chance to tease you for ogling him.

Yukie isn’t nearly as tactful. “Kuroo!” she calls across the room, waving her arms to get his attention. She nearly smacks you across the face with her flailing, giggling when you nearly drop her in surprise. Kaori hurriedly grabs Yukie as the drunk girl starts to slip from your grasp, and behind you Akaashi is still being smothered in Bokuto’s affections despite his complaints about sweat and PDA.

Kuroo’s head snaps up at the sound of his name, attention turning from Oikawa to Yukie, then to you. A grin immediately makes its way onto his face, his expression lighting up when he sees you. Oikawa says something that makes Kuroo shove him, and one of their other teammates laughs. Waving them off, Kuroo shrugs his bag higher on his shoulder, quickly making his way over to you. A mischievous smile tugs at his lips, and you know he’s just waiting to wrap you up in a bear hug and soak in some much-needed attention.

He’s halfway across the room when Yukie stops giggling long enough to shout, “Nice thighs!”

Kuroo’s steps falter, his eyes wide.

This time, you do drop Yukie. Kaori yelps at the extra weight, not expecting you to let go so suddenly and leave her as the only thing keeping Yukie from falling on her face. Yukie only starts giggling even harder, and you can hear Bokuto snickering as well from where he’s still wrapped around Akaashi.

It takes Kuroo a second to regain his bearings, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly as Oikawa laughs obnoxiously. Daichi at least has the decency to pretend he isn’t laughing as Kuroo calls back a confused “Thanks?” Shaking his head, Kuroo’s gaze returns to you, but you’re busy staring at Yukie.

Like before, there’s a sick feeling swirling around in your stomach. You know exactly what it is and force down the bitter, jealous, possessiveness that rises in your throat. It’s a feeling that you hate, but sometimes it’s hard to brush aside, no matter how much you trust Kuroo and no matter how obvious it is that Yukie is just being herself, albeit significantly more intoxicated.

By the time your attention snaps away from Yukie, the boys are closer. Oikawa is still snickering at your boyfriend’s expense, much to Kuroo’s annoyance. The two are exchanging quips, but Kuroo only has eyes for you.

Unfortunately, Yukie is still giggling and swaying next to you, you’re still more jealous than you’d ever admit out loud, and Daichi just happens to be the closest.

It’s almost an unspoken rule that Kuroo is always the first player you congratulate on a game. Usually, he has you wrapped up in a tight embrace as soon as he sees you, strong arms lifting you straight off the ground in his excitement. Just like Bokuto with Akaashi.

So, when Daichi goes to slip around you and help Kaori with Yukie, it comes as a surprise to everyone when you stop him with a light touch on the bare part of his upper arm. “Good game!” is all that you say to him, sending him a smile before letting go just as quickly once he nods, grateful, albeit confused.

You don’t notice the look that Bokuto and Akaashi share behind you.

Kuroo doesn’t look bothered at all by your brief interaction with Daichi, and somehow that makes you feel even worse. Lean arms wrap around your waist and tug you against a firm chest. Warm, slightly chapped lips press a gentle kiss to your temple. “You ready to go home, baby?” he murmurs against your ear.

One of his hands traces the length of your spine until he’s cupping the back of your neck, thumb sweeping across your skin.

Leaning into him, you tilt your head back to meet his eyes. “Yeah.” You wrap your own arms around him, holding on just as tight. “Good game.”

You’ve only been at Kuroo’s apartment for thirty minutes and you’re already about two seconds away from throwing something at Akaashi. With your volleyball player boyfriends wanting to clean up post-game, you’ve been alone with your best friend since Kuroo pressed a sloppy kiss to your forehead before racing Bokuto to the bathroom, only narrowly beating the other man—who sat outside the door sulking until Kuroo was done.

Normally, you wouldn’t mind the situation, but you can already tell that Akaashi has something he wants to say, and it’s a conversation that you really don’t want to have tonight.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you don’t dare look at him, all but feeling his stare burning into the side of your face as you stir a spoonful of honey into your tea and watch it dissolve. It’s too quiet in the kitchen. The clinking of your spoon against the side of your mug is too loud, and even Bokuto’s muffled, tone-deaf singing coming from the bathroom down the hall doesn’t lighten the mood. Nose wrinkling, you stop stirring your tea. An irritated sigh slips from your mouth.

He’s still staring, leaning against the counter across from you. Ignoring Akaashi is proving to be more difficult than you initially anticipated. You’re painfully aware of his presence. He’s scrutinizing you, brows furrowed in thought, and you know as soon as you look at him, he’ll know exactly what you’re thinking.

“So,” he starts casually—too casually—eyeing you over the rim of his mug, “are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

You consider flat out ignoring him, but decide that’s too mean. “Isn’t it too late for you to be interrogating me, Keiji?” you ask, propping your chin against one hand as you finally look at him.

He raises an eyebrow at your word choice. “Who said anything about interrogating you?”

“I’m not upset,” you tell him, you know, like a liar. “I’m just tired. It’s getting late.” Another lie. It’s barely ten. Usually on nights when you stay over, you and Kuroo are up late watching movies or fooling around in his room.

“Okay,” he says, dropping it immediately, much to your surprise. He doesn’t look at you as he grabs his tea off the counter. The mug makes it halfway to his mouth before Akaashi sets it back down with a sigh. “Actually, no. I’m not humoring you tonight.” The look he sends you is stern. “It’s okay for you to be upset about what Yukie said, but it’s not fair to—”

Before he can really start to lecture you, he’s cut off by an enthusiastic blur of blue and gray nearly lunging over the counter to tackle him in a hug. “Keiji!” Bokuto croons, face buried in his boyfriend’s neck.

Akaashi grunts as the wind is knocked out of him, Bokuto giving him a tight squeeze around the middle. “Kou, don’t be so loud,” he chastises, but doesn’t shove Bokuto away. With a sigh, he allows himself to be kissed on the cheek and cuddled, casual indifference broken by a secretive, fond smile.

You consider teasing him, but decide against it, content to let them be.

A moment later, long arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you against a firm chest as lips press against your temple, then your cheek. “Hey, kitten,” Kuroo murmurs, voice muffled as he leans down to kiss the side of your neck. His messy hair tickles your cheek, still damp from his shower, and you automatically relax as the familiar scent of his shampoo tickles your nose. Another kiss is placed just below your jaw, where he can feel your pulse jump under his touch. His lips curl into a smile that you know only means trouble, and you shudder as Kuroo’s fingers inch beneath the hem of your shirt.

Akaashi rolls his eyes at Kuroo’s PDA, and Bokuto wiggles his eyebrows. They’re both used to your boyfriend being a sexual menace by now. He’s like this more often than not after a game. The adrenalin makes him grabby.

Your breath hitches as Kuroo’s hands get a little bolder, “Behave,” you tell him, but don’t try to stop him. He won’t get too handsy with Bokuto and Akaashi right across the counter. And, honestly, after what happened earlier, you’re just as needy as he is right now.

His smirk widens. “You like me better when I don’t.” A sneaky hand snakes around your hips to pinch your ass and you squeal.

You reach around to smack his shoulder as he cackles. “Tetsurou!”

He backs off but doesn’t let you go completely, arms moving back to your waist and wrapping around you tightly. His lips press against the side of your head apologetically, coaxing you to lean back against him, and you roll your eyes as you feel him shake with barely muffled laughter. Abandoning your tea on the counter, you place your hands on his arms.

That seems to placate him for the time being. At least, enough for him to turn his attention to your friends across the counter. Kuroo makes himself comfortable behind you, subtly resting more of his weight against your back as he and Bokuto begin to bicker about another practice match they have later this week.

With his boyfriend momentarily distracted, Akaashi goes back to observing you from across the counter, which you purposely ignore, instead focusing on Bokuto’s animated expressions and the gentle rumble of Kuroo’s chest vibrating against your back every time he speaks. Undeterred by your refusal to look at him, Akaashi crosses his arms, staring at you even harder, like somehow he’ll be able to see right through you.

“Do we really have to go to the gym tomorrow?” Kuroo whines. “It’s Saturday, bro, we can take one day off.”

Bokuto gasps, scandalized. “Never skip leg day, Kuroo!” Huffing, he jabs a finger in your boyfriend’s direction. “You want to be dummy thick like Daichi, don’t you?” he asks, much to your amusement. Akaashi looks like he’s in physical pain, and it’s all you can do to keep from cackling right then.

Kuroo’s grip on you tightens just a fraction. The arms that are wrapped around your waist tense, but when you try to look at him, Kuroo tucks you under his chin. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “I think my thighs are thick enough, thanks,” he tells Bokuto dryly. He squeezes your hip when your fingers brush against his forearm, and his tone turns teasing as his attention returns to you. “What do you think, baby?”

The mention of his thighs makes you tense, too. Yukie’s gushing compliments from the game punching straight through your chest and make your stomach twist into knots. And your good mood plummets. There’s a sour taste in the back of your mouth, and you aren’t quick enough to stop a sarcastic quip from slipping out.

“Why don’t you go ask Yukie? I’m sure she’ll tell you how thick they are.” Your tone is clipped, sharp, and you only realize you’ve said it out loud when you feel Kuroo stiffen behind you again, but by then it’s too late.

The tight grip he has on your waist loosens in surprise, Kuroo’s hands falling limply to his sides as he stares down at you in utter bewilderment. “What?” He sounds as hurt as he does confused. The softness of his tone strikes you between your ribs and makes you wince.

Horrified, all you can do is stare at the pair across the counter. Bokuto looks at you, then Kuroo, his eyes wide. Beside him, Akaashi just sighs, sending you a look that’s a clear cross between “you fucked up” and “I tried to tell you”, and for once you can’t even argue with that.

Unsure how to respond to the mess you’ve made, you send Akaashi a pleading look. If anyone can diffuse a situation before it starts, it’s Akaashi. He meets your gaze across the counter, his eyebrows furrowing just the slightest as he looks from you, to Kuroo, and back to you.

“Kou,” Akaashi says suddenly, breaking the tense silence by turning to his boyfriend, “why don’t we go see Konoha tonight? It’s been awhile since we saw him.”

“What?” Bokuto replies, confused, still staring at you and Kuroo owlishly. “Keiji, we just saw him yesterday—oh!” It takes him a second, but then he’s grabbing Akaashi’s hand and all but dragging the other man towards the door. “Right! Let’s go!” Bokuto glances at you and Kuroo over his shoulder, grinning. “You two have fun tonight! But not too much fun, or we won’t get the deposit back on—ouch!” He pouts, rubbing his shoulder where Akaashi smacked him.

“We’ll be back in an hour,” Akaashi says to you. Then, to Kuroo, “Not on the counter, please.”

The insinuation makes your eyes widen, and you shoot Akaashi a nasty look, which he ignores. Talk it out or fuck, is what he doesn’t say out loud, and you tense in anticipation despite the concoction of other emotions swirling in your stomach.

Kuroo makes a low sound in the back of his throat and leans forward again, caging you in as his palms press against the countertop on either side of you. With his chest flush against your back, you can feel how tense he is. “No promises.”

Rolling his eyes, Akaashi grabs his keys out of the bowl by the door and allows Bokuto to pull him out of the apartment. The door closes with more force than necessary, loud slam giving way to silence as soon as you and Kuroo are alone.

Pinned between him and the counter like this, you can feel the heat of his breath puffing against the side of your neck. His fingers flex against the counter top, and your gaze is drawn to the lean muscles of his arms on either side of you.

Yukie’s comments claw at you again, and you grimace. It’s a stupid thing to fixate on. You feel ridiculous for letting it bother you in the first place, and you’re sure Kuroo is confused. Maybe upset. You aren’t usually snappy with him. And Akaashi was right. It’s not fair for you to take your jealousy out on Kuroo.

Sighing, you ready yourself to apologize.

“Are you going to keep acting like a little brat, or are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” His lips brush against your skin as he speaks, touch soft compared to his tone. Your eyes widen as he presses himself up against your back. There isn’t an inch of space left between you. An open-mouthed kiss is placed just below your ear, and you shudder as his teeth graze the side of your neck. When you don’t respond, Kuroo sighs. “I’m not going to ask you again,” he warns you.

Kuroo leans forward, keeping you pinned to the counter as one of his hands drifts back to your waist. The pad of his thumb grazes your hip where your shirt has ridden up, teasing you. Your breath catches. His weight against your back is equal parts comforting and arousing. And Kuroo knows exactly how to touch you, how to turn you into a shivering mess until you’re practically begging for him.

It’s hard not to do exactly that when his breath is fanning over the side of your neck and his fingers are slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. Hot and wet, his lips graze a sensitive spot below your jaw. He doesn’t kiss you, but he’s close, and you feel the slightest twitch of his mouth. You can’t tell if it’s a smile or if your silence is pissing him off. The latter makes your pulse jump, your heart racing.

“Yukie was talking about you at the game,” you finally tell him. It sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud. Petty jealousy. But you can’t help it sometimes. Not when he’s all tousled hair and sly smirks that could drive anyone crazy.

Kuroo pauses. “Oh?” Warm lips place a soft kiss on your neck, and your head falls back against his shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut. An appreciative sound slips from his throat. Another kiss is pressed to your throat, hot and open-mouthed. Shivers run down your spine as his hips rock forward against your ass. “And what was she saying about me?”

His teeth scrape over your skin, just enough for you to feel it, and you jolt. A breathy whine escapes you before you can stop it. Kuroo chuckles, voice deeper than usual, and you try not to squirm as he nips at you, voice a low murmur as he speaks. “Don’t get shy on me now, kitten,” he taunts, “you were so mouthy a minute ago.”

When you take too long to answer, Kuroo’s fingers sneak beneath your shirt to pinch your hip. You yelp, squirming away from his fingers, but that only drives you further back against him. Grunting, Kuroo pins your hips against the counter. Already half-hard, he grinds against your ass lazily. The thin fabric of his sweats does nothing to hide his growing arousal, and warmth rushes through you, liquid heat pooling in your belly.

“Your arms,” you manage to tell him. He acknowledges you with a hum, sound muffled by his teeth and tongue as he continues to tease your neck. “And your thighs.” Your next admission is softer and a little bitter. “She wouldn’t stop staring at you.” A lot of girls stare at him. They always have. It shouldn’t still get to you, not when you’re the one he’s touching like this, hands wandering over your skin and his mouth sucking a bruise onto your neck.

There’s nothing to be jealous of when he’s already yours, and he seems intent on proving that to you.

“Yeah?” Kuroo asks. “Is that why you were trying to make me jealous after the game?” Smugness practically rolls from him in waves. His lips curl into a smirk. “Hmm? Trying to get me all riled up?”

You barely choke out a, “Yes.”

It surprises you when Kuroo’s mouth rips away from your neck. His touch is gone for an agonizing moment before reappearing on your cheek. The kiss he places there is softer this time, sweeter, and it makes your heart swell in your chest as he shifts to whisper in your ear. “You know I’m yours, right?” His hand is pressed against your abdomen now, fingers spread out to cover as much of you as possible. He waits until you nod and sighs. “Good.” He kisses your cheek again, then your jaw, his lips wandering back to your neck.

And just like that a switch seems to flip in him again. “And you’re mine,” Kuroo continues, voice lower than before. “Or do I have to remind you who you belong to?” His hand slides up your stomach, inching towards your chest.

“Tetsu,” you gasp, arching into his clever hand.

“What do you call me, kitten?” It’s more of a demand than a question, and you keen as his fingers slip beneath your bra. His calloused thumb brushes against your nipple before he pinches it between his fingers just to watch you squirm.

Breath catching, you wet your bottom lip. “Sir,” you correct yourself, letting him tilt your head to the side, positioning you just the way he wants you. Your easy compliance makes him grin. Kuroo grinds against your ass again, harder this time, and you squeeze your thighs together as heat licks across your spine.

“Good girl.”

His lips meet your jaw in a chaste kiss, and he squeezes your breast once, palming you before letting go. As his hand snakes out from beneath your shirt, you expect him to yank you around, force your head back and dominate you with a rough kiss, so you’re surprised when his touch leaves you entirely. Like before, his palms press against the top of the counter. Even his weight leaves your back, an inch of space between you that feels too wide and painfully close all at once. The heat of his breath tickles the back of your neck, and you shudder at his proximity, desperate for his touch.

There’s a whiny tone to your voice when you call out his name. “Tetsu,” you whimper, torn between begging for him and holding onto your stubborn pride. Anything to get him to touch you again. Already, there’s an ache forming in the pit of your stomach, and he’s hardly done anything yet.

When he ignores you, you huff. Taking matters into your own hands, you press your palms to the counter top and grind yourself back against his crotch. Satisfaction bursts in your chest as he makes a surprised sound in the back of his throat, but your pleased grin at catching him off-guard disappears as his hand comes down on your ass with a sharp slap.

This time, you yelp, mouth dropping open in a silent cry as his big hand squeezes your ass over your shorts. “So impatient,” Kuroo muses, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “Are you gonna behave for me, or are you gonna keep acting like a brat?” There’s a condescending edge to his tone, and you wish it didn’t turn you on as much as it did. And he knows it too.

As he waits for you to respond, Kuroo places his hands on your hips. His thumbs trace slow circles on your sides, slowly inching your shirt upwards as he fights the urge to rip the thin fabric over your head and take in every inch of your skin under his greedy touch.

And fuck if that’s not exactly what you want right now. It’s a miracle that you aren’t already trembling for him, hyper-aware of his every move. His heated touch. “I’ll behave,” you tell him. The chilled edge of the counter presses against your abdomen as he drags your top higher, but the cold is chased away by his palms ghosting over your sides.

“What was that, kitten?” You don’t have to look at him to know that he’s smirking, pleased with himself for making you such a mess already.

You wet your lips again. “I’ll behave, sir,” you repeat yourself, louder this time.

You’re rewarded with another pleased sound rumbling in his chest. “That’s my good girl,” Kuroo says again. His hands are on your ribs now, his thumbs tracing the underside of your lacy bra. Your shirt is carefully tugged off over your head before he carelessly tosses it to the floor, hands going right back to your painfully soft skin. Both of you revel in the contact.

Kuroo’s mouth is back on your neck immediately, lip wandering over every inch of newly bared skin available to him, all teeth and tongue as he peppers your skin with faint hickeys and love-bites. His teeth graze a sensitive spot between your neck and shoulder. His hands are everywhere. Palming your breasts. Drawing circles and shapes across your sides. Slipping between your legs to stroke your thighs and flirt with the hem of your shorts, teasingly close to where you really want him.

And then his hand wraps around your throat. He doesn’t choke you, grip loose enough for you to breathe, but the slightest pressure has goosebumps erupting across your skin. Your legs tremble as he squeezes just the slightest.

He nips at your exposed neck, and your breath hitches as two long fingers trace your slit over your shorts, applying just enough pressure to your clit for your hips to jump into his touch. Your head falls back against his shoulder again, your eyes squeezing shut as your mouth drops open.

A frustrated whine builds in your throat as he pulls away, but he’s quick to hush you, his hand slipping under the waist of your shorts to tug them down your hips. Left in just your panties, you rub your thighs together, flushing when you feel just how wet you are already. Your panties stick to your skin in a way that’s almost embarrassing, and you know it’ll only stroke Kuroo’s ego even harder.

“Fuck,” Kuroo murmurs as your panties slide down to your ankles. “I’ve been wanting to take these off you all damn day.” He leans back to get a good look at you, half-naked and dripping for him, and the sight goes right to his cock. “Such a cute little ass.” A hard spank to your right cheek makes you gasp, the sharp sting of pain making your eyes water. He’s quick to soothe the tender spot, chuckling, low and throaty, a deep baritone that hits you right between the legs.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was not to bend you over right in front of Bokuto and Akaashi?” he continues. “I bet you would have liked that, huh? Dirty little slut.” Kuroo’s hand is back between your legs, teasing your wet slit and sliding over your clit until you’re panting.

His grip shifts around your throat. “Fuck,” you mewl. “Tetsu—Tetsu, please.” You can’t finish the plea, a loud squeal cutting you off as he pinches your clit harshly between his fingers before letting go, pain mixed with the pleasure. “Oh, god.”

“Bend over, kitten,” he tells you, lips against your ear. A hand on your lower back guides you down to the counter, and you comply willingly, stretching up on your toes as your torso is pressed against the smooth surface. Kuroo strokes your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lower lip teasingly. “Don’t move.”

You stay perfectly still even as he backs away, legs quivering from the angle and the stretch, precariously balanced on your toes with the counter digging into your hips. None of that matters though. Not the mild discomfort or the cold seeping into your torso. All you can feel is Kuroo behind you, his gaze burning into your back as he trails the tips of his fingers over the curve of your ass, admiring you.

There’s something a bit like awe in his tone as he murmurs, “Fuck, look at you.” His hands ghost over your hips and thighs, like he isn’t sure where he wants to touch you. “So fucking pretty. Such a good slut for me.”

Kuroo’s hand slides up your back, his fingers tracing the dip of your spine until he reaches the base of your neck, where his long fingers wrap around you, forcing you down harder against the counter top. A low hum slips from his mouth as he looks down at you, sharp eyes drinking in the sight of you, how pretty you look underneath him as you try not to squirm. Leaning over you, he grinds his cock against the back of your thigh teasingly. “Is this what you want, kitten?” he asks you, breath hot against your ear. “You want me to bend you over the counter and fuck you senseless? Make you beg me to let you come all over my cock?”

He squeezes the back of your neck as a breathy sound escapes your mouth. Kuroo kisses your cheek. His lips brush against you as he murmurs, “Well that’s too fucking bad.”

You yelp as you’re suddenly yanked off the counter. Hands latch onto your hips as soon as your feet are on the ground, and you’re ripped around so that you’re facing Kuroo for the first time since he came up behind you earlier. His hazel eyes are almost golden in the kitchen light, and there’s a feral glint in his gaze as he looks at you. “You wanna be naughty? Tease me?” he asks, leaning in until his lips are hovering just above yours. “Come on, kitten, you should know better than that.”

His hand wraps around your throat again, tighter this time, and you’re forced to follow him as he steps away from the counter. Kuroo doesn’t kiss you as he guides you through his apartment, making you walk backwards so you can’t see where he’s taking you.

“What was it that Yukie was saying about my thighs earlier?” he asks you. “What did she say that made you so damn mad?”

“Tetsu,” you whimper.

“You know you aren’t very subtle, kitten.” Belatedly, you realize he’s taken you to his room. Kuroo throws the door shut behind you, but doesn’t bother to lock it. Your cunt clenches at the thought of Bokuto or Akaashi walking in, but Kuroo is quick to drag your attention back to him. “You think I didn’t see you staring at me the entire game? You couldn’t take your damn eyes off me.”

Kuroo lets go of your neck, his hand trailing up to your jaw as he drags his thumb across your bottom lip. He watches you as his hand falls back to his side, and his lips curve upwards as he fists the back of his shirt, yanking the plain t-shirt off in one smooth motion. You can’t help the way your gaze drops to his bare chest and stomach, greedy eyes taking in each defined muscle from years of playing volleyball.

Your gaze only slides lower as his sweatpants drop to the floor as well, leaving him in only a pair of boxers that leave his thick thighs on display. Fuck, if you weren’t dripping before, you definitely are now.

So busy staring at his legs, you don’t notice that his smile is all teeth.

Kuroo drops down onto the edge of the bed, and you gasp as he grabs your hips. Yanking you forward, you’re pulled down to him. Chest to chest. Not an inch of space left between you as he situates you over his leg, forcing you to straddle his thigh. “What were you thinking about, hmm?” he asks as you steady yourself on his broad shoulders, feet barely finding purchase on the floor. Heat sinks into you as his thumbs tease the lacy edge of your underwear. As if to taunt you, he leans in close, breath fanning over your lips. “Was it this?”

With that mocking tone, he shifts beneath you, his hands tight on your hips as he grinds you down against his thigh. The rough drag against your clit makes your eyes flutter shut. Your head drops forward against his shoulder, a shuddering breath falling from your parted lips.

“You wanna fuck yourself on my thigh, kitten?” To emphasize his question, his flexes beneath you, pressing harder against your wet cunt. The angle is just right to have him applying pressure perfectly to your clit. When you try to grind against him, Kuroo grabs your hips, holding you in place. And, when you try it again, he lets go of one of your hips long enough give you a warning smack on the outside of your thigh. The sting makes you shudder. “Dirty girl,” he coos, reaching around to squeeze your ass.

“Please,” you whimper as he mouths at the curve of your jaw. Kuroo kisses across your neck, nipping at you as he works his way down to your shoulder. One of his hands slides between your spread thighs to feel how wet you are, and you have to bite your lip to keep from whimpering as he laughs. You jerk, arching into his teasing touch.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he notes as his fingers slip beneath the damp, flimsy fabric of your panties. Kuroo hums, pleased at the way your arousal coats his fingers.

He circles your clit slowly, each touch sending little pleasurable shocks through you. The knot in your stomach only coils tighter. “Asshole,” you bite out, choking on a moan as he pulls his hand away, leaving you more frustrated than you were a minute ago.

Your tone only gets another laugh from him, deeper and darker than before. “Ouch,” he says, brushing your hair away from your neck, “kitty’s got claws tonight.” His hand wraps around your throat again, long fingers curling around your fragile neck. You still, inhaling sharply, and Kuroo groans as he feels your pulse start to race beneath his hand.

He pulls you further against his chest, naked skin pressed flush against yours. “I thought you said you were going to behave for me,” he reminds you, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth. As his lips trail across your cheek, he shifts his thigh underneath you, dragging himself against your pussy slowly. Kuroo stops when he reaches your ear; his grip on your throat tightens, squeezing enough to steal your breath. “You that jealous? Or do you want me to punish you?”

The question is almost a low growl, and you shiver, thighs squeezing around his muscular one. “Tetsu,” you gasp around the intoxicating grip he has on your throat. “Please, I can’t—I need you,” if what you finally manage to spit out, thoughts muddled and head heavy with arousal.

“Well, you better get to it then,” he tells you, adjusting his grip on your throat. His other hand squeezes tightly around your hip, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise. When you don’t move, he bounces his leg. It tears a moan from your chest. “Come on, you know what to do. Why don’t you give me a little show?”

It’s hard to breathe, let alone move. His presence is suffocating in the best way. The hand around your throat. His thigh between yours. The feel of his skin beneath your fingers and the steady beat of his heart where his chest is pressed to yours. All of it has you on edge.

The need swirling in your stomach forces you to move. A slow rhythm picks up as you slide over his thigh, grinding down on him. The tight grip you have on his shoulders is the only thing holding you up, and you shudder at the friction against your swollen clit. A sound of approval leaves Kuroo, and he hums against the side of your jaw, grip tightening just the slightest around your neck.

The grip he has on your hip loosens suddenly. His fingers slides along your side teasingly, his touch so soft that it makes your heart squeeze. You press your chest into his touch as he palms your breast. Deft fingers make quick work of the flimsy fabric, his hand slipping underneath to pinch and roll your nipple just like before. It isn’t long before he’s turned you into a quivering, moaning mess.

The ache between your legs only worsens with each slow roll of your hips against his thigh. The friction is intoxicating, but it isn’t enough. It isn’t what you need. Right now, you want to feel him surrounding you, holding you down as he whispers filthy things in your ear, making you moan for him. You want the pressure of his cock inside you, stretching you, the roughness of his fingers circling your clit until you’re so sensitive you have to beg him to stop.

“That’s it,” he mumbles. “Be a good girl for me and maybe I’ll let you cum.”

Little garbled pleas of his name fall from your lips as he pinches your nipple again, the sharp sting making you lurch forward against his chest.

Releasing your breast, he reaches around your back, fiddling with the clasp of your bra for a second before the fabric comes undone, straps sliding down your arms. You’re barely aware of him prying your fingers from his shoulder and tossing the fabric aside, but when he crushes you against his broad chest, the heat that surrounds you is overwhelming.

Kuroo draws you into a kiss, hot and heavy enough to make your head spin. Letting go of your throat, both of his hands make their way back to your hips, helping you grind down against him harder, faster, your rhythm picking up speed as your legs start to twitch and tremble.

He smacks your ass, gripping tightly and kneading your cheek. The sting distracts you as his other hand disappears beneath your soaked panties. Teasingly, he drags his fingers against your cunt, slick fluid clinging to his skin. “Look at you making a sloppy mess of my leg already.” He chuckles, rubbing two fingers against your clit to make you gasp. “And I’ve barely fucking touched you yet.”

The pace he sets up is hard and fast, determined to send you hurtling towards the edge. Your thighs clench around his, your fingers digging into his shoulders so tightly you swear you might break the skin. By now, your eyes are squeezed shut, your mouth open as you pant and gasp his name. You press yourself tighter to his chest. Sweat-slicked skin makes it easy to slide over his thigh as he plays with your clit.

By now, you’re so turned on that it almost hurts. Each harsh pinch of his fingers on your clit sends shocks of pleasure ripping through you, the coil in your lower belly winding tighter and tighter with every roll of your hips. He slaps your ass suddenly, still thumbing your clit, and the combined sensations make you choke on a moan. Between his fingers and the steady rocking of your hips, you’re going to cum. And you’re going to cum hard.

Kuroo forces you right to the edge; and then he takes it away.

You almost sob as he pulls his fingers out of your panties, Kuroo quick to grab your hips and hold you still, keep you from chasing his touch.

“No,” you gasp, trying to grind down on his thigh despite his iron grip. The lack of stimulation makes you whine, tears welling in your eyes. “No. Tetsu. Oh god, sir, please.”

He releases one of your hips to brush his fingers against your cheek, though the gentleness doesn’t last. Kuroo grips your chin between his fingers, tilting your chin to make you look at him. “I did say I’d have to punish you, kitten,” he reminds you. There’s an apology in his tone, but his wicked smile says he’s anything but. His thumb traces your bottom lip. “Don’t pout. You did so well.” You’re drawn into a sultry kiss that ends too soon. His words are muffled against your lips. “You’re gonna take me so fucking well. Just like a good girl. My good girl.”

“Let me make it up to you,” he says, but it sounds like a taunt.

It’s the only warning you get before his hands are on your ass, gravity shifting beneath you. Kuroo lurches off the bed, hauling you against his chest with ease. Your legs wrap around his waist reflexively, hands desperately grasping at his shoulders to hold yourself up. The bite of your fingernails on his skin makes him groan,

He squeezes your ass appreciatively before slamming you up against the nearest wall.

It knocks the air out of your lungs, and you wince, but Kuroo doesn’t you a moment to breathe before he devours you. His lips are feverish against yours, his tongue in your mouth and his teeth nipping at you until you’re whining and grinding against his cock. Spread open like this, you can only moan into his mouth as the tip brushes against your clit through your underwear.

For once, he doesn’t waste time teasing you, both of you too riled up to wait as he shoves his underwear down. You’re squirming by now, trying to pull him closer with your legs around his hips. A low groan tears from his throat as he shoves your panties aside, his thick cock rubbing against your dripping pussy.

Kuroo’s cock shoves inside of you easily, you’re so wet for him. The stretch burns in the best way, pure ecstasy ripping through you. You whimper as you struggle to take all of him, and your cunt clenches around him so tightly that he tears his mouth from yours to hiss and curse.

“You like that, kitten?” he asks you, groaning as he slaps one hand against the wall to steady himself. The other digs into your thigh. “You like it when it hurts? So fucking naughty.” He presses a sloppy kiss against the side of your neck.

He fucks you roughly. The wall scrapes against your back when he moves, and the little sounds you make only feed his fast pace. He’s perfect inside of you, hard and hot and thick enough to pound against your sweet spot with every harsh thrust of his hips. The wet slap of his cock filling you and your breathy panting and moaning are the only sounds in the apartment, so loud that your neighbors are sure to hear.

You tremble as Kuroo fucks you, only able to cling to him as pleasure makes you dizzy. You’re so close. You’re so, so close, and he must know it with the way you’re tightening around him with every roll of your hips.

His teeth dig into the curve of your neck and shoulder, and you yelp, fisting at his hair. He moans as you pull on the messy strands clenched in your fist, and his cock shoves inside of you even harder. “You wanna act like a little slut?” he pants against your ear, hand coming down on the outside of your thigh. “I’ll treat you like one. You think Daichi could make you feel this good?”

You moan, barely able to shake your head. You don’t want Daichi. You’ve never wanted Daichi. “Just you,” you choke out.

“Good girl.” And then his fingers are on your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles onto your swollen nerves.

Pleasure rips through you as you cum, white-hot and electric. The knot in your stomach snaps as your orgasm hits you, slamming the breath from your lungs. Your hips jerk between him and the wall. Your limbs tremble, heavy, and you shudder as you drop your head against his shoulder, biting down to keep yourself from shouting. The grip you have on his back slips, and your fingernails rake down his back, marking him up.

“Shit,” he sneers. Kuroo fucks you through it, grinding against you harder as your pussy clenches around his cock with every thrust, each rougher than the last. Calloused fingers continue to roll over your clit, though not as frantic as before. His thumb draws lazy circles against your sensitive nerves, swirling and playing with your clit until you’re shaking again.

Whimpering, you try to squirm away from his hand as the pleasure becomes overwhelming, stimulation bordering on too much, too fast until it hurts. “Tetsu,” you gasp, choking out his name. “I can’t—”

He slaps your thigh once. Twice. Then grabs your ass and grinds you against his cock, reaching so deep inside you. “No, no, no,” he mumbles nonsensically. “Not yet. We’re not done yet. Not until you give me one more.” Your walls flutter around him, slick walls sucking him in. “Fuck, that’s it, kitten. Just like that.” He wets his lips, mouth on your neck. “Cum for me again. Such, a good girl.”

Kuroo’s hand wraps around your throat again, squeezing hard. You choke, unable to breathe, and your eyes squeeze shut. You pull his hair. Rake your fingernails down his back. Desperate for anything to hold onto as your muscles twitch and tense. You’re so close. You’re so fucking close.

Squealing, you flinch as his clever fingers sneak back to your clit, determined to make you cum one more time.

And you do, clenching around him beautifully, pussy gripping him tight. All you can do is shake and gasp as another orgasm tears through you, the coil in your gut snapping for the second time tonight. Dark spots float across your vision as you cum on his cock, Kuroo moaning against your ear as he follows you. Hot, thick fluid fills you up as he continues to thrust inside of you, drawing out your release.

You gasp as his hand leaves your throat, panting and dizzy.

Kuroo cradles you against his chest, careful not to drop you as he presses his lips against your temple, murmuring words too low for you to hear. He pulls out slowly, his cum dripping down your thighs as he carries you to his bed.

It’s a few minutes later, when you’re curled up beside him and drowsy, that you remember everything from earlier.

“I’m sorry for trying to use Daichi to make you jealous,” you murmur against the crook of his neck, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers lazily caress your skin, drawing mindless patterns across your back as you cuddle against his side. “I don’t…” you bite your lip as you trail off, and Kuroo’s arm tightens around your waist almost protectively. “I don’t want you to feel like that. I don’t want you to think you can’t trust me. And I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you.”

Your voice is barely a whisper by the end, words breathed against his chest and swallowed up by the stillness of the room.

Kuroo tilts his chin to rest his head against yours. His fingers still against your side as he glances at you, focusing on the curve of your jaw in the half-light. “It’s okay,” he tells you just as softly. Gently, he pulls you a little closer, heaving a loud, obnoxious sigh. “I get it, he’s just so dummy thick. How could anyone resist that?”

Trying not to laugh, you weakly slap at his bare chest, but Kuroo just grabs your hand and smoothly laces his fingers with yours. “Stop,” you whine, tucking your flushed face against his shoulder. Warm lips press against your knuckles, and you can feel him trying not to laugh underneath you.

“Am I not thick enough for you, kitten?” he continues, voice dripping with faux hurt. You roll your eyes, peeking up at him only to find a pout on his lips. At your silence, Kuroo props himself up on his elbow so that he can look at you. “Damn, maybe Bokuto’s right, I shouldn’t skip leg day tomorrow. Shit, maybe I should go right now—”

He moves to get off the bed and you groan, unamused. “Tetsu.” You catch his hand before he can go far, and he lets you pull him down on top of you. “Stop teasing me.”

“You love it,” he murmurs, pressing a sloppy kiss against your cheek. “You know, maybe Yukie should compliment my thighs more. You’re pretty hot when you’re jealous.” His lips move to your neck, and you try not to roll your eyes again. As if he didn’t just fuck the hell out of you because he was jealous. Before you get the chance, Kuroo leans back to look at you. His knuckles slide against your cheek. “You okay? Need anything.” You shake your head and he kisses your cheek. “That’s my good girl.” He’s quiet for a minute. “You know I’m yours, right?”

Heart clenching in your chest, you murmur an affirmative.

“Good.”

As he settles back down, you let him cover you like a clingy, weighted blanket, his touch comforting as he wraps himself around you.

The sweet moment ends abruptly. The apartment door opens and closes loudly, a warning that your roommates are home. It’s quiet for a moment, but then Akaashi’s loud “son of a bitch!” when he sees your clothes on the floor makes your eyes fly open.

Kuroo buries his face against your hair and cackles.

[royivia]

The Neighborhood

Sibyl Campbell wasn’t even mad when she woke up on a hot ass May morning in her room, drenched in sweat. Instead, she bypassed anger and went straight to resignation because the HVAC system in the Robert Moses Houses was broken — again — and she didn’t have the time or the energy to bitch about it. In fact, the heating and cooling stayed shutting off across Groundview Gardens. It had become a predictable kind of disappointment in the neighborhood, more so than flooding during superstorms or the fact that no matter which part of the neighborhood you were in, you could feel the rumbling of the shuttle every seven minutes.

Sibyl had spent all night coughing and turning in her bed from the claustrophobic heat that agitated her asthma. Her mother had already gone to work, otherwise, she would have heard Mildred Campbell yelling in indignant patwa over the phone at an Arcadian Realty & Management representative “to fix the damn AC” before she threatened to call 311 on their ass, and report them to the city. Both Mildred and the AR&M rep knew it was an empty threat, but to shut her up, they’d call someone who’d tinker with the system and the air would come back on for a couple of days or so, before it chipped out. And then, the routine would start again.

Sibyl checked the weather. It was already ninety-five degrees. She took a puff from her inhaler and scrolled through her timeline. The same picture of a little girl with a big bright smile captioned with different variations of “RIP Destiny’’ and prayers for her family flooded her feed. Sibyl forced herself out of bed. The sweat on her body made her feel uncomfortable. She hauled a clunky, old portable air conditioner out from her closet and plugged it into the wall. Management would fine them for the spike in their energy use, but she didn’t care. She pushed the power button on, and waited for the box to cough out some hot air before it eventually cooled the room down from a humid haze to a lackluster lukewarm.

#

SOIL had been trying to meet with AR&M, the neighborhood’s collective management company, about the HVAC problem with little to no success for close to three years. They had circulated petitions. Tried shaming them in the local news. They even considered organizing a rent strike, which would have done nothing because everybody who lived in Groundview Gardens received subsidies from the city that made rent practically free. And as much as people were pissed about freezing their asses off in the winter or not being able to breathe during the summer, nobody was tryna fight free rent. So, SOIL decided to annoy the shit out of their landlords instead. On their way into their coolly ventilated corporate office buildings, occupying their lobbies, picketing in front of their luxury condos, and most effectively, managing to damage one, or two, of their solar-powered generators in the hottest month New York City had ever seen. A few arrests and some pissed off rich people later, management finally agreed to hold a town hall to hear from their tenants, which meant SOIL’s next plan of action was to convince as many people as possible to show up. Nefi Ramos saw it as a challenge that they could surely accomplish. Her neighbors were like camels to water in a desert. They were thirsty, and had learned to go without for as long as they needed to, but lead them to a watering hole, and they would drink.

“It’s too fucking hot,” she shouted into her megaphone. She was standing in front of one of the many large screens around Groundview that cycled between ads for things they couldn’t afford and AR&M’s infamous “neighborhoods of tomorrow” promotional video. Most people just used the screens to check train arrival times and the air quality. The next shuttle was two minutes away, and the air was currently “unsafe for vulnerable groups.”

“Are we just supposed to take this shit?” Nefi asked. “We don’t deserve to live like this.”

Around her, the rest of SOIL handed out cold bottles of water, popsicles, and fruit cups from coolers filled with melting ice, along with flyers to people walking towards the train platform. They walked past the demonstration uninterestedly, only stopping long enough to take a bottle of water. Everyone had gotten used to Nefi shouting at them to care about things beyond their control, and learned to tune her and the rest of her angry SOILders out, taking their flyers every now and then only to chuck them into the nearest trash can. This morning, a few people did stop to listen for a second or two, the heat getting the better of them, before they saw the time flicker on the screen behind her, and realized that they’d be late for work.

Sibyl, her camera always strapped to her body, snapped a few shots of her neighbor. Nefi was like a loud older cousin who wasn’t afraid of a little trouble, or frankly anything. She both awed and terrified Sibyl.

“It’s time for these slumlords to sweat,” Nefi went on. “We need to organize. Our voices are stronger together — ”

“What makes you think anyone gives a shit about what happens to us down here?”

Mr. Solomon had been on his way to the bodega to buy his morning loosie, but stopped to sit in his walker, taking a moment to catch his breath.

“That’s exactly what they want us to think, vecino.” Nefi softened her voice in that way she did when she was trying not to shout. “The more we believe that we can’t make them pay attention to us, the longer they get away with treating us like shit.”

“I remember when they first moved people into Groundview.” In the midst of reminiscing, Mr. Solomon started coughing aggressively, prompting someone to hand him a bottle of water which he drank quickly before continuing. “We were protesting and shouting in the streets, but they didn’t care then. They’re not gonna care now.” The history lesson quickly turned into yet another heated debate about neighborhood politics between him and some of the other SOILders trying to convince him to take one of their flyers. Sibyl used the opportunity to catch Nefi’s attention, who waved her over enthusiastically.

“Yo, did you hear?” Nefi handed her a fruit cup. “We finally got a meeting with the overlords! Are you gonna come?”

“Nahhh, Nefi. You know that’s not really my thing…I’m not an activist.” Nefi was always trying to recruit her for some radical ass shit that just never seemed worth the trouble of explaining to Sibyl’s very Jamaican mother.

“Nobody said you had to be. You live in this neighborhood, and have just as much say about what happens in it as the suits who own it.” Nefi sensed Sibyl’s hesitation. “Please Sib! Come so we have more people in the room. You don’t have to say anything. We just want those dicks to see that we have power. People power!”

Nefi was very proud of the fact that she had an uncle, or it might have been a second cousin, who had been a member of the Young Lords and, drawing on their legacy of fighting for the liberation of Puerto Ricans, was always going on about the oppressive nature of renting, and self-determination for poor people, and community empowerment, and, and…

“Aight — I’ll go,” Sibyl assured her, trying to cut her sermon short. Nefi hugged her and thanked her a million times before shoving a stack of flyers into her arms to pass out and post up around the neighborhood.

#

The singular garden in Groundview Gardens was usually ten degrees cooler than anywhere else in the neighborhood. It was created — not by the architects who had designed New York City’s newest development, but instead — by the community out of desperation as an escape from their cramped apartments. During the days, the older folks used it to grow their herbs, medicines, and flowers for their healing practices. The local farmers grew produce that fed the community. After school and on the weekends, all the kids hung out at the community center at the heart of the garden where they learned to dance, make art, and play music.

By the time Sybil got there later that night, Groundview’s collective of artists had already transformed the greenspace into their Saturday night hangout. One of the DJs was spinning records. People were dancing, drinking, smoking, having a good time. Dante, Sage, and Felix had bottles in their hands when Sibyl joined them at their usual spot. Their clothes were covered in colorful patches of spray paint.

“Did you finish it? When do I get to see it?,” she asked them excitedly. She hadn’t seen her friends in about a week, which meant they were either done with their latest mural or were taking a break before they disappeared for another few days. “Soon.” Dante looked tired, but excitement danced in his eyes. “Shoot anything good lately?” He leaned in reaching for her camera, but she quickly pulled back from him.

He laughed at her and took a sip of beer. Dante was her oldest friend out of the trio. There was a quiet protectiveness between the two of them Sibyl hoped they could always maintain.

“It’s been a minute since I last checked.”

“How come?” Dante asked.

Sibyl usually couldn’t wait to hold herself up in the darkroom at the community center to develop her film, but she had been putting off her latest batch. She’d fallen in love with photography while taking classes at the center as a kid. So much so that one day, her mother came home with an old film camera and Sibyl never put it down. That first summer, she ran around the neighborhood asking to take people’s photos. It felt so natural to her, though it had taken a while to gain people’s trust. Take their pictures for what? What was she going to do with them? Skeptics, but curious, they eventually agreed. They’d uncomfortably pose or force a smile, and then immediately ask her to see it because if they didn’t look good, she’d have to delete it. Then she’d explain how film photography worked, and they’d cuss her out for wasting their time.

Weeks later, she’d find them again — at the corner store, or at the People’s Garden, and give them the glossy prints she’d developed. Through her lens she could see they were secretly afraid she’d see the things they’d all spent so much time and concern trying to hide. But those things would all melt away when they’d see themselves — some for the first time — with the same worth and value she saw in them. After that Sibyl didn’t have to ask. They booked her for quinces and graduation parties and engagement photos. People would stop her when they saw her around. “So you not gonna take my picture? Girl, you know I look good today. Quit playing and snap something quick,” and they’d pose with more pride than before, as if to officially celebrate the triumph of living, something they didn’t know they had accomplished until they saw proof.

After seeing so many of her neighbors’ pictures, some of which she took, circulate in online memorials, something lodged itself in the pit of Sibyl’s gut. She couldn’t fully identify what it was, but it left her with little energy to feel or do anything else outside of going to school and work. But she didn’t know how to explain that to her friends without being weird or bringing down the mood, so she just said, “Been busy with school.” She quickly changed the subject before anyone tried to press her on it.

“Are ya gonna go to the town hall?”

“What town hall?” Sage asked.

“The one with management. About the HVACs.” Sibyl handed them flyers from her bag. “I promised Nefi I’d go, but I don’t want to go by myself. Someone come with me?”

“Pass,” Felix snorted.

“I’ll go. Should be fun,” Sage said with a smirk on their face. “I wanna hear what those assholes say their excuse is for not fixing shit.”

“I’ll save ya the trip. Sorry, you’re too poor for us to care,” Felix mocked. “It’s not like they’re all of a sudden gonna have a conscience ya know.”

“You mad negative bro,” Dante said.

“What?” Felix asked animatedly. “You really trying to spend the rest of your life down here? We all need to focus on getting the fuck up outta here instead of asking them to fix some janky ass vents.”

It’s not like anybody was trying to spend any part of their lives in Groundview, but lately it seemed like the rest of their lives wouldn’t take so long. The sound of the shuttle, more muffled than anywhere else, reverberated throughout the garden.

“I’m out the first chance I get,” Dante admitted. His answer wasn’t surprising to any of them, but this was the first time Sibyl heard him say it out loud. Dante was one of the more talented and disciplined artists in the collective. It would only be a matter of time before he blew up and left.

“What happens when ya leave though?” Sage was upset. “You get out, but what about the rest of us? Not everybody can up and leave right? Shouldn’t we try and make shit better for everyone.”

“That’s a trap, Sage. Shit’s not gonna get better,” Felix said harshly. “Does it ever hit ya, like really hit ya that there’s no future for us here? Everybody’s so busy working to get by, we don’t even have time to realize how fucked up everything is.”

“I’m not saying it’s perfect.” Sage shot back. “I just don’t think we have to turn our back on our community. That’s fucked up.”

“Don’t take it so personally, Sage,” Dante cut in. “Nobody’s turning their backs on anyone.”

“Besides, no offense to Nefi n ‘em,” Felix said, “but everybody’s wasting their time if they think those suits are gonna fix anything.”

Sibyl listened quietly. Groundview was all they ever knew. She had never considered leaving it, and yet she also was afraid to admit that she thought Felix might be right.

#

The middle school auditorium only had like fifteen people — half were members of SOIL — in there that Tuesday night, which was more than Nefi had expected. The handful of people who told her they wanted to go to the town hall, but couldn’t, were either working, or would get home too late from work and would have to cook dinner or iron school uniforms for the next day. Everyone else couldn’t be bothered; like Felix, they thought it was a waste of time. That nothing would come from it. Sibyl didn’t show. No one who attended the town hall actually thought anything would come from it either. If AR&M had wanted to do something, they would have done it a long ass time ago. The people who did show up were mostly Nefi’s elderly neighbors who were always ready to spit their anger into a mic because if they weren’t going to get a solution, they would at least get to cuss someone out, and have an audience to witness it.

Nefi worked her way around the room to thank people for coming. These things always felt like family reunions to her. Old friends hugging and catching up because they hadn’t seen each other in a minute, with work and family and life moving everybody in this or that direction, even though they all still lived in the same neighborhood. She finished up her greetings and joined the rest of SOIL, huddled at the front of the room. They went over the order of speakers, before Benjy, the group’s designated peacemaker for the evening, asked everyone to quiet down and get seated so they could start. He reminded everyone to keep it civil. Then one by one, people got up to the mic to direct their anger at the empty faces in tailored suits, sitting at the table in front of them, who could all care less about the people shouting at them. There was a lot of finger snapping, and “that’s right” and “tell-em’s” from the crowd throughout.

Finally about half an hour in, a young woman, with a little girl clutching on to the left side of her body, got up to the mic.

“My name is Mercy Brooks, and this is my daughter Angelique.” Her voice was shaking, in that soft, angry, pissed off kinda way that warranted attention. Nefi hushed the crowd down so that she could speak her peace without interruption. “My daughter’s asthma acts up almost every day. She can’t breathe. Ya should be fucking ashamed of yaselves. Our babies are dying down here. Is that what we deserve because we can’t do better? We just supposed to take that shit. You ever thought about what it’s like to live down here, huh? I’m sure ya don’t cause if you did, you wouldn’t think it was right to keep people living like this. Or do ya not care cause it’s not your kids?”

There was silence from the table, which was worse than feigning any sympathy or remorse. It set the room off into chants, which meant it was over from there. AR&M security shut that shit down quick right on cue, and if you weren’t arrested that night, you were brusquely escorted out. Management promised to set up some vague kind of task force with representatives from the neighborhood, but it led to nothing. A fucking disappointment, that’s what that shit was. And it wasn’t a surprise to Nefi or anyone else, but it hurt all the same. A few weeks later, that same woman who got up and spoke, her daughter Angelique died because they couldn’t get her to the hospital in time after she had an asthma attack. AR&M still hadn’t fixed the vents in their housing complex. And they still didn’t change the filters or fix the ducts in the other housing complexes so that it wouldn’t happen again after that. SOIL kept trying to drum up some kind of anger. Anything to get people to feel something. To do something.

Murals of Destiny, Angelique, and every other person who had died that year quietly popped up around the neighborhood. Vigils and altars with flowers and prayer candles accompanied them. But as much as people were upset or sad, no one knew what else to do except mourn and move on because it was clear to everyone that no one gave a damn about them. And so, what was the point?

##

They called it the Subterranean Housing and Inner-City Tunnels project, or S.H.I.T. for short. A plan to provide affordable housing for everyone who had experienced the worst housing crisis New York City had ever seen. People were evicted left and right. Families were priced out of their homes and neighborhoods. The shelter system, swelled beyond its limits for decades, finally collapsed. The streets and subway were overrun with people in sleeping bags and blankets. So nothing new, but it finally annoyed enough people to warrant action.

Naturally, the city contracted its most blood thirsty developers, AR&M, to help solve the problem, which was kinda like asking an arsonist to put out a fire they had proudly started. To no one’s surprise, they didn’t want to forfeit any of their luxury condos that sat empty while people slept on the streets. Instead, they struck a deal to create the largest scale of public housing of its kind, in exchange for absolute, unregulated freedom. The only problem was there was literally no land left for them to develop because they had already bought it all. And then one day, the chief architect of S.H.I.T. had an epiphany when he felt the uptown 6 train rumbling beneath his feet. There was an entire part of the city he had yet to consider. Where a majority of the people who needed housing were already living. Sprawling housing complexes with multi-unit apartments appeared overnight 150 feet underground, with the pilot site in the South Bronx. A new subway station and miles and miles of foot tunnels connected New York’s newest neighborhood to the world above it.

There were protests, anger, outrage! That the country’s most progressive city could so blatantly, and quickly!, shove all of its poor people out of sight only seemed to bother the poor people because everyone else praised S.H.I.T. as the most innovative solution of the 21st century. New York City had done the impossible, and housed every single person. That was grounds for celebration and federal funding. Plans were quickly announced to roll S.H.I.T. out across every major city in the country. To ease people’s concerns, the mayor at the time, eyeing a presidential run, promised that his own city’s underground neighborhood would just be temporary — transitional housing at best. Transitional to what, no one could answer. Temporary until when? Until they could think of something else. One year became five, became ten, etc., etc.

In time, AR&M and the city eventually added a couple schools, a hospital, a library, and a sad excuse for a park that residents eventually turned into the People’s Garden. Folks opened up bodegas, 99 cent and liquor stores, and made themselves at home. It didn’t take long to accept living where they did as another fact of life because they had no other choice. Over time, the plan to move everyone back aboveground disappeared from the city’s housing briefings. Then, the briefings disappeared altogether. The high rates of asthma and chronic bronchitis that seemed to come from living in Groundview occasionally made the nightly news, but not enough to cause major concern or stop neighborhoods like Groundview from popping up across the country.

There were still those who remembered life before Groundview, and vowed to move out of the neighborhood as soon as the opportunity arrived. They kept the dream close to their hearts. And if it didn’t happen during their lifetimes, they’d make sure it would happen during their children’s. More realized it was a fool’s dream and moved on. Eventually though, everyone adapted to the vibrations of the shuttle inside their kitchens. The white, fluorescent lighting that lit every corner of their world like a harsh, artificial sun. The damp, muggy air that arrested their chests if they tried to breathe too freely. And the humming of the massive ventilation systems that heated and cooled their cramped, windowless apartments — when they decided to work.

#

An Artist’s Treatise on Survival

I don’t know how we do it sometimes. That is, put up with all the shit that life throws at us. Work jobs that exhaust us with little in return. Take care of our families with little to no support. Do so much with so little. And still be able to smile or laugh in the midst of it all. Then, I remember: it’s because we have to. No one else is gonna pay our bills if we don’t. No one else is gonna put food on our tables for us. No one’s gonna bail us out. Naturally, you learn to hustle. To channel your frustrations into working around the way things are because trying to fix things that were built broken takes time you don’t have when you’re just trying to get by.

What gets me even more is how we’ve perfected survival itself as an artform, and created whole new types of living from abject desperation. We wasn’t supposed to, much less find reasons to enjoy life, but we did anyway. Some even take on the added challenge of trying to make life more bearable, more enjoyable, for the rest of us. For example, sometimes when it felt like there wasn’t much to appreciate. That you were resigned to the fate of being alive and not living and didn’t deserve any better. You’d see a mural. On the way to the laundromat. Or the corner store. While you were running errands. Or walking home, bone tired, from the train after another long, shitty day at work. And like all good, beautiful things, it reminded you to breathe. You didn’t always know who created it. Or couldn’t remember if it was there the day before even though you’ve walked that way millions of times. You just knew that it was, in its own way, encouraging you to make it to tomorrow. Bright bursts of color and story interrupting the mundane, tiresome every day you’d come to accept with no protest. After a while, it becomes easier to accept a simple truth about living. That we can still manage to find a reason to laugh, to enjoy life, despite it all, and that we can be the source of our own power. It’s kind of audacious of us to still try and find joy even if it means creating it for ourselves. Maybe that’s why we do it.

#

At first, it started off as harmless tagging, and they kept it up chasing the thrill of not getting caught. Then they tried to outdo each other. It became a sport: who could paint the better mural. Get the most buzz around the neighborhood before they got painted over. But the better they got, and the more the murals looked legit, the longer they stayed up. Until they stopped painting over them altogether because people loved them so much. They didn’t belong to the creators anymore. They belonged to the neighborhood. And before they knew it, they’d created something much bigger than any of them could have imagined.

The tunnels just seemed like the next natural step for the graffiti artists in Groundview. Miles and miles of blank walls? Dante, especially, saw something to keep him busy after his brother died. Besides, painting murals felt like the only thing he could do. He’d stopped going to school. He’d just paint. When he ran out of ideas to paint, he asked Sibyl to see her portraits, and he started replicating them across the neighborhood. He was relentless — portrait after portrait. Sage and Felix started helping him out because they worried he would lose it, spending all that time in the tunnels by himself. He was grasping for something, but he didn’t know what it was. Until he saw it, lying on the ground near a garbage can.

The Groundview Residents’ List of Demands

The People of Groundview Gardens demand financial and social restitution for all residents, especially those who developed chronic health issues from living underground and/or have lost loved ones because of it.

The People demand New York City move all Groundview residents back above ground into rent subsidized apartments.

The People demand New York City disband all underground housing policies so that no one else has to live in Groundview Gardens or any other housing project like it.

Until the first three demands are met, The People demand Arcadian Realty & Management fix the HVAC systems in every single housing complex it owns and regularly maintain them.

Once Groundview Gardens is fully evacuated, The People demand New York City turn the entire neighborhood into a public memorial to commemorate the loss of life, preserving the art and The People’s Garden.

After the town hall, and the supposed task force, proved to be a bust, SOIL had created the demands to deliver to the city. They circulated leaflets with the five bullet points, but no one would take them seriously. Dante himself, admittedly, had checked out, and had ignored SOIL’s literature, up until that point. The demands appeared overnight on the walls of the tunnels in bold white paint for everyone to see. They were the last thing everyone saw coming into Groundview and the first thing they saw from the shuttle on their commutes leaving the neighborhood.

#

Nefi kept waiting for the moment when her neighbors would suddenly realize that they were angry — very angry. They’d decide they were fed up once and for all and refuse to settle for less anymore. They’d riot in the streets. They’d protest in front of AR&M’s offices. They’d refuse to go into work until something changed. Their anger would get everyone’s attention. Her own rage had burned intensely inside her for as long as she knew herself. She learned to channel it through SOIL trying to make Groundview a better place, even though everyone told her it wasn’t worth it; it wasn’t possible; it was a waste of time. But it was either that or literally set some shit on fire. But, it didn’t matter how many rallies, tenant meetings, town halls, or demonstrations SOIL organized. Nefi learned that she couldn’t have a revolution without people. And the people? They were tired and overworked. They didn’t have time to overthrow anything. And, even though no one would admit it, they were also afraid — afraid of change, of what they could lose, of realizing that something greater than what they had come to know was possible. So to save themselves, and Nefi, further disappointment, they rebuffed her again, and again: Nefi you need to chill. Girl you’re doing too much. Don’t waste your time. Nothing’s gonna change. After the town hall, and years and years of holding hope, the fire inside Nefi dulled until she couldn’t recognize herself anymore. She conceded her rage for high-functioning hopelessness. She withdrew from her friends, from her neighbors, from SOIL, only tapping into enough energy to wake up, go to work, and make her way back home. The days bled into each other, so much so that when the night Nefi had been waiting for eventually came later that August, it caught her completely off guard. It caught everyone off guard because it wasn’t the HVACs or the deaths of toddlers, or even the wrath towards AR&M that finally set people off. But it shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone who’s lived in New York City long enough because it was the one thing that could incite the level of large-scale anarchic rage Nefi had been holding out for — and that was the MTA.

#

The night in question, the air was hot, muggy, and heavy with potential. Like any other evening, people were heading home from work, the collective exhaustion weighing down on their bodies, stamped into their faces. They waited together, huddled in a sweaty mass on the sweltering Third Ave-138th St. platform for a train that felt like it would never come. When an empty shuttle finally did arrive in the station, the doors opened to the grating sound of a man’s voice coming through the train’s speaker system:

“Attention passengers. This is your conductor speaking. Due to unplanned construction up ahead, we are disbanding all trains to Groundview Gardens at this time. I repeat, we are disbanding all trains to Groundview. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

This shit had happened plenty of times before. A disruption of service that made it difficult to get home. Everybody was so used to it and had even come to expect it. The inconvenience of being poor and powerless consistently working against them. It too had become a predictable kind of disappointment. Even the audible, collective disapproval was muted and slightly rehearsed, nothing more than a reflex. They would have to find their way home, some two-odd miles on foot, through the tunnels. But that night, Ms. Claudette, who had been on her feet all day at work taking care of her elderly patient and still had to go home and iron her scrubs for the next day, was fucking tired. She had paid her fare. And, she had paid her taxes. She had also paid her dues in this country — twenty-seven years worth of struggle and debasement — for what? This could not be it. Life could not just be disappointment. The least she expected was that the train would get her home like it was supposed to. She decided that she was going to let the conductor have a piece of her mind.

“This is nonsense. Tell me, just tell me, how am I supposed to get home?” Her boisterous St. Lucian accent traveled well beyond her.

Folks who heard her echoed in agreement, hyping her up. “They have the nerve to raise prices for this shitty ass service,” someone said loudly. They all collectively decided to board the empty train. The construction workers in their hard hats and massive boots, the women with their large tote bags and their tiredness neatly folded away into themselves. They were all going to sit on the train, until it started up again. It was going to take them home.

The conductor was tired too. Nothing as deep-seated as his passengers, but something not too far removed. He had no skin in this game though, and his job didn’t pay him enough to care. He was annoyed; they were keeping him from clocking out. And so, after listening to a bunch of people passionately curse him out, he told them to, and I quote:

“Write a letter.”

It happened so fast. I mean, when I say shit popped off before anyone could swallow their spit. Someone knocked over the trash cans on the platform. Someone else, set them on fire, with what to this day no one really knows, but their latent anger seemed to have ignited what they didn’t know was inside them.

The riots lasted for weeks. People boycotted the MTA and didn’t go to work.

The restaurants aboveground shuttered because they were understaffed. Construction on all the new developments stopped because the workers, a lot of whom lived in Groundview, refused to show up. People aboveground had to stay home because their nannies and house cleaners weren’t able to come and relieve them like they had come to rely on. Groundview had forced the city to come to a complete stop. The mayor held a press conference saying she didn’t condone the behavior of the vandals at the train station. SOIL led protests and demonstrations in front of city hall until she had to hold a second press conference to apologize for her statements at the first press conference. She promised she was going to make sure that it would never happen again — not just the riots, but the unnecessary deaths in Groundview, the resentment the residents felt towards the city. They were going to fix the HVACs, and the MTA! They were going to heal the great divide the city had long thrived on once and for all, if, and only if, the workers called off the strike and went back to work. It sounded so sincere, everyone wanted to believe it. Tired of holding all the power, they asked SOIL to represent them at the bargaining table. Deals were made. Hands were shaken. And things went back to a semblance of normal with a few slight adjustments.

#

Sibyl was heading out of her apartment when she saw a piece of yellow paper on her front door.

60 DAYS NOTICE TO INCREASE RENT

Mildred Campbell 207 167th St. (GG), Unit 10E

Beginning September 1, 2041, the monthly rent will go up an additional 5% for all units located in the Robert Moses Houses. Please make the appropriate adjustments within the AR&M digital payment system.

We appreciate your continued tenancy.

Sincerely, Arcadian Realty & Management

Pieces of yellow paper were taped to every single door she passed on her way to the train. It had been a year since the last time the heating or cooling had stopped working. Everyone held their breath celebrating, just in case that was when the heat would shut off or the air would decide to stop working again, but it never did. The number of deaths and hospitalizations went down, and everyone seemed content enough after the strikes and boycott ended, to go back to work. The trains even went back to running as efficiently as possible for the MTA, always teetering on the edge of collapse, but never actually approaching it for fear of recreating another opportunity for mass rebellion.

On her way to the shuttle, Sibyl saw a group of people congregating near one of the murals. She clutched her camera in her hand, ready to raise it to her face, when she heard a voice she didn’t recognize shouting through a megaphone. It belonged to a man she had never seen around the neighborhood before, and he was walking backwards while talking to a group of people Sibyl also didn’t recognize.

“Groundview is the latest up and coming neighborhood in the city,” his voice echoed. “Some of the most promising young artists have gotten their start in this urban — ”

She didn’t stick around to hear more.

After the riots, small groups of tourists descended regularly on Groundview like vultures to see the murals they had seen in viral photographs. They’d rudely block the paths from the train platform, or take up way too much space on the footpaths of the tunnels posing in front of the murals for pictures. Not long after that came the opportunistic hacks who had never stepped foot in Groundview before, running “culture tours’’ around the neighborhood. The residents felt like they were stuck in some sick and twisted museum. Out of annoyance, they banned the tours and non-residents from the People’s Garden, preserving their one last sanctuary in the community.

Sibyl had been in the middle of it all the first night of the riots. She was on the subway platform on her way home from classes and started snapping pictures once she realized what was going on, catching the fervent energy better than anyone could describe to everyone else who wasn’t there. She had no idea her photos would end up everywhere. But they did, and they not only helped draw attention to the plight of her neighborhood. They also drew attention to the wealth of talent germinating underneath the city. Her photos of her friends, their murals, and the other members of her neighborhood, had also attracted a lot of attention that felt good to the young artists who all of a sudden saw opportunities previously unavailable to them right at their doorsteps.

The shuttle arrived on the platform before her. Sibyl boarded the cool air-conditioned cart; the beads of sweat on her skin quickly evaporated. Nefi had warned them to be careful early on. “These things always end up having you exploit your own people for a cheap come up, and it’s never worth it.” Everyone thought she was trippin’. There Nefi was again just looking for another cause to fight now that her crusade against A&RM had seemed to come to an end. Even Sibyl thought she was overreacting at first. People were finally paying attention to Groundview. If she and the rest of the artists could help show the world how important the lives of the people who lived there were, maybe things could change for the better.

The train disappeared into the tunnel towards the 138th St. station. A lot of things had quietly changed over the last year and a half. Many of the families who had lost loved ones, including Dante’s, received settlements from the city and moved out of the neighborhood, leaving a sizable number of the apartments empty. Leading to perhaps the most visible addition to the neighborhood. AR&M had a couple of the younger artists looking for their own big break paint over SOIL’s list of demands and replaced it with a more “aesthetically inviting” message for the new visitors to the neighborhood: Welcome to the Mural District. Sibyl had only heard the tour guides call it that, in an unveiled attempt to rebrand Groundview. It didn’t take too long to find out where they got it from. The name and the welcome sign led to intense debates between the artists in the collective, including her friends, about people selling out and what they owed to each other as artists and their neighbors, which led to a few people splitting off and doing their own thing. The mural made Sibyl sick to her stomach, and she tried her best to avoid seeing it on her commutes. Then one day, someone started covering it up with black graffiti making the message unreadable.

No one knew who it was because they never got caught, but it didn’t matter to AR&M. Like clockwork the next morning, they had cleaners paint a fresh welcome message over it in time for the daily tours at noon. When the welcome message started appearing on the AR&M screens, the screens started getting covered in graffiti too. After a few months, Sibyl expected the guerilla painters to give up and move on, but they didn’t. Fresh graffiti kept appearing over the mural and on the screens, prompting AR&M to deploy their clean up crews, and then the routine would start again. Sibyl looked out the window in anticipation. “OURS.” The word, written over and over again across the mural, quickly came into view and then vanished out of sight.

[tailorvizsla]

If you're still doing thirsty thot prompts or asks. I've been wondering how Din or Paz or perhaps both would be as horny baby daddies? Like how would they act when you are really pregnant?

Title: Stuffed Pairings: f!Reader x Din Djarin, f!Reader x Paz Vizsla, Paz Vizsla x f!Reader x Din Djarin Wordcount: 8k+ 🙃🙃🙃 Rating: NC-17 (duh)

⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️ Read the warnings! ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

Warnings: Borderline CNC (consensual non-consent – Paz, Din, and Reader are all pretending that Reader doesn’t want to get pregnant), rough enough to need a safe word, PWP (plot what plot), threesome, lots of unprotected sex, gratuitous self-indulgence of a cum kink, degradation (Reader called a slut for cock/cum), breeding fetish (Reader legit wants to be bred), use of a sex toy, Reader gets called ‘kitten’, cockwarming, oral (m & f receiving), the helmets come off, exhibitionism/public(ish) sex. I’m pretty sure I’ve missed a few, but these are the most important ones.

⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️ Read the warnings! ⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️⬆️

Author’s Note: I know what you were intending with your ask, but I’m totally going to be a thirsty bitch. 😉 This is focusing mainly on the baby making steps. This is also purely self-indulgent smut because I would love for these two to take turns with me for a few days and knock me tf up.

Thank you for the title, my darling Izzy!!!

For more dirtiness, please see:

📚 My Master List 📚

“You’re both too old for that,” you announce to Paz and Din, watching as their heads snap up.

“What?” Din asks as you silently laugh to yourself.

“You said you wanted to make a baby,” you respond. “At your age, you probably need those herbal teas. And don’t get me started on you, Paz. You’re ancient. Can you even keep it hard?”

“Don’t you run your mouth,” Paz warns quietly.

A low tendril of heat starts to curl low in your belly as you hear the warning in his voice. Shut your mouth, or I will prove you wrong. You lean back on your hands, tilting your head as the two men watch you from the other side of the cargo bay.

“I’m not,” you respond. “I’m just telling the truth. Us young tradespeople need competent warriors to raise the next generation with. You two are past your prime.”

“Kitten,” Din warns, a low growl in his voice.

You smile to yourself under your helmet. These two have just reached their prime as hunters. They know it, and they know you know it. Din and Paz exchange a silent glance between themselves. Lifting one hand, you plant it on your lower belly, watching as Paz’s head tilts downward, pointedly watching you slide your hand up and down, as if caressing a baby bump. If there is one thing that never fails to get a Mandalorian’s attention, it is a pregnant belly.

“If I am going to go through nine months of pregnancy, it wouldn’t be for two ancient fuckers like you two,” you say casually. “I’ll be fertile soon, so I need to be very picky about who I sleep with. I’m thinking maybe Dezha? Mathias?”

When Paz growls, you grin. Dezha is older than him, and Mathias is pretty close to Din’s age. You swing your legs back and forth casually, tilting your helmet slightly in what you hope they interpret as flirtation.

“Do you have any opinions, Din?”

Din comes forward a step, tension radiating through every part of his body.

“I might have an idea,” he says, as Paz starts to circle around you.

You slide your hand down toward your crotch as you spread your knees for Din. His next step falters ever so slightly.

“You know a warrior who can breed a woman properly?” you ask in mock surprise as he comes closer, almost hesitating.

“Do you actually want a kid?” Din asks flatly. He’s so hard you can see the outline of his cock through his trousers.

“I’ll be ovulating this week,” you say, sliding off the table and onto your feet.

Paz and Din exchange a look before turning their attention to you.

“I just need to find a warrior worthy of my time,” you say with a grin. “Certainly not either of you two ancient bastards.”

With those words, you dart for the open doorway, and laugh as you hear Paz curse. Heavy footsteps follow you as you bolt toward the cover of the trees. Unfortunately, you seem to have forgotten that both warriors have jetpacks, and you do not. Din lands a few meters in front of you, cutting you off from escape. In that moment of distraction, Paz catches up to you and grabs you. Firmly, he turns you around to face him, the fingers of one hand looped around your belt and the others under your chin. He tilts your face up to his.

“Kitten, I am not playing games with you,” he growls darkly, sending a low throb of pleasure shooting deep in your belly. “If you keep mouthing off, you’re going to end up pregnant.”

“There’s no way you could ever knock me up,” you say to Paz. “At your age, you’re shooting dust, aren’t you?”

“I’m not joking,” Paz says flatly, fingers tightening in warning.

“Neither am I,” you tell him. “I’m ready for a baby, and I want the two of you to take turns with me.”

“Did you hear that, Din?” Paz asks.

“Sure did,” Din says.

“Tell me what you’ve been fantasizing about, kitten,” Paz murmurs, loosening his grip around your chin.

Swallowing, you work up the courage to tell the two men exactly what you want from them.

“I’ve been masturbating for months now, thinking about the two of you,” you say shyly. “Taking turns using my body like you’re paying me for it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come around my fingers to the thoughts of you two fucking me while I struggle, while I beg you to not finish in me.”

You aren’t quite sure what Din or Paz are into, so degradation and playing around with unwanted impregnation might be out of what they are willing to give. Shit. You are on the verge of apologizing when Din speaks up.

“Kitten,” he breathes. “You have such a vivid imagination.”

“I genuinely want to be bred,” you whisper meekly, looking down as you suddenly lose your courage. “But I want to be taken. I don’t want you to ask.”

Paz tilts your face up toward his, fingers as light as feathers on your chin.

“I’d be happy to put a baby in you,” Paz says. “But let me make one thing clear – I’m not going to hurt you. I have never enjoyed hurting my partners and I never will. If that’s what you’re after, I can’t help you.”

“Nor will I,” Din adds, hands settling at your waist.

“No pain,” you say softly. “Just…rough enough to need a safe word to stop, instead of a no.”

Paz nods slowly.

“That I can agree to,” Paz says, nodding slowly. “Safe word?”

“Behot,” you blurt out the first thing on your mind.

“Behot is the safe word,” Din confirms.

Paz turns you around and shoves you against Din. You let out a squeak of protest as one massive hand encloses both your wrists, Paz’s massive forearm resting lightly on your breasts as he restrains you. He ducks his head down, pressing his helmet against your shoulder.

“You’re going to regret running your mouth, kitten,” he growls.

You struggle against Paz’s firm grip as Din advances, undoing his belt. The sound of leather zipping through his belt buckle makes your knees weak.

“No, not a snowball’s chance on Tatooine,” you snap, kicking at Din’s ankle.

“Normally, I’d just throw you into the sparring rings and smack you around until you shut up,” Din says. “But you…you’re young, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, what about it?” you ask. “What, you afraid I’ll kick your ass?”

“Young means fertile,” Paz says, his arm tightening around you, forcing a little squeak out of you.

“We’ve got a few days before we need to go back home,” Din suggests. “How about we have a little fun with our kitten?”

You wriggle in Paz’s arms. The thought of Paz and Din having their way with you sends a thrill shooting straight through your belly. You watch as Din spreads his cloak on the ground in front of you. Then Paz pushes you down. You land hard on your knees with a grunt. You try to get back up, but Paz keeps you down, wrestling you onto the fabric. He growls with pleasure. No matter how hard you fight, you simply cannot break out of Paz’s grip. His hands are snug around your wrists, but gentle, never painful, as he turns to look at Din.

“Let’s cuff her,” Paz says casually.

Equal measures of arousal and dread fill your belly as Din brings his restraints out. Swiftly, he restrains your wrists behind your back, not giving you the chance to break free. With your hands cuffed behind your back and Din’s hand between your shoulder blades, you can’t move much, so you settle for cursing both men out while Paz kneels behind you.

Then you hear a click and the distinctive hum of a vibroblade activating. You try to twist to see what Paz is doing, but Din keeps you from moving. You feel fabric give way as Paz very carefully slices through the crotch of your pants. Then he wriggles his fingers into the slice in the fabric and yanks it wide open, leaving you feeling cold and exposed.

“You’re already soaking wet,” Paz murmurs.

You hear a faint thump as his gloves land on the cloak next to your head. Two rough, calloused hands settle on your ass cheeks. Then thumbs spread your lower folds wide apart, baring your most private parts for him. Paz lets out a noise of delight.

“Look good?” Din asks.

“Oh, gods, yes,” Paz rumbles out. “So fucking good. Don’t let her move her head.”

You wonder what he’s going to do until you hear him speak again, that feeling of anticipation making your stomach feel weirdly tight.

“Let’s see how good you taste,” Paz says, his rich baritone no longer filtered by his modulator.

You squirm as you feel his breath fan across your vulva, his fingers digging into your plump ass so hard you know there will be bruises there. Paz swipes his tongue across your vulva, making stars dance behind your closed eyelids. A desperate warble escapes you as he draws back.

“You were struggling so much earlier,” Paz croons. “Where’s that fight, kitten?”

You bare your teeth in response and shift your weight, kicking back at him. Paz laughs as you miss him.

“There we go,” he rumbles, leaning in again.

He licks along your slit once more, tracing around your entrance, teasingly dipping the tip of his tongue into you. You buck your hips against his mouth, but Din is quick to pin you back down.

“Fuck you,” you hiss at Paz.

He only hums in response.

“I want a taste of her when you’re done,” Din says over your head.

Paz sucks your clit into his mouth and releases it with a pop that makes you squeal.

“She said she didn’t want this,” Paz comments idly. “But listen to her squealing.”

“I bet she’s already dripping down her thighs,” Din sighs.

Paz ducks his head down. His tongue traces a path from your inner thigh up to your entrance. He chuckles as you try to avoid his tongue. Without warning, Paz thrusts two fingers into your cunt, wrenching a cry of surprise from you.

“Ohh, fuck,” Paz groans out. “This pussy is tight. She’s gonna break my fingers.”

Roughly, he begins pumping his fingers in and out, filling the air with wet, sloppy noises. Then he plunges a third finger into you, making you shriek. Your walls protest the rough treatment, and you moan as each thrust of his calloused digits inside of you sends you spiraling closer and closer to the edge.

“Aww, I can feel your pussy getting all tight,” Paz croons. “Thought you didn’t want us to fuck you, kitten?”

“F-fuck you,” you gasp out, grimacing. “Should fu-fucking kill you – “

Paz pulls his fingers out and wipes your slick onto your thigh, chortling quietly. He gives you a few more long, slow licks, laughing each time you moan.

“Is it my turn?” Din asks.

“Of course,” Paz says. “Drink up, she’s dripping.”

As the two men shuffle around on the cloak, they keep you firmly trapped, not giving you an opportunity to escape. You huff quietly to yourself and resign yourself to the pleasurable torture.

“Look at how pretty,” Din says with a leer you can hear.

You feel him put his helmet down next to your knee. His voice is like caramel to your ears. Unfortunately, you don’t get a chance to enjoy it as he leans in and begins lapping at your slit, little groans of pleasure escaping him. Then he thrusts his tongue through your lips. Your breath catches in your throat, soft moans escaping you. Din gives you a few more moments on his tongue before withdrawing. Like Paz, he pushes his fingers into you, twisting and scissoring them inside you, as if mapping out your inner walls.

“Fuck,” Din says, and you can hear the grin on his lips. “You weren’t kidding.”

“Imagine how good she’s going to feel around your cock,” Paz suggests.

“Good idea,” Din says.

Din shuffles on the cloak behind you. You hear the whisper of fabric against flesh as he pushes his pants down. One hand wraps around your waist as he pushes forward, pressing the blunt head of his cock against your entrance. Then he starts pushing in slowly, firmly, filling you without giving you a chance to adjust. You sob as he finds the end of you, his cock brushing up against something vaguely uncomfortable.

“Oh, fuck,” he stutters out around a harsh pant. “Fuck!”

“Feel good?” Paz asks.

“So. Kriffing. Tight,” Din hisses, punctuating each word with a roll of his hips. “Kitten, how the fuck are you so tight?”

Tears spring to your eyes at how full you are, your walls struggling to take him. Din sets a slow, torturous pace, one that ensures you can feel every single inch of him as he fills you to the brim. Paz trails his hands up from your shoulders to your waist, stroking along your back through your suit. As that familiar heat begins to fill your belly, you realize you might have made a mistake in running your mouth. A very pleasurable mistake, but there is a strong chance you won’t be walking normally for a few days.

“I can feel you squeezing around me,” Din sings down to you. “Are you close, kitten?”

“I thought you didn’t want any of this,” Paz mocks you. “I thought you wanted us to let you go, kitten? I thought you hated the idea of us taking turns fucking you?”

You squirm again as Din’s pace grows rougher. Shit, he’s good. Too good. You’re already about to come and he has barely even gotten started.

“I’m gonna fill this pretty pussy right up,” Din grunts.

A whine escapes you before you can stop it. Paz reaches up and squeezes your hip. Immediately, you know what he’s feeling for. The contraceptive implant. He palpates for a few moments on both sides. A gush of wetness escapes you, pure pleasure filling you at the thought of your warriors breeding you.

“Where’s your contraceptive chip, kitten?” Paz asks. “Or did you not get one, hmm?”

Din increases his pace and force, hips slapping obscenely against your ass. His hand snakes around to your front. Strong fingers begin massaging your clit, little starbursts of pleasure exploding between your thighs. You hit your peak a few moments later, crying out as your walls quiver around his cock. Din’s grunts grow louder, his hands tightening around your hips. He smacks your ass lightly.

“Th-thought you didn’t want us to come in you?” he prompts.

Oh, right. You start struggling against him when you’ve regained your bearings.

“No, don’t you dare!” you hiss at him, “Pull out, pull out now!”

Din goes stiff, pace stuttering as his cock throbs inside of you, soft groans escaping him. Your eyes drift shut as he pants harshly.

“Company,” Paz warns.

Din puts his helmet on and pulls his pants up. You collapse flat onto your front and roll down onto your side, chest heaving as Din’s spend starts to leak out. Paz does not seem to care about the caravan passing by in the distance. Instead, he reaches over to remove your restraints. The instant you are free, you swing at him, but he anticipates it, catching your wrists and pinning them above your head.

With his other hand, he tugs your chest plate off and tosses it aside. Then he yanks your top open, sending buttons flying every which way. Then Paz pulls out his vibroblade.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” you hiss up at him. “This bra was expensive!”

He tilts his helmet down at you. Fortunately, he listens, and puts the damn blade away. Instead, he pushes your bra up over your tits, making you sigh in relief. Then Paz starts to push in. You howl, writhing in his iron-clad grip. Fuck, he’s huge, almost too big.

You pant harshly, digging your heels into his backside as he rocks forward experimentally. Din keeps watch over the caravan in the distance, polishing his weapon in a clear warning for them to stay the fuck away.

“Fight me, kitten,” Paz urges, “Show me those little claws of yours.”

Weakly, you buck your hips, but that only drives him in deeper, so deep it knocks the breath out of your lungs.

“Does my cock feel so good you can’t think?” Paz asks, faintly mockingly, as he rolls his hips once more. “Like that, my pretty little slut?”

Fuck, you think, as you clamp down around his length. Paz laughs at your reaction as he begins a deep pace, his cock hitting every single spot inside you that screams for friction.

“Fucking hell,” Paz breathes. “Din, how did you not come immediately? She’s squeezing so tight she’s about to push me back out.”

“I thought about your face,” Din lobs back easily, earning a bark of laughter from Paz. “He’s getting closer to us. Think he’s watching.”

“Watching?” you ask sharply, squirming again as alarm fills you. “Paz – “

“What, you don’t like the idea of being watched?” Paz asks, tilting his head down at you.

“Fuck off,” you hiss in response, mortification filling you at his words.

“You’re our woman,” Paz says, trailing a finger down to your breast. He pinches your nipple sharply, making you squeak. “And do you know what we do with fine Mandalorian women like you?”

Oh fuck, you think to yourself, as your cunt gushes in response.

“We breed our women,” Paz continues. “And this aruetii gets to see you do what you were meant to do. Take my cock.”

As you buck your hips and try to dislodge him, Paz keeps you pinned down, a growl of laughter escaping him. He keeps you pinned, his thrusts growing rougher and deeper, invading your body in the most pleasurable of ways.

“Yes,” he hisses, “Fight all you want, kitten, but I’m not going to stop. Not until I’ve filled you up, not until I have bred you.”

As you tilt your head, you can see the caravan is dangerously close by, having slowed down to shamelessly watch the three of you. Din is sitting in front of you, shielding most of your body from his prying eyes, but there is no doubting what is currently happening. Paz tweaks your nipple again.

“Look, he’s watching,” Paz croons.

You clamp down around Paz, looking away from the man in the distance. Paz laughs darkly, tilting your helmet back with one gentle hand, forcing you to look back at the trader. Mortification fills you as you see the unadulterated lust in his eyes.

“If you look closely, I think you’ll see just how appreciative he is,” Paz purrs, and your eyes drop down to confirm the massive bulge in the front of his trousers. “Don’t you like the idea of an aruetii watching you get bred?”

You’re shaking now, your body twisting and writhing as you simultaneously try to fight him off and fuck him back. Paz is a heavy, immovable weight between your thighs and on your body, keeping you spread wide open and helpless to do anything but lay there under him and pray for mercy you know will never come. The trader doesn’t even bother trying to hide the fact that he’s watching. You should be mortified, you think to yourself, but you aren’t. Instead, you’re so aroused you can’t even think straight, your head spinning from the dizzying combination of pleasure and shame of being reduced to this. Silently, you urge the trader to take a seat, to watch as your two warriors take turns ravaging your body.

“Come on, my sweet,” Paz urges.

With a shaking breath, you swallow, and redouble your efforts, bucking your hips in a vain attempt to dislodge him. Paz rides you through your struggles, soothing you with soft, mocking shushing noises. You begin to mouth off at him, trying to hide the fact that you are close to coming, your slick puddling under you on Din’s cloak.

“I swear if I get pregnant, I’m going to fucking kill you!” you howl up at him. “Pull out! PULL OUT!”

Paz laughs. You let out a shriek of rage as you writhe in his grasp. Inexplicably, he lets you go. You hammer your fists against his chest plate, but all you manage to do is make your hands hurt.

“Please – please – I’m begging you, pull out – pull out!” you sob up at him.

Paz groans, his pace growing deeper and rougher. You push against his chest plate with all your strength, but he doesn’t even twitch as his body folds over yours. Paz buries his helmet into the crook of your shoulder.

“Oh, kitten,” he moans into your shoulder. “I’m gonna make such a mess in you.”

The thought of Paz flooding your insides breaks you. You let out a high pitched noise as you orgasm, deep shuddering waves of pleasure coursing through you. Paz grunts and lets out a shuddering sigh, his cock throbbing inside you as he fills you with liquid heat.

“Yes, my sweet little slut,” Paz urges. “Milk every last drop out of me.”

Once your orgasm has subsided, you let your legs fall apart onto the cloak, body relaxing under Paz’s comforting warmth. Paz cradles you in his arms, murmuring soft nothings. Warmth fills you at his tender care. You can’t help but to giggle as he nuzzles his helmet against yours, much like a loth-cat would to show their affection.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “You did so, so good. Real proud of you, kitten.”

The trader stands up. He opens his mouth to speak, but Din cuts him off.

“Fuck off, or I shoot,” Din says flatly.

Wisely, the trader holds both hands up and immediately retreats. Once he is gone, Paz pulls out, and a little whimper escapes you. Paz gives you one last kov’nyn and tucks himself away. As you sit up, Paz gathers your armor, while Din offers his hand to you. You stand. Immediately, their very generous contributions begin to make their way back out, and you make a face under your helmet. Din smacks your ass sharply.

“Get back to the ship,” he says. “I’m hard and I want to – “

Grinning, you bolt away from the ship. Din lets out a curse. You hear him drop the things in his arms as he comes after you. You give escaping your best shot, but you are laughing so hard you can’t breathe. You’re half naked, tits and ass flapping in the wind, trying to escape your lovers. The absurdity is nearly too much for you to handle. Din catches up to you easily. Then he scoops his arms around you and flings you over his shoulder, earning a sharp squeal from you. He pats one hand on a sticky ass cheek.

“Bad girl,” he chides, though you can hear amusement in his voice.

You offer no resistance as Din carries you back to the ship. Once inside, Din sets you down while Paz closes the ramp behind himself. Din wraps an arm around you and pulls you close, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Can I take the rest of this off?” he asks, hands lingering on your hips.

“Yes,” you confirm.

Din carefully begins to remove your gear, stacking it all on the table next to you. He drops to his knees to unlace your boots and you step out of them, nudging them under the table. Your ruined pants follow. Then he helps you remove the rest of your clothes, leaving you standing there in your helmet and nothing else. He hesitates.

“May I take your helmet off?” he asks.

Shyly, you reach for his hands and lift them to your helmet. Together, you lift your helmet off. Your eyes sting a bit at the bright lighting from the interior of the ship. Din lets out an appreciative noise as he lifts his hand to stroke your cheek. Pressing a kiss to his thumb, you hook your fingers into his belt and pull him closer, until your tits press up against the cool beskar plate on his chest.

Din brings out his restraints and a grin crosses your face, your pussy clenching in excitement. He encloses your wrists in the rings before testing them. Not too tight, not too loose.

“Ready?” Din asks.

“Ready,” you nod, “Safe word is behot.”

With your confirmation, Din moves swiftly, almost too quickly for you to track. He marches you into the bedroom and tosses you down onto the bed, where you bounce and squeak. Paz follows, already shedding his armor and clothes into the chair. Once Din is naked – save for his helmet – he crawls onto the bed with you, the mattress creaking under his weight. You kick out at him but miss, growling in frustration.

“She’s a feisty little thing, isn’t she?” Din asks Paz. The other man comes to join you, settling on your other side.

As Paz runs his finger along your breast, you bite at him. He laughs and then he thumps his finger against the end of your nose.

“This might be a problem, Paz,” Din says conversationally.

“What is it?” Paz asks.

“It looks like she’s pushed all our cum out of her,” Din says, swiping his fingers through the tacky mess on your thighs.

“We spent all day making those loads for your pussy,” Paz scolds you, tweaking your nipple.

“I never wanted them in the first place,” you growl up at them.

“Sweet kitten,” Din soothes, parting your knees and settling between them. “If you didn’t want to be bred, you shouldn’t have run your mouth.”

“Shouldn’t have called us old and incompetent,” Paz says.

“Called us unworthy of fucking this sweet pussy,” Din adds.

You can’t help the needy moan that escapes you while he strokes his cock to full stiffness. Lifting your hips, you writhe, pulling against Paz’s grip as he holds your wrists above your head.

“You say you don’t want to be pregnant,” Din chuckles lowly. Then he starts pushing in, sliding in with a satisfying thrust. Then he growls, his head falling back as he pauses, letting you feel the throb of his cock in you. “Look at the way you’re whining and writhing on my cock. You want this.”

“We’ll have to keep her chained to this bed until she’s pregnant,” Paz says.

You can’t help but to tighten around Din. He laughs, giving you a short thrust.

“I think she likes the idea of being chained to this bed and used,” Din looks over at Paz.

“Is she like a vice?” Paz asks, feigning surprise.

With one hand, he holds your arms down. With the other, he begins fondling your tits, tweaking your nipple and twisting. Then he smacks lightly, making you squeak and writhe. Din begins to thrust shallowly, his helmet tilting down toward your tits.

“I think she’s trying to keep me from pulling out,” Din says.

“I knew it,” Paz purrs, tracing a gentle finger along your jaw. “You’re a slut for a big, thick cock in you, aren’t you?”

“No!” you blurt out, twisting under Din. “Get it out! NO!”

Paz releases you to get up. Din catches your wrists and presses your palms to his chest as Paz goes to the wall.

“Dig your nails into me,” Din orders firmly.

“Like this?” you pant up at him, as Paz turns the lights off. “Or – or is it t-too much?”

“Make it hurt,” Din barks at you.

You obey, tightening your fingers until your nails dig in. He lets out a growl of pleasure, his hips snapping into yours sharply. Each thrust fills you to the brim and a little more, earning a squeak as he finds the line between pleasure and pain. The light turns off and you hear a thud as Din puts his helmet on the bedside table. Then another as Paz puts his down. The mattress shifts and Paz takes over holding you down.

“Baby, can I please spit in your mouth?” Din whispers, nuzzling along your jaw. You smile and press a kiss against his temple.

“Of course,” you respond.

He groans. Din’s hand finds your jaw and he presses against your cheeks to pry your jaws apart. Then he hooks his thumb over your lower teeth and pulls, holding your mouth open. You let out an inelegant noise as he traces your teeth with his tongue. Then he slides it in further, mapping the roof of your mouth and then your teeth. Din pulls back just a bit and he spits. Of course, he misses your mouth in the dark, so most of it ends up on your cheeks. Din releases you and you swallow, sighing as he starts hitting that spot that makes you see stars.

“Did you like that?” he asks gently, pressing his lips to your temple.

“Yes,” you whisper, “Can you…uhm…”

“What is it, baby?” Paz asks, stroking your arms.

“Be rougher, please?” you ask shyly.

“Anything you want,” Din says. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “I’m ready.”

Din starts rolling his hips harder against yours and Paz’s grip grows tighter, verging on painful. Your eyes roll back up in your head as Din bites the meat of your shoulder and sucks hard. Din palms one breast for a moment, rolling and squeezing before pinching your nipple.

“These titties bounce so beautifully,” Din says. “You like this, kitten? Feeling my cock this far in you?”

“No,” you gasp, arching your back to welcome him in deeper. “No, don’t – don’t want to – “

Paz tweaks both your nipples sharply. You cry out at the little starbursts of pain radiating from your breasts. Then he smacks firmly, making your entire body twitch.

“If you didn’t want us breeding you, you would have kept that smart mouth of yours shut,” Paz says, squeezing again. “So glad you decided to run your mouth, kitten. Never would have known how fucking good you feel.”

“You told us you were ovulating,” Din pants. “Did you think we would turn the invitation down?”

Warmth fills your belly as your pussy begins to throb around his cock. Din groans.

“If you didn’t want to be bred, you wouldn’t be moaning for cock like the little whore you are,” Paz interjects, his hand sliding toward your belly.

You choke out a sob, bucking your hips against Din’s half-heartedly, breaths coming in sharp, gasping pants.

“Come on my cock, my sweet little slut,” Din orders, and you fall apart.

“No, no, no,” you sob out while you come, “Ple-please pull out, don’t do this, Din – “

He groans and lunges forward, heaving gasps escaping him as he finishes, filling you with that liquid warmth you crave. Tightening your legs around his waist, you keep him trapped snugly in you. He thrusts shallowly for a few moments.

“There you go, kitten,” he rasps into your shoulder. “Another load for your fertile pussy.”

“My turn,” Paz says cheerfully.

Din releases you, pressing another kiss to your forehead, and pulls out with a wet noise. You collapse onto the bed, legs spread wantonly, as you try to catch your breath. Paz settles between your knees. He thrusts in sharply, wrenching a cry of surprise from you as he fills you. He begins to move, each thrust rocking your body on the covers.

“Fuck,” Paz grunts.

Arching your back, you whine, tightening your legs around Paz’s waist.

“Please,” you whine, “Harder, Paz.”

A desperate noise escapes you as he goes still.

“What was that, kitten?” he asks.

“Harder, please,” you mewl impatiently.

“Did we change your mind?” Din croons, tracing your jaw with his fingers. “Do you want to be filled up with cum, little slut?”

Another impatient noise escapes you as you lift your hips, urging Paz to continue what he was doing before. He doesn’t move, much to your chagrin. Your lower lip slides out in a pout.

“Tell me exactly what you want from me, kitten,” Paz says.

“I want you to fuck me please. Finish in me, I want every last drop,” you moan into his ear, sighing when he starts moving again. “Wanna be bred.”

“Good girl,” Paz rumbles in response.

“Wanna do what I was made to do,” you sigh, digging your nails into his back. “Get knocked up.”

He keeps a slow and unhurried pace, your mewls and pleas falling on deaf ears. He works you slowly to the edge, drawing out each thrust and kiss until you feel like your entire body quivering in desperation. He changes his pace then, grinding his pubic bone into your clit, giving you the friction and pressure that you so desperately need. Biting on your lower lip, you lift your hips, digging your nails into his back as you start to come. Paz bites you again and orgasm hits you like a freighter. You sob his name out, toes curling, as the pleasure wracks your body.

Paz rests inside you as you come down from your high, feeling fuzzy and warm, as if you’re about to fall asleep. He pulls out. A generous amount of his spend follows. He presses his lips to your forehead as you start to drowse off.

“Rest,” he murmurs. “You will need your strength, kitten.”

As you drift off, Paz tucks a blanket around you. Vaguely, you hear Din and Paz arguing over who sleeps where, but you tune them out, sinking into the warm abyss of sleep.

-

-

-

You aren’t quite sure how many times the two of them fuck you throughout the next few days. Originally, you had tagged along to hunt with them, but the two men clearly had other plans in mind. That first night, they keep you in bed, letting you out only for a trip to the bathroom and for food. The cuffs are loose enough for you to slip out in case of emergency, but you don’t take advantage of that fact. Honestly, the thought of being entirely at their mercy gets you soaked in seconds. Din also refuses to let you wear clothes. Any attempt to cover up is met with a growl and a very swift undressing.

Cover your tits with your hands? Din reaches for the handcuffs. He even threatens to hide the blankets and pillows until you agree to remain completely naked for his viewing pleasure. “If you’re cold,” Din says, “You come to me, and I’ll keep you warm.” Paz only shakes his head.

During the days, they alternate who hunts and who stays behind with you. When it’s Din’s turn to stay behind, he likes keeping you cuffed. Sometimes, when you’re very naughty, he’ll cuff you to the pilot’s seat and keep you between his knees. Then, he’ll slide his flaccid cock in your mouth and keep it there until you can get it hard again. Sometimes, when you get a little too fresh with him, he will finish on your face. He likes mocking you when you sulk about him wasting a load like that. Then, while you’re protesting, Din will slide his cock right back into your mouth to shut you up. When you’ve behaved to his liking, Din will finish in your pussy and tell you what a good girl you’ve been.

Paz, on the other hand, can’t stay out of your pussy. When it’s his turn to stay with you, he just plops you into his lap and buries his cock inside you. Paz is a very patient man. Sometimes, he makes you sit perfectly still on his cock. He won’t touch you until you break apart and beg him for his touch. Then, and only then, will he let you finish. Other times, he flat out uses you, not caring if you get off in the process. Then he makes you sit there in complete silence, feeling as his cock goes all soft inside you. If you make the mistake of letting his cock slip out, Paz will sigh in disappointment and make you lick up the mess that escapes your poor abused pussy.

On the fourth day of your scheduled breeding, Din comes back with something he promises you will “love”. He heads into the galley for a few minutes. You can hear the sounds of running water and him washing something. After his shower, he joins the two of you in the bed. Paz pulls out and Din replaces him. You whine impatiently – Paz hasn’t let you finish all day long. He’s kept you on the edge the entire time. Not thirty seconds later, Din also finishes, and you sulk as he pulls out.

Then something soft and squishy presses right up against your abused entrance. Your pussy resists for a few moments – whatever it is, it’s big­ – but it eventually pops in. You squirm as it slides in, pressing up against your g-spot.

“What the hell?” you ask Din.

“It’s an egg,” Din says proudly. “This way, we’ll be able to keep our cum inside you while you’re doing your chores, kitten.”

“I like that idea,” Paz says. “Speaking of chores, I’m hungry.”

“Me too,” Din says.

“Go get dinner on the table, woman,” Paz says, smacking your ass cheek as you roll off the bed.

The instant they found out you like being told what to do, they started taking shameless advantage of it. When they’re not fucking you, Paz and Din often have you cleaning armor or doing the cleaning around the ship. Paz especially loves watching you in the galley as you cook the meals. This is the only exception to Din’s demand that you stay naked. He lets you wear an apron to do the cooking so you don’t accidentally burn yourself. As soon as you’re finished in the galley, Din takes the apron from you and locks it up.

It took a little bit before you got used to the egg inside you, but now, it feels quite nice pressing up against your g-spot. Not only that, it keeps their spend from leaking out and making a horrible mess on your thighs. Din and Paz like seeing evidence of you being bred, but the thought of having it plugged up inside you is far more appealing to them. You can’t help but to find their eagerness to knock you up weirdly endearing.

“We should keep her like this forever,” Din says one evening while he fucks into your limp body, forcing a mortified moan out of you. “Naked and fucked into submission.”

“I like it much better when she’s cooking and cleaning,” Paz leers, stroking his cock as he waits for Din to finish, “Imagine how good she’ll look with a big belly on her. Cooking, cleaning, and looking after the little ones.”

Din swears as he finishes, coating your walls with another thick layer of spend. He pulls out and you squirm a bit. Your walls are hypersensitive now, almost tender from the sheer number of times the two warriors have fucked into your body. Paz laughs as he pushes in, plugging Din’s cum inside you.

“How many brats are we going to breed out of her?” Din asks, turning your head to the side.

He traces your lips with the head of his cock, smearing his spend and your slick onto your face. Obediently, you open your mouth and lick at the head of his cock. Din sighs as he slides in with short, gentle thrusts. Once they found out that you could swallow their cocks up to the hilt, neither one had been shy about using your mouth to get hard.

“Six,” Paz says, “Six sounds good.”

“Do you like the sound of that, kitten?” Din asks, tilting his helmet down at you. “Do you think you can breed us six children?”

You pull your mouth off Din’s cock and give him a look of pure disbelief.

“Competent warriors could provide for more than six,” you say hoarsely. “Only a useless, ancient fucker like you would stop at six.”

Paz starts to laugh hysterically at the incredulity in Din’s posture. Din sighs and picks up the big, squishy silicone egg he bought. Then he pops it into your pussy and smacks your ass.

“My armor needs to be cleaned,” he says. “Get to work, woman.”

“Yes, sir,” you sigh, as you bring your knees together and slide off the table.

-

-

-

They drop you off back home with the rest of the supplies. From there, Din and Paz go on to pursue the more dangerous bounties that they don’t quite trust you with. It doesn’t really offend you – you really aren’t that great of a hunter. They can handle themselves alone. They make a formidable team when partnered up together. When you go in for your medical examination, Doctor Shen just sort of stares at the results of the scan.

“Is this why you came to ask for the pregnancy cocktail?”

“I told them I was ready to have a baby,” you say shyly. “I’m so happy they were willing to help.”

Her hand on her hip is the equivalent of a raised brow.

“You’re covered in bruises and bite marks,” she says. “Did you get any hunting done at all?”

“I hunted for the first few days,” you say defensively. “Then I did a personal scan and found I was going to be ovulating soon.”

She sighs and shakes her head.

“It’ll be a little bit before we can determine if you succeeded,” she says. “So, take it easy for now.”

-

-

-

Twelve weeks later, Doctor Shen confirms that yes, Paz and Din were quite successful in knocking you up. When they get back, you deliver the good news. You expect them to be overjoyed – which they are – but you do not expect them to start arguing on the spot over who gets to raise the child. It gets to the point where they look like they’re ready to start brawling, so you swiftly cut in.

“You idiots had no problem taking turns fucking me,” you say, ignoring all the witnesses in the room. “You won’t have a problem taking turns raising this baby with me.”

Paz and Din grumble about having to ‘put up with’ the other, but eventually concede. You won’t admit it, but it feels nice being fought over by the two more competent warriors in the Tribe. You know you’re the recipient of many jealous looks from the others, but you have no desire to share them with anyone else. As your belly grows larger, Paz finally lets you move into his room, which is much larger than the bunk you share with your friend. (Din also moves in, so he can ‘make sure’ that Paz is looking after you.)

Then they start arguing about whose name the baby is going to get, which clan it is going to be raised in, and which warrior you were going to marry. (Armorer ends up cutting into the argument and telling you to just marry them both because she’s sick of hearing their voices and could you please tell them to shut up?)

Paz wins getting the two of you to join up as part of his clan. Regardless of clan politics, the Vizsla emblem does get certain benefits. You win the last name debacle by saying the baby gets your last name. Finally, Din gets to name the baby. (Though you remind him that any stupd names like Ori’buyce will immediately be vetoed.)

When you’re starting to get round, Din and Paz spend a lot of their time simply touching you, marveling at the changes in your body. You have to sleep between them most nights because they’re always underfoot, wanting to feel the baby move. Now, being pregnant isn’t a deterrent for either one.

In fact, the bigger your belly gets, the more they want to pleasure you. It doesn’t ever get rough – Paz and Din don’t want to risk hurting you or the baby – but it takes very little to convince them to please you. This late in your pregnancy, it’s hard to manage sex comfortably. So, they have to be creative.

Paz will make a nest of pillows on the armchair outside and layers a few towels onto the cushion. Then he carefully nestles you onto it, lifting your legs onto the arm rests until you’re spread wide open for them. (This is approximately the same time that Din loses control over his mouth.)

Din loves to tell you how good you look with a big, round belly. He comments on how your breasts have changed, how they feel heavy and ripe and full in his palms. Paz likes to tell you that you look like some sort of fertile goddess, ready to bring life into the world. He likes kissing every stretch mark and worshiping your pussy. When you’re appropriately dazed and incapable of forming a coherent sentence, they’ll let you rest. (The bigger the wet spot you leave behind on the pile of towels, the prouder they are of themselves.)

When you’re only a week from giving birth, the two of them start nesting hard. You have to wade through boxes of baby supplies to get into the little room you’ve turned into the nursery. The two idiots feed off of the other’s anxiety to the point where you have to pry baby supplies out of their hands and order them to rest. (You only have to threaten to get Doctor Shen three times before they calm down and stop panicking.)

The delivery goes smoothly. Din and Paz stay by your side the entire time, holding your hand and sponging the sweat off your forehead. They both cry more than the baby does as you hold him close to your chest. You know who fathered him, but neither Din nor Paz care. From there, they take you straight home. The two of them make a marvelous team, especially when it comes to Wife and Baby Care Duties.

Baby needs to be fed? Din’s already up to grab the baby, while Paz is finding some burp cloths for you. Diaper needs to be changed at night? You don’t know about it until you check the baby diaper log. (You are definitely getting the better end of the deal here, but you won’t complain about not having to change the diapers at night.)

By the time you’re on baby five (or six, was it? You’re not sure how many kids you have at this point), Paz and Din have already started staying at home longer and longer to bask in their well-earned ‘retirement’. They haven’t stopped hunting of course. Paz or Din just takes a young hunter or two with him to give them one-on-one tutelage.

“It’s a real privilege to be in this position,” Paz explains, as he shaves the remaining stubble off his face. “Back on Nevarro, we didn’t have this privilege. We had to go out on our own. We never had backup.”

“Kids are going to be soft,” Din mutters, though you can see the proud smile on his face. “We’ll have to toughen them up.”

“They’re lucky to have the two of you,” you respond quietly, to avoid waking up the newest member of the family. “Passing on your knowledge and skill…we’ll be all the stronger for it.”

“Exactly,” Din says, plastering a kiss onto your forehead.

“Can’t wait to take the ad’ika out,” Paz says dreamily. “Hopefully, we’ll be able to arrange childcare so you can come along.”

“I’m not missing any of their first hunts,” you say flatly. “The Tribe will just need to suck it up and babysit.”

The two of them only laugh at your indignant response. As you look out into the living room, you smile as you see your offspring spread out on the couch, watching a ‘borrowed’ movie. They will make fine warriors, you think to yourself, especially with who their fathers are.

-

-

-

Permanent Tags:

@hdlynn @princessbatears @oloreaa @phoenixhalliwell  @reader-without-a-story @nelba @aeryntheofficial @trippedmetaldetector @jedi-mando  @razzlefrazzum @paintballkid711 @hayley-the-comet @dornish-queen

Paz/Din Tags:

@esoltis280 @backontheolebullshit

The “If I have to Suffer, So Do You” Tags:

@magsgotswags @thecautiousengineer

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Awaken

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Hwang Hyunjin (some mentions of Y/N x Seo Changbin)

Word Count: 7.5K

Warnings: Explicit smut and language, use of vibrators, Hyunjin is kinda obsessed in this one

Genre: College AU; Professor AU

Summary: When Y/N transferred into a prestigious all-girls university, she never expected to be on the receiving end of a very handsome professor’s near-constant attention.

It had been a difficult decision - transferring from my previous school into one of the most Elite universities in the world. I understand that it might seem contradictory, but there were several uncertainties that impeded my ability to make a decision. The first being an existential dread surrounding the idea of leaving behind my best friends, including my off-and-on again boyfriend, Changbin. The second reason involved my new university’s strict mandate that it would only accept female applicants.

Yes, the school only admitted women, and as someone who maintained a diligent sex life with previous boyfriends, I was not excited by the prospect of being forced into celibacy.

But the pressure from my parents and close academic advisors eventually forced my hand, and I found myself dragging most of my belongings out of my dorm room with a few friends helping me along. “What the hell is in this suitcase, Y/N?” Jisung asked, grunting with the effort of dragging my bag along the sidewalk.

“Probably just clothes,” I said, shrugging because I was trying to remain perfectly nonchalant about my transfer, even though I was having a total meltdown on the inside.

“I think that’s all of it,” Changbin said, and he was giving me that same somber look that I was starting to hate - the one that told me he wasn’t very happy about my transfer. “You know,” he continued, bracing himself against the side of my car. “If you ever need me, I’m only a phone call away.”

“Quit trying to get your dick wet, Changbin, and grab something!” Chan snapped. “Or, are those arms just for show?”

Changbin rolled his eyes, but he leaned down to grab my laundry basket before bringing it to the trunk. “Are you gonna miss us, Y/N?” Jisung asked. 

“Not as much as you’ll miss me,” I said. “Who else will edit your essays, Han?”

Jisung frowned as if he was actually thinking deeply about my question. “Maybe I could just email them-”

“Jisung,” Chan interrupted, knocking against his shoulder with an affectionate smile. “There’s still one more box inside.”

“I’m on it!” Jisung shouted, and I grinned at the sight of the younger boy pumping his arms as he jogged back up the staircase.

“He doesn’t really get the severity of the situation,” Chan said, leaning next to me to against my car.

“It’s okay,” I said, looking down at my shoes. “I’ll miss all of you.”

“Y/N,” Chan said, “I thought we weren’t gonna cry until after you left.”

I sniffled around the rising urge to do exactly that before tossing my arms around his neck for a long embrace. “You’ll come see me, right?”

“Of course,” Chan agreed, pulling back to meet my gaze. “Ya! Don’t cry over this, Y/N. It’s supposed to be your big opportunity.”

“Yeah,” I murmured, but it didn’t really feel like it anymore, and when my eyes connected with Changbin’s, I couldn’t help but feel a terrible weight pressing down on my chest.

Maybe this was the worst idea ever, but I was already enrolled for the upcoming academic semester. I would do my best, of course, but I desperately hoped that my parents might reconsider another transfer. Because these were my friends  (and my sometimes boyfriend), and I belonged with them.

“Don’t think too much about it,” Chan instructed me firmly. “Call us if you ever want to hangout.”

“I will,” I promised him, and he brushed a friendly kiss across my forehead. It was the ultimate sign that I had truly signed my life away on the enrollment papers for the school in the next town. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad once I made new friends, but at this moment, everything hurt and I was doing my best to hold myself together as I drove away with my old life waving goodbye from the rear-view mirror.

Upon the start of the Spring semester, I was officially moved into my new dorm room which I was sharing with an very enthusiastic young woman named Claire. Her optimism was unmatched, and she had spent most of the day dragging me around campus while pointing out anything that seemed remotely interesting. “You’ll love it here, Y/N!” she promised, and I feigned a smile mostly for her benefit.

“It seems nice,” I told her later on after we returned to our shared dorm room.

“Oh, yeah, the teachers are great!” she said. “What’s your schedule like?”

I shrugged with vacant dismissal, reaching into my bag to hand her the folded piece of paper I had received earlier that week. “You got in Mr. Hwang’s class!” Claire abruptly squealed. “You lucky bitch!”

“What’s the big deal?” I grumbled, snatching my schedule back out of her hands.

“The big deal!” Claire shrieked like I had just committed an unforgivable crime. “He’s only the hottest teacher on campus!”

I rolled my eyes because I should’ve anticipated something superficial. But I was beginning to understand that most of these poor girls were thirsty for anything remotely attractive, and I had even witnessed one girl lusting over a much-older professor just because he still had all of his hair. It was everything I feared about an all-girls institution, and I was beginning to experience the same mania as the rest of them.

But my thoughts usually went to Changbin, and there was no way I would ever fantasize about one of my teachers. “How old is he?” I asked.

“He’s only 27!” Claire giggled. “I’m not kidding, Y/N, it looks like he was literally sculpted by the gods!”

“That’s original,” I muttered. “Well, I hope he’s good at poetry.”

“Oh, he’s the best,” Claire assured me, but I didn’t think I could take her word for it because she was certainly biased when it concerned his looks. “He’s been published all around the world!”

“He must be decent,” I said because the school’s academic reputation wouldn’t allow anything less than acceptable.

“My friend had a class with him last semester,” Claire continued, and I regretted not changing the topic earlier. “Apparently, she could hardly concentrate on the lesson because she couldn’t stop staring at his ass.”

“Your friend sounds dedicated.”

“There’s also a rumor going around campus that he only got his position because he seduced our admissions advisor!”

I snorted at the idea. “I doubt I’ll be that interested in him.”

“Whatever you say, Y/N,” Claire sing-songed. “You’ll change your mind when you see him.”

“I highly doubt it,” I muttered, and I glanced over at the side table where my phone was waiting. “I’ll be back,” I said, and I left the dorm room and found myself in an isolated study room which I ensured was locked before dialing Changbin’s number.

Then, I settled down against the couch and closed my eyes, shoving my hand underneath the waistband of my sleeping shorts to gently graze my fingers against my clitoris. 

Graciously, Changbin picked up after the fourth ring: “Y/N?” he said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Changbin chuckled, and the static from the phone made it sound far more guttural. I bit my lower lip as I dipped one finger inside my tight heat. “How’s your new roommate?” he asked. “Chan told me that she was unbearable.”

“She’s chatty,” I said, taking a deep breath before asking him: “Changbin, I miss you.”

He was silent from the other end, and I could only pray that Changbin had read the situation correctly, especially when I offered a quiet moan into the receiver. “Are you touching yourself, Y/N?” he asked, and I nodded even though he couldn’t see me.

“I wish you were here,” I told him, and I smiled at the familiar sound of Changbin’s zipper as he tugged his pants down those thick thighs that I loved. 

“I’m here, babe,” he said, and there was a slight desperation to his tone. “What are you thinking about?”

“You,” I said, hissing around a stuttered exhale when I grazed a sensitive spot. “I’m thinking about your cock, Changbin.”

He moaned from the other end, and the slick sound of Changbin lubing up his erection was particularly raunchy. “I want you here with me, Y/N,” Changbin said, and I could easily imagine him jerking off his cock from behind my eyelids. “I’d have you on your hands and knees, fingering that little pussy of yours.”

I gasped at his words, arching my back against the couch as I shoved my fingers even further inside. Changbin had an uncanny gift for dirty talk that I attributed in large part to his irresistible baritone voice. “Tell me more,” I begged him.

“Are you wet?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Changbin growled. “I could just slide right in.”

“Oh, fuck,” I cursed, and I imagined everything as he continued to describe it to me - moving my fingers even faster at the phantom sensation of his cock filling me up so well like he always did whenever we had sex together. “I want to come so bad for you.”

“Then do it,” Changbin said, grunting from his end as he undoubtedly brought himself to completion.

And I eventually came with a loud moan - shameless despite the thin walls of the surrounding dorms. But I was on cloud nine, savoring the necessary heat of my well-deserved orgasm. “Call me tomorrow,” Changbin said after a while, and I had almost forgotten that we were still talking.

“Yeah,” I panted around a sigh. “I will.”

The bell-tower struck noon when I entered Hwang Hyunjin’s poetry class for the very first time. I had already anticipated a large class, but I was still surprised by the sheer number of students who were crowding the front rows of the classroom. I rolled my eyes because I was forced to sit at the back, and it certainly did no favors for my poor vision.

Regardless, I was also frustrated because there was a small part of myself which remained curious about this mysterious teacher. I could tell that all the other students were practically gushing with excitement, but I schooled my expression and slumped down in my seat as I pulled out a fresh notebook. What the hell were they expecting? A striptease in the middle of our lecture?

However, the most frustrating part of all was the grand entrance of the elusive teacher who had enraptured most of the population. And I couldn’t be any less impressed with him as I rolled my eyes over his tall, lean form. Yeah, he was pretty to look at, but he certainly wasn’t my type. I sighed as my mind instantly reminded me of an image of Changbin; specifically, a sweaty Changbin who had just finished up in the gym - wearing nothing around his waist except for a towel.

“Good morning, everyone,” Mr Hwang finally spoke, and there was a deeper aspect to his voice that I wasn’t expecting. “My name is Mr. Hwang, and this is our poetry 278 lecture.”

There was a collective sigh over his words, and I held back my laughter at the pathetic way everyone was swooning over him. “Let’s start with introductions,” Mr. Hwang suggested, and I groaned because I loathed ice-breakers. “When I call your name, you can give me your year and intended major.”

God, was this Elementary school?

Nevertheless, I waited for my turn, listening as the other students went above and beyond the call of duty to provide Mr. Hwang with as much unnecessary additional information as they could. “I study political science,” one girl said. “I was the leader of my high school’s debate club, and I won an award at the state convention.”

“Impressive,” Mr. Hwang said, and I briefly entertained the idea of the girl fainting on the spot. “Y/N?”

I glanced up to meet Mr. Hwang’s gaze. “Third year,” I replied. “I just transferred, and I’m studying English.”

“Oh, really?” Mr. Hwang inquired. “Do you have any interest in writing an honor’s thesis?”

I blinked twice at the question because he hadn’t bothered to push anyone else for something more. “I’d like to in the future,” I told him, and I squirmed around uncomfortably in my chair when his gaze lingered for several beats too long.

Thankfully, he quietly moved on, and I was able to relax in my seat once again. The lecture proceeded from there, and I sighed when I realized that we would be talking about Emily Dickinson who I had already studied numerous times in my other classes. But I guess that left me the rare opportunity to doodle nonsensical images on my notebook while thinking about my friends, wondering what Jisung, Chan, and Changbin might be doing at that moment.

In another universe, we could be sharing this class together, and I felt a pang of homesickness for my previous school as I listened to Mr. Hwang’s voice at the back of my head. But after another hour, our class concluded and I breathed a sigh of relief as I packed up my belongings. I wasn’t able to finish my picture of Munchlax, but maybe I could work out the details later on. In the meantime, I hoisted my bag over my shoulder as I tried to fight my way around the crowd of students who were all waiting around Mr. Hwang’s desk.

And I was almost at the exit when his voice suddenly stopped me. “Y/N,” Hyunjin said, and I paused mid-step because I wasn’t expecting to hear him call my name. “Can you stay behind for a moment?”

“Sure,” I said, even as I bristled at the thought of having to wait for those other girls to leave first.

They all insisted that they had so many questions to ask Mr. Hwang, and I was left to stew in the corner while crossing my arms over my chest. I had another class in half an hour, and I couldn’t afford to stand around all day while I waited at the behest of a teacher who had somehow won the affections of every student in this stupid school simply by being the prettiest in the room.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mr. Hwang said with a bright smile to the last girl who scampered out of the room with a breathless giggle.

Finally, it was just me and Mr. Hwang, and I hesitantly walked over to his desk. “You needed to see me?”

“Yes,” Mr. Hwang said as he looked up at me from his grade-book. “Is there something wrong with the way I teach?” Mr. Hwang asked, and I was surprised to see him pouting at me with his lower lip sticking out.

“Uh, I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Hwang,” I said, adjusting the strap of my bag.

“Well, it didn’t seem like you were too invested in my lecture,” Hyunjin explained.

Oh, great, he caught me daydreaming about Changbin. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” I said, searching for an excuse. “I’ve been having a hard time adjusting.”

“Ah, that’s right!” Mr. Hwang nodded. “You transferred here for the new semester.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, and I chanced a step back towards the doorway. “I’ll do better in the future.”

“Well, hold on for just a minute, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang said. “I’m here to help my students when they’re struggling.”

“It’s not really a struggle,” I said, but I held my tongue when he pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled something at the top.

“Here,” he said, holding out the paper for me to take. “It’s my personal phone number,” Mr. Hwang added with a wink. 

Personal number? “Oh, thank you, sir,” I offered in return because I wasn’t sure what the appropriate response might be in that situation.

“Call me anytime,” Mr. Hwang insisted, and I couldn’t help but notice the mischievous gleam in his gaze like we were playing some kind of game and I was the one who was losing. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

One Week Later

Despite my new school’s formidable reputation, I was doing exceedingly well in all of my classes. Most of my instructors were greatly impressed, and a few English teachers had already brought up the prospect of mentoring me for the honor’s thesis. Yet, there was one class that I couldn’t quite get a handle on, and I was shocked to see another giant C- written across the top of my latest essay. 

I swallowed hard when Mr. Hwang returned to the front of the room to conclude his lecture. What the hell was I doing wrong? I had even sent this paper to a former TA at my previous school who offered to look at it before I submitted the damn thing.

But instead of feeling disappointed about my failure, I sensed a rising anger directed at the man standing in front of the room. Everyone else around me celebrated their A’s while I was left with a nasty letter grade that would hardly reflect well on my GPA. What could the rest of my classmates be doing differently?

“That’s it for today!” Mr. Hwang announced. “We’ll pick up on this again next time!”

I frowned as I stuffed the essay at the bottom of my bag. It still wasn’t too late to switch out of this stupid class, and then I could finally re-orient my focus. “Y/N!” Mr. Hwang called out when I passed by his desk. “Can I have a moment of your time, dear?”

Dear?! “Sure,” I grumbled, once again waiting for the masses of Mr. Hwang’s admirers to leave the room before I confronted my teacher.

“Well,” Mr. Hwang began with an exaggerated sigh. “What will we do about these poor grades of yours?”

I bristled at the comment because it sounded strangely hostile - perhaps even threatening. “Don’t worry, sir,” I said. “I’m transferring out your class. You don’t have to concern yourself with me.”

I turned my back on Mr. Hwang as I started for the exit. “Don’t be silly, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang said. “I’ve spoken to your other teachers, and they tell me that this a requirement for your major. And I’m the only person who teaches the subject.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I hissed under my breath, but I did my best to retain a neutral expression as I returned to his desk. “What’s the problem, sir?” I asked. “I had the last essay peer-checked by a former instructor.”

“Our grading standards are much higher, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang informed me haughtily. “I think the real issue is your attitude.”

“My attitude?” I repeated - completely dumbfounded by the accusation.

“You don’t really show any engagement with the material,” Mr. Hwang elaborated. “You always come to class, but I can tell that your attention is elsewhere. And you don’t even bother to come to my office hours to talk about the topics we cover.”

“I didn’t realize, sir,” I said, and I was shocked that he considered me disinterested in my studies.

“It’s okay to ask for help, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang explained. “You’re the only student who never stays behind to talk to me.”

Because I have better things to compliment your face! “I have another lecture after this one,” I offered as a response.

“Then it seems to me like I should make an effort to meet you outside of designated hours,” Mr. Hwang said. “I have an apartment off-campus. Maybe you can come over this weekend?”

For a moment, I was completely stunned by his proposal. “I don’t think that’s appropriate, Mr. Hwang,” I said, taking a step back away from him.

“Why not?” Mr. Hwang asked. “It’ll just be me and you.”

“Uh, I don’t know...”

“Oh, Y/N, I have to insist,” Mr. Hwang said, and I watched him open his grade-book. “You won’t even muster a C in this class if you keep going at this rate.”

It seemed preposterous that I could make straight A’s in every other class but still fail this one at the same time. “I’ll think about it,” I said while doing my best to ignore his pleased smile.

It was late that night when my phone lit up with an incoming notification. I groaned in response because I wasn’t expecting anything from the boys, but then again, maybe Changbin needed fresh jerk-off material, and I could always send him a picture of my tits. But I was surprised to realize that I was wrong on all accounts, and my heart started beating faster when I read the message:

From Unknown:

Y/N, it’s Hyunjin from your poetry class.

Hyunjin? Oh, right, that was Mr. Hwang’s first name.

To Unknown:

Me: How did you get this number?

From Unknown:

H: The student profiles.

“It’s still an invasion of my privacy,” I grumbled.

H: We can be very casual with one another outside of class. Wouldn’t you agree?

I narrowed my eyes at the informal suggestion. 

To Unknown:

Me: If that’s okay with you, sir.

I waited for several moments, but it seemed like Mr. Hwang was finally done texting me. I shrugged at the unusual conversation, but before I could place my phone back on my nightstand, it vibrated with another incoming message. This one had a picture attached....

“Holy shit!” I gasped, dropping my phone onto the bed as my heart started to thud violently inside my chest.

From Unknown:

H: Do you like it, princess?

“Is he crazy?” I decried, and my hands were trembling when I brought my phone screen closer. Because the attachment contained a very obscene picture of a dick, and I didn’t need more than two guesses to assume that it was Mr. Hwang’s. 

My fingers were shaking as I stared at the image - zooming in closer to observe the delicate bead of precum glistening at the tip. There was also a hand wrapped around the base, and even though I didn’t have much experience with sex, I could still acknowledge that it was a very nice cock. But did I really just get a dick pic from my poetry teacher?

To Unknown:

Me: I’m not sure what you expect me to say.

I sent the message before attempting to fan my flushed skin - feeling overheated because this was not what I had been expecting when Mr. Hwang sent me the first message.

From Unknown:

H: It’s alright, princess. I’m not much for talking either. Why don’t you come over this weekend so you can show me your reaction instead?

Oh, god, I was definitely teetering on the precipice of very dangerous ground. I’m talking the same kind of inappropriate that could get him fired and me expelled. What the hell was he even thinking? Was Mr. Hwang trying to hit on me?!!

I shook my head because it was suddenly very difficult to concentrate, but I was also feeling the vestiges of panic creeping around the edges of my vision. My hands could barely hold the screen long enough for me to type out a quick response:

To Unknown:

Me: Maybe some other time.

The next morning, I was still shaken from my unexpected text conversation with Mr. Hwang. For most of the night, I simply stared at the ceiling while my phone continued to vibrate with incoming messages. Eventually, I was forced to mute his number, and I still couldn’t fall asleep.

I was barely functional the next morning, but I was also strangely horny, which is why I didn’t hesitate to encourage Changbin when he sent me a message asking if he could come visit. I waited and chose a time when my roommate would be gone - sighing in relief when I heard him knocking on the door. I threw it open quickly, and he was clearly caught off-guard by my eagerness. “I’m so glad to see you,” I said, and I didn’t hesitate to lock my lips with his, kissing Changbin with all the nervous energy that I had tried to keep to myself all weekend. 

“Wow,” Changbin managed when we both pulled apart for air. “The no dick policy at this shithole has fucked you up.”

“Yeah? I need you to fuck me, Changbin,” I said, and he must’ve saw something in my eyes that changed his mind. 

He pushed us both into my room, turning around to lock the door before reaching down for the hem of his t-shirt. “Bend over for me, baby,” he said, and his voice was husky as I took off my clothes and braced myself against the desk.

“I really need this,” I told him from over my shoulder - shameless as I explored every inch of his toned form.

“I got you, baby,” Changbin said, and he moved behind me to spread my legs, taking a few moments to finger me with his long digits, stretching out my opening while stimulating my clitoris with his thumb. “You definitely need to be fucked,” Changbin remarked. “Your pussy is so tight.”

“Please,” I whispered, and Changbin was quick to replace his fingers with the same cock that I often drooled over when I masturbated late at night. He set an urgent pace from the start, grabbing my hips between his hands to hold me in place as he filled me with his cock over and over again. “Changbin,” I whined, burying my face in my forearms and trying to ignore the pain in my stomach from where he knocked me into the wood on every thrust. 

It wasn’t equivocal to one of our more passionate rounds of lovemaking, but it was everything that I needed. Enough to wipe all consideration of Hwang Hyunjin clear out of my head as I enjoyed the delightful friction of Changbin’s cock rolling against the constricting walls of my cunt. “It feels so good,” I whispered, and I closed my eyes in pleasure.

“Tell me when you’re close,” Changbin said. “I wouldn’t want your roommate to come back.”

However, the inherent risk of being caught by my roommate was also a factor in my rapid ascent to orgasm. “Coming!” I shouted while feeling myself unravel around his cock as he rammed himself inside. 

Thereafter, I settled on top of my bed while Changbin tied off his condom and tossed it into the trash. I smiled when he crawled in next to me, reaching for his jeans hanging from the edge and pulling out a package of cigarettes. “Open the window,” I instructed him. “I can’t have you polluting my room.”

Changbin chuckled, but obeyed nonetheless. He also drug the ashtray on the windowsill closer before lighting the cigarette and bringing it to his swollen lips for a long inhale. “I really missed you, Y/N,” Changbin said, taking another drag from his cigarette before placing it in the ash tray next to the open window. 

“I missed you too,” I told him, closing my eyes for a moment as I relaxed against the pillows - savoring the warmth of Changbin from next to me.

“I had a nice time with you,” Changbin added. “Maybe we could...try dating again?”

I froze at the words I had been dreading to hear. You see, Changbin and I had been dating off-and-on for many years at this point, and we both knew that we didn’t work well as a couple. Yet, that never stopped him from encouraging us to try again, and as much as I loved the sex, I couldn’t tolerate the complicated feelings involved.

“I don’t think so, Changbin,” I said, wincing when I heard him sigh. “You know that never ends well for us.”

“Yeah,” Changbin agreed, although it hurt my heart to see him look so sad. “I can’t help it, Y/N.”

“We can still keep doing this,” I said, reaching over to place a tender kiss on his bicep. 

“Maybe,” Changbin agreed, but something in his tone told me that this might be the last time I ever enjoyed Changbin’s company in bed.

“Could I at least show you around campus?” I asked him. “I’ll even treat you to lunch?”

Thankfully, Changbin managed a smile at my offer. 

By the time Changbin had left campus, I was feeling strangely alone when I settled at a cafe in the student union to work on some homework. I couldn’t help but feel like I had disappointed Changbin, and I prayed to anyone who was listening that we might still be friends. Because we had been close well before the sexting and late-night phone conversations that always ended up with an orgasm or two.

Changbin was the epitome of the type of guy I usually lusted after: strong, handsome, and intimidating. But we always argued too much whenever we tried the whole couple thing, and that was enough to ruin any preconceived notions I held about a relationship with the object of my most intimate fantasies. “You always manage to ruin everything, Y/N,” I muttered to myself, and it was suddenly way too difficult to focus on homework.

But I was still distracted enough that I almost failed to recognize the man who had just walked into the cafe...until he was standing right next to my table. “I always enjoy seeing my students outside of our lectures,” Mr. Hwang said with a smirk. “Do you mind if I join you?”

It took me a while to respond to his simple inquiry because my mind instantly returned to the picture of his cock that still sat in my messages. “Sure,” I eventually mustered, willing my stomach to settle down while ignoring the harsh smell of his cologne. 

“Is that my assignment you’re working on?” Mr. Hwang inquired as he took another sip of his coffee.

Is he just going to pretend like everything is okay? “Yeah,” I said, sliding my laptop screen closer. “For the author essay.”

“Do you mind if I take a look?” Mr. Hwang asked, and I shivered at the dark look in his gaze.

“I guess so,” I said, and I passed off my computer screen, observing the way he read over the words before sighing.

“You just don’t seem to understand, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang said, and I could feel myself almost snapping.

“What don’t I understand, Mr. Hwang?” I asked with barely constrained frustration.

“Oh, please call me Hyunjin,” he replied. “Mr. Hwang makes me sound so old.”

“Fine,” I huffed. “But the essay?”

“It lacks passion,” Mr. Hwang explained. “Your writing is decent, but it’s very by the books, you know? I’m looking for my students to play around with their words and have fun! We read enough academia as it stands.”

“Passion?” I repeated. “And how do you suggest that I learn passion?”

Mr. Hwang smiled, and I felt like I had just walked right into a trap. “You’re a very young and attractive woman, Y/N,” he said. “Have you ever been in a relationship before?”

“Several,” I said, keeping my responses short and vague on purpose. Because i couldn’t figure out where he was going with this strange conversation.

“Several?” Mr. Hwang repeated. “Well, that’s a shame then.”

“What do you mean?”

“The sex must be very boring,” Mr. Hwang said. “If you’re still writing this way.”

I didn’t even bother trying to stop my mouth from falling open. “I really don’t think it’s any of your business!”

“I have to make it my business when your grades are this atrocious,” Mr. Hwang insisted, and his eyes rolled over my form. “I find myself quite attracted to you, Y/N. Perhaps I can help solve this little dilemma of yours.”

Fuck it! I thought to myself as I leaned in closer - ready to risk it all because I wouldn’t tolerate his attitude for another moment! “To tell you the truth, Mr. Hwang,” I said, feeling triumphant when his eyes flashed in annoyance at my blatant dismissal of his earlier request. “You’re just not my type.”

“And what is your type?” Mr. Hwang snapped. “Certainly not that little jock you were walking around with on campus?”

“Changbin?” I said without really thinking, but then I found myself wondering how he even knew about that in the first place. “How did you know?”

“I saw the two of you,” Mr. Hwang said like it wasn’t a big deal. “I couldn’t help but notice, Y/N, and that poor boy was following you around like a lost puppy.”

“This is crossing a line,” I said, slamming my laptop closed. “I can see anyone I want.” 

“You’re not interested in doing better?” Mr. Hwang asked. “Trust me, Y/N. I was there once, and most college boys like him are only interested in sticking their dicks into something warm. I think you need someone mature who isn’t only interested in their own satisfaction.”

“Changbin’s sweet to me,” I insisted, and Mr. Hwang scoffed.

“I bet he is, especially if you’re always willing to spread your legs for him.”

“Like you could do any better!” 

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?”

I fell back into my seat as I slowly processed his words. “Sir, I-”

“You can’t possibly know if I’m your type, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang continued. “I think I deserve a fair chance to prove you wrong.”

I could scarcely believe how casual he was acting - like this wasn’t completely against thousands of school rules. It was entirely scandalous, and there were so many inherent risks if we were to ever get caught....but, yet, somewhere deep down inside of me, I felt the familiar heat of arousal.

“You’re thinking about it.” Mr. Hwang smiled. “Come over this Friday, Y/N, and I’ll show you what a real man looks like.”

I had never been this nervous before in my entire life, wiping my sweaty palms against my jeans as I walked up to Hyunjin’s apartment. There was a far more rational part of myself that was screaming at me to run in the opposite direction, but the incessant desire to knock on the door far outweighed the consequences. And my breath hitched in my throat when I saw him standing in the doorway dressed to the nines in tight skinny jeans and a white, button-up shirt while I looked like I had just woken up,

“There you are,” Hyunjin said with a sultry tone, and he reached for my hand to pull me inside. “Sit down for a moment,” he encouraged me, smirking at the look on my face as I took in his lavishly decorated apartment. Still, I managed to obey him as I sat down on the leather futon in the center of the room.

“Your apartment is nice,” I commented, and I held my breath when Hyunjin sat down next to me - stretching out his long legs while he studied me with an impenetrable gaze.

“I have a few rules tonight, Y/N,” he said, and I forced myself to nod. “Are you aware of the color-light system?”

“Color-light system?” I repeated.

“How adorable,” Hyunjin said with a mocking tone. “You’ve made it seem like you know your way around a cock, but you’re clearly more innocent than I assumed.”

My eyes widened at his filthy language. “Sir?”

“That’s a good start,” Hyunjin said. “You will refer to me as sir tonight, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, and Hyunjin smiled at my easy compliance.

“As for the color system,” Hyunjin said. “I want to make sure that you’re comfortable, Y/N. Green means that you can handle whatever we’re doing, yellow means that I need to slow down, and red implies that we’ll stop completely. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Hyunjin purred. “Would you feel more at ease in the bedroom?”

I offered him a timid nod, and Hyunjin held out his hand which I accepted - hoping that he wouldn’t notice the evidence of my nerves. But I was half-way expecting something truly horrible, which meant that I was also genuinely surprised to discover a normal bedroom - sparsely furnished with a king-sized bed with a beautiful silk comforter. “Why don’t you take your clothes off for me, princess?” Hyunjin asked, and I shivered at the familiar pet name. “Lay down on the bed, and I’ll grab a few things before we start.”

I waited until Hyunjin turned his back to me before undressing and leaving my clothes in a neat pile on a nearby chair. Then, I hesitantly lowered my body onto the mattress while resisting the urge to cover myself. Especially when Hyunjin returned with a bundle of interesting items, placing them aside while he looked me over from head to toe. “Oh, princess,” he said. “What a beautiful body.”

I could feel myself flushing at his words and Hyunjin laughed. “Where’s that feisty attitude from before, princess? Or was it all for show?”

“Mr. Hwang-”

“Sir,” he quickly corrected me, and I stiffened when he presented a bright red blindfold. “We’ll put this on first,” Hyunjin said, and he ordered me to sit up long enough for him to secure the tie in the back - taking away my sight and leaving me anxious for his next move. “This will make everything feel so much better,” he said, and I jumped when his fingers started to trail down the smooth skin of my stomach. “Oh, you must be very sensitive,” Hyunjin remarked, and I didn't quite know what to do with my hands when he parted the delicate folds of my pussy. “Y/N, are you already wet?” he asked, and I tried to hold back a moan when he inserted one finger, moving it around before leaving me feeling empty once again. 

“Let’s try this,” Hyunjin said, and I gasped when I heard the familiar sounds of a vibrator. “You’ve probably used this plenty of times,” Hyunjin continued. “When you had to finish yourself off after those little boys tried to please you.”

He started with my nipples - moving in small circles around the hardened peaks. It wasn’t anything overwhelming, and I enjoyed the pleasant sensation. However, the soothing action didn’t last for long, and I gripped the silken sheets between my fingers, spreading my legs wider on instinct when Hyunjin trailed the vibrations down to my sensitive pussy lips. “Oh, shit,” I said, nearly exploding when the vibrator made contact with my clitoris. Especially when he increased the power - turning the damn thing up to its highest setting as he held it there in the same spot.

I was gone before it had even started, convulsing around nothing as I came hard against the sheets. And I fully expected him to stop since he had gotten his way, but Hyunjin only surprised me when he continued to move the vibrator against my throbbing clit, refusing to relinquish the stimulating vibrations as everything started to burn with the threat of yet another orgasm slowly building.

“Fuck, you’re leaking everywhere,” Hyunjin said, but there was only awe in his tone, and I could practically feel the weight of his gaze. “Such a good girl,” Hyunjin added, and he started moving the vibrator in faster circles while he refused to take it away from my poor, aching sex.

I moaned around my second orgasm - coming hard again, but there was also an undeniable sensitivity that had me trying to escape the cursed vibrator, but Hyunjin only used a firm grip on my hips to hold me in place.

“Please stop!” I cried.

“Color,” Hyunjin growled, and he continued to press down even harder.

“Y-yellow,” I stuttered, and the vibrations slowed down to a more acceptable level as Hyunjin circled the head around my clit.

“I want one more from you, Y/N,” he said. “Then, I think you might be ready for my cock.”

I almost fell apart at his words, and I found myself unable to deny that everything was so good with him. There was also a strange and foreign part of me that desperately wanted to please him, and I started rolling my hips in time with his circles, chasing another high as I nearly screamed from the intensity. “Look at you,” Hyunjin sneered when he turned off the vibrator, and I could feel the bed dip beneath his weight. He snatched away my blindfold, and I blinked rapidly at the returning light before focusing on the obscene image of Hyunjin jerking himself off in front of me. “You have to be honest with me, princess,” he growled. “Is my cock better than his?”

“S-sir?” I questioned, having trouble focusing because of the thick haze surrounding my frazzled brain. 

“That little prick you were with,” Hyunjin said. “Is his cock better than mine?”

I was smart enough to know the right answer, and I shook my head from side to side. “Your cock is better, sir,” I said, and Hyunjin brightened with a grin. 

“It’s big, isn’t it?” Hyunjin asked, and he was shuffling over me with a sardonic grin. “Why don’t you touch it?”

I swallowed hard, but quickly acquiesced, wrapping my hand around his impressive girth before allowing myself to give him several strokes - making sure to give some attention to the head. “Oh,” Hyunjin moaned, looking down at me with sultry eyes. “That feels good, princess, but would you rather have my cock somewhere else?”

I whimpered at his words. “Yes, sir.”

“Tell me where,” Hyunjin demanded. “I want to know exactly what you want me to do, princess.”

“I want your cock in my pussy,” I said. “I need you to fuck me, sir.”

“Shit,” Hyunjin snarled, and he moved my legs apart to expose my cunt. “How can I possibly say no when you asked me so nicely?”

But I was a complete mess at this point - debauched and overcome with pleasure. Yet, when I felt the tip of Hyunjin’s cock penetrate my weeping sex, I could already feel myself growing excited all over again. He wasn’t gentle either - spearing me with one harsh plunge of his erection against the resisting walls of my pussy. 

“Oh, fuck,” Hyunjin said. “Are you sure you’re not a virgin, princess?”

There were tears in my eyes when I reached out for his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he started moving himself around inside of me. Pulling back to leave just the tip of his cock at my entrance, before thrusting forward with unrelenting strength. In spite of his skinnier stature, Hyunjin wasn’t to be underestimated. He knew exactly how to use his hips, and he continued to breach my constricting cunt with everything that he had. 

“You’re taking me so well, princess,” he said, forcing my legs even further apart, and finding a better angle to attack the delicate g-spot that rapidly sent me hurtling for my fourth orgasm of the night.

I was completely spent, barely holding on to consciousness while Hyunjin finally came with a hoarse cry of my name - dragging his cock in and out of my pussy as he milked himself for every last bit of cum. Then, he pulled himself out with a far more gentle touch, leaning down for the first time that night to connect our lips in a surprisingly warm kiss.

“Is that what you were expecting, Y/N?” he asked with a playful smile. “Am I still not your type?”

I shook my head because words were the last thing on my mind. But Hyunjin simply chuckled at my speechless state, and I watched him move around the room completely naked as he cleaned up the mess we had made. Meanwhile, I held up my hands to make sure that my vision had returned to normal.

Eventually, Hyunjin settled back down behind me, and I was somewhat surprised that he hadn’t kicked me out of his apartment. Even more so when he started to run his fingers down my waist. “I think you finally learned passion, Y/N,” he said, and I couldn’t help but agree with him.

“Can I start writing acceptable essays?” I asked him with a more confident tone.

“Of course,” he agreed. “But Y/N,” Hyunjin added, and I groaned when he cupped the heat between my legs. “You better call me Hyunjin from now on.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, grinning when I heard him growl in warning.

“You’re asking for it, aren’t you?”

I gave him a coy smile in return, watching as he rolled over top of me to spread my thighs again.

The next day in class, I smiled when I saw an A+ written at the top of my latest essay assignment. One that I had stayed up late to complete while sitting at Hyunjin’s desk with his cock buried inside my wet heat. Apparently, my first lesson was complete, but I couldn’t help but think that there was still a lot more left to learn.

“Everyone did well,” Hyunjin said as he paced at the front of the room. “I’ll see you all again soon.”

The dismissal was met with the beginnings of several conversations throughout the lecture room, and I simply organized my things before tossing my bag over my shoulder. Yet, on the way out the door, I couldn’t help but smile when I heard Hyunjin’s voice from behind me. “Y/N?” Hyunjin called out, and I could already feel the arousal gathering between my legs. “Why don’t you stay after class?”

[drwcn]

follow up to [post] exploring the crack au if lwj was a girl 

〒▽〒 ps im not trying to erase canon lwj representation, not at all, wangxian is mm in all my other fics, this is just stupid fun

in a ceteris paribus situation aka all other things staying equal: 

1) Lan Wangji 100% still has a resting bitch face, which probably would get her a couple of “Lan-er-guniang 美若天仙 (beautiful as an immortal/goddess) but would benefit from smiling more” comments but nobody is that desperate to die yet so, she’s spared. But damn... imagine the sheer number of thirsty boys who’d try to secure a marriage with LWJ. None of them is good enough for Wangji as far as Lan Xichen is concerned. Okay - maybe in Lan Xichen’s opinion, Nie Mingjue is good enough, but he couldn’t be less interested. I see her as I see Huaisang, Xichen please. 

2) Everything interaction between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian in Wei Wuxian’s first life is now 500% more scandalous. 

Exhibit A) Their first meeting at the gates; Jiang Cheng immediately felt his spidey senses tingling.  —“You’d sooner have immortals flying out of your ass than get with someone like her. The second jade of Gusu? The pearl in old man Lan’s eyes? C’mon.”  —“Shut up, A-Cheng.” —“Uh-huh.”  —“Also, she’s not that pretty. Her brother Zewu-jun is much better. There’s a reason he’s ranked first.” WWX is still a disaster bi.  — “LMAO, you? Zewu-jun? Please.” 

Exhibit B) Just because LWJ is a girl does not mean WWX grew more brain cells. 

WWX, straight up to Lan Qiren’s face, “Lan-meimei and I - we’re zhiji.” (he means it like we’re kindred spirits, peas of a pod, etc)  LWJ: *does not deny* Lan Xichen: ⚆_⚆ Lan Qiren: ಠ╭╮ಠ

Exhibit C) Lan Wangji getting drunk the first time. Wei Wuxian knew he crossed a line the minute he invited Lan-er-guniang for a drink. Really, WWX, even for you, this is inappropriate. When Lan Wangji fell face first onto the table, Wei Wuxian knew, he fucked up. “Hey....hey...Lan....Lan...-er-guniang,” He poked her. “Don’t...don’t sleep here! You can’t sleep here! If your Uncle finds out or if Jiang-shushu finds out...they’ll skin me alive and then...and then they’ll make me marry you! I don’t want to marry you; you don’t talk and I’m too young!” 

WWX, being a dipshit, “Hey Lan Zhan, call me Wei-gege.”  LWJ, drunk as fuck, “Wei..gege.”  WWX *((( heart )))* ??? 

Exhibit D) The Cold Pond. Okay, so I don’t think Zewu-jun would sabotage his sister’s virtue by sending a stupid teenage boy her way while she’s bathing, but doesn’t mean Su She is above all that. Wei “I didn’t see anything I swear!” Wuxian. Lan “I will gouge out your eyes.” Wangji. Somehow they still end up in the cave. Maybe WWX got in the water after LWJ got out and got sucked into the vortex and LWJ heard the commotion, turned around, saw WWX had disappeared. “Wei Ying?!” A panicked LWJ jumps back into the pond, “Stop fooling around, come out!” 

Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing 👀👀 when LWJ and WWX fall out of the cave together. Also the fact that Lan-er-guniang and Wei-gongzi went missing, together, for two days. Who knows what could’ve happened. I mean anything really. I mean... that’s gotta stir the pot a little were it not for the Yin Iron stealing everyone’s attention away from this bit of juicy scandal. 

Oh the whole story... so much to work with, so little time. 

3) Because Lan Wangji is a girl, now suddenly there’s a high ranking member of the Lan Clan who can host the girls at Cloud Recesses. I mean, Mianmian, Jiang Yanli, Wen Qing, Lan Wangji - SISTERLY FRIENDSHIP. Other than Mianmian, none of the girls are really talkers which suits Lan Wangji perfectly. Even Mianmian’s chatter is endearing.

4) Lan Wangji is absolutely still a powerhouse during the Sunshot Campaign. The inherent aesthetics of fem!lwj telling the Wen goons to “kneel” - no one will deprive me of this.  Also she will still cut off your arm if you cross her - Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao ya better watch out still. 

I am TORN between two options: Lan Wangji tol and kickass or Lan Wangji smol and kickass. On one hand, the aesthetics of willowy elf-like LWJ, on the other hand, 5′2′’ of whoop ass who can and will throw an unconscious wwx over her shoulder firewoman-style and toll him to safety.  

And amongst other things: 

A) Lan Wangji still becomes Chief Cultivator, because excuse me who else is left to clean up this mess? Jiang “Short-fuse” Wanyin? Nie “I won’t do what I’m not intended to do” Huaisang? Jin “13 year-old” Ling? Or Sect Leader Yao?  Technically, being a woman means that she was never Lan Xichen’s heir, but at the end of it, it’s not like Gusu Lan is left with a lot of choices.  Just the poetic justice of Gusu Lan pleading for Lan Wangji to come back when she fully intends to 隐居山野 (retreat into the mountains) with the resurrected WWX.

Lan Wangji being Chief Cultivator would echo Lan Yi’s tenure and rectify the fact that Gusu Lan’s only female head of family “failed”. Lan Yi had to face a mountain of prejudice because she was woman; someone has to say “up yours” to that. A woman as not only the sect master of Gusu Lan but the Chief Cultivator? Love that for Gusu Lans. (⌐■_■) ☞ ☞

B) Because of ~ sexism ~ I wonder if Lan Wangji would get titled “Hanguang” at all even after the Sunshot Campaign. Even Lan Yi, the SL Lan of her time didn’t have a title. Chances are LWJ won’t either. (Note: Violet Spider is not a title, it’s a moniker). So — say after the way Lan Wangji is still just “Lan-er-guniang”, and she does not obtain the title “Han Guang” until after she leaves Cloud Recesses and become rogue. (srsly how did they come up with these titles in canon, did gusu lan just look at 21 year old lwj and be like yah he’s lord light bearer *cue trevor noah stand up joke* why do you call yourself “great” britain? isn’t that a bit presumptuous? shouldn’t you go around doing good things and then let other people come to the conclusion: oh britain look how great you are? same logic with lwj.) 

Lan Wangji, a Jade of Gusu or a nameless rogue, still goes where trouble is, helping those who need it. After laying low for a year or two to heal, Lan Wangji began night hunting. Donned neck to ankle in white silk and tulle, and a weimao (wide brimmed veil hat) obscuring her face, she became known to the people as Hanguang Sanren, the lightbearing wanderer. Gusu’s highest power probably has some idea who she is - or at least they can guess - but the vast majority of people don’t. 

C) Lan Sizhui raised by rogue Lan Wangji as his mum would be different. Still cultured, respectful, but definitely with an air of keeping others at arm’s length. 

For instance, grown-up Sizhui running interference and saving a cohort of gentry disciples on joint hunts.

Jingyi: 这人谁呀？Who is this guy? Zizhen: 多谢兄台搭救之恩，小可看您眼生，敢问兄台尊姓大名，何门何派，改日当登门拜访. Many thanks for saving us. I don’t believe we’ve met, pray tell what is your name and sect, so we may visit at a later time to thank you for tonight. Sizhui: 在下无门无姓 ，单名思追 。举手之劳不足挂齿 ，怎敢劳烦各位名门子弟答谢。My name is Sizhui, belonging to no family and to no sect. As for tonight - I only did what anyone would; it bears no mentioning and requires no thanks. Jin Ling: 你这人，看你工力不凡，想和你交个朋友，可你怎么遮遮掩掩的。Hey you, we see you’re a talented cultivator and want to make your acquaintance. Why are you so dodge-y? Zizhen：金陵 — Jing Ling - Sizhui: 若是有缘，还会相见。告辞。If it’s fated, we will meet again. Farewell.  

Later:  Jingyi: 思。追。 思追谁？Si. Zhui. To recollect and long for whom?  Sizhui: 母亲的一位故人. Someone from Mother’s past.  Jingyi: 你父亲？...Your father?  Sizhui: 我不知。I don’t know. 

I thought about how cute it would be if sizhui and jin ling knew each other but guys...Jiang Cheng literally thinks he killed Sizhui’s biological father. Like he literally thinks he orphaned Sizhui before Sizhui is even born. And Lan Wangji would never accept anything from Jiang Wanyin, not that it would stop Jiang Wanyin from trying. 

A package of books here, a new robe for Sizhui there. Lan Wangji doesn’t know how Jiang Cheng keeps finding her. She and Sizhui are nomadic.  

D) The inevitable conversation after wwx is revived. 

You know what would be funnier than Jiang Cheng thinking Sizhui is a wangxian baby is if Lan Qiren thinks Sizhui is a wangxian baby. 

[atiny-orbit1219]

Internet Connection

*Pairing: Idol Johnny Suh

*Genre: Fluff (There isn’t enough Johnny fluff these days, y’all some horny bitches)

*Plot idea: Most idols do indeed have a private twitter account where they like to see what their fans are talking about and interact with them secretly. Johnny was one of those idols. He loved seeing what NCTzens were up to and found it flattering how many times they called him daddy and offered to let him choke them. One day as he was scrolling through his twitter feed he saw a tweet that caught his eye. “Who has the biggest dick?” in the poll list was his name, so he commented. “Johnny of course.”

*Word count: 3,600

*Warnings: Cussing, a lot of dick talk, so cliche like this could never happen

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Were you really going to post this? Is twitter fame really worth it? You were contemplating as you laid on the floor of your bedroom. Did you have a perfectly comfortable bed two inches away from you? Yes, yes you did, but you evoked your bed privileges as you typed up the tweet you knew would give you likes and comments but throw your morals out of the window. Your finger hovered over the large post button. You groaned, the hand clutching your phone falling to the ground. “I can’t.” you finally decided. It’s sexualizing men and as a feminist at heart, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. What if some fanboy asked “Who has the biggest tits?” well the answer is Jihyo but ethically it isn’t right. He’d have his account suspended within hours. Even if your account is slowly dying you shouldn’t stoop so low. You looked up at the ceiling, your free hand resting on your stomach. You let out the long breath you didn’t know you were holding, since when did you become so desperate for the validation of people you’ve never even met in real life, so what if your follower numbers went down? So what if you’re only averaging fifteen likes per tweet? “That’s right? Why does it matter? It doesn’t… totally doesn’t.” You say to yourself, attempting to convince the voice in your head that is telling you to post the poll.

Maybe your finger slipped. Maybe you did it on purpose, you don’t really remember, the only thing you can see is your phone buzzing rapidly as the twitter notifications start coming. Within hours your “Who has the biggest dick?” Poll became your most viral tweet to date. With the options being Lucas, Johnny, Mingyu, and Mingi it was safe to say the comments were heated and the votes were split. You hated the fact that you liked seeing the likes and comments go up, were you a bad person for posting? Or are the people on twitter bad for engaging? You spent the rest of the night on your hardwood floor, bobby pins and wires digging into your back, but you deserved it. You even refused to look at your walls, too ashamed to face the NCT posters that were hung up neatly. Ever since you decided to join stan twitter you promised yourself you wouldn’t become one of those accounts who post just for attention, you just wanted to make friends who had the same interests as you. You got your first taste of twitter fame when you made a joke about idols having private twitters and seeing the horny tweets dedicated to them and it soon became addicting after that. Now that thought sent shivers down your spine and you prayed it wasn’t real as you have just become one of those thirsty tweets. Even as you close your eyes to sleep you can’t help but ignore the constant buzzing that came from your phone next to you. After a few moments of considering putting it on do not disturb you finally decided that is the best option. You lift your phone up, but before you can slide up to the options screen you see a comment that catches your eye. ‘Hands down Johnny of course’.

You tap on the account that posted the comment, the layout was borning and the username basic, but this person didn’t follow you and you didn’t follow them. You just shrug and go back to the comment, smiling softly despite yourself as you typed. ‘I don’t know… Have you seen Lucas’s hands?’ Lucas was currently winning with the votes and you couldn’t disagree, it makes sense. Not even five minutes after you replied you were sent a DM request from none other than the mysterious Johnny dick defender. ‘I think you’re mistaken, Johnny is definitely winning in that category ;)’ You couldn’t help but laugh, your thumbs gliding across the keyboard as you typed your response. ‘You’re very passionate about this, where’s your proof?’ You asked, waiting for his reply. ‘I think you just have to trust me on this one’ You scoffed and started to type, ‘My mom told me not to trust strangers on the internet’

‘Your mom is a smart woman. What’s your name?’

‘What makes you think I’ll tell you?’

‘Didn’t you join twitter to make friends? I can’t be your friend if I don’t know your name.’

‘I joined twitter to talk to more K-pop fans, I’m sorry but your coffee layout and username isn’t cutting it’

‘There what about now.’

You tilted your head slightly wondering what he changed his layout to and you had to stifle your laughter when you saw it. An entire layout of predebut Johnny and the username @John’sbigpenis. You covered your mouth, keeping your quiet giggles in as you went back to the chat, typing quickly with one hand.

‘Y/N’

‘It’s nice to meet you Y/N’

And just like that, you spent almost the entire night texting, you figured out his name is Jason and he just casually listened to K-pop but his friends were really into it and because he followed them your tweet landed on his feed. He was funny and had you smiling for so long your cheeks started to hurt, you haven’t had a conversation like this on twitter in awhile all of the group chats you joined slowly drying up, so this was a nice change. But eventually it became harder and harder for you to keep your eyes open, the light from the screen not helping. You finally had to say good night to Jason and within seconds of shutting your phone off you passed out, not even feeling the discomfort of the floor anymore.

The next morning the first thing you did was check your DM’s and couldn’t help but smile as you saw the unread message. ‘Not to be a creep or anything but I looked at your location on your profile and looked up your timezone. Good morning :)’ You sat up slowly, the blanket you were using falling down your body, so he was in a different timezone? ‘What time is it for you then? Also good morning ;)’ As you awaited his response you finally got up from your spot on the floor and threw the blanket you were using on your bed. You walked to your wall blindly as you wiped the sleep from your eyes and flipped the switch causing light to fill your room. You sighed as you looked at your bed, contemplating just going back to sleep but you could also smell the breakfast your mom was making down stairs so you decided to manage your priorities, eat breakfast then go back to bed. After that important decision was made you made your way down stairs and as predicted saw your mom in the kitchen cooking away. You said your good mornings and lifted yourself up so you were sitting on the counter of the island. Your mom used to complain about your ass being where the food goes but after she saw that you didn’t care she slowly stopped as well. As you were sitting and chatting you felt your phone go off from your pocket, you grabbed it and smiled as you saw his user pop up. “What are you smiling about?” your mom asked curiously her eyes glancing over at you for a moment before going back to mixing the pancake batter. “Oh,nothing, just a friend on twitter.” You say your attention is still stuck to your phone as you read the message ‘I am a few hours ahead of you , I live in Chicago! Born and raised.’ You almost didn’t hear your mom speak, “Y/N… you know I don’t like you talking to strangers on the internet. What if they’re some forty year old man who just wants your feet pics.” You just nod, having had this conversation more than once. “Mommm you know I’m smarter than that… I’d make him pay for my feet first. But for real, this is the only way I can talk to other people who like the same stuff I do, unless you want to listen to me talk about K-pop for hours on end I need to get it out somehow.” You said, raising your eyebrow as you gave your mom the ultimatum. “Make your money honey, it's your feet not mine.” and with that you grabbed your plate and started to eat.

‘Ahhh so is that why you’re so defensive over Johnny’s penis? Gotta save the reputation of Chicago boys?’

Just like that you ended up talking to Jason everyday for weeks. From morning to night you two never seemed to run out of things to talk about. Soon he knew more about you than your close friends did; it was so easy to talk to him and he said he felt the same with you. He was there for you when you were having a mental breakdown while trying to get NCT 127 concert tickets, he was there while you screamed about how hot every member looked in the new Kick It music video, especially the man that brought them together, A.K.A Johnny Suh, he was there for everything. After awhile it was safe to say you were falling for him.. Well at least his personality, you haven’t seen his face. He’s seen yours of course as he hyped up all of your selca days, you respected the fact he didn’t want to show you his face but as time went on you couldn’t help but get a bit nervous. What if he really is a forty year old man only after your feet? But all of that soon changed.

‘You got P1 tickets to the Chicago concert right?’ You read the text that was sent to you and tilted your head curiously. You were currently packing for the three day trip your mom and you were taking to Chicago. You unfortunately lived in a state that always had zero tour stops and the closest city was Chicago and this was the first time your mom agreed to letting you go since she knew how much you loved NCT. But you guys decided to make a trip out of it and would be staying for a couple days after the concert. You started to type with one hand, messily folding clothes with the other. ‘Yep! I’m packing right now! I’m so excited!!’ You said truthfully before going back to practically shoving your multiple outfits into the suitcase. After a few moments you felt a buzz, ‘I’m going too-’ You didn’t even finish reading the text before your eyes opened wide and your stomach did flips. Jason was going to be there!! As you slowly started rethinking your outfit choices you finished the text. ‘Do you wanna meet up? I know this 24/7 cafe close to the venue.. We can meet after the concert? If you want?’ You were confused at first, why meet up after the concert in a separate location, but just the idea of meeting him made you consider it. ‘Why not before the concert at the venue?’ You asked, wanting a valid reason to meet up late at night at a cafe. You now completely gave up on trying to pack as you impatiently waited for his response. ‘I can’t get there until right before the concert starts because of work and it's always too crazy in the venue after. I understand if you’re not comfortable with it.. I just… really want to meet you.’ Just that line right there made your heart skip a beat. ‘I’ll ask my mom.’

It took quite a lot of convincing, your mom not liking the idea of meeting a stranger you met online one bit. But she also knew you were a responsible Young adult and always had your phone on you, plus she would be right there in case anything did happen. So finally you got the greenlight to meet him. You could barely believe it, not only were you going to see NCT 127 and go through Hi touch, you were going to meet the internet friend that you have been talking to everyday for a couple of months now.

~

You always knew that there were buildings in Chicago, but you didn’t expect them to be THIS big. It was the day of the concert and your mom and you were only a few minutes away from your hotel and you couldn’t wait until later tonight. Only a few more hours. You spent the majority of that time getting ready, you wore your favorite outfit and spent an extra long time on your make-up, making sure you didn’t look like you just got done with a nine hour car ride. The time went by fast yet slow, the feeling was weird, you couldn’t believe this was all actually happening. Yet soon enough you were in line to have your tickets scanned to enter the concert venue. You achieved the wristband for P1 and attempted the merch line but ended up having to say screw it as the concert was starting in ten minutes. You made it to your seat right before the room went dark and then it started.

Throughout the concert you were singing and dancing and crying, you were feeling so many emotions at once and you never wanted it to stop. You were too caught in the moment to notice the eyes that were on you almost every chance they got, he also couldn’t believe this was happening. As the final song played and you found yourself tearing up once again you looked for the man who started it all between you and Jason. You found Johnny singing on stage, was he…. Was he looking at you? Nah he's probably just scanning the crowd like most artists did, but you still couldn’t ignore the feelings his glance gave you.

You were in the line for Hi-touch, your hair and makeup miraculously still decent looking as you started walking forwards, following the people in front of you. In just a few moments they were right there, the only thing separating you was the table they sat behind. They looked the same as they did on your screen but in a way ten times better, they were real and your hand was touching theirs. You didn’t really know what to say and you didn’t have the time to say much, so you stuck with a simple hello and a smile. You approached the last member, Johnny was watching you the entire time you walked down, he just held up his hand and muttered 'heyas’ as you got closer. This was the first time he'd seen you up close and he had the same feeling you Had. Your pictures are beautiful but something about seeing you in real life was so much better. Your eyes met his as you had to reach up a bit more to touch his hand, he smiled down at you, not able to say anything before you had to move on and walk out of the building.

After recollecting yourself and fixing up your runny mascara from crying too much you and your mom headed to the cafe to meet Jason. Many thoughts swam through your head most of them just not able to get over how amazing they all looked up close but the rest were nerves on meeting the man you’ve grown to have feelings for. You reached the cafe and got out of the car, letting out a nervous breath as you walked in, the shop was empty and the worker behind the counter was almost asleep and jolted awake as you stepped in. You ordered a green tea because you felt like you should order something and not just sit down like a total bitch. After a few minutes your phone buzzed. ‘I’m on my way,, sorry I’m late. got caught in traffic.’ The butterflies in your stomach only grew in numbers as you replied, ‘I’m here, sitting in the back’.

You were sipping on your tea as you heard the door behind you open. You were too scared to face the door so you sat with your back to it, but only when it opened did you realize that it was much more nerve wracking. You couldn’t even turn around your hands shaking as you took deep breaths, you could hear footsteps approaching, Jason was here… and right behind you. He walked around your seat and sat across from you, you were too scared to lift your head so instead you stared at his chest. “Y/N?” his voice was deep… and familiar? You looked up and out of shock from what you saw your hot tea slipped right out of your hands. You hissed softly and reached for napkins but the man in front of you was quicker, he ran to your side and knelt down, using his sleeve to wipe your lap. “Sorry.. Should’ve thought that through.” He said with a small laugh. “You’re… Jason?” you asked, unable to believe it even if you were looking right at him. “Actually… my name's Johnny and we just high-fived like half an hour ago and I can explain everything.”

~

“So.. You have a private twitter and you found my tweet and commented as a joke but decided to start a conversation with me?” You asked, looking at the idol in front of you. You’ve pinched yourself at least ten times now but everytime hurts more than the last so it can’t be a dream. “I start casual conversations here and there with fans just to see how they’re doing but you’re just… different.” He said. He had on a black baseball cap that was lowered over his face so no one walking past could recognize him. “As we started talking more.. I started looking forward to talking to you and you practically got me through this comeback season, when I was stressed and tired, just talking to you let me take my mind off things… I dunno.. I think I really like you.” You were at a loss of words as you listened to Johnny speak. Were you trapped in some tumblr fanfiction? This can’t really be happening. “I… I really liked talking to you too… you were the first person I opened up to. Whether it was Jason or Johnny I’m really thankful for having them to rant to and if the person I was talking to really you… then I think I like you too.” You said softly and even behind the hat you could see Johnny smile. He moved over to your side of the booth and you scooted to give him some room. “Since we both think we like each other… Why don’t we kiss and find out?” He asked cheesily before leaning in, naturally you closed your eyes and when you felt his lips press against yours it finally set in that this was all real. You were kissing Johnny Suh from NCT, Johnny Suh was kissing you. You moved closer, placing your hands on his sides as his moved to the back of your neck, holding you gently as he allowed the kiss to last for a few more seconds before pulling away. “So… Do you know for sure yet? Because we can do that again if we need to.” He said playfully and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Just to make sure,” You whispered before grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and pulling him into another sweet kiss. He smiled against your lips, chuckling softly as he fully wraps his long arms around you. “Yeah… I definitely like you.” You said breathlessly as you pulled away and he nodded quickly in agreement. “Me too.” he said with a large smile. “You said you're here for a couple more days? Do you maybe wanna go on a date tomorrow? We don’t leave for the next venue until tomorrow night so we have all day.” He offered. You nodded, not planning on turning down THE Johnny Suh. “It’s a date.” You said softly and he couldn’t help but smile and kiss your cheek, and your nose, and finally your lips, “We have two months to make up for in one day.. I’m gonna make it count.” He said, his large body clinging on to you even when you weren’t kissing, and you definitely weren't complaining. But as you two were sitting there, you in his arms and head on his chest you thought of something.

“Wait a minute… if you weren’t in Chicago but Korea when texting me… When did you sleep??” You asked, looking up at him with concerned eyes and Johnny just laughed and tightened his arms around you. “Shhh… It was worth it.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ahhhh! Sorry for the delay,, I started this one and I just wasn’t feeling it for the longest time, when I write dialogue I focus on body language so majority of this scenario being text was totally out of my comfort zone! But I hope you guys like this one! And thank you so much for the love on my first post it means a lot!

[azaerlyn]

A chill ran down her spine as she exited the bar and she pulled her sweater tighter around her for warmth as she began walking down the street toward the bus stop. 

She knew better than to leave the bar alone, what with all of the recent disappearances that had been happening lately, but she was tired and wanted to go home. She wasn't a party girl, the bar wasn't her scene, but she went anyway because it was her cousin's birthday and would have felt guilty if she hadn't shown up for at least a couple of hours. The group had been too wasted to notice her slip out the door, having only had a couple of fruity cocktails. 

As she neared the end of the block an unwelcomed feeling overcame her. She braced herself against the corner of the brick building and closed her eyes tight, dizziness waving through her head as she felt her body become weak. 

They stood back, watching her. Waiting for the right moment. The drug the bartender had slipped into her last drink hadn't taken full effect yet but it was working. Yes, it was all going according to plan. One of them chuckled darkly, eyes darkening as he watched her uneasily round the corner into the alley to sit against the wall in an attempt to regain her senses. She was falling right into their trap. 

"Now!" hissed the second

This one was impatient. Always ready to jump on their prey and take her as his own without thinking of the consequences that would form if the abduction wasn't done just right. 

"Not yet." 

The older, larger, and more sensible of the group shushed his partner with a finger to his pointed lips. His eyes never left the poor girl who was fading quickly. 

"Help" came a quiet mewl 

"Now" the leader growled 

The second man scrambled out from the dumpster and hurried over to the inebriated girl, changing into character before he knelt beside her.

"Miss?" He asked, holding her head up and looking into her eyes

He felt his cock twitch along the lining of his pants as her green eyes flickered up at him weakly. They appeared desperate, lost, scared. He resisted the urge to lick his lips and continued the facade. 

"Help me" she whispered "I..I don't feel.."

"Shhhh, Darling, take it easy. Don't look so good, did you have one too many?" He chuckled softly "Do you have a cell phone? I'll call for help."

With little strength she pulled her phone out of her pocket, her energy giving way as it fell out of her hand onto the ground. He picked it up as her body slumped over into his chest, eyes closing as she faded into unconsciousness. 

He made quick work of making sure no traces of her or him would be found. He held the mobile device in his hand, chanted a quick spell, and watched as it burned to ash against his palm. Dropping the remaining soot to the ground he picked up her bag and lifted her easily onto his shoulder. 

"Let's go." The eldest took one last glance over his shoulder before opening the back door to a building and they entered, a flash of red light appearing behind them as they stepped through the portal with their victim. 

"Put her down, on the grate." 

"You know, Kenaji, one day I'm going to get sick of taking orders from you." 

"Is today that day, Dane?" The leader stood, broad chest taught and dark eyes narrowed, challenging the inferior one "You want to do this now, because I'm ready."

"No, man, come on we have a job to do." Dane muttered, looking away

"That's what I thought." Kenaji laughed, teeth shining with a cheeky smile at his victory

Dane rolled his eyes and placed the unconscious girl on the ground, laying her body across the metal grate and shackling her limbs to the metal bars. 

"Should we start now or wait for Benji?" Kenaji asked as he looked over the girl's body

"Start now." Dane shifted from one foot to another as he rubbed his hands together

"Figures. Go on, have your fun before she comes to." Kenaji rolled his eyes and sat down in the black leather chair

Dane knelt down between the girl's splayed legs and ran a hand up one of them.  As he went further the hem of her dress rose, exposing her thighs. 

"Look how smooth and pale she is." Dane commented as he slapped her thigh hard "Oh yeah, this one's going to mark up nice and red for us."

"Just don't damage this one. You know how He feels about damaged goods." 

"He can lick my ass." Dane muttered as he held out his hand above the girl

A silver knife appeared and he gripped it, running it down her body until he got to the exposed panties. He quickly sliced the cotton material off of her, paying no attention to the small starry print on them as he ripped them away from her crotch. 

"Fuck, look at that pussy. Looks so tight." Dane growled 

He ran his thumb through the folds of her vagina, brushing it against her clit. With his other hand he removed his cock, stroking it as he coaxed the nub out of it's hiding place. 

"Alright, baby doll, you ready?" He laughed, knowing that she couldn't consent

Dane positioned himself at her entrance and shoved his cock inside her dry hole. It didn't hurt him because demon cock was always slick from constantly being in heat. The girl's poor pussy, however, would be sore upon awakening but that would soon be the least of her worries once they really got started with her. 

Once Dane had unloaded his hot cum inside of her he pulled out, put his cock away, and walked over to the fridge standing in the corner. The contents of the fridge mostly held concoctions of  drugs used on the victims but even demons get thirsty after strenuous activity. 

"Toss me one, would you?" the third man asked as he stepped through the portal and into the room

"About time you got here." Dane tossed a beer to his comrade and smirked "How was work?" 

"Shut up." 

Benji, the youngest of the trio, hated being the worker bee. He was the one with the charisma, the "people skills", so naturally he would be the one to land the jobs that would discreetly allow him to scope out the next victim. Their Boss wanted specific types of girls lately so just grabbing them off the street without taking a few notes first was no longer an option. 

"Boys, don't fight. We got to get a move on with this one. He's going to want her quick especially with how disappointed he was with the last one" Kenaji glared at Dane

"What?" Dane shrugged in feigned innocence "Stupid cunt deserved it." 

Kenaji just glared at Dane as he stood from the chair. He made his way over to the girl and waved his hand over her. The rest of her clothes tore into shreds, leaving her completely exposed to their gaze. Her nipples hardened as the cold air hit them, causing all three men's cocks to stiffen as they thought of the possibilities. 

Their victim began to stir, chains rattling as she attempted to work her limbs. Small whimpers and helpless moans left her lips as her eyes fluttered open. 

"Showtime" 

Benji clapped his hands together as he knelt down at the girls side. Dane took his place at her head and Kenaji knelt between her spread legs. 

"Wha-" the girl muttered as clarity began to return "Wher-?"

Upon realizing that she was chained against a cold metal surface and that three large and intimidating men were surrounding her she began to struggle. 

"None of that now" Kenaji's deep voice spoke as he placed his hands on her shaking legs "Not gonna get out of these, so you might as well save your energy."

"You're going to need it" Benji laughed 

"Please!" She flailed more, attempting to cover her exposed body "Where am I? What do you want with me?" 

"Well, Sweetheart, you're in Hell." Benji smiled, sharp teeth shining against the flickering candle light "And it isn't us who wants you."

"Hell?! Am I dead? I don't understand, I'm a goo-"

"A good girl. Yes." Kenaji shook his head as he squeezed her thighs "They all say that, but it's never true. You're not dead. You see, we used a little black magick to transport you across the realm without harming your physical body. We need you perfectly intact to meet the Master."

"M-master? Lucifer?" 

"Enough. Gag her and let's get started." Kenaji ignored her question and began to run his hand over her pussy

"No, please!" She screamed and flailed at the touch, begging them to let her go "This isn't real, this can't be happening!"

"Oh it's real, whore. It's very real." Dane said as he produced a ball gag from thin air 

Upon seeing the gag she instantly tightened her mouth shut, shaking her head vigurously. 

"Open wide, bitch" Dane slapped her across the face but she did not relent. He sighed. "A little help here, Benny?'

"For the six billionth time, Fuck Face, it's Benji." 

The demon reached over and pinched his fingers around the girls nose, blocking all air flow while she continued to keep her mouth closed. 

"Fighting us is cute, but it'll only entertain us for so long." Kenaji said as he rubbed his finger in a circle around her clit 

Within seconds she gave up the fight and gasped for air, barely getting a full breath into her lungs as Dane pushed the gag between her teeth and secured it. Sharp intakes of air and snarles left her nose as she felt tears roll down her cheeks. 

"Oh quit crying, we haven't even got to the worst part yet." Dane slapped her again before kneeling back to his place beside her 

"Watch closely boys. I'm going to show you how to break a slut like this one in nice and quick." Kenaji smirked down at the girl as he pushed the long black hair away from his face "You are a slut, aren't you?"

She shook her head furiously, arms still pulling at the restraints. 

"Oh but you are." Benji chimed in, reaching out to grasp a nipple and squeeze it "I know all about you. You think me pouring you a drink at the bar was our first interaction? It wasn't."

As Benji spoke Dane handed Kenaji the tools needed to begin his process. A bottle of warming lube and a vibrating wand joined the space between her outstretched legs and the lead demon began to prepare her pussy. 

"I've been following you for weeks now, you just didn't know it. I've watched you go to work, volunteer at the animal shelter, grocery shop…" Benji paused to squeeze her breasts in his hands, kneading them hard as she squealed with fright "I've even watched you shower."

Her eyes widened at the thought and her mind raced  back to her recent showers. For a split second she almost forgot that Kenaji's fingers were finding their way inside of her used hole, still sticky with cum, and she winced as the tenderness of being raped with Danes' long and thick shaft shot through the muscles of her pussy. 

"You guys want to know what my favorite part about spying on this slut was though?" Benji laughed, flicking a nipple "Watching her cum to all that filthy, degrading porn she watches." 

Her cheeks reddened and her chest flushed with humiliation. She writhed her hips to try to attempt escape but that only made Kenaji's fingers slide deeper inside her. 

"I knew you were a slut" laughed Dane

She began to cry, muffled protests and please left the gag. They fell on deaf ears as Kenaji thrust his fingers in and out of her. 

"You've thought about this. Being taken, used, fucked like a piece of meat." Benji growled "Now you're going to get your wish." 

She screamed as she felt Kenaji's hand slide into her, fisting her sore pussy now. She trashed as much as her bonds let her and Benji held up a hand as Dane went to hold her down. 

"Let the little cunt fight it, let's see how long it takes her to figure out that the more she squirms the harder she fucks herself against Kenaji's fist."

She instantly stilled her efforts at the statement and was met with a series of "awws" from the three demons. 

"No, go on, keep fighting it." Kenaji urged "Turn yourself into a fuck puppet on my hand. No? Alright, we'll make you then."

Another scream attempted to fall through her gag as the vibrator was turned on and pressed against her budding clit. She thrashed as much as she could against the grate, screaming for it to stop. It didn't stop. In fact they kept going. Dane and Benji slapped and pulled at her tits, Dane choked her while Benji laid a series of punches across her chest and stomach, all while Kenaji continued to fist and vibrate her pussy. After several minutes of the treatment her body began to betray her. Her pussy pulsed around the hand inside it and her clit fluttered against the head of the toy. The pleasure of orgasm overtook her, distracting her from the pain, and soon she was shuddering. She panted as she came down, hoping that they would stop. It continued. For hours they beat her, tortured her tits, pulled at the hairs of her pussy, and made her cum over and over again until she thought she would pass out. Dane reached up and removed the gag and shoved three fingers into her mouth. He pushed to the very back of her throat, causing her to gag as she came again. As he removed his hand a stream of spit came with it and he wiped it across her face in disgust. 

"Filthy fucking animal" 

A slap across  her face didn't phase her. Her pussy was on fire and she knew she couldn't cum again. 

"No..more...please" she feebily shook her head, the fight long gone

"No, Baby Girl, you don't get to say when you've had enough." Kenaji punched his fist into her again, his knuckles brushing against her cervix. She wailed. "You're going to cum for me until I'VE had enough"

The growl that ended his sentence sent a shudder through her entire body and she shook, her limbs tensing hard and her body convulsing. 

"Three…" he began as he rubbed the vibrator over her clit harder 

"No, please!"

"Shut up, cunt!" Benji hissed 

"Two..come on, you can do it, give me one more."

Kenaji's tone was encouraging now. Coaxing her to be a good girl for him, to give him what he asked for. She couldn't wrap her head around the sudden softness in his demeanor but whatever he was doing was working. 

"That's my good little cum slut. You ready to give it to me, Baby Girl? Come on...CUM NOW!"

The scream that left her body as she exploded into orgasm echoed throughout the hallways of Hell's dungeon. Prisoners, slaves, and the Master's harem of playthings could all hear the gruelling, devastating sound of her soul being twisted as she lost control to the demons. They shuddered, thankful that it wasn't them this time, and winced as the reminder of knowing they would continue to be tortured resignated which each piercing shriek from behind the iron door. 

Her eyelids fluttered and she gasped for air, feeling darkness overcome her. 

"Good little slut" Kenaji chuckled as she collapsed against the metal grate, falling back into unconsciousness. 

As they rose from the floor to leave her there, dripping with her own juices that was dropping through the bars and down to the discarded sluts chained below, Benji made a slight twitch of his fingers over her and smirked. Her slumber wouldn't be peaceful with the images he'd placed in her head. He walked away as she began to whimper in her sleep. 

To Be Continued…

[lo-mindpalace]

10 - Sweet Rides

(BOBBY’S POV)

“What am I supposed to do? They’re your kids, John.” I said.

“Bobby… Dean is 10 and Sammy’s 6. I can’t let them go with me on this case.”

“That’s why I’m saying they are your kids. They are more important than this case! Come on, let me go there instead of you. Stay at my place with the boys.”

“No. Maybe it’s a lead to the son of a bitch who killed Mary. That’s MY case.”

I raised my hands and shook my head in disapproval. John looked at me with dead eyes. What the hell was wrong with him? I wanted to tell him so many things. About how it was wrong to leave his sons alone while he was off hunting like a desperate man. I met his boys in February 1989. And now this was the fifth time I saw them and 1989 wasn’t even finished. I began to understand that John was turning me into a nanny or something like that. This was wrong. I like the boys but John is the father for God’s sake. I was about to tell something and I felt Dean’s little hands gripping my pants and looking at his father while standing behind me.

“Where are you going, Dad?”

“I have to go to work, Dean. You stay with Bobby and you take care of Sammy, understand?”

“Yes, Sir…”

John looked at me and nodded. I was still shaking my head in disapproval, my angry gaze stabbing John’s empty shell. Idjit. Such an Idjit. He left without words and didn’t even turn around when Dean called him one last time. I saw the little boy’s sad face and closed the door. I was about to say something but I heard a big noise in the kitchen as if something very fragile had fallen. Dean’s eyes widened and he ran into the room.

“SAMMY!”

I followed Dean and saw shard of glasses which belonged to an old bottle of vodka. Sam was standing next to it, his face full of fear. Dean rushed into his brother and checked on him.

“You’re okay, Sammy? Are you hurt somewhere?”

“Mh-no…” Sam said, tears beginning to fill his eyes. “I just wanted to drink water…”

“That’s not water, Sam. That’s alcohol. You can’t drink that, it’s forbidden, okay?”

“I’m thirsty… Where is daddy…? I want to go home…”

The poor kid was about to cry but Dean hugged him and dried his little brother’s tears.

“Sammy, look at me… Look at me.” Dean said softly. “Dad is working. So, we have to stay at Bobby’s. I know it’s a weird place without any toys but we will find games to play, alright?”

I rolled my eyes when Dean mentioned how weird my place was. Well, it was obviously weird because it wasn’t meant for kids. I sighed and told the boys to go to the living room while I was cleaning what remained of the poor bottle of vodka. I had to find something to keep the boys’ poor minds busy. I looked at the pile of mails and flyers and saw that a gathering of old cars – with activities such as car rodeos or rallies – was taking place in Sioux Falls today. What a lucky dude I was. I took the paper and went to the living room. I crouched in front of Sam and Dean.

“Look boys, I know there is nothing to do here but… What about going there?” I asked while giving Dean the paper. “It’s a gathering of old cars and there are a lot of things to do there.”

“But Dad said we had to stay here…” Dean said while pouting.

“Well, John’s not here so I am technically in charge of you boys. I am the one who can decide.”

Dean seemed to hesitate. He kept looking at the paper before looking at Sam.

“Do you want to see old and sweet rides, Sammy?”

“Like the one daddy has?”

“Yes, even older!”

“I would love to.” Sam said with a big smile.

Sam gave me a beautiful smile and I admit I couldn’t resist to this angelic face. Damn, John, you should see your boys right now.

* * *

The sun was up in the sky and Sam and Dean were over excited. “Look, Sammy” Dean was repeating to his brother, showing him all the cars. I had a beer in my hand and I put mini sandwiches and a bottle of water in a bag for the boys. They were running everywhere like little fireballs and it was hard to keep an eye on them. But I managed to do my best unlike John. I like him, but he is irresponsible with his children.

Sam and Dean were looking at old cars. I even told them that my first car was this old Studebaker lark from 1960 but mine was greener. Dean was beginning to be an expert in cars, like his father, and Sam was paying attention to each word Dean was saying, without really understanding but seeing his old brother that enthusiastic made little Sammy happy. After a moment I called them to come watch the car rodeo. When they arrived on the platform, I gave them the sandwiches and the water and they sat quietly, Sam swinging his legs happily. It was like they never went to these kinds of events and at this thought, I was a bit sad. Poor kids. They deserve a normal life. During the car rodeo, Dean was shouting like a cowboy or something, whereas Sam was snuggling a bit against me.

“Are they hurt? The people inside the cars?” He said with a bit shaky voice.

“Don’t worry, Kid. That’s their job, it’s a show.” I said, reassuring him. “You don’t like it?”

“Not really but Dean is very happy so that is making me happy too.”

I smiled a little bit. Those brothers were very close. Dean was everything to Sam and that pinched my heart a bit.

“Okay, let’s say that car rodeo is Dean’s entertainment. What do you want after this? For your entertainment?”

Sam pouted while thinking.

“Fireworks…?”

“Mh, I think the fireworks are later after this show. But we will stay to see them.”

“Thanks Uncle Bobby.” Sam said with a smile.

I raised my eyebrows at the nickname. I swear, those kids were making my grumpy ass very soft. Sam stayed close to me the entire show, eating his sandwich. At the end of the rodeo, we went for a walk, in order to stretch our legs. We wandered around the cars until we found a good spot to see the fireworks. It was already getting late and Sammy was being impatient. After an hour, the first firework exploded in the sky. Sam’s eyes were shining and he was captivated by the colors. During this moment, Dean came closer to me and held my hand. I lowered my eyes and looked at him, a bit surprised by his movement. He looked at me too, smiling.

“Thank you, Bobby. That was a beautiful day…”

“You’re welcome Kid. I know my place can be boring for two children, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I understand that you are not supposed to keep us. But it’s nice to do it anyway.”

My face saddened a bit.

“I will buy some stuff for you boys just in case you are staying again.”

“I really want that…”

“Want… the stuff?” I said arching an eyebrow.

“No… I really want to go to your house again with Sammy. To go to see sweet rides, going to a restaurant, walking around Sioux Falls or just playing hide-and-seek in the scrap yard. If you don’t mind, of course.”

“I really don’t mind, Dean.”

“But… You seemed to hate that when Dad told you to keep an eye on us.” Dean said looking at me.

I sighed. Damn, this kid is a good observer for a ten-year-old boy.

“Yes, well… John is your father. He is supposed to take care of you. Not me… But… I won’t leave you and your brother alone. So, I’ll do your father’s ‘job’.”

“… You are a great father… Uncle… Whatever…”

No words would come out. I looked at Dean and tightened my hand around his. He is such a good kid. He and his brother. Such good kids. I looked at Sam and then the fireworks, enjoying this moment with my two little boys.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hope you liked it. I admit I’m pretty proud about this one... Bobby is one of my fav characters (along with Cas) ♥

[bakugouscentedcaramel]

💕Soft Bois Hour 💞

We all just need some softies up in this bitch, buckle up your hearts y'all because here's a bakers dozen of soft Bois here to soothe your affection thirsty hearts

Bakugou

You're planted firmly in his lap with your back flushed against his chest

His chin resting on your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your torso

You both are just watching a video on your phone, you laugh which causes him to watch you instead

Your laugh was what first started it, he felt his heart swell with softness

The vibration in your body warmed his senses as he felt himself smile at you

His eyes locked onto your face, the eyes that melted him, the mouth that showered him in love, the blush he craved every single waking day

He nuzzled into your neck and sighed contently

You could feel his steady heartbeat on your back as he leaned further into you

"You're so beautiful Y/n..." He grumbled against your skin as his arms softly tightened their hold on you

Todoroki

You two were on a date and decided to sit outside at a café

The sun was beaming and so we're you

To be honest he wasn't paying attention to what you were trying to tell him, he was too busy being infatuated with you

Your bright eyes shone with enough light to put the constellations to shame

Your lips were more tempting than any cafe cookie, the way they moved put him in a trance

The way your hair blew in the wind could've been out of a movie scene

And he loved every second of it

He reached out to brush the back of his hand against your cheek and smiled softly

You paused at the sudden touch before you saw his eyes lid softly before

"Y/n, I love you more than anything..." He grabbed your hand and kissed it tenderly before taking a sip of his coffee, basking in the blush that dusted your cheeks

Midoriya

You two were just laying down after a hard busy day

You were laying on his chest with his arm around you, just listening to him rambling about his day, occasionally adding your input

Until your answers got shorter and more simple

You could feel the sleep shrouding your eyes

Izuku kept rambling for about 15 minutes before he realized you fell asleep

He smiled softly

He always found it cute that his voice alone could put you to sleep, but he also couldn't help but feel that he bored you to sleep

His thoughts snowballed causing his anxiety to rise

Until you shifted into him and murmured a "Keep going, Izu.."

"A-anything for you, Y/n..." He kissed your forehead and continued his banter about the silver age of heroes, his voice now significantly softer than before as an actual attempt to get you to fall asleep

Shinsou

He didn't understand any of this

You were just cooking but you were so..

Breathtaking

The way your hair fell on your shoulders, your fluid movements, and god your humming...

He couldn't help himself from walking up to you and hugging you from behind

His arms wrapped around your waist and he rested his head on your shoulder

"Are you sure you don't want my help, love?"

Your affirmation was just as intoxicating as how your eyes looked at his with such a love filled energy

He chuckled and started swaying the two of you to the beating of his own heart

He hummed a melody of his own making, the vibrations tickling your skin

Slow dancing with his glorious Sun was all he could ever ask for

Kaminari

"Hey Babe! Whatcha think?" You gave your Thor Knockoff a twirl

You came out of the dressing room with full on Chargebolt merch

He whipped his head over and you could see him about to short circuit, a soft dorky smile gracing his face

Unknowing to you, you gave him the knock out move

You giggled at his reaction and flashed him that dazzling smile

The lights flickered and he was down for the count

Once you explain to the staff that he is indeed ok and there's no need to call an ambulance, you drag him into the dressing room, power bank charger in hand

After a few minutes of charging his batteries he let out a dazed chuckle

"Y/n... I'm so grateful for you, you have no idea, hot stuff"

"Clam it pika, you can't be doing this at every single store we go to."

Tokoyami

You two were in a tree, just watching the stars through the cloudy sky

You were laying in his lap and your back against his chest, his arms keeping you steady and secure on the branch

Everything was so peaceful, until he let out a frustrated sigh, Dark Shadow eyeing his weilder

"I'm sorry that the sky isn't clear enough for this, Y/n. The forecast said it was going to be crystal clear."

You laughed causing him to recoil in surprise

"Love no, it's already perfect. It's so pretty how the stars peak through the clouds like this, they dazzle through the leaves and it's like a little show for us. Not to mention any time we spend together is already perfect!" Lean further into him and look up at him, giving him that intoxicating smile.

His features relaxed and his grip on you tightened, Dark Shadow finding a more comfortable spot on the bark

"You are too good for me, my Queen of Darkness.."

Kirishima

You've just gotten out of the shower, already dressed and your hair in a towel

Your Shark boi wasn't about to pass up this opportunity

"Hey Y/n, want me to do your hair?" His smile should've been illegal

You shrugged and agreed, no harm in it right?

As soon as the towel came off he was starstruck

Got a whiff of your shampoo and nearly keeled over

Brushes your hair for you and makes sure it doesn't pull, taking impressive care not to be too rough

Low-key spends most of the time combing through your hair with his fingers

Eventually gives you a braid crown

"Every Queen deserves a crown, and your hair is like the threads of heavens harp, my goddess..."

Iida

You were working later than usual, and he hated it

He knew how hard you were on yourself if you didn't "work to your fullest"

So he did the best he could

He cleaned your shared apartment and left you dinner in the fridge, did your laundry for you, the whole 9 yards

But you were still out later than he thought

Ended up leaving four voicemails, each one sounding more tired than the last one, always ending with "I love you, Y/n, come home soon"

You came home to him asleep on the couch, his mouth partially open and his arms crossed

Once he heard your keys rattling on the table he groggily woke up

"Nngn, welcome home, Y/n... Let's go to bed.."

Aizawa

He must've fallen asleep on the couch you two just bought

The last thing he remembers was stretching out on it and you joining him

Now he's awake and you're still asleep, on top of him, your gentle snores causing a smile to creep on his face

He picked up the blanket from the floor, you must've shook it off in your sleep

He tossed it over the both of you, hoping you wouldn't wake up from the movement

You only just stirred before nuzzling into his chest

He chuckled quietly before playing with you hair, twirling it between his fingers

"My Nap Queen..."

"...ngn.. Nap King..."

Fuck you heard him

Now he has to come up with a clever excuse for his blush

Toshinori

He was up extremely late grading papers and customizing each of his students training regiments

You loved the fact he cared so much about his pupils but he needs sleep too, and you've gotten into the habit of sleeping with him so sleeping by yourself was out of the question

You watched him from the doorway of his office, blanket draped over yourself like a gown, the dim light of candles illuminated his desk, the smell of papers and ink flooded your senses

You couldn't help but yawn at the relaxing atmosphere

Toshi huffed and turned to see your sleepless self watching him

"I'll be finished soon, I promise my love." He gave you a weak smile, his eyes hazed with his own tiredness

"Toshi, please darling. You know I can't sleep without you, I can come by tomorrow for the class as an apology for their papers not getting graded. Please come to bed, hon."

He couldn't help but smirk at your plea

"I suppose" he blew out the candles and made his way over to you

He picked you up gently and started princess carrying you to the bed

"You certainly are the best decision I've made, my heart."

Dabi

You were full of piss and vinegar today, and he might've just unleased a rabid beast

One of his teases sent you over the edge

You were bottling up all of the weeks frustrations but his snide comment just uncapped it all

"You're a son of a bitch Dabi, you know that? You never fuckin help me with ANYTHING but you want me to cater to your lazy ass??? YOU FUCKING WANT FOOD GO GET IT YOURSELF YOU FOOTBALL LOOKIN MOTHER FUCKER-"

He was starstruck, a normal person would've retreated with their tail between their legs but he was infatuated with every emotion, every expression, every syllable

You truly were his very own wildfire

He slammed his lips into yours with an unexpected energy

It was soft and sincere which was unlike him

Was this his way of apologizing? Or was it..

He's smirking at your bafflement

"Relax Dollface. Don't worry about dinner. I'll take care of it. What's my wildfire of spite in the mood for tonight"

You could've sworn you saw a shit-eating grin through his honeyed words

Shigaraki

You two were sleeping next to each other, but with different blankets

You knew he was scared of ever touching you but tonight was going to be one of the worst

He started tossing and turning suddenly, unconsciously scratching in his sleep, he was having a nightmare

His trembling form rattled the bedframe. His breaths that choked him, his frantic mumbles, his desperate clawing, all filled the room

You gently shook him awake, worry filling your heart and mind. His eyes shot open, red and bloodshot, a tear rappelling down his face

He shoved you away and sat up, his back facing you while he tried to catch his breath

You laid against his form, hoping your warmth would comfort him like normal, you hummed one of his video games' melody in hopes of calming him

He didn't acknowledge you, but you could feel him slightly relax under you, a shaky huff escaping his lips

He's slowly getting used to contact, he just needs some time

[electronicgrowth]

My Best

Hi! So, I’ve never written fanfiction before, but this came to me and I started writing it and it got away from me. Plus, there is a major lack of Ransom Drysdale on Tumblr, and I’m a thirsty bitch. Please be kind with my very first fanfic. It probably sucks, but here it is! 

“Please state your name for the record.”

“Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“How old are you Miss Y/L/N?”

“24.”

“And you and Ransom Drysdale are involved?”

“Yes.”

“How long have the two of you been involved for?”

“About two years.”

“Miss Y/L/N, can you confirm that Mr. Drysdale was with you on the night in question?” 

“Yes.”

“And the video in question was recorded that night?”

“Yes.”

“And you are currently pregnant with Mr. Drysdale’s baby?”

“Yes.”

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. This wasn’t what I had ever wanted. I was scholarship kid at Boston College. I got the opportunity of a lifetime when Harlan Thrombey offered me a part time gig as a research assistant. Harlan even let me look over his manuscripts and give him notes. He told me he trusted my instincts. Although, I never knew why that was. 

That’s how I’d met Ransom. I was a good 10 years younger than him, but I caught his eye. It started out simply, flirting whenever he came to the house. Then Nana got sick. 

I went out drinking trying to forgot that the light of my life was sick. And there he was, that motherfucker. 

He bought me drink after drink and listened to me talk of Nana. We fucked the first time that night. 

From then on we fucked constantly. I spent most nights at his place. It felt good to have someone give a shit. Someone who wanted to pay attention to me. 

This went on. I graduated from school. And Harlan maneuvered me to get a job at the publishing company. Much to Walt’s chagrin. 

Ransom and I still went at it. I wondered if he was sleeping with other girls. I couldn’t imagine he wasn’t. But I couldn’t find it in me to care. I loved him, but I knew my time with Ransom was limited. I resolved myself to take what I could get. 

Then Nana died. After 18 months fighting her cancer she died. I had to go to Minnesota. Ransom begged me to come back by Harlan’s party. Saying he couldn’t face it alone. Unfortunately everything at Nana’s took longer than anticipated. I got back after the party had ended. I even had to go back the next week to tie up some loose knots. 

I called Ransom to get me from the airport. 

He looked great. He rolled up in his Beamer. He looked so hot. He smirked at me. When I finally reached him, he covered my mouth with his in a heated kiss. His right hand snaked down to grab my ass through the leggings.

“Missed you, baby,” he growled, “Need to get you home so I can fuck you.” 

“Take me home then,” I gasped. The ride home to his place was tense. I could see how much he wanted me if his pants were to give me any indication. I kept fidgeting trying to get comfortable. 

When we finally pulled up to his place I could barely take it. We barreled into the house.  Into his room. 

“Baby,” he moaned, “Wanna try something new?” His eyes sparkled mischievously. 

“What do you have in mind?” I asked skeptically. 

“I know you have to go back to Minnesota in a few days,” he began, “and I missed you so much this last time. Maybe we could film it.”

“Ransom,” I started.

“It would just be for me, baby,” he begged. 

“I really don’t know,” I said. 

“Come on,” he said, “you know you’re my girl.” I finally looked up at him, eyebrows raised. 

“Y/N,” he said sternly, “I love you.” Three little words and my world was turned upside down. I would like to say that usually I would be more skeptical, that I fell for those words because my Nana had just died, that I desperately needed to be loved in that moment. But I was a fool for Ransom Drysdale. I would have believed him no matter what. 

I looked into his eyes, “Say it again.”

“I love you,” he breathed, he kissed me deeply. He started grabbing my ass again. I reached down and started massaging him. He broke our kiss to start undressing me. It was a frenzy. He took off my sweatshirt and t-shirt. He pushed me back onto his bed and grabbed my leggings and pulled them off. When I was left in just my bra and underwear I leaned up. 

“Get your phone out baby,” I said, reaching for his belt. He pulled off his shirt and grabbed his phone from his back pocket. I unzipped his pants and pushed those and his underwear down just enough that his cock sprang free. I wasted no time. First I teased him. I licked his length then took as much as I could in my mouth. I swirled my tongue around him while he was still in my mouth, wetting as much of him as possible. I hallowed my cheeks and starting bobbing my head. I could feel the camera on me. I looked up through my lashes at the phone. 

“Shit, baby. You look so sexy,” he moaned out. He pushed me back, off his cock. He set the phone down next to me, and removed his pants and briefs the rest of the way and kicked them away. He got down on his knees. 

“Here baby,” he said, “You film me know.”

I angled the phone towards him. He started with kisses on my lower stomach and then my thighs. Finally he kissed my mound. 

“God, you are so wet for me,” he smirked, “I can feel it through your panties.” Very carefully he rolled my panties down and off my body. He licked my opening and began fucking me with his tongue. It was so erotic to watch him do it through the phone camera. When he raised his mouth I thought he was going to give me a reprieve, instead he sank two fingers into me.

“Jesus,” he groaned, “I swear you get tighter every time.” All I could do is moan as he pumped his fingers in and out of me. I could hear how turned on I was. It sounded like a porno in his room. He started to slow down.

“Tell me what I want to hear baby,” he said, smirking down at me.

“R-ransom, oh fuck,” I started.

“What was that, babygirl?” He asked mockingly. 

“Ransom, please fuck me with your cock,” I begged, “I need it so bad.”

“Yeah?” 

“God, I need it so bad, it hurts,” I moaned. He grabbed the the phone from my hands and sprang up. He grabbed one of the bedside tables and dragged it forward. He propped his phone up against some books he had laying on the table. He reached into the drawer and grabbed a condom. I recovered enough to remove my bra. He looked at me hungrily as he got on top of me. He propped himself up on his forearms. I hooked my legs around him, like he liked. He pushed himself inside me and began pounding. 

Ransom was always vocal in bed. He had to say exactly what was on his mind. 

“God, missed you so much. I can’t let you leave me again. You’re my girl right?”

I nodded in response. I couldn’t speak, just moan and gasp.

“I gotta make you my girl. Gotta keep you here. Don’t leave me, babe.”

“I’m not gonna leave you,” I gasped. He stalled a bit. Slowed his pounding to a careful roll of the hips. 

“Promise?” He asked, his eyes were begging. I wondered if something was upsetting him. 

“I promise, Ransom,” I whispered. I reached up to cup his cheek, his hand grabbed mine and he kissed my palm. 

“I love you so much,” he said.

“I love you too,” I responded. He pulled out of me. 

“Turn over,” he commanded. I did. I got on my knees and leaned down so my head was resting on my hands. Ransom gruffly grabbed one hip, I could hear him behind me, he was pumping himself based on the sounds the latex was making. When he re-entered me he grabbed both my hips to pull me back against him. I was a moaning mess. 

“Oh fuck, Ransom. You feel so good,” I moaned. 

“God, this pussy is so tight,” he growled, “and it’s all mine right baby?”

“All yours!” 

“Say it again.”

“This is your pussy, Ransom.”

“Fuck, yeah.”

He growled. I moaned. He pulled me up so my back was against his front, one hand around my neck, the other wrapped around my waist. I could feel how close I was. My legs were shaking. He kissed my neck, in the place he knew made me weak. I reached one hand up to keep his head in place and the other guided his hand down to my clit. 

“Tell me you love me, one more time baby,” he begged.

“I love you, Ransom,” I moaned. With that, he came. Feeling his pulse inside me pushed me over the edge. We both took a minute to catch our breathe. He leaned over to the table and turned the phone camera off, he was still inside me. Very carefully he pulled out. He got up to throw the condom out. I got onto my back. It felt different, like something was coming out of me. I leaned up and looked down. 

Shit.

Was that cum? 

“Ransom?” I asked.

“Yeah, baby,” he called from the bathroom. 

“Did that condom break?”

“Fuck me.”

“It’s okay,” I said, “I’m on the pill. So, I’m sure it’s fine.” He appeared from the bathroom. 

“You sure?” He asked.

“Yeah, totally,” I said. He crawled back onto the bed and kissed me deeply. When he was done, he plopped down and pulled me into him. He grabbed one of my legs and hooked it around his hip. I laid my head over his racing heart. I fell asleep like that. 

The next day Linda called Ransom about Harlan. Everything moved quickly. There was a funeral. 

Ransom and I still weren’t public so we planned on going separately. He wasn’t there. I was confused. But he and Harlan always had this special relationship that I couldn’t understand. Maybe he just needed time? 

I still went to his house each night. And fucked him. Until I had to go back to Nana’s house in Minnesota. 

While I was gone it fell apart. Everything happened. Ransom got arrested for murdering his grandfather, the housekeeper, and trying to kill Marta. 

Linda was frantic. The lawyers his parents hired badgered him about a potential alibi. Getting the recording deleted would help, but with an alibi he would be home free. 

I found it odd, them talking about the recording getting erased. But then it did. The police chopped it up to technical failure. But Linda had someone on the inside that did it all manually. 

On top of that, Ransom did have an alibi. One he could prove. He had a video of him fucking a girl that was timestamped for that night. Granted it was later than when Harlan died. But picking said girl up from the airport was so close to time of death, how could it have been him?

The lawyers didn’t like the angle of Ransom and I just messing around. Not that we were anymore. I was living there, but we weren’t sleeping together. We barely spoke. I was starting to feel like I was there to cook and clean. He couldn’t look me in the eye. 

“I mean, she is my girl,” Ransom had told them, not looking at me. 

“Yes, a girlfriend. Not very substantial for the image I’m afraid,” one lawyer had responded. 

“What if she was his fiancee?” The other bartered. 

“Yes, that is quite good,” said the first. 

I looked at Ransom. Was he actually going to go along with this? As it turns out he didn’t have to. Because I was pregnant. Now, I was his girlfriend he was having a baby with. One he had talked about marriage with.

At least that was how it was presented in court. At home he was distant. I didn’t know what to think. I had known Harlan. Had worked for Harlan. Was I even ready to be a mom? My own mother hadn’t even raised me. What did I know about being a mom?

Ransom’s lawyers played the video in court. At least part of it, to prove that we had been having sex that night. So, he couldn’t have had anything to do with his Grandfather’s death. 

Eventually, I was put on the stand. 

“Please state your name for the record.”

“Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“How old are you Miss Y/L/N?”

“24.”

“And you and Ransom Drysdale are involved?”

“Yes.”

“How long have the two of you been involved for?”

“About two years.”

“Miss Y/L/N, can you confirm that Mr. Drysdale was with you on the night in question?” 

“Yes.”

“And the video in question was recorded that night?”

“Yes.”

“And you are currently pregnant with Mr. Drysdale’s baby?”

“Yes.”

With the deleted recording and alibi I provided, Ransom could only be charged with aggravated assault. He received one year of house arrest, with 2 years probation. 

His parents were content with that. The lawyers were downright thrilled. I still didn’t know what to think.

We got home after the trial, and he couldn’t look at me. We walked into the kitchen and he went right for the beer. I set my bag and coat down on the island. 

“So,” I began, “How long is it going to take you to dump me after all this?”

“Excuse me,” he countered, glaring at me. 

“Come on, Ransom. I know the whole family thing isn’t what you want,” I said, “You can barely look at me. And you haven’t touched me since before you got arrested. When you told me you loved me did you even mean it?” I was starting to raise my voice. 

“That night, did you ask me to make that video because you wanted to? Or because you wanted an extra alibi? Did the condom even break that night? Or did you take it off to try and knock me up for this whole family guy image your lawyers used.” I was fully in his face now. But he was finally looking at me. 

“Don’t you dare say that, Y/N!” He screamed with a look in his eye I had never seen. 

“You want the truth Y/N?” He growled, “I did everything I was accused of.” Now I was terrified. Was he going to kill me? I started to back away from him. But I bumped up against a wall. He caged me in with his arms. 

“And yeah, I made the video just in case I needed an alibi. I even took the condom off when I started to fuck you doggy. But I only did that because that night I finally had clarity. I knew that I loved you. That you were the only girl I was ever going to love and I had to do whatever it took to keep you. So, yeah. I took the condom off hoping to knock you up. But don’t for one minute think that I don’t love you,” he yelled. 

“You haven’t been to one doctor’s appointment with me since we found out four months ago,” I argued. 

“I’ve been a little busy here, Y/N!” He screamed. He wiped his hand down his face. 

“Do you not love me anymore?” He asked in a small voice, looking down at our feet. 

I faltered. I shouldn’t love him. He killed someone. He used me. But my heart bled for him. 

“I’m an idiot. But yeah, I still love you,” I said. He looked into my eyes and then he kissed me. He kissed me deeply. When he finally stepped back, he scooped me up and carried me to bed. 

He laid me down gently and got on his knees. 

“Can I see?” He asked.

“See what honey?” I asked cupping his cheek. 

“The bump?” He said quietly. 

“Oh, yeah,” I said. I stood up and walked passed him. I took off my heals and tights. Then I pulled the dress I was wearing over my head. I was left in my bra and underwear, I brushed by Ransom a second time to sit on the bed again. My four month bump was out there. He cradled it in awe. 

“I do love you,” he said, “I know I have a lot of shit to make up for. But I’m going to do my best.” 

“You better,” I said as he kissed my belly.