#its a reflex at this point. girl cut that shit out

[entitty]

the worst part about developing a habit over the years of aggressively flirting with your friends is that you eventually meet other, different friends

[little-engineer-who-cant]

Strange pairs in odd junctions create beautiful things. This work briefly overlaps with Orpheus, Don't Turn Around (i know you will, you always do)

Part 6 of Sirens Scream Names Forgotten by Tomorrow, Laid to Rest in Infinity

(Chapter 1 under cut)

Chapter 1: Heartbeats in the Shape of Stab Wounds

Summary: Tick, tick, tick-

“People say hate is a wasted emotion, a destructive force you can do nothing useful with. They’re wrong. I’ve gripped rage, I’ve wielded it like a weapon.”

- The Corset (Laura Purcell)

“How’s the eye?” Clarisse asks, leaning back on two chair legs. As if it isn’t incredibly obvious. 

“Blind,” Silena replies bluntly from where she’s reorganizing her medical supplies, making the other girl splutter into the glass of water she took an ill-advised drink from. “Put all four legs on the floor, Clair, before you eat it. Or worse, break something else.”

“Gods-” she gasps, but obeys. “What the fuck?”

“No point in beating around the bush.” Never had been, not since she woke up with warped vision and a gut wrenching certainty. Not since she had to spend six months retraining herself how to pick up a fork without missing.

“Fair enough I guess but…”

“But what?”

“I don’t know, I guess I wasn’t expecting you to be that blunt about it.” 

“Dancing around doesn’t change the truth.” She’s had to relearn how to survive, compensating for a picture that isn’t complete anymore.

“You’ve changed.”

“What’s with that tone?”

“I can’t tell…” Clarisse says slowly, scrutinizing, “if it’s for the better.”

“I don’t think that’s for you to decide.”

“Oh?”

“You don’t have to live with me. I do. So how you categorize my change doesn’t matter. Only mine does.” Silence ticks by in the beats of their hearts, eyes never wavering from one another. Sizing each other up, identifying weak points and escape routes. Old habits never really die, do they?

“What are you doing, Silena?” Clarisse murmurs eventually, standing up and setting the water aside.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what are you doing in Gotham? This isn’t a game.”

“Neither was the Titan War.” If Clarisse thinks she can intimidate her into cowering, standing down, or backing off, she’s in for a rude awakening. 

“Yeah, no shit. But Gotham?”

“Where else could I go where everyone would leave me the fuck alone?”

“The wilderness?” Clarisse gestures wildly, to everything and nothing. “Literally anywhere but here?”

“Too many monsters, everywhere but here,” Silena snarks, sticking a new bottle of saline into the closet next to a suturing kit.

“The fucking Joker is here.”

“The Joker isn’t looking for a pound of demigod flesh to make his next meal. He’s not an issue.” Especially if Jason has his way, he’ll be in the grave soon enough.

“Maybe not, but Black Mask is definitely trying to hunt the vigilante that you’re fucking. Red Hood? Really?”

“Clarisse.”

“Silena.” Clarisse’s shoulders slump and she blows a frustrated breath out of her nose. “Seriously, you are playing with fire.”

“Believe it or not, I am aware of that.”

“So why aren’t you stopping? Keeping him close is a death sentence.” The implication from the mouth of a person who doesn't know him makes her vision go red. She’s not sure if the bile and asphalt she’s swallowing is her own anger or Clarisse’s jealousy.

“Because I love him.” Definitely from Clarisse, the taste of pitch intensifies at the admission. It’s the brutal truth, in all its ugly beauty. She loves Jason and as long as he keeps coming back to her, to the sanctuary she’s made here in the pits of Hell, she’ll welcome him home. Come what may. 

“Right.” Clarisse looks away, chewing her lip. It’s a gooey taste, that jealousy. Silena hates the texture more than the flavor. “That.” 

“Yeah.” Silena puts more bandages into, clicking her tongue reflexively, like that will dissipate the unpleasant taste of tar. It lingers at the back of her tongue all the same, because she cannot rid herself of something that is not hers. She places another bandage in the plastic bin, frowning as she notices the visible dent this whole… event has made in her supplies. Should I go back out? Should I risk-

A thud against the brick makes them both jump, Clarisse at the ready and in front of Silena in a second flat, despite her hissed breathing. 

It takes another breath for her to relax and snort in annoyance.

“Your boy is here.” More tar. 

“Stop.” 

“I didn’t do anything,” Clarisse scoffs.

“Yes, you are.” Her fists clench around a box of Band-Aids, crushing the cardboard. “Stop it.”

“What do I need to stop?”

“ Feeling ,” Silena hissed, screwing her eyes shut and the cardboard tears right alongside her patience. “I can taste how much you hate him, Clarisse, and I swear on the-” she cuts herself off before she finishes that destructive thought.

“I-” Clarisse touches the back of Silena’s neck, a fleeting thing. “I don’t know how to stop.” 

The thud sounds again. Silena pushes out of the closet and shoves past the once-immovable statue of the daughter of Ares. It takes a well placed poke that makes Clarisse bend away with a gasp, but Silena manages. A dick move, a low blow, a thousand other awful things, but gods damn it all-

“Figure it out or get out. I’m not going to live like that in my own damn house.” Anger propels her from Clarisse’s side, but by the time she reaches the window where Jason is sitting, she’s tired. Tired enough to ignore the smoke, the ash, the dirt painted over him in a thin layer. Whatever he did tonight didn’t go well.

Leading him inside is the easiest thing in the world. Everything and everyone else keeps telling her to be careful, to watch her step, everyone but him. He looks at her with haunted eyes that can’t believe she’s real and he lets her take his weight without question as she guides him to wash his deeds away. Allows her to scrub away the blood from his scrapes and sit in pensive silence.

Lets her care for him, love him, even if he can’t say it, or you’ll get killed.

Well, even if she does die, at least she can say she lived first. At least she’s doing what she wants, and not playing someone else’s game.

“I love you,” she tells a man who can and should kill her but constantly stays his hand. “I love you.” Because he needs to hear it and she needs to say it because even when she’s swallowing awful things, there is something there that tastes like the purest flame, cleansing everything and it’s overwhelming as his tears wet her skin. 

When she kisses his hands, all she tastes is love.

—

“I have to check,” he argues in the light of day, all their confessions left behind in the dead of night. “He fucking got away! Someone has to hunt him down and it sure fucking won’t be Bruce!” 

“Does it have to be you?” she shouts back. “Does it have to be now? You were caught in an explosion less than twelve hours ago, Jason!”

“Yes, it does, because no one else will do it! They’ll just put him back in Arkham and this damn cycle will keep going-”

“You are hurt and you want to go back out there?” she demands. “You can’t even wait a single day?”

“I waited long enough,” he shoots back. “I should have followed him, instead of coming here at all-”

“And done what? Collapsed in a ditch until Black Mask found you? Found him and then succumbed to injury? Found him and he had company? Tell me, what should you have done, Jason?”

“I could have ended this! You wouldn’t be in danger if I hadn’t come here and now you’re trying to stop me from-”

“From fixing a hypothetical problem?” she cuts him off. 

“It’s not hypothetical when it’s your life on the line!” he snarls back, stepping closer and towering over her but she didn’t give in to Clarisse, she’s not going to give in to him either. Not if it keeps him alive, which he seems intent on not being . 

“Are you that determined to get yourself killed to prove a point?” Silence meets her yell, Jason blinking at her like he’s never had anyone question his sometimes wild risks, his insane decisions, his impulsive fuck it we ball mentality. Like hell that’s gonna fly now. Most of the time, he’s very particular. 

But now is not most. 

Now, he’s running out like a deranged and half feral racoon intent on war crimes. He has been since the night she came clean.

“Jason,” her voice breaks. “Please, please at least wait. You’re hurt.” 

“I can’t,” he whispers, face set and determined, the scar slicing up the side of his head crossing perfectly with a shadow from the window that makes it look like the slash is a hollow void across his face. She’s looking into his mind, tasting his love and his hate and his violence and she’s going to puke- “I’ve waited too long.”

“Is your pride worth your life?”

“It’s not my life I care about-”

“That’s the problem !” and she’s screaming again, unable to stop the tears, I finally get something good and now the gods want to rip it away. Cruel enough to frame it as his own choice, nothing more than a machination of the Fates- “I care about your life, Jason! I care about your life! Please, please , don’t do this-”

“Do you care about my life because it’s mine or because you’ve killed someone in my place before?” 

It’s dead silent, in her head and her home. Jason’s eyes widen and she thinks she tastes the static shock of panic, but really, she can’t taste much of anything. Death maybe, because the dead can’t taste at all so that’s what death has to taste like. Nothing. Like Charlie’s body. Gone. Ash. 

The ringing in her ears doesn’t stop the tidal wave of betrayal . She’d bared her heart to him and this was how he used it? Turned around to plant a knife right into her gut and tear downwards, sentencing her to long and painful demise? Her heart on a platter and he’d thrown the whole thing out a window by even daring to suggest-

All because she wanted him safe. Because she wanted him alive and not dead in an alley with a Glasgow smile carved into his cheeks alongside that horrid little J, undeniable brands of a monster. But he won’t listen to her-

Oh, a long forgotten little whisper beckons her, warm, welcoming, an old friend, but he will. Open your mouth, and he will.

Inhaling, she lets the sweet warmth fill her mouth, pressing against the seal of her lips as she stares him down as his mouth opens and closes in slow motion. One little word. If she says no…

You can stop him. One little breath, a small slit in her lips, and he won’t go. It’d be so easy , just one word.

His eyes are glazed already, a riot of emotions crossing his face at lightning speed. One word, and all that would fade, go lax, return to the calm of I’m right, just listen to me and it will be okay and he’d stay here, with her-

“Anna-” It’s a bucket of ice water. Anna, spoken in a hoarse voice that sounded so ruined. Anna, who isn’t a person, who hasn’t betrayed him time and time again. Anna, who smiled and spun him around and loved him and laughed and cried, Anna, Anna, Anna-

I’m not Anna.

Anna would never consider this. The play is over she’d told him, the curtain closed and the encore of tears had died down. But, to him, she had always been Anna, not whatever hateful thing is clawing in her chest now, that cloying whisper she recognizes and has given into so many times before.

Her lips stay shut.

She can be Anna one more time. She can ignore that voice, she can let him keep his mind. She can play pretend, one more time.

Even if it costs his life.

Whirling around before she can reconsider, she retreats to her last bastion of safety, the only surefire way no one can follow her. Running to her bedroom, she slams the door, ensuring he won’t follow and neither will Clarisse.

Pressing her ear to the door, she listens to them argue. She listens to them leave. Peeling away from the wood, she shakes out her hair, walks over to her vanity and glares at her reflection before taking a deep breath and grabbing her makeup bag. There’s a few outfits she’s been saving for a special occasion, and this certainly applies.

Gotham is Red Hood’s playground, but Silena Beauregard is a spy. She’s one of the masses, a smiling face who too many people like. Pretty enough to turn heads, non-threatening enough to fade from memory. In the right clothes, walking the right street, talking to the right people, she’ll learn more than any torturer. It’s a skill she perfected years ago and a good spy never lets their skills die.

A good spy always has an eye peeled for good places to find information and Silena’s web spreads farther than anyone else knows, hidden along cracks in Gotham’s concrete and growing taller alongside the weeds. Years of keeping herself alive here have taught her where to look.

Recapping her lipstick, Silena rolls her neck with a pop and bares her teeth. A wolf amongst sheep, a smiling face amongst an unsuspecting crowd. 

She can’t stop Jason from hunting down the Joker.

But she can get to him first.

[moonflowers-and-sunrays]

(suggestive stuff (its not that bad tho), a gun, threats)

original prompt by @gingerly-writing !!!

----

Hero stared at the floor, clenching her fists.

"Yes, sir."

The mayor beamed. "Wonderful! I'm so glad we're on the same page."

She turned to leave, slamming the door behind her.

---------

Hero checked her watch. 7:56.

Villain should be getting here any second.

She excused herself from her clumsy dance partner and swhng open the door to the bathroom, locking it behind her.

As she rifled through her purse, she caught of a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

She looked quire good, avtually. She was wearing a dark blue gown with an empire waist and balloon sleeves, and a mask that matched, with blue feathers on the sides and gold stitching. Her hair was down, though perhaps she should've put it up for practicality reasons. No matter. It was down now, and she looked good.

Hero finally found what she was looking for- a small pistol- and put it in a hidden holster under the dress. She splashed her face with cold water, went over the plan once more in her head, and finally, left the bathroom. And as she was walking towards a waiter holding a tray of hors-d'œuvres, she happened to make eye contact with the exact person she was hoping to see.

Villain.

She took a stuffed mushroom and positioned herself in his line of sight, making sure to be discreet. He was talking with a few people, perhaps colleagues, perhaps strangers.

Hero scoffed. He looked annoyingly good.

Just then, Villain looked at her, and they made eye contact.

Gotcha.

He walked to where she was standing, and held out a hand.

"Dance with me?"

Hero rolled her eyes in a way that she hoped was charismatic. "At least ask me for my name, first."

He smirked. "That kinda ruins the point of a masquerade ball, dontcha think?"

"Touché." She laughed as she let him lead her to the dance floor, taking note of where the mayor was as well- sitting with his partner at the head of the table. Figures.

"You're acting awfully strange, mystery girl. Care to tell me what's going on?", Villain said, jokingly, snapping Hero out of her world of thought.

"Ha-ha," she said, deadpan. "I'm just distracted by everything. Everyone looks so-"

"Beautiful?" He looked at her. "Yeah. They sure do."

"Oh my god, shut up. That was so cheesy." She snickered.

Villain grinned. "Agh, sorry. It's a reflex- I was raised on Disney channel."

They waltzed in silence for a bit, never missing a beat. After a while, Hero pulled on his tie, signaling him to lower his head.

"Meet me in the courtyard by the giant topiary in 5 minutes. Come alone." She smiled at Villain before leaving him alone on the dance floor.

Once she was out of sight, she took off her heels and ran to the courtyard, being careful to stay clear of guests. When she finally found the giant topiary, she stopped behind it to catch her breath before taking the gun out of its holster and putting her heels back on.

Five minutes later, Villain showed up.

Bingo.

He stood for a moment, waiting for his dance partner to show.

Hero silently crept behind him, holding out the gun. He turned around.

Shit, he's hot.

She held the pistol steady and pressed it om his heart as he slowy raised his hands.

"We really must stop meeting like this. mystery girl."

She blushed. Fuck.

"Cut the crap, Villain." He flinched. "We need to talk."

"And here I was thinking there wouldn't be much talking. Thats alright."

"Shut up."

Villain put a hand to his mouth and pretended to zip it shut.

She took off her mask for a moment. "I have a proposition for you."

"Im all ears."

"The mayor asked me to kill you."

Villain didn't even blink. "Do you know what a proposition is?"

She ignored him, and continued. "Actually, it was less of a question and more of an order. He threatened me too. If I dont kill you, he'll kill me."

Villain nodded. "Sounds like you know what to do then. Don't worry, I'll make sure no one uses your urn as a trash can."

"Very funny." Hero said, deadpan. "This is where you come in. You see, I have a few snipers here and there that are pointing right at you. I give them the word, and they pull the trigger without hesitation. Hear me?"

"Loud and clear, sir."

"Great." Hero tapped the gun on Villain's chest a few times.

"What do you want me to do?"

Hero smiled. "I'm so glad you asked."

Prompt #3388

“Do you work for me or not?”

“Well, I-” The hero paused, restarted. “Technically, yes.”

“Then, technically,” the mayor spat, “when I tell you to kill a villain, you do what you’re told. Or I’ll revoke your hero’s license, and you can find yourself on the other end of that order. Am I understood?”

[jetiisyandereclones]

Kix x Reader

Kix met his darling at a liquor store.

She was working when he had been planetside on leave.

What got his attention was the huge, fuck off scar on her forearm. He whistled, impressed by the size of it.

'That's quite the battle scar you have there'

He told the young lady. She looked at him, her eyes bored as if she'd had this conversation many times before.

'Yup. The glass table put up quite the fight'

Kix was confused. Glass doesnt leave a scar like that.

'What happened, if you dont mind me asking? I just mean, that's no glass cut'

The woman just shrugged.

'Eh. A friend and me got drunk one night, and I mean blackout, wake up on a roof off planet kind of drunk. From what I'm told I fell onto a glass table and got cut up really bad. So my friend, in all her inebriated genius suggested we cauterize the wound s-'

'That's not how that works, that's not how ANY of that works! You should have seen a doctor!'

The woman rolled her eyes at Kix.

'Well I know that NOW, but by the time I came back around i had already taken a hot knife to my arm.'

'Hot knife?'

'We heated a pocket knife over a lighter until it was red. And for your information we couldnt have gone to a hospital if we wanted to. Its way too expensive and I wasnt ready to take out a mortgage for some stitches.'

Kix was stunned. Was medical help really that expensive for civvies?

'You...cant afford medical care?'

'I can barely afford to eat most of the time.'

The girl had long finnished putting his items through and bagging them.

Kix was about to leave when he turned back, writing something down on his receipt.

'Here. This is my com, I'm an army medic. If you need medical help again, please just call me. Do not attempt to fix yourself up again. Your lucky you didnt die of infection from that.'

Y/N half heartedly took the receipt, fully expecting some sort of innuendo. But none came.

'Oh that's nothing. You should hear about some of the other shit me and my friends have had to do'

'I get the feeling I'd rather not know. I'll see you around'

Kix left the store. Y/N felt a little unsettled.

She was used to people pointing out her scar and stupidity, but something about that man unnerved her. She looked down at the paper.

Kix, his name was.

Y/N crumpled up the receipt and threw it in he bag.

'Ah well, he's probably just trying to get into my pants'

Life went on and Y/N eventuallybforgot about Kix, until one night a few months later.

Y/N had gotten a few days off of work and her and a friend had decided to walk down to the 24/7 convenience store for some food. It was pretty late at night, but both her and her friend knew the area well. It was well lit and the people on the street familiar.

But tonight there was a drunk driver about.

Y/N had just come out of the store, her friend beside her, closest to the road when a speeder tore around the corner, cleaning Y/N and her friend up and leaving her cut up and dizzy on the footpath, but her friend on the road, her bones twisted at an unnatural angle.

Desperately, Y/N ran to her side. Digging through her bag looking for her come and anything that may help her when she came across the receipt from kix.

Y/N wasnt thinking straight when she called him. She knew she shouldve called an ambulance but at this point refusing professional help was reflex and she wasnt in a clear state of mind to resist her instincts.

When Kix picked up his com, he wasnt expecting to hear his darling on the other end, panicked and breathing hard.

'KIX, kix, is that you? I need help, quickly. Are you on coruscant?'

'Yeah, yeah I'm here darling, what's wrong?'

'We've been hit by a car near our place! My friend and I. I'm okay but shes all twisted up and I dont know what to do. Please come Kix, she looks real bad and I dont even know how to help her and she might die and...'

'Y/N! You need to stop. I'm on my way there, just keep an eye on her breathing and make sure nobody attempts to move her!'

'Thank you, thank you so much Kix. Please hurry'

Kix hung up the line. Y/N never once wondered how he knew where she lived, but she didnt care. He was there in record time and he brought the good stuff. Bacta, and the strongest painkillers the army had to offer. He had brought his friend with him, who had later introduced himself as Jesse.

He diverted the traffic and alerted the head of the coruscant guard about the situation.

An ambulance pulled up and Kix loaded Y/N's friend on board, reassuring Y/N that she wouldn't have to pay. That this was a favour a friend owed him. As they drove, Y/N noticed two things.

One, that Jesse was showing a little too much familiarity for her friend, especially since Y/N knew they hadn't met before.

And two, they werent heading to a hospital, they were heading towards the GAR's space docks, where their fleet was anchored.

'Where are you taking us?' Y/N questioned kix. He turned to her, his eyes soft.

'We are taking you two somewhere you'll be safe and out of harm's way. She'll get the best medical attention.

Kix raised his hand to her face, gently tilting it up to examine her imjuries.

'We've been doing some digging, Jessie and I. You two have been through alot together, havnt you, poor thing.

I'm so glad you called. Me and Jessie want to bring you somewhere you'll never have to be hurt or scared again.'

Y/N was horrified.

She pushed kix away and tried to make a break for the speeder door. But his reflexes were superior to hers.

He caught her around the middle before she could even reach the door handle.

Jesse handed him a needle and Kix brought it to Y/N's neck.

'Shhhhh, shhh, Y/N, it's okay sweet girl. Were not going to hurt you.'

Kix injected her, Y/N's vision going blurry almost immediatly.

The last thing she heard was kix whispering in her ear.

'I'm gonna take good care of you, sweet thing'

[caramelcal]

His Favorite Girl

a/n: HELLO. (sounding like the guy in the cinema cba lol) anyways I have returned for a brief period of time to share this update with you guys. It’s based off of this request here: “ Do you think you could write a Luke x gang again where maybe he has to leave for work during sex and the reader touches herself out of frustration and he comes back and finds her ?” 

STOP BECAUSE THIS IS DEFINITELY NOT WHAT THE REQUESTER WANTED BUT ILL WRITE SOMETHING AGAIN BUT LIKE JUST TH REQUEST IF THATS WHAT YOU GUYS WANT SDGHGDFGBH but this is kinda a part 2 to the Bambi/His Favorite Secret series thingy cause a few people wanted that! thank you guys so much for all the love mwah

i should literally be studying rn but im not so <3 im very sorry for this abomination lol

sorry for the long a/n guys! :( enjoy x 

word count: 3.4k

warnings: smutty stuff (fucking, fingering, anal and all that...ive never written this before so PLS PLS PLS give me feedback omg) uh choking, doesn’t have a daddy kink in this but sir is mentioned. talks of being tied up and being tied up? talks about overstim... he calls her little girl at one point...

“Luke! Stop moving!” She lightly slapped her boyfriend’s hand, to which he groaned in return. Her tongue stuck out slightly from between her lips in concentration, eyebrows furrowing as she returned to the task she had firmly put her mind to. That was, until the blond giant moved again, “Luke!”

“Bambi,” Luke echoed lightly, using his nickname for the smaller girl in front of him who looked up at him with an unimpressed facial expression.

“You’re gonna ruin it,” She mumbled lightly, pointing back down at her artwork which Luke only then first looked at. It was safe to say, although he shouldn’t have been, he was thoroughly shocked.

His nails, which his girl had somehow managed to convince him into painting weren’t black, or blue. No, they were bright, blasting, hot pink. He groaned lightly, wondering just how exactly she had managed to rope him into this and just how he was going to hide his nails from the rest of the gang later on tonight when he -they- met up with them tonight.

She was a bundle of both nerves and excitement, finally getting to meet Luke’s closest friends. It had been about a week since their argument, and now she was meeting his friends. It seemed like everything was moving in the right direction, thankfully. She couldn’t wait to be honest, very much looking forward to being able to hear more about Luke from his friends, and just meeting them in general.

They seemed fun.

Well, as fun as gang members could be. She probably should have been more cautious surrounding them, but Luke got her guard down so quickly and she was yet to regret that. How scary could they possibly be considering the man in front of her, soft blond curls held back by her bunny bath headband, nails painted hot pink, was supposed to be the scariest man in the whole city.

“Cal’s gonna rip the piss outta me for this, Bambi,” He complained softly, with no plans to take the polish off of his nails as he looked at his girlfriend, between his legs, small hand wrapped around the bottle of nail polish with her other hand laying against his knee.

She couldn’t help the small upturn of her lips as she blew softly against the nail polish on his fingernails, not patient enough to let it airdry despite it being a fast-drying polish. She shrugged lightly, head flopping to the side adorably as Luke stared down at her, resisting the urge to run his hands through her hair; another issue he had with the wet paint on his fingernails.

“I think it looks great, we’re matching,” She then flaunted the bright pink color that coated her own nails, and Luke’s lips twitched into a grin, careful not to ‘aww’ at the cute words that came out of the smaller girl’s mouth.

He hummed lightly, leaning back against the couch but his baby blues never leaving her face, “They look a lot better on you than they do me, Bambi.”

“I think they’re cute,” The girl climbed onto his lap, making Luke take a deep intake of breath as she sits barely an inch away from a rather sensitive area of his. She, however, seemed to pay no attention to the risen area of his jeans as she leaned against his chest, face hidden in the crook of his neck, soft breaths from her mouth fanning against his neck.

He twisted to give her a small kiss on the forehead, to which she responds by kissing his neck softly, lips staying against his neck as her hand traveled up his stomach up to his neck, holding him close as she began to kiss the base of his neck more.

“Lu,” She whispered softly, “How much time have we got?”

“Like an hour, baby. Why?”

However, the girl never replied verbally, and instead repositioned herself carefully, Luke’s neck void from her warmth before her hand started to travel down, painfully slow, until it landed right above the tent in his jeans. His eyes traveled up to meet hers, eyebrow raised as she dropped her hand down barely, lips struggling to pull the smirk away.

He lifted his hands to her back, going to reposition her before she shook her head, “Your nail polish, Lu. Hands down.”

His hands didn’t move, frozen in place around her clothed waist. His nails were long since dried, she knew that, but she liked this. She liked the intake of breath he took when her hand ghosted over the hardened cock in his jeans, the way he couldn’t lift his hands; scared to smudge the pink on his nails.

He was restricted. Oh, how the tables had turned.

Her hand gently palmed against his hardened, clothed cock, causing a grumble to emit from his throat. It was a deep rumbling sound, -something that the girl had heard numerous times but would never get used to.

To her, everything about Luke was perfect, even his moans.

“Bambi, you know the rules about teasing-”

Her lips attached to his, cutting him off rather efficiently, pressing softly as she continued to palm him through his jeans, gently rocking on his thigh. He moaned into their kiss, her tongue, as a reflex, finding its way into his mouth. Their tongues pressed against one another, lips still pressed together as her spare hand crawled up to the back of his neck, playing with his soft curls.

Her palm pressed into his fully hardened cock now, his tongue swiping over her lips before tugging on it, pulling apart, breathless. His hands found a place on her waist, guiding her softly but firmly, taking back the control he craved.

Looking her straight in the eyes, one of Luke’s hands went around her neck, thumb pulling her lower lip down as he unbuckled his belt with one hand, taking his cock out of its confined clothing and bringing her hand down to hold onto it. It wasn’t the first time that she had given him a handjob, and it wouldn’t be the last, but she still couldn’t help but be nervous.

Despite not being a virgin when she met Luke, she still lacked a lot of experience that Luke definitely had. She knew that he would never judge her, but that never stopped the nerves that festered.

“All shy all of a sudden, Bambi?” He mocked, hand around her neck tightening as he bit down on her ear lobe, gently tugging at it before letting out a breath, “All big and brave, teasing Sir, aren’t you? If you’re going to start it, then you’re going to finish it. On your knees. Now.”

Releasing a shaky breath, the girl clambered out of Luke’s lap dropping to the floor, in a similar position to the one she had been in minutes before, only in a more sexual manner. Her lips met the tip of his cock, tongue lightly swiping across the base.

His hand grabbed firmly onto the hair on the back of her head, holding her steady as she got used to the feeling of his cock in her mouth before thrusting against her. She gagged as it hit the back of her throat, sending vibrations up him, releasing a deep moan from his throat.

“Suck, little girl,” Luke commanded deeply, leaving no room for argument as the smaller girl abided to his command, tongue swiping over him as she reached up to cover the last part of his cock with her hand.

Yet, she didn’t get much further when a ringing sounded through the room, Luke groaning but ultimately pulling away from the girl who stayed on the floor, watching Luke as he grabbed his phone.

“What?” He gritted his teeth lightly, trying to keep his frustration at bay after being interrupted.

He sighed softly, not looking at the small girl with furrowed eyebrows still on the floor as he pulled his jeans back up, clambering to get shoes on and getting ready to leave, hanging the phone up.

“Luke what’s going on?”

“Gang shit, Bambi. I gotta get going, be ready for six, we’re meeting Cal, Ash, and Mike later, remember?” He offered her no more words, but she can tell he isn’t angry at her, just due to their interruption.

However, she can’t help but be frustrated at the interruption, waiting until after Luke leaves to huff and puff about it before starting to get ready.

. . .

“Luke has this old penguin fan account on Instagram from like seven years ago. There’s this one picture on there with him with a penguin hat-”

“Cal, stop,” Luke interrupted Cal swiftly, an arm going around his smaller girlfriend’s waist who looked far too amused by the embarrassing things about Luke that Cal was telling.

“No, no, Calum please keep going. Please,” The girl begged, feeling very comfortable around the Maori boy. They were pleasant, to her at least, and so far they had made her feel very comfortable and very much at home. It was hard to believe that the people joking with her where infamous mobsters, ones that were feared all across the city, and state. 

They had met in Ashton’s house, who she had already met before, at six o’clock. It turns out gang members like to be punctual, or maybe it was only these ones.

Luke was in a bit of a hurry once he arrived back home, with no time to finish what he and his girl had started before he had to leave in a hurry, leaving her oh so frustrated. This was only magnified when she saw him afterward, ready to head to Ash’s in that pale pink silk button-up that only seemed like it would suit him; like it was made specifically for him.

Maybe it was.

Luke was never shy of customized clothing, cars, or anything he wanted honestly. If you have the money, why not? Was always his answer when she asked why he seemed to wear all of these expensive items. If it wasn’t custom-made, it was a high-quality designer that he wore, she rarely ever found him in anything that didn’t smell of cash and high-class, -far too expensive but albeit intoxicating- cologne.

This money of Luke’s also happened to extend to her also. He was never shy of picking her up a few things, letting her have his card for shopping and now, he started going out shopping with her too. He didn’t look like the type that would go out with his ‘girlfriend’ or anyone, but in the case of her, he followed her around like a lost puppy; willing to hold her bags, let her drain his bank account. Not that she did, anyway. She was still mindful, even if Luke had more money than he knew what to do with.

“Nah, can’t. Don’t want Luke to kill me for embarrassing me in front of his precious little girlfriend,” Calum teased lightly, shaking his head as his eyes darted to meet Luke’s baby blues. Truthfully, Luke could pretend to be annoyed at Cal and the rest for exposing his old penguin Instagram account but he was just glad to see them getting along with the girl that owned his heart.

She was the first girlfriend that his best friends seemed to approve of. He didn’t normally bring his girlfriends to meet them, but the ones he did, the boys he called his best friends didn’t usually like them. For the first time, Luke could actually see a future with the girl in front of him, beamingly smiling as Cal and Michael joke about with her and laughing at their attempts of humor.

God, he loved her.

“So, do you think they like me?” She asked the moment they got home, the door shut behind them. Luke turned around, staring at the wide-eyed girl with a small smile on his lips.

Did she seriously not realize how much they liked her? Especially with how much joking that they had done with her, he was certain that she would have realized but then again, she wasn’t the most self-assured person when it comes to new people. He nodded his head, “Yeah, Bambi. They really liked you.”

Luke would never get over the way her eyes sparkled, his smile only growing. She looked amazing in that red silky dress that he had bought her, and he looked just as good in the coral colored button-up he was wearing.

Their lips met softly, Luke bending down slightly to meet her lips as the girl went up on her tiptoes, bare feet on the top of Luke’s shoes. He didn’t mind, in fact, he barely even realized as he swiped his tongue across her bottom lip for access which she quickly gave him. Her hands wrapped around his neck, one entangling in his blond curls, while his went around her waist and one under her ass, lifting her up.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, lips never breaking away from his as she moaned into the kiss. She pushed herself closer to him as the kiss heated up, eyes closed as Luke tried his best to navigate the way to their bedroom. Thankfully, even with his eyes partially closed and completely distracted by the soft lips on his, he managed to get there, fumbling with the doorknob before kicking the door open.

Luke pulled away quickly to get a breath, now at the edge of the bed as his mouth went to the side of her face, pressing kisses along her neck before whispering in a sinfully sultry voice, “Let’s finish what we started earlier, huh?”

With that, she was placed down on the bed, staring at Luke with a glaze in her eyes, lust, lips slightly swollen as he pushed her dress up, nudging her underwear to the side. His fingers ghosted over her pussy, making her take a ragged intake of breath. He was on top of her, watching her as she awaited every movement of his fingers, completely helpless under his touch.

“So wet for me, baby,” He murmured, pressing a few chaste kisses against the base of her neck as he rubbed her slit. She didn’t reply just yet, whining lightly when he slowed down his movements, coming to a stop, “Tell me what you want baby.”

“You, Lu. I want you, sir,” Her words flooded out of her mouth quickly, the aching between her legs becoming too much. If Luke didn’t do something about it soon then she would have to. She stared up at his smirking face above her. His fingers pulled away from her, making her whine as he reached for his belt, skillfully unbuckling it and letting his cock spring free from its confines.

He looked up at her as he repositioned himself, her squirming with need beneath him before he lined his tip at her entrance, baby blues meeting her eyes, “You sure?”

She nodded vigorously in return, but Luke didn’t move, commanding lightly, “Words, baby.”

“Please Luke, I’m sure. Please fuck me.” He swatted her thigh at the sound of the swear falling from her lips but obliged nonetheless, plunging deep into her letting out a moan, her strangled moan following behind.

He plunged in once again, hitting a spot that made her whimper and moan at the same time, hands reaching around to his back, clawing on the now exposed skin. Luke’s hips are flushed against hers as he goes deep inside of her once again, both moaning.

“Fuck, Bambi,”

Luke’s pace quickened, thrusts becoming sloppier as he continued to thrust into her, hitting her sweet spot over and over, moans filling the room with small pleads from her and soft curses from him.

Then a phone went off. Luke froze inside of her, and she groaned, sweaty, a mess, and incredibly sexually frustrated. She could feel Luke sitting inside of her; how big he was. She thought that he was going to ignore the phone call, to continue something that they were robbed of earlier. He wasn’t really going to let them be interrupted twice today, was he?

He reached over to the bedside table, picking his phone up and looking at the caller ID before sighing. He pulled out of her, baby blues looking at her with a frown, “I need to take this.”

“Luke,” It was a plead. For him to stay with her, to let them finish what they started. She shuffled lightly until she was sitting in front of him, on her knees. Her hand went to the side of his face, caressing it gently as she put her face at his neck, “Stay with me, Sir. I need you.”

He knew exactly what she was trying to do, but he wasn’t going to fall for it. He pulled away from her, gripping onto her side as a warning with his free hand, “No, Bambi.”

His voice was low, a warning for her to stop what she was doing as he sent her a pointed look. He didn’t even let her make another move or get another word in before he was back in his jeans and walking out of the room, leaving her alone.

The seconds that she was alone turned into minutes, and those minutes turned into ten, then fifteen. She shifted uncomfortably, still on edge and incredibly frustrated. It didn’t seem like Luke was coming back as he had left without saying goodbye or telling her where he was going to be or how long. Was this all because she had tried to get him to stay?

Well, if he wasn’t going to get back, she would have to take stuff into her own hands. Leaning back, her hand reached her own clit, rubbing desperately, basking in the feeling once again. This time, she would get the job done.

Her fingers slipped inside of her, curling into her, moans softly filtering out of her lips. She was close, her fingers covered in her own slick as she continued to curl her hands into herself, soft pants falling from her lips as she spread her legs more to get a better angle, trying to go deeper.

Her hands would never be as good as Luke’s though, her small fingers not holding a torch to his digits. He knew everything that made her squirm, even better than she did, he had her all decoded, knew how to navigate her better than anyone else ever could.

“Baby I need to get-” Luke opened the door, stopping when his eyes met her figure on the middle of the bed, fingers inside of her as soft breaths fell from her lips. Her head titled back, eyes lidded as he froze on the spot before a smirk made its way onto his face.

“Really?” He asked incredulously, sauntering up to the bed before grabbing onto her wrist, pulling her fingers out of her desperate cunt making her whine. Her eyes met his, which never strayed, even after he brought her hand up to his mouth and swirling his tongue around her slick-covered digits.

“Lu-”

“Quiet,” He shut her up quickly, voice hard and commanding, something that made nerves bundle in her stomach and turned her on even more. He stood up again, sauntering over to the dresser before pulling a belt from the top of it, grabbing her hands and confining them with the thick leather, “Since you can’t keep your hands off of that pretty little pussy of mine, I guess we’re going to have to do something about that.”

Luke pulled her up to the headboard, hooping the leather around there and tightening it. When he let go, she pulled against the leather restraints, only to find her hands unable to move from their position at the headboard.

“So desperate to cum, baby? Well, you’ll be desperate to stop after I make you come over and over until there’s no more cum left in your body and you're writhing beneath me. Do you understand me, baby?”

“Yes Sir,” She whimpered out in return, nodding her head as she breathed heavily, watching Luke’s hand as it trailed teasingly down her side until it reached her pussy, a finger flicking up and down it, making her hips jerk up.

“But first of all, I need to go deal with the drug run. See you later, Bambi.”

And with a smirk on his face, Luke left his girlfriend there, tied up to the bed, whining for him to come back. And he would, and when he did, she wouldn’t be walking for days afterward.

[siriusmydeer]

Could I get a request with Sirius Black where he and the reader are like best best friends and they both like each other as more and everyone can tell but them. They go to the black lake with like Lily and James and Remus and Marlene and Peter and Sirius pushes her in and she drags him with her and they start making out in the lake? sorry its so specific lol

i thought this was adorable and i had a random surge of motivation so i had to.

her rings

sirius black x fem!reader

summary: sirius wants to go swimming in the black lake, and you want to wait. what happens when he pushes you in without a warning. 

word count: 1.2k

warning: kissing, cheeky sirius, jily, know it all remus, peter? insinuations of drowning? and swimming

“so, dear, we’re going to the black lake at 2. if you’re late, i’ll put burping powder in your food.” sirius says to you, with a chuckle as he runs off.

you stood there confused for a second before looking at your watch, 1:50pm. you laughed, starting at a light jog outside towards the black lake where you saw your friends seated around a tree.

james slouched on the grass, with his muscular arm around the stubborn red-head girl his gaze trained at her lovingly, remus leant against the tree and scarred nose in a book as he spared a glance to his friends as his hazel-eyes flicked back to his worn book, peter and mary were sat opposite to each other in the grass while in an intense game of wizards chess. peters fingers running through his brown tresses aggressively, due to his loss.

you see a tall and muscular figure in the distance, the raven haired boy ran to you and pulled your hand towards the rest of your mates. “finally, we’ve been waiting forever.” he said with a dramatic huff.

“‘m sorry, i was only given an invite on such short notice.” you giggled looking back at sirius, then looking towards your friends again; hands still interlocked with the taller boy.

he gave you a quick eye roll and sat down, pulling your body along with his. you land with a small bounce on the ground, you feel a small weight on your lap. the raven haired boy lay his head in your crossed legs and guiding your dainty fingers through his hair.

the bespectacled boy interrupted your light conversation with a fake-offence tone, “‘m offended, what makes you so special that you can touch padfoots hair, but m’not allowed to.” he said with his far hand reaching his heart and the other gripped at lily’s waist.

“i like the way your rings feel in my hair.” he says nonchalantly, answering the question you had yet to ask. he looked up in the sky and a dusty rose covered your cheeks, you looked in his line of vision trying to find his interest in the clouds above.

“you have your own mangle of red tresses to comb through, plus ‘ve got rings.” you waggle your ring-clad fingers in james direction, and remus let a chuckle pass through his lips.

“‘n what’s that got to do with anything?” he said with an eyebrow raise, knowing the behaviour you and sirius share with each other. along with mutual

confessions to the lycanthrope from you and sirius, his observant behaviour was obvious and he could see the mutual love and affection towards the you and the dark haired male.

“i like the way her rings feel in m’hair, it’s nice.” he looks in his best mates direction then in the direction of the lake. an idea popped in his mind, he hopped up from his laying position in your lap and grabbed your hand for the second time that day.

“we should go swimming in the lake.” he said with delight looking at his mates with excitement. “m’getting to the good part of the book.” remus said, barely listening and paying attention to the words carved into the paper.

“m’not going anywhere before i win.” peter said focused on the game, trying to maneuver his piece to get checkmate. “but we’re in our uniforms, why couldn’t you give us a warning sirius?” lily whined and looked at james. “whatever lilypad wants.” james shrugged and kissed her temple.

sirius looked at you with 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡 𝙥𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙙𝙤𝙜 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨, “oh please y/n, don’t make me go alone!” he whined gripping your arm, staring into your e/c irises. “how about-“ you thought for a moment, “i watch you and, maybe later.” you offered, raising your brows.

he thought for a moment, before “agreeing”.

“alright, fine. but you promise you’ll join me at one point?” he stuck out his pinky with a pouting lip. you gave him a fake-angry huff with a playful eye roll and interlocked your pinkies. after pulling away, he interlocks your ring-clad fingers and quickly brought you over to the docks of the black lake.

“y/n?” sirius said, looking at you with a slight smirk. “hmm?” you said looking into his cerulean eyes. “so you remember the pinkie promise we made?” he asked as if he didn’t offer his pinkie as an unbreakable vow two minutes prior. “i do, it was a very eventful moment.” you said in an amused tone, playing along to what he was about to say. he swung your collided hands together and said,

“the one point you promised into going in the black lake, 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙬.” he pushed you into the lake of water, you’re quick reflexes of a quidditch player we’re put to use as you gripped his arms with all your strength. both of you splashed and collided into the water together and swam to the surface.

“𝙎𝙄𝙍𝙄𝙐𝙎 𝙊𝙍𝙄𝙊𝙉 𝘽𝙇𝘼𝘾𝙆!” you said angrily, punching his shoulder aggressively. “m’shoes are all wet and i’m a bad swimmer! a little warning never hurt anyone.” you grunted and put your arms his neck, the close space between the both of you put a shit-eating grin on the dark haired boy face.

“but i wanted to swim with you, and i’ve got an nice view.” he said, an eyebrow raise and smirk on his face as his eyes directed to your chest. you gasped, slapping his chest and shoved his face away, “mind your eyes black!”

“‘m sorry-“ you cut him off quickly. “you’re definitely not.” you saw right through the boy and smirked. “true. but i wanted you alone, so i wanted to... show you something.” you didn’t catch on to his insinuation and played a joke to him instead. “ahh, it must be the giant squid roaming around waiting to pull you under.” you giggled and looked into his eyes.

“no, no. i want to do something but if you tell me to stop.” he said genuinely. you were confused by his change in demeanour, your heart beat sped up and you nodded looking at him. your arms came on contact with his shoulders again, looking at him with a confused brow.

“okay, so show me.”

he took this as a sign to keep going, he placed his hand on the apple of your cheek. the same colour of rose coloured your cheek again. if you thought this was his way of showing his reciprocated feelings, you were nervous for his next moves. he leaned closer until your plump lips were millimetres away from each-others.

you took initiative and connected your lips to his wet, and slightly chapped lips. he tasted your cherry chapstick, marking it as his new favourite flavour of yours. your fingers made their way into his his above the shoulder tresses, carding his strands between your fingers. his calloused hands made their way to your waist, feeling the damp material of your uniform on his hands.

he went to deepen the kiss, running his tongue across the bottom of your lip. the cheers and whistles in the distance made you pull back, with a flushed complexion. you saw your friends clapping, whistling and smirking in the distance. the smirk on remus’ face was prominent, you grinned at him before turning to the raven haired boy, his tresses wet and dishevelled from your fingers and the water.

“i guess swimming with me isn’t so bad after all.”

“𝗽𝘂𝘀𝗵 𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳𝗳 𝗮 𝗱𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶’𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝗼𝗳𝗳 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽”

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High: The Seven Ep 1

Meet the Maidens

It is back to school baby, both for D20 and, funnily enough, myself as well (something I hope will give me more time to get the recaps out in a timely manner fingers crossed). 

As I’m sure you all know if you’re reading this, this season of D20 takes place in the world of Fantasy High but with a focus on Aguefort’s OTHER most badass adventuring party who we’ve so far only seen on the sidelines, the Seven Maidens! You’ll recall, they’re made up of the seven girls who were captured by Penelope and co. to fulfill the prophecy that would let Kalvaxus rule the world freshman year. And, in fact, we start with a flashback to freshman year so let’s just jump right in.

We find our seven soon-to-be heroines chained in the Red Waste in front of what we know and they will shortly learn in Kalvaxus’ lair--a crucial part of the prophecy that was the subject of season 1. The structure of this episode is sort of like 2 rounds of introductions--first here with the maidens meeting each other for the first time and then again at home with their families a la the first episode of Freshman Year so I’ll be glossing over certain things that we’ll get to later in their second intros.

Anyway, the first two to wake up are Danielle (aka Yelle: half-elf, druid) and Zelda (satyr, barbarian as we know). Zelda is her usual, adorably nervous self in contrast to Yelle who is no less sweet but in a super chill, granola girl, fuck the system kind of way. We actually learn that Penelope had her on board with the plan for a hot second when she thought it was just “overthrow the government” but didn’t know about the “install a just as bad if not worse evil dragon overlord” part. 

Ostentatia (dwarf, cleric) wakes up next and is, as Izzy--her player--describes her “Jersey Trash.”, all blinged up with jewelry that she secretly made herself and didn’t buy. She wakes up pissed and ready to bodyslam Aelwyn which are both extremely valid emotions as much as I love Aelwyn. By the way, all of the girls recognize each other as girls who go to their school but none of them are really friends though they very quickly start throwing the label around because that’s what you do when you wake up chained with 6 other people in front of a dragon’s lair in a place called the Red Waste. 

Katja (half-orc, fighter) wakes up and immediately cares about nothing more than the status of her beloved horse, Cinnamon and declares that if Cinnamon dies, she’ll die. This is a fantasy world so Ostentatia and Danielle are a little concerned that might literally be true via a soul bond or something but it’s more that Katja just really, really loves that horse. Danielle tries to cast a spell to locate the horse but can’t get the somatic components quite right with her hands manacled. 

They all get into a discussion about the fact that everyone for a fact knows they’re all virgins now (you know, the real issue here) and what exactly counts as “virginity” for the purposes of this prophecy (like, does second or third base count or only traditional home runs using the baseball analogy) when Penny wakes up and is, just so excited to be here gang! Penny (halfling, rogue), who is one of the girls who has been kidnapped the longest, is adorably and honestly a bit concerningly exuberant to be surrounded by all these new friends, totally disregarding  the fact that they are clearly in some deep shit. Zelda mentions that Riz, her old babysitee, knows they’re kidnapped and is trying to help and she lights up. 

Next up is Sam (water genasi, sorc/bard) who immediately starts thrashing to get out of her chains and, when she can’t get free, is devastated by the fact that her ex betrayed her (!?) Finally Antiope (human fighter/ranger) wakes up all out of sorts having started her growth spurt while in the crystal and also having needed to pee right before she went in which becomes a problem all over herself (which Sam helpfully cantrips away).

With all of them awake, the stones they’re chained to light up and some of Kalvaxus’ minions (the ones who tied them up) show up to do minion speechifying. Yelle does a horrifying Animorph style morph into a waterbear (a tardigrade if you wanna get all Bio 101) to get out of her bonds but then Sam who has a serious one track mind re: getting out of here (Correct) and has exactly zero patience for these guys casts Tidal Wave and just knocks them off the cliff. Yelle frees Ostentatia who frees everyone else with Animate Object on their chains. Hands free, Yelle also casts Locate Animal and tells a very pleased Katja that Cinnamon is doing a full Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron down the highway searching for her. 

The girls decide to explore the cave which has recently had most of its treasure moved (it’s currently in the gym for the Prompocolypse fight which is currently happening). Penny and Sam (who are in insanely different emotional places) find all these broken mirrors which Sam takes as a cue that they need to GTFO (which is what she was already doing) and Penny thinks would make a great material for friendship bracelet making which she starts doing as Sam physically pulls her away. Sam hears someone doing post-cry sniffles and is like, “Not today Satan,” still trying to leave. However, Penny sees that there is one mirror left and, inside, sees a ethereal looking human with flowing, preternatural, black hair who senses their presence and asks if Penny is someone named Anima. She asks for their names though she declines to give hers (hmm, feels very fae) and the girls give the fake names of Kelly and Cecelia which the figure says she will guard and not misuse. The figure says she is looking for her sisters (who she says when Penny asks are at Aguefort which...hmmmmm) and, all of a sudden, Sam and Penny are having a bad feeling about those mirror shards. 

They ask her a question about the mirror and she gets really aggro when it’s referred to as “her” mirror as she would very much like to be out of it. The woman really wants to get out and says she can give them lots of power if they help. Sam pulls out her compact Mirror of the Past (magic item that does basically what you’d expect--shows you info from something’s past though in a cryptic way usually) to try and get some info on this thing and just barely avoids losing her mind in the process because this thing is ancient. Like eons old. She also learns the woman’s name (or maybe title): The Ending of Things (will be calling her Ending for now).

Yikes!

Right around now the other girls come in and can see at the angle they’re looking at her at the woman in the mirror is Not Really A Person and Antiope points at her and reflexively casts a ranger sense spell to try and clock its weaknesses and stuff but Ending grabs the spell energy like a lasso and tries to drag her into the mirror. She does however find out that she’s stacked with hella resistances (total immunity to necrotic damage and non-maj weapons, resistance to most elemental damage, and more).

Sam briefly considers using Lightning Lure to pull Antiope back before deciding on a much less ouchy Counterspell. Unfortunately, it’s not strong enough and now she’s being pulled in by her spell energy too. Yelle casts Erupting Earth which has some pros and cons.

Pros: Antiope and Sam are saved! Yay!

Cons: The mirror breaks and whatever was in it is fully freed. Not yay!

Shortly after (but not before Penny gives everyone their new friendship bracelets), someone calls into the cave looking for them--it’s Fig’s mom, Sandra-Lynn (with new art)! She’s happy and impressed that everyone is OK (also, Katja and Sam both have little lines that foreshadow their ~parental issues~ for the season--Katja being very moved by the simple act of Sandra-Lynn showing up for them and Sam saying that in her experience moms can be very evil).

As they all leave the cave, they all do checks and get some info:

Ostentatia: The mirror was kinda like a palimpsest (the crystals they were trapped in) and whatever this thing is is ancient and powerful. 

Yelle: Gets the above info and the fact that when the thing left it wasn’t quite a bad vibe, just the vibe that something big and important is at play.

Penny: On an Arcana check she knows that what Danielle did 100% saved Antiope and Sam’s lives from whatever and wherever was on the either side of the mirror but the contact marked them in some way. 

Katja: With History she sees some Primordial writing which is the writing of elementals (one of the things Ending has resistances to which might be relevant; also Sam reads Primordial but doesn’t get to read what it says)

Antiope: She knows that she and Sam are connected to Ending now somehow but it’s a two way connection which means they can also use it to their advantage. 

Ostentatia casts Mending on the mirror shards which I think was to reconstruct the mirror but what it actually does is someone link their friendship bracelets. Cute!

And, with that, we cut to the present a year and a half later (which is Jr or Sr year for everyone). 

We hop from kid to kid as they get ready to head in to school and get glimpses into their homes lives! Let’s do a quick rundown for each girl:

Antiope Jones

We see that Antiope is the youngest of five in what is essentially a military family full of basically every kind of fighter (she says she basically lives in a “Crossfit box”). There’s an 8 year gap between her and her sister Corsica who is the second youngest so her parents are kind of already living like empty nesters. When she comes downstairs she is promptly handed a protein smoothie and told two pieces of info: (1) from Corsica she learns that she overheard at school --where she teaches--that Aguefort needs to talk to her for some reason but she won’t say why which annoys the crap out of Antiope and (2) her parents lined up an internship for her at the Ministry of Adventure. She and her mom verbally spar a bit about them being all up in her life and how stressed she is and how she likes what she has going now with the Seven but her mom wins ofc because she’s a Mom and also a master tactician with a deft hand for loving mom guilt. On the way to school her bros (who include a gunslinger and an eldritch knight cause they run the whole gamut of fighter classes) Facetime her like, “Yikes Ant, heard about what happened with Mom, this is why you don’t fight her lmao.”

Sam Nightingale

This is a heavy one so strap in. 

We check in with Sam who isn’t at her own family’s home but at Penelope’s family home which is off the bat eyebrow raising. It’s an upper middle class house and, on the way down, she has to pass Penelope’s bedroom which is conspicuously empty. Downstairs she’s greeted by Penelope’s human mom Rebecca who she learns is moving out soon because her elf husband is both cheating on her while away in Falinel and starting the divorce process. Sam clearly sees Penelope’s mom as a surrogate mom (for reasons we’ll learn in a second) and goes full ride or die assuring her that her ass is better than the ass of the woman he’s cheating with and offering to help burn his stuff even though drowning is more her specialty (she’s so cool). She also is a little stricken at the thought of Rebecca leaving her in the house alone but Rebecca says she can come with if she wants, she just didn’t want to disrupt her school life.

She also tells Rebecca that her bio-mom called recently which immediately sets Sam off. Through the convo we learn a couple of things:

Sam used to be an actor it seems.

And it seems like she was kicked out of the house after she transitioned or something similar which is why she lives with the Everpetals. 

Now that it’s more “fashionable” to to be trans (her mom’s words, not mine) she wants Sam to talk to her so they can get her back in the game.

Sam is having none of that and tells Rebecca to just delete her mom’s number. Then they have a cathartic session of burning her cheating husband’s shit before Sam leaves in Sebastian--her sentient, seafoam blue, self-driving car with a very hot male voice which I am extremely jealous of. She picks up Zelda on the way to school and they commiserate a little and have a heart to heart about adults and change and how much Zelda wants to body slam Sam’s mom. 

Penny Luckstone 

Penny’s house is a whirlwind of activity and her harried parents get her and her 19 young siblings ready for school (no wonder she’s such a good babysitter). We see where Penny gets her type-A ness from as her mom and dad both have this cheerful but overworked energy of “EVERYTHING IS FINE” like that Good Place sign. Her mom spares a second to tell her that she recently got a letter for The Society of Shadows which is like a super secret rogue college (which her parents assume is legit even though they haven’t heard of it cause they’re Mumple people and also, if you've heard of a rogue school, how good could it really be?) Penny is excited except that it would mean she’d have to move and leave her party. Her mom is like “hey it’s a full ride and there are 20 of you guys so just take that into consideration but it’s ultimately your decision” before she dashes away to get to work because it is always Go Go Go with the Luckstones. She texts Sam for a ride and Sam swings by to grab her. This is not plot relevant but she has a booster seat in the back of Sebastian with her name carved into it and it’s important to me that you know that. 

Katja Cleaver

Next up is Katja who lives in a Richie Rich style mansion and comes from very old money as she is descended from one of the first adventurers in Solace. She is in the barn with Cinnamon and the bugbear farrier they have employed (her name is Gertrude and a farrier is someone who does horseshoes). She eats the same breakfast as Cinnamon (hot dry oats and berries baybee) wo she loves so so dearly. Cinnamon is a magical horse--basically like a Find Steed spell that’s on all the time. She’s modeled the horse in her fave book series--the Babysitter’s Horse of course. Lockwood, the staff’s hobgoblin butler, is also there and they get a fantasy Zoom call from Katja’s dad who is in the middle of the insane 20th level adventurer stuff which he says might make him miss her graduation. She is extremely disappointed but just barely hides it from her dad (who seems to really care despite his not being around). She can’t hide it from the staff or Cinnamon however and Cinnamon offers to give her a ride to school via the scenic route. 

Note: We also learn two sad facts about Katja from the conversation with her dad.

Her mother is Disney Princess dead* and

She wears one half of a friendship necklace and it seems like she’s waiting for someone to give the other half to. It’s implied earlier that the way Penelope got her was by promising to be her best friend. Sad!

*Edit: Well, she’s gone and we’ll leave it at that until next recap. 

Ostentatia Wallace

Ostentatia wakes up and goes downstairs to have a very high energy in both directions interaction with her very fantasy-Italian mom and grandma. Her grandma is concerned her beard isn’t coming in--not knowing she shaves it on purpose which her mom is like, “Listen it’s fine but don’t tell grandma it’ll kill her.” She clocks very quickly that her dad isn’t there and his mithril working tools are gone. Her mom tries to play it off but she knows she’s being lied to and her mom relents. Her dad is at a meeting with the other workers of the shut down mithril factory and negotiations have ceased. It looks like he’s gonna be long term out of work. That explains where her dad is but not why the tools are missing. She decides to go do some investigating on her own and ambushes her dad in his car where, with the inaugural nat 20 of the season, she realizes he pawned his tools to get her 5 revivify diamonds. She's upset by this and he’s upset that she’s, in his eyes, questioning his ability to take care of his family. She’s like, alright, you did a thing for me, I’ll do a thing for you and she casts Animate Object to make his stuff steal itself back in a sequence that involves an animated crowbar using another crowbar which is just wild.

Danielle Barkstock

I’m gonna be real, Danielle’s life is exactly how you assume it is based on Who She Is As A Person so this one will be real short. Eco-friendly off the grid geodesic yurt. One super chill peace and love elf sorc mom and one rough and tough human ranger mom. She also knows and helps the Cubbies with their anarchist machinations because yeah, duh. She gets some messages from school on her crystal--one being a message from the principal saying that she and the rest of her party have first period off to meet with him and the other being a newsletter from the school showing, among other things, a photo of the Druid class doing a project but she’s not in it for some reason. She texts one of the other druids to see if she can figure out why she wasn’t invited but fully gets left on read. Brutal. Of course, she hasn’t messaged that person in 6-8 months so maybe that’s why.

Anyway, with that, all seven of our maidens make it to school and are all exuberant to see each other in a very teen girl way before getting to the principal’s office and learning that their party will be broken up at the year! 

Bad!

Superlatives 

I wanted to do something a little different for these recaps than the Bad Kid ones so instead of Honor Roll/Detention we are doing Superlatives and the inaugural one goes to...

Sam: Most Like To Survive a Horror Movie

Man she woke up chained in a ritual magic circle and she was Ready To Go Immediately. You will not catch this girl doing horror movie victim BS like exploring the spooky house or giving the creepy obvious ghost the time of day. She is hyper-competent and her goal is making it out alive and dragging her friends with her. Love her.  

Random Thoughts

The season immediately starts with a bang or I should say a bing with Izzy trying to say “bling bang” and accidentally saying, “bling bing” and immediately getting roasted by everyone. I love the authentic girl group vibes (which include everyone clowning on her then immediately hyping up Zelda to the max after being way more awkward). 

Handshake meme with Danielle and Moonshine from Naddpod. Also, Cinnamon and Horse from Centaurworld. 

I love that Rekha and Erika just straight up were like, “Our characters are Asian”. Like obviously, make your characters Asian coded in your fantasy world--all my D&D characters are black like me--but it’s funny that they completely disregarded the, “There’s no Asia in this world so I guess they’re this world’s equivalent to--” Nah just, “I’m a half-elf and I’m Asian.” You love to see it. 

I absolutely LOVE the choices the cast made to flesh out their characters based on the little info Brennan had about them, none moreso than rich horse girl Katja. Rekha is a genius. 

“I only want one thing and he’s working” KATJAAAAAAA

Man if I was in that flashback I would have been wilding out so much with my flashback plot armor. 

I appreciate that the first thing that Aabria has Antiope do is extremely uncool. I love it when players aren’t concerned about just being cool and on point all the time. Sometimes (read: often) that’s the less interesting choice. 

But on the exact opposite side, she’s a ranger and an arcane archer which I think is extremely cool. Lmao also I didn’t mention in the recap but she HATES dragons now which, understandable. I’m guessing they're her favored enemy. 

I can’t wait to see another group of kids interact w/ madman Aguefort. 

Also, as a known Aelwyn-stan, I am very excited for the possibility of the Seven interacting with her cause as much as I love her they are under no obligation to acknowledge her redemption arc and I would love to see them throw hands. 

I love the Greek myth naming scheme of Antiope’s extremely cool family as with her on the spot nickname “L-Cab” short for long caboose since she’s the youngest by a mile. 

Also this is out of character not in character but Sephie is an extremely cool nickname for Persephone. 

I wonder why Brennan didn’t let Sam read the Primordial in the cave. He just glossed right past her saying that she speaks it and she didn’t push it. Would it have solved his entire plot in the span of a flashback or was he just keeping things moving?

Sidenote, if I was married to an elf man and worried about aging like Rebecca, I would simply become a druid (or a monk or up my wizard levels so I could learn True Polymorph or Wish or something). 

I wonder what the deal with Ending is. She seemed relatively sincere in the mirror but that doesn’t mean anything. She could be sincere and also Very Bad News. 

There is an offhand comment by Brennan about how the dwarf forge god gives spells but doesn’t talk to his followers which I think means that Ostentatia is gonna be getting a direct god call soon enough. 

Also she mentions that her dad is doing some criminal activity on the side which seems like a Problem for later. Honestly all of the kids have some pretty rich parent drama happening which should be interesting to see explored. 

No nat 1s this ep and 1 nat 20 as I mention from Ostentatia. 

[loversandantiheroes]

Hotel Hobbies - Part 2

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x f!Reader Author’s Note: This was not going to be a multi-chapter thing, but then people liked it and Whiskey wouldn’t shut the hell up so here we are, folks.  I no longer know where this is going so strap the fuck in I guess.  This is so long and I am so sorry. Edited for a cleanup 10/5/2020 Summary:  A co-worker gives the Reader a little nudge, which backfires just a bit when Whiskey runs unexpectedly late. Warnings: Public sex, exhibitionism, angry sex, mild choking/breath play, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, dirty talk, rough sex, spitting, spanking, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (do as I say not as I fictionalize), creampies, come eating, vague allusions to Whiskey’s job and all the dangers contained therein, Whiskey is a service top and I do not take criticism, very brief mention of Whiskey’s past, exactly one (1) use of Spanish that I hope I didn’t fuck up too badly. Rating: Explicit / NSFW / 18+ / How much clearer can I make this? Word Count: 12k+ (oh GOD do not look at me I have no idea what happened) Previous: Prelude / Part 1 / Interlude Taglist: @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @oloreaa @the-feckless-wonder @sarcasmisakindofmagic

The conference drags on into its fourth day in a parade of excessively bored people in suits and pencil skirts toting stale danishes and overpriced coffee; the only comforts provided to distract you from the mobius circle-jerk of tedious corporate bullshit. Most of the assembly hall does little more than nod blandly as yet another guest speaker goes through their presentation, the topic of which you forget at least six times throughout the course of it. Half of the attendees aren't even bothering to take notes anymore. The company could've filled the room with potted plants in cheap suits and gotten a better result.  At least the plants would provide a little oxygen to the atmosphere.

It certainly doesn't help your case that half of your brain is circling endlessly around Whiskey. You scribble down a set of shorthand bullet points in your notes and try to blink away the image of his arms straining against taut ropes.  You sip your coffee and remember the heat of his tongue chasing the taste of his namesake in your mouth. When you cross your legs and feel the deep, pleasant twinge between them, for a split second all you can think about is the way he felt sinking down into you with his teeth against your neck.

The time absolutely crawls by. There's moments when you half expect to look up at the old analog clock on the wall and see the hands start running backward. Of course this would be the day the presentations run long, wouldn't it?  Restless and fidgety, you eventually give up on your notes completely and just resign your attention to the clock and whatever obscenity your brain wants to conjure up from the night before.

Claudia, one of your only work friends that actually opted to attend this fiasco, gives you increasingly amused looks throughout the morning, glancing up at you over her phone (on which, you can't help but notice, she has been playing Bejeweled for the past hour with the brightness turned down). After you check the clock for the fifth time in twenty minutes, unable to really keep yourself from sighing angrily through your nose, she shakes her head at you, laughing quietly.

"So what's his name?" she whispers, leaning over conspiratorially.

You give her a glare, but she only raises her eyebrows expectantly. Goddamn it, why does the entire universe find it so funny when you're irritated?

"Whiskey," you mutter back, glowering.

She has to clamp a hand over her mouth to stop a snorting giggle from being loud enough to cause a disruption. "Oh my god," she sputters. "Are you fucking a biker?"

And okay, maybe that is a little funny. You shake your head, mutter back, "Cowboy."

Claudia grins so wide her shoulders pull up with it. "Save a horse," she whispers, trying to dodge out of the way when you elbow her to cut off the rest of the joke. Three people behind you simultaneously shush the two of you, and you toss a dirty look over your shoulder, settling back into your seat.

A few seconds go by before Claudia's leaning back over to quietly add, "The dick must be good to get you this distracted."

"Shut up," you shoot back, but you're already smiling.

When the presentation ends, the entire auditorium raising up on creaking knees to shuffle out to break for lunch, Claudia's hand clamps down on your arm.

"I'm buying lunch and you're going to tell me everything."

So you do.  Parked in her conservative little hybrid over styrofoam boxes of take out, you tell her. Damn near everything, too. She listens with rapt attention, this not being the first time she's poked you for details of your love life, such as it is, but judging by the look on her face it's possibly taken the top spot as the most memorable.

"So you're gonna see him again," she says finally as you tell her about Whiskey's invitation before slipping out the door this morning.

You settle back, trying to make yourself look suitably apathetic before answering in the hopes of not being completely transparent. "I dunno. Maybe."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh please. You're gonna see him again. You've been spaced out with dickbrain all day, there's no way you're turning down that invitation."

You wave the end of your plastic fork threateningly. "I will stab you, I swear."

"Not with this many witnesses," she says with a wave at the horde of pedestrians outside on the sidewalk, blatantly ignoring the shanking motions you make in warning.  

When she doesn't drop that annoying, knowing look, you start jabbing at your food, rolling a piece of cucumber around the styrofoam. "I mean...ok yeah I thought about it."

"All morning," Claudia provides.

"Fuck you," you counter lightly, and resist the urge to fling the chunk of cucumber at her. "I just...I don't know. I don't think it's a good idea."

"Oh my god, why not?" she cries, head thrown back in exasperation.

"Well it's not exactly fucking sensible, is it?"

"Honey if you were worried about being sensible you wouldn't have fucked a cowboy you picked up at a hotel bar," she says with a shake of her head.

"Did you miss the part where he tried to convince me he was James fucking Bond?  I mean c'mon Claudia.  That's gotta be...I dunno, some kinda red flag."

She scoffs, flapping a dismissive hand. "Oh please, when the bullshit's that obvious I don't even think it counts. It’s not like you bought it anyway.  Besides, honesty is the backbone of a solid relationship, if you're just poking fun it's more like a bonus.  As long as he's not married and not a serial killer, who gives a shit?  You’re overthinking the shit outta this, hon.”

That’s...well that’s not wrong.  It’s honestly irritating how not wrong that is.

When you don’t give a response save for the idle sounds of plastic scratching on your takeout box, Claudia groans. “God are you really gonna make me talk you into getting yourself laid? Okay, if you wanna be rational about it, fine, here's some rational thought for you." She pops out her thumb, ticking off digits as she lists. "He's hot. He likes to eat pussy. He's a fuckin' sub, which - holy shit, girl. Holy actual fucking shit. Plus he's packing and he actually knows what to do with it.  Oh, and he bought you fuckin' breakfast!" She wiggles her fingers as she thrusts her hands out towards you. "Seven outta ten, babe! My god, if you don't fuck him I'll do it for you just so I don't have to eat another shitty continental breakfast."

You laugh, but there's a hot flush creeping up your face, and you have to stare out the window for a minute until it starts to wind back. It's almost successful, until you think of Whiskey again. This time, though, all you think of is him outlined in the door, looking back at you with his face too shaded to see.  And then your cheeks flare hot again, not with that lingering sense of want, but with a flighty kind of panic.

And just like that you pin it down, your stomach twisting on itself as you finally put words to that moment of apprehension.  Whiskey doesn't scare you.  His lines don't scare you.  The way he fucks you doesn't even scare you.  But that moment that he lingered does. It scares you because you think maybe what was going through his head is the same thing that's been going through yours, a fine little thread looped around every remembered pleasure: the worry that you're about to develop a taste for something that you'll never have the chance to get again.  

Maybe it's better to leave it.  To chalk it up as a fluke and not risk finding out that he'd feel just as good the second time as he did the first.  Cut it off now before that lingering taste turns into a full-blown craving.

Claudia sighs, closing her takeaway box.  "Look, hon.  I'm not trying to tell you what to do. It just sounds to me like you're overthinking this. You don't need to be fucking sensible all the goddamn time. So what if you're thinking with your pussy right now? You had fun. He was fun. You have the option to have more fun. You are entitled to have some fun. So, hey: fuck sensibility and have some fucking fun."

You nod. It's reflex at first, but slowly becomes more deliberate. More sure.  "Okay. Yeah. You're probably right."

"I am always right, thank-you-very-much," she corrects, and then promptly shrieks as you launch a slice of cucumber into her hair.

                                                           ⁂

The trick of it all, you remind yourself that evening as you cross the hotel lobby for the elevator, is not to think about it.  Because if you think about it, really think about it, you will find a way to talk yourself out it. Sensibility is as much of a hindrance as a help at times.  But you've decided now: the absolute last thing you want to be tonight is sensible. You've been bored out of your mind all week, and as much as you're loathe to admit it, Whiskey has been the only bright spot in the whole affair.  At least he's given you something to look forward to, even if it is just the prospect of getting railed until you forget your own name.  

You take the time to change when you make it to your room.  Grab yourself a short, but blisteringly hot shower, and conveniently forget your panties when you redress.  Eventually you make your way down to the bar with your heart almost strangling you with the way it's seemingly lodged itself in your throat.   Whiskey's nowhere to be seen, which isn't a complete surprise.  He always seemed to turn up a little late in the evening before.  Not wanting to deviate too far from your own habits, if only to make yourself a little easier to spot, you take your familiar place at the far end where you've been set up for so many nights in a row. You order your drink, make friends with the closest basket of pretzels, and you wait.

And wait...and wait.

Your eyes are half on the clock and half on the door, flicking back to that last at every sign of movement.  Despite the fact that you're practically nursing your drink, the bartender refills your glass twice over the course of the night. When he offers a third, you shake your head.  Your face feels like it's burning. The bartender nods and wanders away, either oblivious to the growing anger on your face or determined not to end up the recipient of it.

It's nearly midnight when you finally push yourself off the bar stool, throwing down enough bills to cover your tab and storming off.  He stood you up.  You cannot fucking believe it.  What's worse is you feel like you should believe it.  Should've expected it.  As if a man that strutted around like a preening rooster and fed you a bullshit James Bond story would have a streak of honesty.

You punch the elevator button hard enough to make your hand tingle, pushing your way through the doors as they open and hitting the button for your floor. The walls of the elevator are mirrored, and you duck your head, not wanting to know what your face looks like just now, twisted up in anger and more than a little shame. The doors hang for a moment before sliding closed.  At the last possible second a hand darts in, stopping them. Broad. Tanned. Tattooed. The man of the hour leans through the doors as they retreat, and gives you a grin.

"Room for one more?"

Your stomach does a back flip, blood rushing in so many directions you're not sure if you've got enough left to power a response. If this little scenario had played out even half an hour earlier, you might've laughed. Might've fallen back into that easy bitchy banter the two of you seemed so good at. Might've even kissed him. But not now.  Now you've built up too much steam, and every little ounce of anger – earned or not – that you'd had percolating for this man since you first laid eyes on him bursts out of your mouth in two words, laced with as much venom as you can muster.

"Fuck you."

You can practically hear the record scratch in his head.  The smile falls, eyebrows ratchet up so high you can't see them for the brim of his hat.  It's satisfying in an awful sort of way.  Like scratching an itch hard enough to draw blood.  Too late to take it back now, though.  You lash out at the elevator panel, punching the button marked CLOSE DOORS, and Whiskey side-steps neatly inside.

"All right," he says slowly.  "That is not exactly the reaction I was hoping for."

"Yeah, well tough shit, cowboy," you all but spit, raking a hand through your hair. You keep your eyes down.  Forward.  Anywhere but on him.  It's hard, too many reflections.  Even the distorted shape of his  silhouette in the door makes your blood boil.

"I know I'm late," he starts, hands raised, and the low and placating tone of his voice hits you like lighter fluid on a match.

"You don't fucking say?"

His hands drop. "Can I at least explain myself?"

Laughing too loud and too sharp, you shrug, shoulders pulling up hard.  "Yeah, sure, why not? Let me guess, rough day at Spy HQ? Assassination appointment run over? Or were you just hiding behind the fucking dieffenbachia to see how long I'd stick around before I came to my fucking senses?" 

The shrill sound of your own voice almost makes you wince.  You're overreacting. It's not like you're unaware of it. But you're pissed off, and worse now, you've committed to being pissed off. Backing down now is damn near impossible, never mind actually apologizing.

Whiskey takes a step forward, his eyes gone all puppy dog again; wide and imploring under twisted brows. "Look, I don't blame you for thinkin' the worst. I know I left you waitin', and I apologize for that -"

You roll your eyes, mouth twisting into a smile that shows too much teeth to be kind. "Christ, y'know what, don't flatter yourself.  I like that bar.  The pretzels are nice and they don't water down the liquor.  I didn't show up for you."

"Oh horseshit," he snaps. He doesn't raise his voice, but there is a whip crack of impatience in it. "If you didn't want to see me tonight you wouldn't have turned up at all. You and I both know that."

Fuming, you jam your hand into your purse, fishing out his flask and tossing it at him hard enough that it hits him square in the chest. He catches it on the rebound.

"Here. You forgot this."

Whiskey turns it over in his hands, thumping the metal against his palm. "Right.  I see," he says slowly, slipping the flask into his pocket. Under that thick drawl, there's a twinge of something that might be disappointment. "Just came to do the decent thing and return a man's property."

"Yes." Part of you sinks, screaming in frustration.  But it's like you're a spectator now, just watching yourself sabotage the only thing that'd brought you a shred of joy all week just because your pride and temper won't allow any other option.

One hand falls to his hip, the other rubs idly across his mouth. He's scowling now, quite spectacularly at that, and for a second you think you've finally dealt enough of a blow to his pride to piss him off. Then he steps in close, jaw set. The way his eyes travel up and down you sends a flush through your body, and you're not sure if you want to slap him hard enough to knock the mustache off his face or kiss him until his lips bleed. His gaze lingers at your hip, your curves quite plainly displayed under the tight skirt. He reaches out. The back of his fingernails barely brush the fabric.

"Do you always make returns without any panties on?"

You try to swallow, but find your mouth has gone suddenly bone dry, your throat sticking with a sharp and painful click.  "Fuck off," you try to tell him, but it comes out a croak.

"You know what I think?" Whiskey continues, and the tone would nearly be conversational if it weren't for the way he's looking at you, eyes perfectly black and hungry under the shade of his hat.  "I don't think you're just mad because I'm late.  I think you're mad because I can get a rise outta you. Part of you kinda likes it. Enough to wanna come back for a little more of it. And you don't know what to do about that.  Bet you can't even decide if you wanna throttle me or ride me 'til you can't come anymore. Bit of both, maybe, huh?"

Oh fuck you very much, Mister Perceptive.  "Christ, you and your fucking ego-"

"Oh to hell with my fucking ego, and yours too." He leans in close enough that you can smell aftershave and a fainter, acrid smell that, if you weren't so fucking preoccupied, you might recognize as spent gunpowder. "If you want me to go, just fuckin' say it. But don't bullshit a bullshitter.  If you wanted rid of me that bad you would've tossed me out on my ass last night before I'd even finished coming."

Your jaw works, and you push yourself a little harder against the handrail just to keep from slapping him. How dare he-

How dare he what, exactly? Be right?  Again?

You clench your jaw, gripping the handrail on the wall tight enough that the corners dig into your fingers. Glare at him like you're trying to light him on fire. He doesn't flinch.

"What you did last night...that made for a hell of a first impression," he says slowly, and the low rasp of his voice almost curls your toes.  "One I don't expect I'm liable to forget this side of fuckin' doomsday. Shit, I don't even know your fucking name and I ain't been able to shake the thought of you all damn day.  Now you can believe that or not, and I wouldn't blame you if you didn't.  But the only thing I'm asking from you right now is to be fucking straight with me.  If you want me to go, you fucking tell me, and I'm gone.  But if you want me to stay, honeybee I swear I will make up for every second you had to wait."

"Fuck you, Whiskey," you breathe.  It's all you've got left, all you can even think to say, but it's too soft. It's too hard not to believe him when he's looking at you like that.  Even if he's still got your teeth on edge, ready to bite, the fire in your belly is sinking lower every second. And there's no way to mistake the low rasp of your voice for anger.

He leans in, hovering barely an inch away from you, and tips your chin up with his knuckle. "That ain't an answer, honeybee."

His lip curls into a smirk and for a second all you can think about is running your tongue out to follow the curve of it.

"You can punish me if you like," he offers in a low, darkly sweet voice. The fingers on your chin trace a path along your jaw, up to your ear, and down the side of your neck as he talks; a three-point constellation drawn in goosebumps. "Lord knows I deserve it. Tie me up again. Ride my tongue until you've had your fill and never lay a finger on me.  I don't mind a bit.  I'll probably come in my fucking jeans like a goddamn high school virgin while you do it, too."

Oh god. It's too hot. It's too hot and he's too close and it feels like there's no air left.  Those words took the last of it and left you with nothing. And then your lungs finally unlock, hitching in air so pitifully loud that for a second his eyes drop first to your mouth and then lower to watch the buttons strain on your blouse.

His tongue brushes up against the back of his bottom lip, a strange gesture, but one you can't drag your eyes away from.  And the bastard just keeps talking.  

"Then again, maybe the way you've been acting up you'd be more inclined for a little punishment yourself. I could take you upstairs. Turn you over my knee and put my hand to that pretty little ass until it blushes like a ripe summer peach. I'd bet you'd drip just as much and twice as sweet, too. I'd kill for a taste of you right now. Fuck, if you really want I could just hike that skirt up and fuck you right here and now.  I am a flexible man and I am willing to take you any way you'd see fit to let me. But only if you let me.  I ain't here to play bullshit games, and I will not take anything you don't want to give.  So I need you to tell me, honeybee.  Do you want this? Yes or no?"

Everything inside you burns and twists.  Fuck, you want that.  All of that.  And all you have to do to get it is unstick your stubborn, too-sharp tongue and admit that you want it. That even without the excuse of three shots of tequila on top of a few too many cocktails, you still want it.

You're burning up.  There's sweat on your palms.  It squeaks as you twist your hands over the railing.  He hasn't just turned the tables on you, he's flipped the whole fucking room and cornered you with it. And God help you, it's infuriating how much you like it.

"Hate you. So much."

"Hm." His hand falls away, and you miss the touch instantly. "So you keep sayin'. Decision time, honeybee. You pick or I'm picking for you and we're both gonna be disappointed in that result."

There is a long long beat where that threat hangs between you.  Any hope that he might just push forward and take you anyway – push you into the wall and fuck you ragged right here and now without another word – bleeds away as you stare him down, your wordless challenge going unanswered. His gaze is iron; hard and unyielding, and you know if you wait even one more second, this...whatever the hell this is, will be over. Permanently.

Swallowing the last of your pride like so much cheap liquor, you seize the front of his shirt, dragging him forward even as he starts to back away.

"Yes. Fucking goddamn it.  Yes, I want this."

"Yeah?" He leans in, nose brushing your cheek.  Somehow it's that little gesture that sets off a bomb's worth of butterflies in your stomach.

"Yes."

The heat of his hand is almost shocking as it glides up your thigh and underneath your skirt, his thumb stroking up and finding only bare skin. Whiskey grins. "Knew it."

You choke back a sigh.  "Smug bastard."

"Yes ma'am."  His thumb brushes up and down your slit idly, slow and considering.  He glances around, quirks an eyebrow, and offers: "Here?"

Following his glance, you spot the hunk of plastic mounted in the top corner of the elevator.  "Camera. Fuck."

"Sure enough," he drawls, still grinning.  "You want to give the boys 'n' girls in the security booth a show, or d'you want to go someplace a little more sensible?"

Sensible. God, If he'd chosen any other word, you might've agreed. Private. Safe. Anything but fucking sensible.  

"Fuck sensibility. Fuck security, too. Just shut up and fuck me."

He laughs through your kiss, the touch of his lips too gentle by miles.  The last thing you want right now is gentle. You don't fucking deserve gentleness after all that.  And so you rake your teeth across his bottom lip, roll your tongue against his. When you nip at his tongue, Whiskey breaks off, cupping your sex with a warm, calloused hand.

"You're gonna eat me alive, honeybee," he growls.  He parts you with a thick finger, drawing the pad of it from your entrance to your clit and back again. "Mm, I have been thinkin' about this all day," he murmurs before his finger sinks into you.

Sighing, you curl your arms around his neck, knocking his hat off to run your fingers through his hair and muss up that razor-clean side part. His hand works unhurried between your legs.  You rock against it, listening to the obscene smacking sound as he works you open.

"All that fuss and you're wet for me already, darlin'," Whiskey says wonderingly.

All you can do is groan, chasing the sensation of the heel of his hand pressing against your clit.  "Shut up and kiss me."

You tug at his hair, try to urge him forward, but he doesn't budge.  He sinks down to his knees instead, right hand never leaving the wet heat of your cunt.

"I'll kiss you, baby," he says, pushing up your skirt and lifting your right leg over his shoulder.  "Don't you worry."

And he kisses you: a warm, wet slide of lips and tongue where he's got you spread. Gasping, you grab the back of his head. He looks up at you, only the crinkles at the corner of his eyes proof of his smile, and his eyes slip closed like a man savoring his favorite meal.

"Jesus." The word comes out in a squeak as his mouth works on you, your throat tightening in an effort to keep quiet.  A second finger joins the first and you whimper, tightening reflexively against the stretch.  Christ those fingers are thick. Shuddering, you work your fingers in his hair and pull him closer, your eyes wandering up to the reflection in the far wall.  The view is mesmerizing: your back arched, skirt hiked up to your waist, with Whiskey's head buried in between your legs like a man trying to slake an ungodly thirst. The view on the left is even better.  From there you can watch his mouth work against you, catching a glimpse of his tongue, wet and shining as it slips between your folds. He sways forward on his knees like a charmed snake, a growing bulge straining against the dark blue denim of his jeans.

There's a gentle ding, and for a moment you're so scrambled you think maybe your phone's going off.  And then the elevator doors slide open. An older looking gent with a battered briefcase stands frozen on the other side, eyes wide as dinner plates as he takes in the same view you've been admiring in the mirrored walls of the elevator.  

For a single spaced-out second the only thing you can think is, Going down?, which makes you erupt into a fit of breathless, senseless giggles.

The newcomer's mouth hangs, flapping uselessly over words he can't quite formulate.  He might be trying to apologize for the intrusion or insist you repent and turn to Jesus.  You don't know and you don't care.

Whiskey looks up at him over the line of your thigh, lips glistening.  "Get the next one," he snarls, and punches the CLOSE DOORS button.

He plants a rough, sucking kiss at the top of your cleft as the doors close again, utterly unperturbed.  "Penthouse, darlin', if you please."

Oh he would be in the fucking penthouse, wouldn't he?  Panting, you fumble a hand out trying to find the button just as Whiskey slides in a third finger and you cry out, almost swiping every button in the center row by accident.

The elevator hums to life and begins to move.  The red light on the security camera flashes benignly and you stare at it for a long beat while Whiskey gets right back to work, moaning hungrily between your legs.  Someone's watching this.  The thought excites you more than it should, adding fuel to the already roaring fire Whiskey is so eagerly stoking with his tongue.  You roll your hips, swearing roundly.  It's not enough.  It's fucking glorious, but it's not enough.  You know what you need.

"Fuck me," you gasp.  "Goddamn it, Whiskey, gimme your cock."

He glances up at you through thick lashes, eyebrows raised.  "Is that what you want, honeybee?" he asks.

You bear down on his fingers hard as if to answer and he clenches right back, thumb and pinky giving him leverage against your pubic bone as he grips you tight, fingers stroking along your walls. It's only by virtue of the handrail and the support of his shoulder that you don't sink straight to the floor.  Christ that backfired.

You nod fervently, head spinning.

A roll of his shoulder unseats your leg, and he stands.  His left hand wraps around your throat, thumb against your jawline, and that's so fucking perfect you can't stop yourself from whimpering. In a flare of desperation you grasp his wrist, urging him to grip your neck just a little tighter. Chuckling, he brushes his lips against yours – soft and strangely tender – while he fucks you steadily with his fingers.

"Shoulda known you'd like that.  Well?  Cat got your tongue?  Come on, darlin', lemme hear it."

"Yes."

"Louder. Tell me you want me to fuck you."

"Oh god-d-d-damn it!"

He chuckles darkly, fingers coaxing inside you.  "You can do it, honeybee.  I know you want it. I just need hear you say it."

You bare your teeth.  "I want you to fuck me."

"Good girl."  He grins down at you, wide and wolfish.  "Now: ask me nicely."

Oh he would, wouldn't he?

"B-bastard," you snarl, then begin to laugh.

"Oh come on now," he croons, eyes darting between your lips and your own heavy-lidded stare. "I'm sure you can get along without your pride for an hour or two. It ain't so bad.  And I promise I'll make it worth your while. C'mon."

You groan, grit your teeth, and hiss out: "Please."

He crooks his fingers and you gasp like you've been burned.  "'Please' what?"

"Please fuck me.  Please fuck me."

He slots your trembling thigh between his legs, pressing the clothed, solid length of his cock against you.  "With this?  Hm?"

"Fuck, yes."  You writhe, feel it twitch, and he rolls against you in response.  

"Come for me first, honeybee.  Then I'll fill you up good and proper. Cross my heart."

His fingers press into you harder, spreading gently as he draws them back. Your legs begin to shake so badly that he has to pin you to the wall to hold you up.  The rail digs into your back.  You'll bruise tomorrow, but you're not sure you've ever cared less in your life.  

"You gonna come, for me?" he asks, rutting a little more enthusiastically against you when he feels you begin to tense and flutter around his fingers.

Squeezing your eyes shut tight, you nod, feeling the drag of his lips on your cheek.  

"Uh-uh. Talk to me, darlin', I wanna hear it. I want you to tell me every single time you're gonna come, you understand me? Count them out.  Let's see just how many you got in you tonight."

"Oh you ass!"  You moan and laugh all in the same breath.  

"You like it," he says simply.  

He kisses you, warm and deep, and you bite his lip for the audacity.  "Don't stop.  Fuck, I'm close."

He turns your head, slides his hand around to cup the back of your neck. "Open your eyes, honeybee.  Watch yourself."

You try.  Everything's a blur; inside and out.  Fuzzy and disconnected and hot. Blinking to clear the fog, you can see your reflection caught between the wall and Whiskey's body. Your eyes are dazed, unfocused. His cheek is against yours, a look of utterly indecent hunger on his face, lips red and swollen where you've bitten him. He's pressed up against you too tightly to get a good view, but you can see his arm pinned between your bodies, and the flex of muscles working underneath his jacket.

There is, you note with a fuzzy sort of disconnect, a small, ragged hole in the arm of his jacket.

But before you can put any more thought to this discovery he presses his thumb down against your clit – no friction, only a firm, rolling pressure – and that's all you need. If it wasn't for the his body against yours, you'd buckle.  As it is, trapped between him and the wall, all you can do is quake and cry out, arms tightening around his shoulders as you come.

He hums indulgently, kissing your cheek.  "Count it out."

Panting, you pull hard on his hair until he groans.  "One."

"Good girl," he murmurs.  Slowly his hand withdraws, giving one last slow swirl over your folds before he sucks you greedily off his fingers.

There's the muffled sound of a zipper and you could almost laugh – finally! But then the elevator slows and stops, doors sliding open with a soft ding.  Whiskey glances sidelong at the open door, corner of his mouth pulling up in a half-cocked grin.  The disappointed whine you give as you hear him zip himself right back up is wholly involuntary.

"Well wouldn't you know it," he says, pulling away from you and stooping for his hat. It's all you can do not to whack him on the back of the head – or on the ass – as he turns away, wiggling your skirt back down over your hips instead.

He gives a ridiculous wink towards the security camera with his hat held to his chest. Your stomach gives a neat little flip as you look up at that blinking red light – god, you'd forgotten it was even there.  

"Sorry to blue-ball ya and run, fellas." He gets an arm around your waist, tugging you into the hall at an easy, languid pace, as if nothing had happened. As if your legs weren't still quivering, with the evidence of your orgasm running in sticky trails down the inside of your thighs.

"Betcha money, marbles, or chalk they'll be jerkin' off over that for weeks," he says jovially, pulling you to his hip when he feels you start to wobble. "C'mon. Let me get you in a bed before I say to hell with it all and fuck you out here on the goddamn floor."

Your knees tremble again; at least one part of you has full support of that particular idea. As the door opens you pull him back to your mouth, kissing him hard even as he steers you by the hips through the suite.  You barely see any of it. Recessed halogen lights.  The sparkle of painstakingly cleaned glass and marble.  Little else. A grunt escapes you as you fetch up hard against the wall and Whiskey crashes into you.  The sudden pressure against his groin leaves him winded, rocking forward against you with a shuddering groan.

"Tell me how you want it," he says, words mangled against your mouth. The salt-musk taste of you still clings to his tongue, sharp against some faint remnant of sweet mint.

One hand slips down, squeezing your breast through the material of your blouse.  The room spins giddily like a tilt-a-whirl, still riding the coattails of your last orgasm. "Hard," you breathe.  The skirt you chose is too fucking tight, and you have to reach down to drag it back up your thigh just to hook a leg around him.  "Don't you dare be gentle."

He chuckles as you press into him. "How hard is hard? I can be a little rough if you let me off the leash."

Frustrated, you slip your hands under his sports coat, nails biting into his shoulders through his dress shirt.  "Fuck, do I have to spell it out for you?"

"Yeah," he says, and his voice has reached that breathy, sonorous pitch that sends a hot-cold shiver rocketing down your spine.  "Yeah you do.  A little honesty would be appreciated tonight."

One good shove and his jacket slips to the floor.  "That's funny coming from Double-O-Cowpoke."

"Not my fault you don't believe me."  It's pitched like a joke, light and breezy, but there's something in his eyes.  Sharp and peculiar and gone almost before you can be sure it was really there, but makes your stomach clench with a sudden surety that the next words out of his mouth are completely genuine.  "I ain't lied to you yet, honeybee."

And that almost brings you to a halt.  Your hands splay out on his shoulders, pushing back to look at him more clearly.  If that's true. If that's true...oh god, why would he have told you?

The question is halfway to your lips before he surges his way forward again, his mouth crashing into yours and kissing you hard and urgent and bruising. A faint sound of protest rises in your throat and you push back a little, not wanting him to stop but wanting him to wait because...because....

And the rest of that thought flutters away. He doesn't stop kissing you.  He just doesn't stop.  And he's moaning as his tongue licks into your mouth and his teeth scrape over your lips like it's the most decadent thing in the world.  You grasp at his face, wrists caging in his neck, feeling his pulse race along next to your at such a frantic speed it's almost alarming.  Your last little shred of rational thought all but begs you to push him back a little harder, to make him look at you and ask him what's wrong...and then it just flutters away because God this is what you want.  This.  This, this, this.

"You want it hard?" he rasps into your mouth, rutting up against you hard enough to drive you back into the wall.

Breathless, you nod.  Work your fingers through the mess you've made of his hair. "Ruined you last night, didn't I?"  You tighten your grip, use your knuckles for leverage and pull.

Whiskey groans, slipping his hands under the bunched hem of your skirt to grip your ass and grind you down against him.  "Goddamn right you did, honeybee."

"So ruin me back."  The thick denim that covers his fly is rough, but you rub against it all the same, shuddering at the coarseness against your tender skin.  "Fair is fair.  Right?"

His eyes slip closed and he buries his face against your neck for a moment, breathing unsteady.  "Jesus, girl, you're gonna soak straight through my jeans," he mutters. "All right, honeybee.  All right.  I only got one rule.  If I do anything you don't want, you tell me. 'Cause I ain't stopping unless you do. Not tonight. Got it?"

"Whiskey-"

He gets a grip on your chin, levels your eyes on his.  "You tell me 'no' or you tell me 'stop.'  Got it?"

"Yes." Patience exhausted, you wrench his belt open. "Now come on."

Buttons patter to the floor as he tears open your blouse.  And that's good. That's fair. And what's even better is the rough way he puts his hands on you, yanking your bra down to knead and squeeze your bare breasts.  When you finally free his cock there's only a brief moment to savor the warm, solid length in your grip before his fingers clamp down on your nipples.  The sensation is so sharp and bright and sudden that you yelp, arching up on your tip-toes.

"Hands off, honeybee," he warns.

Whimpering, you flatten your hands against the wall.

"Too much?" he asks softly, that funny little furrow deepening between his eyebrows.

A groaning laugh slips out of you, and you arch your back, pushing your breasts against his hands.  "Not enough."

"Fuck, ain't you just the sweetest, dirtiest thing." He twists and you cry out, hips bucking forward.  His cock drags against your hip and you chase it, trying to pin it between you.

"Oh, c'mon.  You promised," you whine.

"Oh I'm gonna keep my promise, baby, don't you fret. I want you just as fucked-out as you had me. Wanna see you so goddamn cock dumb your eyes roll back. Bet you've been thinking about this all day, too, haven't you?"

The wall warms under your hands as you fight not to push back more.  And maybe that's what does it.  A little mental-short circuit.  Because God knows you haven't been able to think of a single fucking thing other than this.  But the denial is on your lips so fast it must be involuntary, a reflexive need to find his buttons and push: "You wish."  

Whiskey raises an eyebrow, lip curling.  For a second he's amused, seeing the game you want to play. And then it's like a switch flips. Suddenly this isn't the man who'd begged for the privilege of fucking you last night. This isn't even the man who'd put his grateful mouth to your cunt in the elevator. This is the man he'd pretended to be right up until you got his hands tied. The cowboy get up wasn't the costume – this is. This smile. This infuriating swagger.  

"Oh, really?" he says, and for the first time you realize just how much that drawl had begun to soften around you, because now that dial's ramped right back up to 11.  "You turn up tonight without any goddamn panties on, ride my fingers like a coin-op pony, beggin' to get fucked all the while, and then you try and tell me you ain't been thinkin' about me?  I felt how hard you came. How fucking wet you were."  His hand darts between your legs as quick a snake-strike, fingers carding through your folds. "Are.  Ain't no face left to save, darlin'."

He's in your space, radiating heat, his fingers stroking against your swollen sex, stoking your own fire all over again. But the fire those words kindle burns a little quicker and a little hotter. Without a second thought you strike out, palm tingling as it finds its target against his cheek.

For a moment Whiskey doesn't even seem to breathe. He just stands there leaning heavy against you with his eyes closed and his nostrils flaring. Redness blooms against his cheek.  When his eyes open again, the way they bore into you, glittering and eager takes your own breath away.

He hums, that low, pleased sound.  But now it slips lower and lower into a breathy rumble that lances straight through you.  "Do it again."

Swallowing hard, you slap him again.  Harder this time.  For a moment the only reaction he gives is the way his cock bobs sharply, slapping against your thigh.

Then he growls, seizing the back of your neck and crushing you to him.  You crane up, half expecting a kiss, but his thumb snags the corner of your mouth.  He drags it open until your jaw hangs, tilting your head back.  A choked sound that's a little too plaintive to be a protest slips from your open mouth a second before Whiskey spits into it.

"Swallow."

You do, sucking hard on his thumb for good measure.

"You nasty little thing," Whiskey says, his voice slow and dark as molasses. His eyes glaze over a little as he works the ball of his thumb against your tongue, watching the way your lips purse around it. "Maybe you are the one that needs the punishin'."

He leans against you, breathing hard as he considers this thought. You frown a little, catching his thumb with your teeth, hoping he'll get the hint and give you something better to put in your mouth. But then his grip loosens, one hand disappearing behind you. Hints, it appears, are completely off the table tonight.

"In," he growls, throwing open the bedroom door. "Now."

Whiskey leads you inside, hitting the lights with his elbow.  The room is furnished in that same drab but sparkling minimal style, an impressively large bed swallowing up the majority of the space.  One wall is nothing but windows behind drawn shades, a sliding door leading out to a small, isolated balcony.

He steers you directly to the bed, sitting on the edge and pulling you across his lap to straddle his knee.  You let out an indignant little yelp at the treatment, but then he shifts his leg under you and the indignance crumbles. It presses against your mound just right, urging you open, and you grind down with a gasp, trying to find a little relief.

Whiskey tuts.  "Oh now look at that. Try to tell me you ain't been thinkin' about takin' my dick and then rub on me like a goddamn cat in heat."  

There's the sound of a zipper – not his this time, but your own – and then a little tickle at your hip as he undoes the skirt and wrestles it down your legs. He pushes your blouse up, bunching the material up around your shoulder blades.  For a second you think he means to pull it off, but then he twists the fabric around his hand.  The garment draws up tight, leaving your arms, still in the sleeves, pinned to your sides.  

You moan a little when you feel his hand slide across your ass. He bends over you, and you feel the wet heat of his mouth against your ass cheek.  A sweet, languid swirl of his tongue before he bites down.  You jerk hard enough that your clit drags against the rough weave of his jeans and you cry out, the sound muted by the bedspread.

The pressure of his knee aches beautifully against your cunt, your breathing so shallow and quick it makes you lightheaded.  You know what's coming, and you know what you asked for.  The last thing you wanted was to be sensible.  And this – well this might be the least sensible thing you've ever done.  

You buck your hips up sharply. Searching for his hand.  "Do it."

The first strikes are quick and brisk.  They tingle, warming your skin, but don't hurt. Not yet.  This is just a tease of the real thing.  A warm up. The tips of his fingers trace the first reddening outline of his hand against your skin, a match for the not-yet faded print against his cheek.  Crooning, he kneads your buttocks, spreading them apart, making the slick folds of your pussy slide against each other.

"Sweet Jesus will you look at that.  Open that up, baby.  Lemme see just how fuckin' wet that gorgeous little pussy is."

You gasp, grinding down again, and then first real slap lands across your ass, unexpected and jarring.  The sting is enough to make your eyes water, but the impact drives you forward, almost encouraging your hips to grind into him.  A second strike lands on the other cheek, then back to the first, alternating each time.  You rock with it, caught between the hot stinging slap of skin on skin and the building heat between your legs.

"This what you wanted?"  Crack.

"Fuck!"

"Is it?" he demands.  His hand descends again.  Crack.

"Yes!" You kick out, struggling not because you want to, but because you have to. And it only makes it worse. Or better, or – God, you don't even know now. It's more. It's just more. His knee digs in harder and your poor neglected cunt throbs with a misplaced ache and you swear you have never needed to feel yourself filled up more than you do right now.

"You gonna behave?" Crack. "You gonna stop lyin' to me now?"  CRACK.

"Yes!" The word leaves you in a shuddering sob, thighs clamping down around Whiskey's leg.  One more, God help you, one more and you'll tip over, you'll come all over his knee, you're so close.

And then he stops, rubbing and kneading the hot flushed skin, and you whine in desperate frustration as your orgasm begins to retreat.

"Goddamn. Prettier than a Georgia peach," Whiskey says thickly. His hand strays, slips down between your cheeks and presses against the splayed lips of your pussy. You writhe under the sudden attention, feeling the tips of his fingers slide around your clit. "And damned if you don't drip twice as sweet."

"Please." Warmth trickles from the corner of your eyes, blooming against the bedspread.

The swirl of his hand is lazy, almost soothing but for the way it keeps you so frighteningly close to the edge. "Truth first, honeybee. C'mon. You know what I wanna hear."

"Ye-yes," you mutter.  "Goddamn it yes.  I've been thinking about fucking you all day.  All goddamned day...God, Jesus, fuck, and then you didn't show. Thought you'd ditched me.  Made me want - want it and then ditch me."

You bury your face in the quilt. It's a fucking cop out and you know it. You don't just want it.  You want him.  Fuck, what is happening?

Again you feel his mouth against your ass cheek, open and wet, but this time his tongue is almost cool by comparison. "There now. I didn't ditch you, baby. Wouldn't fuckin' dream of it."  His voice is low now, placating, nearly apologetic. And then his fingers are slipping inside you again, stroking and curling. "I'm right here here, baby. Right here. Just a little late, is all."

You whine, trying to wriggle back to drive him in deeper. Those thick fingers are like fucking magic but you need more than they can provide. Desperate now, you clutch your fingers back towards him, find his shirttail and tug at it. "Jack. Please."

It doesn't even register to you that you've called him by his name – God, you didn't even think you remembered his name – until the fingers inside you still. If it wasn't for the hammering of your heart in your ears you might've heard his breath catch.

Slowly he twists his fingers inside you, pressing down until you shudder. "What is it, honeybee?" he mutters. The hoarseness in his voice is familiar. You wish you could see his face. "Tell me what you want."

"Please fuck me.  Please.  I waited all fucking night."

He rolls you off his lap, leaving you dangling half off the bed and folds over you, cock nestled against the heat of your reddened ass. There's a sticky slide to it; you're not the only one that's wet.

"Hand to God, baby, I'll make it worth every minute. On my fuckin' life." The pained edge in his voice sets the room spinning, and for one mad moment you find yourself trying to grab onto the bedspread to keep from rolling away. Whiskey leaves a kiss against the back of your neck before he draws back, the hand fisted in your shirt tugging you along just a bit.

There's a long, wavering moment when his touch leaves you entirely and you almost protest before you hear him frantically shedding his clothes behind you. Then his hands return, his left winding back into your shirt, his right warm and strong against your back. The blunt, weeping head of his cock nudges between the swollen lips of your pussy. He stays there for an infuriatingly long moment, enough that you cry out your frustration into the bedclothes.  

And then he finally makes good on his promise.

You go up on your toes, legs straining as he breaches you. After all the hours you spent thinking about it, all the hours you waited, it's bliss. But the pure, unadulterated stretch of it laces that bliss with a white-hot line of fire that only serves to make it all the more urgent. Maybe it's the angle, bent in half with your ass up and your legs closed. Maybe it's just how overwrought you are already. Maybe...fuck, you don't know, maybe somehow he's even harder than the night before.  All you do know is that he feels so big you can't hardly stand it. It's so much, bridging the gap between pleasure and pain until it's just an overwhelming sense of pressure and fullness that has you clenching and fluttering around him. As if your body can't make up its mind if it wants to expel the intrusion or welcome it deeper.

He has no right to feel this good. None. But goddamn it you're so glad he does.

"Fuck," he mutters shakily, fingers biting into your hip. "This what you wanted, honeybee? Huh? This what you been waiting for?"

You can't find the air to give him an answer.  Whiskey's still moving forward, you're not even sure how. Christ how much more of him is there? He leans forward, pushing you into the mattress, pushing down into you until you start to shake, until he hits that buried junction inside you that sends a flare of heat rocketing clear down to your toes and your stalled orgasm rears up again so sudden and so close that it's startling.

Every muscle in your body tenses, straining. The whine that breaks out of your gaping mouth is pitiful. "Shit, oh shit, Jesus fuck, Jesus fuck-fuck-fuck-"

He feels it. He must. There's no way he can't. "Oh fuck, that's it honeybee," he croons, working his free hand under you to circle your clit as he sinks that last broad inch into you. "Come on. Come all fuckin' over me."

For a second everything shorts out, all senses lost in a white-out. The only tenuous connection you have to your body lies in the grounding pressure of his cock inside you and the faint but rapid fluttering of his pulse in it. And then you're slamming back to yourself with a ragged cry, blood roaring in your ears and coming so hard that you nearly buck off of him entirely. Your arms flex, bend, bunched cloth digging deeply into your skin until you feel rather than hear the seams rip. And then the tightness is gone, Whiskey's hand unwinding immediately from your shirt to stroke up and down your back.

There's a lump in your throat when you finally find enough air to speak: "T-t-two."

Whiskey groans. "Beautiful.  Fuck, you shake so pretty when you come for me. I could watch you do that all night. Might just, at that."  He drags the torn wreck of your blouse off you, popping the clasp on your bra and bending to place an open, humid kiss in the valley along your spine.

He rocks forward and back, one hand clamped into soft flesh at your hip, humming tunelessly. "Been wantin' to bury myself back in this sweet pussy from the minute I woke up.  Ain't been able to think of nothin' else. Just this," he says, drawing back slowly before burying himself to the hilt and rolling his hips against you.

You clamp your teeth down on your lip, fighting the haze. It's hard to swallow. Hard to breathe. But he's rolling into you slow, far too fucking slow.  And that isn't what you need. You try to push yourself up on your elbows, but he thrusts forward, a little more force in it this time, and your arms give out.  

"Ha-harder," you pant, voice thick and muffled by the quilt. You turn your head, claw the hair out of your face. "F-fuck me harder, god-d-d-damn it. Make me fuckin' feel it tomorrow. Big-dicked b-bastard, oh my God, don't you stop."

He breathes out a laugh, folding over your back. The pressure against your tender ass stings like hell, and you hitch in a hissing gasp as Whiskey's mouth finds your cheek. He kisses you, or does his best to. The angle is strange and your face is half-smashed against the bed, but his mouth slants over the side of yours, tongue dragging against your lips until you open for him, letting him lick against the sharp points of your teeth.  

"Careful what you wish for, honeybee," he whispers, grinding forward in a maddening circle. "Words like that will get you in a whole mess of trouble."

The air leaves you in a whooping rush as he stands, dragging you up against his chest, your back bowing to try and keep the searing length of him pressed where you need it. And then – ah god – his hand is around your throat and his teeth are sinking into your shoulder, and you're suddenly glad he can't see the way your eyes flutter and roll back.  

Not that he even needs to see it, because just then Whiskey groans into your skin as a rush of wetness courses down his cock.

"Fuck, is it that good, baby? Hm?" His voice quavers as his body impacts yours like a sledgehammer. "My dick finding all the sweet spots in that pretty little pussy for you?"

You grapple at him, find where he clings to you and grip his hands, inadvertently encouraging him to press his hand just a little harder against your throat. And there goes the room again, looping and floating as he starts to move, really move, driving forward harder and harder. You stumble, going up on your toes, some choked and desperate noise caught in your throat somewhere under his hand. Sparks pop behind your eyes, faint and wavering like fireworks reflected on choppy waters. And then the pressure eases, air rushing into your lungs once again. The fire in your belly flares up at it like a backdraft.  

"M-more," you grate out. "Oh f-fucking God please more.  D-don't...d-d-don't-"

"Don't you worry, baby.  Ain't gonna stop," he mutters harshly against your ear.  "I'll give you all you want. Ain't stopping 'til you tell me to stop."

You shake your head, or at least try to, the movement restricted by his hand. "N-no. Never. Fuck, never-never stop. Right there f-fuck-"

Whiskey growls out something low and broken and unintelligible as you clamp down on him, your body chasing that bright, blazing heat whether you want it to or not.

"Oh fuck, are you comin' again for me already, angel? Shit, you are, aren't you? Got yourself all riled up today and now you just can't stop. C'mon then, baby. Come on my dick. You feel like fuckin' heaven when you come. Pussy's so good it oughtta be fuckin' blasphemy. C'mon, honeybee, do it for me, come like you fuckin' mean it-"

Before you can breathe a word it hits you and it hits you hard, muscles seizing up so tight it's like they're trying to wring the pleasure out of you. You ride through maybe three or four near-blinding shocks of it and then your knees, traitorous things, finally give out underneath you. The only thing that keeps you up is Whiskey's arms wrapped tight around you, clutching you to him, suspending you on his dick as it grinds up brutally against your g-spot.

"Got you, honeybee," he grunts, rhythm never faltering. "I got you.  Keep comin' for me, baby, keep comin'."

And god help you, you are. You're still quivering, still coming, and then his hand falls away from your neck to cup against your sex, palm flat against the rigid little knot of your clit. He doesn't even rub, it's just a heat and a pressure and it's like your whole body stutters upward, launching towards a second, higher peak. Whiskey lets out a broken groan against your neck as you bear down on him so hard it nearly hurts and you wail at the unexpected, overwhelming force of it.

Everything spins off and away in the aftermath, senses blown out like a bad circuit. Sounds are swallowed up in a high, persistent ringing. You haven't got the strength to force your eyes back open. There's a shift and a feeling of soft cloth beneath you and when the haze starts to lift you find you're on your knees on the bed, shoulders down and ass up with Whiskey draped over your back. He murmurs things against your cheek, your ear, your neck.  You can't hear a word of it over the ringing in your ears.

You turn your head, knocking your forehead against his by accident. "Thr- I- f-four?"  Your voice jumps in your throat, but you can't quite make it steadier. "I...I don't-"

"Honeybee," he drawls, his cock giving a hard, desperate twitch inside you. He grins at you indulgently, gathering your hair up in one broad hand and pulling. "Good girl."

A shudder goes through you as you realize he's still fucking you. Deep, swift strokes that send tingles sparking through you. He drags his cock out of you and drives it back in, pulling it over your blazingly sensitive nerve endings like a bow over violin strings. Like it's a privilege to do it. Like it'd be a fucking crime to stop.

He drags two more orgasms out of you like this. Shuddering, slow-building things that overtake you like flood waters, rising up with an aching, consuming crawl unmindful of the pounding pace Whiskey holds to like a clockwork battering ram. It's only when you gasp out a broken cry of "S-sih-s-six!" that Whiskey's hips finally begin to falter, stuttering and slowing at the feeling of your overworked pussy milking his cock again. His grip on you tightens as he tries to steady himself, tries to hold on, groaning his own restrained pleasure through gritted teeth.

"Tight - fuck!  Goddamn it girl you get so fucking tight when you come. So fuckin' wet. Sweet Jesus. I don't know how m-much more of that I can fuckin' take."

"God, fuck, do it, just do it," you whine, reaching back for him with hands that can't stop shaking. "C'mon Jack."

He laughs at that, but it's a little frayed and frantic at the edges. He brushes the hair out of your face, working his fingers into it and giving it a tug. "I – ungh! Oh s-shit – I got... your p-permission this time, honeybee?"

You hum, nodding, and hitch in a breath as he grinds in particularly deep. "Please."

His rhythm falters again, hips canting suddenly at a hard angle. "W-where? Fuck, fuck, where do you want me, baby? Hurry."

"In-inside. Inside me. 'S what you wanted last night?  Right?"

Whiskey makes a broken sound, lurching against you. "Y-yeah. Oh shit, yes. Jesus fucking Christ, honeybee."

Growling, he flips you over and slides in deep, pushing your knees up almost to your shoulders and staring raptly down at your face even as his own contorts. The length of him inside you stiffens even more, pushing in so deep his hipbones grind painfully against your own.

And then he breaks with a cry, his whole body locking up with the force of his climax.  His head drops between your breasts and his back arches high, fists punching deep divots into the mattress on either side of you. He rocks through it, jerking at every pulse and spasm, and you can't help but shiver at the warmth that pools inside you as he comes.

"Fuck, fuck. Nngh, ho-holy shit." He almost says more, but another tremor wracks his body and it chokes off into a broken mess of Spanish - "¿Que chingas me estás haciendo a mi mujer?"

Winded and boneless, you scratch your nails weakly across his scalp, working your fingers down his neck to his shoulders.  "Better be a compliment."

"You have no idea," he pants open-mouthed against your skin.  Instead of elaborating he just eases himself out of you and crawls his way down, trailing his mouth over your skin until he's settled between your legs, staring at whatever disaster he's made of you and groaning softly in appreciation.

Take a picture, you almost say, it'll last longer. But before you can work up the air and energy to put breath to the quip he's drawing his tongue against you, cleaning up the mess he's made with a desperate, greedy reverence that sets your knees trembling on either side of his head.

Whimpering, you clamp your lower lip in your teeth, shuddering up against the warm heat of Whiskey's mouth.  "Careful," you warn.  "Oh, G-God, careful."

The only answer you get is a low moan and the feeling of his fingers sinking diligently back into your cunt, coaxing out the trickling remnants of his orgasm.

A high, lazy heat begins to build again, over-sensitivity easing back into something warm and sweet and giddily aching.  Your hands cradle the back of Whiskey's head, carding through his sweat-soaked hair as he licks his own come out of you. It's not a thing you've ever really given much thought before – bodily fluids were always more an incidental part of sex for you than anything else – and you're not sure if he's enjoying the act itself or just the strange submissive edge of it.  Curiosity gets the better of you and you glance down at him, expecting to see him staring intently up at you over the rise of your mons, gloating over the state he's put you in.  Fuck, he's made you come so many times you're sure he'll never let you forget it.

Only he isn't.  His eyes are closed, face lax with a blissful intoxication as he tastes himself inside you, holding your thighs up and apart to let him work his tongue and fingers in deeper.  The sight of him so clearly lost in the moment, not goading or gloating, just rapturously gone is maybe the single most erotic thing you've seen in your whole life. And that sweet, lazy heat suddenly licks up to a blaze.

The sudden clench you give is impossible to miss from Whiskey's vantage point, and he groans against you.  "One more, honeybee," he almost pleads, breaking away from you with a sucking pop just long enough to gasp air.  "You can gimme one more, can't you? I know you can. C'mon baby. Lucky seven."

He lowers his head once more with a decadent hum and you throw yours back as he sets to more deliberate work, hooking his arms around your thighs to keep you right where he wants you.  

"God, you greedy b-bastard," you rasp out.  The stimulation to your worn nerves leaves you quaking, wriggling underneath him.  You're not sure you can stand another one, but a deep, hungry part of you is desperate to find out.  

He growls at that, more in agreement than in offense, and when your hands scrabble at his he parries them without even glancing up, seizing your wrists and yanking you down even tighter against his mouth.

You nearly kick him in the ribs when you come.  It's not your fault. Honestly it's his for working you up to this point.  To this high, nervous overload that's barely left you any control over your body.  It doesn't seem to faze him, though.  Your heel glances off his side as your shaking legs lock around his back and he just keeps going, like he hasn't even noticed, like he isn't even here.  Like the world has spun down smaller and smaller and the only thing left is his mouth and your cunt and leaving that would mean the end of everything.

But it's too much.  Goddamn it, it's too much.

You sob, wrench your hands out of his grip and push at his head. "S-s-seven.  Sev-seven.  F-f-fuck, Jack.  No more, n-no more, please, stop, I can't, I can't– "

He's pulling away before you even finish, pressing one last biting kiss against your thigh before crawling shakily over you to put his mouth to yours with a surprising gentleness. The taste on his lips is heady, musky and sharp. His arms tremble at the strain of keeping himself from slumping over on top of you, gasping raggedly between each kiss like they’re just as necessary as air.

For the longest time you can’t even move, you’re far too wrung out and exhausted to even try.  All you can do is lie underneath him and do your best to remember how to breathe between slow, lazy kisses.  Eventually you work up enough breath to speak. "'M sorry," you whisper hoarsely.

Whiskey shakes his head, trying to focus his eyes.  "What for?"

"'Two minutes and a cigarette.'" You bring up a hand, patting his cheek with an awkward bonk. "I stand corrected"

A look of comical confusion takes over his face, brows knitting together, until he finally remembers the jab you'd made after you'd tied him up the night before. "Shit," is all he says before he dissolves into giddy laughter.  His arms finally give out on him and he rolls to keep from toppling onto you.  

You roll with him, tucking your head into his shoulder and giggling. It aches. The muscles in your abdomen so overworked that even laughing hurts, but somehow that just makes it funnier.

You’ve nearly composed yourselves when Whiskey tries to prop himself up on an elbow that immediately slides out from under him and almost smacks you in the head, and that just sets you both off all over again.  Giving up entirely, you just lay there, shoulder-to-shoulder, laughing like a couple of punch-drunk loons.

"You hungry, honeybee?” Whiskey asks breathlessly when he’s got himself back under some semblance of control. “I could eat a goddamn horse."

Now that he mentions it you realize just how long ago lunch was, and your appetite, which had so far taken a backseat to both your temper and libido, roars back to life. "God yeah, actually.  'M fuckin' starving."

So for the second time today, you get room service on Whiskey's dime. Or his employer’s dime, he insists.  You're not sure if that's better or worse.  It's a little ridiculous.  Even more so when you think to look for a clock and realize just how late it is, but you're absolutely famished and the second he's on the phone asking in a pleasantly fuck-drunk voice for a couple hamburgers and french fries you're stomach's growling so insistently you're almost certain the staff on the other end of the line heard it.

He's chuckling as he hangs up the phone, draping over you to nuzzle into your neck.  For the first time you notice just how much his mustache tickles, and you squirm under him, giggling all over again.

"Love me a woman with an appetite," he mumbles, nipping playfully at you.

"God, what the fuck are we doing?" you stutter out through your giggles.  It's not meant to be a real question. You’re practically a space cadet right now, and you can’t remember the last time you were this giddy after sex. But Whiskey shifts a little, pulling back to look down at you, and you can't quite parse the look on his face. "Never had a one-night-stand like this before.”

"Hm." He drops his head a bit, tapping an idle finger against your collarbone. "Think the repeat offense kinda cancels out the one-night-stand idea, honeybee."

"You didn't strike me as the repeating kind."

"Mm. Didn't strike you as the kind who could hold his dick up for longer'n a minute, either.  So I'll try not to take offense at your continued misjudgment of my character."  His eyes wander away from yours, pulling up his well-worn crooked smile with some degree of effort. "But if you're looking for a polite way to tell this old man you've had your fill, there ain't no need to beat around the bush about it."

You might've appreciated the easy out once.  After tonight, though, you're almost offended at it. You're not in the habit of begging for things you only have a mind to dispose of. A little of that flighty panic starts to take hold, and you tamp it down. Fun. This is just for fun. Even if you do want a little more. Fuck, don’t start overthinking it now.

"Is that what you want?" you ask, and it's only the curiosity in your voice that keeps it from sharpening into an accusation.

Whiskey shakes his head, a bit of incredulity in his eyes. "What I want...shit, what I want is to get me somethin' nice an' artery-clogging to eat and then get some fuckin' sleep. Preferably next to the woman who has fucked me ragged two nights running, if she happens to be amenable to that kind of thing. That's as far as my wants go right this second."

The deflection is so clumsy it’s almost funny. “Chickenshit,” you mutter.

Whiskey blinks down at you, shocked for a moment before you give him a teasing smile. “Fuckin’ comedian,” Whiskey says, snorting laughter.  “Ain’t no softening that tongue of yours, is there?”

“You never know.” You shift a little, heart hammering as you consider your next words. "How much longer are you going to be here?"

The crooked smile slips, becoming softer.  "Well.  That sorta depends on you, honeybee.  My work's all wrapped up.  But if you're gonna be around a bit longer and are lookin' for a bit of company I might be convinced to stay a bit longer."

You feel the smile creep up on your face before you can stop it.  "I wouldn’t mind a little continued reprieve from corporate hell. Under one condition," you insist, waving a finger at him.

Schooling his face into a parody of gravitas, he nods expectantly. Proceed.

"I need to know something first.  Some things. Plural."

He cocks an eyebrow.  "How many is plural?"

You consider for a second, squinting.  "Three."

"All right," he says, resting his chin against your shoulder.  "Fire away."

You pop out your thumb.  "Are you a serial killer?"

He stares at you for a long, silent beat before his eyes slip closed and he shakes his head, his chest hitching with stifled laughter. "No, honeybee, I am not now nor have I ever been a serial killer."

You nod, grinning. "Okay, one down.” You pop out your pointer finger. “Are you married?"

The levity bleeds out of his face with a swiftness that makes you regret the question instantly, sure he's about to drop a bombshell directly on your head that's going to leave you hating him and yourself.  But he shakes his head, holds up his ringless left hand as if in proof, as though nobody having an affair would've ever thought to slip a ring off beforehand.  But then, very quietly, he adds: "Was. But not for a long time."

You nod dumbly, mutter, "Okay.”

For a second you wonder if you should apologize – you’ve clearly tripped on something raw by accident – but then he's poking you in the ribs and drawing in a sharp breath.  "And number three?"

A little grateful, you pop out your middle finger ask your last question: "What do you do?  What do you really do?"

The corner of his mouth gives a twitch.  "Shit, is that all?  Well.  Officially, I'm a businessman.  I own a sizable amount of shares in the Statesman distillery company. Which, incidentally, is where that fine stock of bourbon whiskey came from," he adds.

You lean back, eyeing him carefully.  You don't think he's lying.  And yet....

Your fingers find the catch of a scar against his ribs.  "You're scarred to shit for a liquor tycoon, cowboy."

The twitch turns into a grin.  "I have been known to get a little rough-and-tumble once in a while."

"I don't know if I believe that story any more than I did the James Bond bullshit."

Whiskey huffs a laugh.  His jeans are in a puddle at the end of the bed and he drags them up, pulling out a thick leather wallet out of the back pocket.  From one of the compartments he pulls a business card embossed in gold and black and hands it to you.  

Jack "Whiskey" Daniels, Statesman Distillery, Kentucky.

You blink at it, giggling a little.  "Jesus Christ that is actually your name?"

"More or less.  Been Anglicized for flavor, among other things."

"What was it before?"

There's an odd sharpness in his eyes when he looks at you, a shrewdness you'd never have expected from the costume cowboy you'd met down in the bar.  For a moment you're sure that not only is he not going to answer, but that you've overstepped a line you weren't even aware existed.

"That's four questions," he says, "not three."

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," you add with a tilt of your head.

The corner of his mouth curls slightly, and the sharpness fades.  "Well now, how can I resist that a bargain like that?" He pauses a moment, as if reconsidering, then adds: "It was Joaquin."

"Joaquin?"

"Mm." He nods. There's only a moment of quiet before he tilts his hips to the side, jostling you. "C'mon, darlin. A deal's a deal."

You roll your eyes, staring up at the ceiling. And you tell him your name.  He repeats it back, and you don't need to see his face to know he's smiling.

"Pleasure to meet you," he says.  "Literally."

"Jackass."

[nadisabug]

Anything You Want

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x reader

Warnings: reader is kinda depressed, idk she convinces herself that no one (Kei) could like her, so warning for that, no spoilers though, ooc Tsukki, I am so sorry this was a one am fever dream im sor-

Summary: As old childhood friends of Yamaguchi and Tsukishima, it doesn’t make sense why Tsukishima and you fight so much.

A/N: Ahh I’m so sorry I woke up out of a cold sweat to write this whole thing in one sitting at one am im just 💛love💙 him!! Also!!! I hit 150 followers!! So excited!!! I love you all so much!! Thank you!!!!! (ps requests are open pls send some in)

Haikyuu!! Masterlist

"Kiss me Kei!"

"What? Tch, no that's gross."

"But I'm the mommy!"

"So?"

"You're the daddy! You gotta!"

"I don't even wanna play this dumb game."

"It's not dumb! Pleeaaasseee Kei-chan! For me?"

"Fine, come here."

The slap of the ball hitting the gym floor startled me out of my daydream. My eyes snapped up quickly to the game before me. Did we score? It took me a minute to even register what was going on and who I was looking at. I looked to the referee on his stepladder, waiting for him to call the point.

The whistle blew. He raised his arm. Boys in black and orange jerseys shouted. I clapped and cheered.

It all felt so robotic. But then I looked at him. Then the world shifted into slow motion and began to flow more naturally.

He raised his arm to wipe the sweat off of his brow, the movement mesmerizing. Even the jerk of his body when a teammate patted him on the back seemed graceful. Elegant. He pushed his glasses up a bit and glared at the offender. He turned to say-

"Y/n?" Once again I was startled from my thoughts. My head snapped to the right side where Yachi was standing next to me. She had a concerned look on her face. I swallowed, my dry mouth only producing a lump in my throat. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," I responded quickly and looked back to the game. "Just focusing is all." This time I fought not to look at the boy. I didn't want to look at him anyway. I didn't. I didn't.

Finding my eyes drifting back to him, I launched into conversation to pull my mind from him.

"How's the girls team going?"

I was on the girls volleyball team as a first year. I only made the team because I was the only libero and, being honest, I was the best at receiving. I was abnormally short, so I knew I couldn't pull off many other positions.

Well, maybe I could.

I watched as the short, orange haired boy flew across the court and landed an impossible to receive spike. I still wasn't used to that combo no matter how many games I watched. Then again, I only had reflexes, not the raw power that that boy had.

I sighed and tore my eyes from the game to look at Yachi. I slumped onto the railing a plopped my head in my hands. "We need more practice games, honestly. The way we're going we're not going to win our match."

"Don't say that Y/n!" Yachi cried.

I shrugged and looked back at the game. My eyes found blonde hair naturally. "Its true. The girls don't practice enough. I think getting our asses completely handed to us will turn the team around. I just feel bad for the third years who will suffer from it."

Yachi didn't have a response to that. She changed the subject quickly and we chatted until the game ended, the whole time I focused on the freakish number ten instead of the boy I knew deep down in my heart I really wanted to watch.

"Nice net drop, broccoli brain," I smirked and clapped my best friend on the shoulder.

His shoulders slumped and he sighed. "I didn't even mean to do it," he bereaved.

"Fucking who cares?" I snorted. "Got us a fat point and they never saw it coming. Just remember how it felt and do it again."

"Y/n," Yama whined and tried to shake me off.

"Y/n giving you crap again?" A rich voice came from behind me, sending shivers down my spine. "That's rich coming from Pipsqueak."

"Says Mr-cant-block-for-shit," I shot back, turning around so that I could stick my tongue out at him.

"I'd like to see you try to pick up a real serve, not that-"

"Hey, hey, cut it out!" Yama stepped in between us, putting a warning hand on us both. "We're all friends."

I glared at Tsukishima but backed down. I didn't want to upset Yamaguchi. I knew how much he hated it when we fought, seeing as it was his two best friends.

I had known Yama since elementary school, when I saved him from some bullies. One day when we were clearly out matched, Tsukishima saved us in his aloof, roundabout way. From then on we were inseparable.

That is until the second year of middle school when Tsukishima and I started fighting all the time. Despite that, we still hung out together. Who knows why he put up with my constant antagonism, but he always reciprocated and never complained.

We got on the bus soon after the game, headed to the school. I was on the girls bus, them on the boys. When we got back to the school we met up again.

When we came to the usual splitting point, Yama spoke up.

"So I'll walk Y/n home," Yama offered like always. I was about to accept when Tsukishima spoke up.

"Nah, I'll do it." Yama cocked an eyebrow. "It's out of your way, Yamaguchi. She lives closer to me."

We all knew this, but the point had never come up before.

"Okay," Yama said warily. "Are you sure you don't want me to come anyways?"

"Tch, we're fine, I don't need a babysitter." Tsukishima rolled his eyes.

"Okay," Yama shrugged. He took a few steps backwards before he said goodbye and started off in the opposite direction.

Tsukishima wordlessly took off in the direction of our houses, so I followed. I was wondering why he suddenly offered to walk me home, but he offered no clues as to why. He used to walk me home before we always fought, but after that he stopped. This was the first time he walked me home in years.

So we walked in complete silence.

When we reached my house, we stood there awkwardly for a moment, looking at it. I wasn't sure what to say, but before I could figure it out, he spoke.

"Why do you hate me?"

I was startled by both the question and the sudden shattering of silence. I turned to look at Tsukishima. He wasn't looking at me, just straight ahead. I tried to read his facial expression, but like always, it was stone cold.

"I don't?" I answered uneasily.

Tsukishima sighed. "Yes you do, you always act so pissy towards me. You even tense up when I'm near."

"I do not," I frowned. I tried to think if I have ever done anything like that, but I drew blank.

"Yes you do," Tsukishima sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. "We..." He paused. He brought he other hand up and rubbed his eyes, pressing his two fingers into his eye sockets. After a moment he threw his hand down, clearly having made up his mind, and turned to look at me. I felt hot under his intent gaze, his eyes searching mine for an answer I was afraid I didn't have. "We used to be close when we were little. What changed."

It wasn't a question. It was more of a statement. It was like he meant to say something different.

So I said it for him.

"We changed."

He scoffed, his face twisting into his signature cynical look. "Bullshit."

"No, that's the answer. Maybe you're not asking the right question," I shot back, confidence fueled by his venom.

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it soon after. His brows furrowed and his lips pressed together. It was more emotion than he was exhibiting earlier, and for some weird reason, it made something in me happy.

"Why are you so mad at me?" He finally asked, face relaxing a bit. He seemed genuinely curious as to the answer.

His sincerity almost made me explode with anger. How could he not know? He was the most insufferable person in the entire world, what wouldn't I be mad about.

But then again, that was wrong. He never mad me mad with his snide comments and dirty looks. It was all in play and it never really bothered me, ever since we were kids, and he knew that too. So I couldn't lie and say it was his personality because I loved his personality. It was something else. Something I was afraid of admitting.

I grit my teeth. What did it matter if I said it or not? It's not like he'd understand anyway.

Once I made up my mind I met his eyes.

"Because you will never give me what I want."

"And what is that?" His voice was soft, wispy, breathless. Afraid.

Your love.

I couldn't say it. Bile rose in my throat and tears prickled at my eyes. I opened my mouth but quickly shut it. I wouldn't say it. I was too afraid.  My eyes fell to the ground, and with them, all my confidence.

All at once my mind began to barrage me. He will never love you, he could never love someone like you. He-

He laughed.

He fucking laughed.

My mind was thrown to a complete and total standstill by the absurdity of it. I looked back up at him with watery eyes in confusion.

"I thought you were smarter than that," he grinned, one corner of his mouth charmingly quirked upwards. "Than to decide what I think."

"What?" I mumbled nearly incoherently.

"We both know if you ask I'll do anything for you, so quit your crying, Pipsqueak."

I opened my mouth, completely surprised by his confession. He'd do anything for me? That couldn't be right...

But the more I thought about it the more I realized it was true. He had always done everything for me. Whenever I needed him he was there. It was me that started the fighting, all because I let my mind tell me that he could never love me, that he never would.

I met his eyes once again, this time brimming with happiness.

"Kiss me, Kei."

"Fine," he dramatically sighed, hiding a small grin. "Come here."

And he did.

Taglist:

Taglists are open! Shoot me an ask or a dm with what fandom you want to be tagged in and I’ll do it right away! :)

[sxnxsterdrabblings]

A/N: Its been a long time since i posted, right?

Request: Hanzo orders his dancer to dance until she collapses, but then punishes her when she collapes quite quickly (due to her having low stamina?) because he thinks she could have danced longer.

Heavy blankets of cigar smoke roll amongst the ill-lit room as Hanzo sits relaxed against a lush couch with one leg crossed over the other. A thick bulge is straining against his slacks as a hefty cigar lays lazily against his plush lips, supported by resting fingers decorated with fine jewelry. With each increasingly long drag, more smoke flows out from the mouth of the dragon, of danger. The proof being thick poisonous clouds that leave nothing untouched.

Except him. He remains untouched by the filth. His crisp suit hugs his form to no fault and stands to show the perfection that is Hanzo Shimada. He’s filthy rich, enviably- unreasonably beautiful, and he holds a gaze that can strike any man with fear. A predator. Honorable, nonetheless... supposedly.

Hanzo has grown to fancy a bit of pain with his pleasure, and god if it isn’t delicious. His eyes shamelessly trace her figure as she sways her body just for him- shamelessly studying his prey, playing with his food. Honorable indeed, working his beautiful dancer until they’re sweating and buckling under their own weight, body collapsing from exhaustion.

Her right knee crumbles and hits the floor first, hard. Then her right elbow, her hip, and an audible choke follows the next arm. As soon as the thud dissipates, a gasp and an audible swallow replace it. She realizes her failure. His disappointment. The punishment to come.

Yet still, the show must go on. As fear roots in her eyes, she makes work of her collapse by spreading her body across the floor. Steadily breathing the dragons breath deep into her lungs, shaking fingers run along her body to sell it as much as she possibly can.

As much as she’s tried, and as much as Hanzo enjoys toying with his food, he knew that his dancer wouldn't make it. This display was quickly worsening his current predicament of what to do.

Hanzo had previously unabashedly laid out the not-so-pretty picture of what he would do if she was to fail, and made it clear to note that it was not up for debate...

—

His eyes slowly scoured the surface of her body as she hesitantly began the descent into the game. Their dance. Hanzo felt himself swell. His decorated hand reached for a cigar, lighting it a bit too far as he looked her in the eyes and the end flared red hot. He eased off the cigar, and with the movement came the first puff of dragon's breath.

“If you fail-

“I won't hesitate to hurt you. You will not enjoy it. You will cry, scream, and beg. I will make sure of it, and I will only stop when I see fit.”

He takes another long drag without breaking eye contact, followed by an onset of billowing smoke. Hanzo makes sure she sees him tracing her body with his eyes before speaking once more in a harsh, firm tone. The mood in the room shifts dramatically.

“I’d find it in your best interest for you to service me, and take what I give to you. If you may find it within yourself to disagree, then this is over, and you can ensure that I will not hold back when lashing you.”

—

But now that raw meat had become a rare steak at the discovery that it was still trying to please him upon its failure, despite being afraid? Now that tears were leaking from her eyes- so close to her breaking point where Hanzo so desperately wanted his dancer to fall over? He throbbed in his pants again. Hanzo wasn’t so sure anymore. It was going to be so much more fun to act on the possibility of playing now, despite not being able to entertain his original plans. Enticing little thing. Infuriating piece of meat.

“Stop.”

The cigar is put out in a nearby ashtray that is just as unnecessarily lavish as everything else in the room, and Hanzo’s eyes immediately shift to your shaking body on the floor. Your head lifts slowly, still hurting from the tumble, and your eyes are wide with fear. But you obey him- your limbs still in place as you wait patiently.

He’s sure if he could eat you, he would do so. He’s leaking uncontrollably in his pants at the sight of you hanging on to his every word and command despite your limits clearly being abused by him.

“Be still.”

The shimada hums in acceptance of your compliance as your body lies stiff. But this doesn’t last long, because seconds later he’s right in front of you, spotless shoes placed right in your field of view. One of them tilts up under your chin, tilting it upwards at a painful angle. His gaze is daring you to disobey to escape your discomfort as his shoe pushes against your jaw higher and higher. A whimper of sorts comes from your throat, and at that moment he hopes you learned to have kept quiet, because his foot drops immediately and you weren’t expecting it. Your chin busts against the floor and you can neither be still nor quiet. You cry out and gasp as fat tears roll down your cheeks, but your mouth keeps pursing as if to hold it all in. You keep trying to please him though, and that’s what keeps him going.

Quiet whimpers are still coming from your mouth and you’ll twitch occasionally due to the crying, causing your chin to wobble and burn worse than before, but your mouth is mostly closed to the point that you’re trying not to breathe in order to obey. Your body is attempting to still it’s movements as you lock the knees you previously busted on the floor, and he knows that it hurts. But he’s throbbing in his pants all the more, leaking with need.

Hanzo decides that he won’t be denying himself any longer, and begins to palm himself. Once more he puts his shoe in front of your face, and he sees more tears continue to form in your eyes, but you remain silent… mostly.

“Lick.”

You open your mouth immediately and Hanzo watches you shake again, your jaw not nearly ready for the onslaught before the recovery.

I might have to keep you.

Your tongue comes out and licks a long broad stripe up his shoe, breath audibly shaky. You continue to do this a few more times, and he knows that turning back will not be an option for him now. Gripping himself tightly one last time through his slacks, he makes sure you hear him unbuttoning them… unzipping them… and shoving them past his v-cut only enough for him to pull his cock out and begin stroking. The slick sounds erupting from above are not lost on you, and he can tell that if you weren’t afraid before, you are now. Or at the very least, you’re about to be.

His knees fold onto his calves so he can balance on his feet, bending down to you. Hanzo can pinpoint the exact moment you realize that he’s shifted to meet you, because his shoe that you were so urgently servicing has now been propped up and creased to support his weight, and your eyes widen to the size of saucers. It makes him chuckle darkly into the room. The next realization comes to you when his hand is gripping your jaw, pulling your face upwards so he can look into your eyes again, or rather, so you can look at your next task. Your face is cradled in his huge palm, and the other hand is steadily stroking while Hanzo gazes at you.

Without breaking eye contact, he pulls away to place the other palm in front of you as well.

“Spit.”

You don’t have the privilege of opening your jaw at least a bit slowly, because this time the shimada does it for you. He grips your jaw tighter, causing it to fall open out of pain, and there’s no rest for you even then. He makes sure of it. Two thick fingers are forced into your mouth quickly, repeatedly, and you cannot stop gagging. Saliva produces even faster now, and as soon as Hanzo sees enough has pooled in your mouth, he’s digging it out and stroking it into his cock. Not too long after, his fingers will go jab back into your gag reflex repeatedly and the process repeats until his dick is glistening with your spit.

Apparently you have learned- he acknowledges with a hum- because when he abruptly drops your jaw this time, you catch yourself.

You’re breathing heavily and drooling into the floor when you settle again, leaking tears. Hanzo pulls himself away once more. He begins to circle you very slowly, stroking slower as he’s observing now. The clack of one shoe sounds off a few feet from your head, and after a few long seconds pass the next audible step is near your shoulder. This continues agonizingly slowly until you hear him circle around to the other side of your head, letting out a pleased sound once more.

You may have collapsed, but this dance is still ongoing. He’s at the top of the food chain, the most dangerous predator, and you unfortunately have fallen into the place of his prey. He’s circling you like his next meal, and Hanzo decides playing with his food has never felt so good. He tucks his cock back into his pants and barks an order,

“Up, girl.”

Shit. You let out a shaky breath, and mentally prepare yourself for the shock that you know is about to shoot down your knee.

You prop yourself up on your hands first and push up, when your elbows begin to shake. The huffs out of your nose become more violent and your throat chokes up as your knee is now at an awkward angle. You attempt to move it inwards in order to gain more leverage but it erupts in pain and you call out- before closing your mouth immediately in fear. You hear heavy footsteps approaching and remind yourself that staying calm should help you escape a harsher blow in the end- but you find yourself leaking tears and gasping for breath again anyway as Hanzo’s blurry shoes appear in front of your hands on the floor. And the blow never comes. Instead, two fingers are gripping your jaw, slowly raising your view to meet his eye line. He’s blurry too.

“I’m sorry, sir, I-“

“Stop.” He pauses to make sure you’ve heard him and only continues once your harsh breathing recedes. “Let your knee relax. I’m going to lift you.” Then suddenly, he’s not so blurry anymore, your knee relaxes, and you gulp audibly. He bends down to grip you around your waist with his big hands and as he raises you cautiously, your knee scrapes across the floor and he pauses. He hasn’t broken eye contact. He’s…. looking for confirmation? But there’s no indication on his face of leniency nor sympathy. You decide not to search for it. You nod shakily and he lifts you up the rest of the way into his arms. Such compliant prey, he thinks.

And as Hanzo carries you away, you realize you shouldn’t have let him. Hanzo smells divine and his clothes are extremely soft. And it only makes it worse that he’s so fucking warm and huge. Inevitably, you start to drift to sleep. You try to make it known to him by nudging your head into his chin lightly to get his attention, but he takes it as you trying to nuzzle into his neck that he then pushes you further into with a hum. You realize it’s a lost cause as your eyes flutter shut and he speaks, sending a sharp pang of fear striking through you.

“I’ll be keeping you.

You may drift off now, you’ll need your rest for your next performance.”

You need to stay awake. Fight him. For once. Keep you? He wasn’t being sweet, he was taming his prey. Playing with his food. Tenderizing the meat. But as the feeling of your head in his kneck and his huge arms around you remains...this only manages to be a thought. You reluctantly succumb to sleep with tear tracks staining your cheeks along with more bruises littering your body to count, head filling with dreams of dancing in shackles.

[cheelduh]

A Liar’s Bait

Pairing: Kaeya x fem!reader

Warnings: Idk fatui abuse? Also Aether gets his braid pulled don’t hate me. Also unedited asf.

Synopsis: There’s a hiccup in the elaborate plan you’ve concocted to rescue your friends, and said hiccup comes in the form of a handsome Cavalry Captain that doesn’t have the foggiest of clues as to what personal space is.

"Ah darling, I didn't know you'd be wondering about this late in the night." The charming cavalry captain, Kaeya, sang from behind you.

For a brief second, you froze in place, but not long enough for him to see through your motives. "Kaeya," You turned to him naturally, and spoke your next words like an actor revising a memorized script. "Have to return a book. You know how Lisa gets."

"At these ungodly hours?" He raised a brow, and you blinked away any remnants of sleep in your eyes at the mention of time.

Barely skipping a beat, you gave him an acknowledging smile. "I have some tasks to do tomorrow. It's better if I return it now." The book that is supposedly due tomorrow is waved hurriedly in the air, as if to exaggerate your point.

"Though it seems like Lisa has went home." He pointed out, cornering you against the brick wall, a knowing look in the deep pools of his eyes.

Of course you knew Lisa wasn't in. That was the entire base of your plan. There were a total of four knights on rotation at the headquarters. It was simple really, sneak into the library with your authority as trusted aide, and if push came to shove, an easy knockout would do.

However, Kaeya's sudden appearance put a hiccup through your plans. It would take more than a sock to the face to put him out of commission.

"Oh really?" You tilted your head in confusion, eyes widening, as you eyed him. "I probably should have came by earlier. Well then, I'll just have to put it on her desk with a note."

"You could trust it with me, and I'll return it tomorrow. Captain's word." He replied innocently, snatching the book from your fingers.

Archons, you absolutely did not have the time for this.

Aether and Paimon were waiting after all.

You decided not to shove a stick up his ass, and instead let your anger blow over silently.

"Your hands are clammy darling," Kaeya went on, flipping through the text just for show. "I can feel it on the book."

'Ew that's gross' You wanted to say, but decided to play his game instead.

"Guess I'm nervous." A forced a blush made its way onto your face. Okay maybe it wasn't forced, but you couldn't blame yourself for letting his subtle teasing get to you.

"Oh?" He feigned curiosity, letting the book close with a soft thud. "My presence often does that to people." The cocky undertone in his voice made you fantasize smacking his face a hundred times over.

"Of course," It was a struggle to not speak in a dry tone. "You are truly..." A small cough escaped your lips, and you tried to stumble upon the words, wishing upon barbatos that the flattering would work. "charming."

Kaeya's grin widened, all cat like, and for a brief moment you felt your heart stutter. He swooped in to cage you against the wall. "I didn't know you were so bold dear."

Before he could utter another flirtatious remark, you pushed yourself close to him, distracting him for a mere moment just to strategically slip the book into the safety of your arms. "Thanks but no thanks. I'll return the book myself."

With a swift duck under his arm, you made your way to HQ before a cold hand grabbed your shoulder. You ceased any movement and glanced over your shoulder, a frown made clear.

Kaeya narrowed his eyes at you, clearly not liking how you weren't becoming a bumbling idiot at his flirty behaviour like you usually did. You'd love to—but you just didn't have the time to deal with him, not when the fatui were breathing down your neck.

"I'll go with you." He said slowly, testing you for any reactions. Shit. He's on to you. "I can't let a pretty lady wander all alone. You might get lost."

Like hell you would. You knew everything about the damn base as if it were the back of your hand. Kaeya understood this as well, but instead, he opted to wake up every morning and choose to be a dickwad.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "Lead the way."

Kaeya seemed satisfied at your reply, and slid his grip down from your shoulder, straight to your free hand. He walked in front of you, pulling you behind him like you were a clumsy toddler.

His gaze wasn't on you, so you took the chance to examine your surroundings, trying to find the presence that was tailing you.

Kaeya being this close to you wasn't looking good for you at all. The walls had eyes and ears, and the only way to apprehend the risk was by doing as they said. Only then would you get your opening.

Paimon...Aether...hold on a bit longer.

With a nod to the guards, Kaeya and you made your way in, stopping right in front of the library. With a puzzled expression on your face, you were about to question his intentions, until he readjusted his grip so that your fingers were intertwined.

You were sure your face was flushed in all kinds of colours by now.

"Shall we enter?" He asked you, mirth clear in his eyes.

The only signal you managed to give him was a quick nod.

The library smelled of dark oak and silk flowers. You briefly remembered Aether giving her the plant from his adventures back in Liyue. The bookshelves were decorated with intricate designs, filled with countless of books that had all earned their rightful place.

And you were about to steal one, summoning chaos into Lisa's beloved library. It would be you who might deliver an archived book straight into the hands of the very people who sought out violence in order to achieve power.

"I'll check it in for you," Kaeya let go of your hand after dragging you all the way to the front desk, only to outstretch it for the text you were gripping too hard.

"Oh yeah," You handed it to him—willingly this time. "thank you. I'll be looking around."

It was understood what you had to do. Easily finding the locked case from which you would slip the book into your clothes only to make a run for it wouldn't cut it.

The captain would make too much noise and track you down himself before you could get the chance to shove the book up the Fatui's ass, get Aether and Paimon their freedom back. Then once you'd ensure their safety, you'd beat the living shit out of the Fatui agents right after. It's not like you'd have a choice.

The whole reason you were in this whole mess was because you decided to help Aether out with his latest commission, which happened to be clearing out a hilichurl camp smack dab in the middle of a road. The camp blocked all imports and exports, proving to be a stick in the butt for the merchants of Monstadt.

You, oh helpful and kind you, assisted him with the task, seeing as you were walking back from a fishing trip.

Turned out that the hilichurl camp was a cover for a bunch of Knights of Favonious hungry Fatui agents who were hellbent on getting the one and only copy of a book Lisa had tucked away in the library.

While you two could've easily ended every single one of those shady bastards, enemy reinforcements came out of nowhere and dug their claws right into Aether.

At least that was the cover story.

Violà, a hostage situation was born.

They promised to let Aether go on one condition. If you obtained a book they had their eyes on for quite some time. But their promise had as much worth as Venti's word did when he told you that the drinks were on him.

They couldn't risk the Knights finding out. You were just another loose string that would be cut off along your two friends.

Locating the book and hiding it in your outfit undetected was as effortless as it could get. What was coming would not be.

"Darling," Kaeya called out to you, but his voice is different. More darker than usual. You didn't summon your spear just yet.

"I've finished up. Let's get going yeah?" His footsteps are light on the wooden planks of the floor, but his words are solid. Frozen even.

You breathed out, but refused to turn around.

"You know," He continued, halting next to your shoulder, leaning his sweet mouth down to your ear. His hot breath fanned against your neck, but you paid no heed. "A liar is no stranger to a liar."

You lunged to the side, spinning on your heel as your back hit the railing in the middle of the library. The captain reacted quickly by swiping the air, but ultimately failed to grab you as you gracefully tipped yourself over, landing right on your feet.

There was now a floor that separated the two of you. Just as you had intended.

The reflexes you showcased earned you a smooth-voiced chuckle, an amused smirk gracing his lips. He leaned against the ledge with both hands, bending down his upper body.

"Oh my. We've got ourselves a thief. You didn't think I wouldn't notice, right?" He contemplated, weapon materializing right then and there, ready to put on a good show. You could read him like a book just as he could you. "Can't believe you're such a naughty girl."

Despite his teasing tone, his eyes remained cold and calculating.

"Don't flatter yourself." You spoke monotonously, brushing a hand in the air. "The date stamp didn't match up right? Tight time frame, couldn't really think about the logistics."

Kaeya narrowed his eye shrewdly, offended. "I can't let you go you know."

"I don't need you to." You quipped, but then placed a finger on your chin. "On second thought I kind of do. How about a friendly transaction? I really don't want to fight you."

"And I do not wish to fight you, darling." Kaeya's face split into a viscous smile, a far less forgiving gaze meeting you halfway. This was your chance to tell him, he was giving you a generous opening to explain yourself.

You bit your lip, feeling the unknown presence yet again. The walls had eyes and ears. The walls had vengeful teeth that would dig into you the minute you'd let it slip.

"I need you to let me go." You clutched the leather of your gloves desperately, your prior confidence flickering. Begging was the only card you had left.

His hardened gaze on your form softened slightly, but disappeared almost instantly.

You didn't have to wait for him to voice his answer. It was as clear as day.

The captain didn't waste any more time when jumping over the ledge.

By the time Kaeya's feet made impact, your pole arm was already aimed and ready to strike.

"Let's dance."

-

After a tactical withdrawal, you found yourself taking tentative steps on the outskirts of Springvale. It wouldn't have been possible if Kaeya didn't let his guard down momentarily.

The cuts on your shoulder still stung, but it was difficult to spare any time towards the throbbing.

Why were you walking so slow? Did your plan not work? No, it should have. You calculated every risk. But why the hell were you prolonging the inevitable end?

It didn't matter. Either way, you'd get to sink your teeth into some unfortunate fatui agents, injecting them with centuries worth of pain.

The opening was nearby, you noted, the pathway familiar. You always were good with maps, oftentimes lending a hand to the certain young outrider with a bright smile and kind heart.

You allowed yourself to calm your erratic heartbeat, and slow your breathing as to get a clearer sense around you. There were two, but before there had been three. The third one revealed himself when you deployed your "return the book" scheme, flipping through the guidebook carefully to see if you left potential breadcrumbs.

Gnawing at your lip, you followed the trail, the world behind you quieting down to a silent whisper.

It seemed like forever when you reached the destination, halting your movements.

Your ears perked up at their footsteps before you could catch a glimpse of them, but made no sudden movements except for dropping the book on the ground as they had instructed.

It was odd that you felt as calm as you did. It could've been because of your confidence in your abilities, or perhaps, something else entirely.

The pyro agent appeared from one of the bushes, right after shoving a bruised and gagged Aether. Paimon came next, in a cage controlled by a fatui cicin mage who wore a wicked smile on her stupid face.

They managed to shut Paimon up real quick. You wondered what it took, but not for too long.

"Hey now," You grinned, but your fingernails were digging crescents in your palm. "I thought we agreed that no one gets hurt?"

"The traveller here is a real handful." The fatui agent hissed from under his mask, harshly yanking Aether by his braid.

Aether, immobile, scowled in discomfort and continued to struggle through his bounds.

You didn't acknowledge the blond nor the agent's words, alternatively choosing to nod your head to the book instead. "Here as promised."

The agent motioned to the Cicin mage, who walked forward in order to obtain the book safely. She handed it back to him, and he briefly flipped through it, seemingly satisfied.

Just like that, Aether was knocked down on his knees next to your feet, Paimon thrown like a sack of potatoes atop him. They were out of the red. Your signal to strike.

"Unfortunately, promises are beneath our pay grade." The agent placed a finger on his chin, as if in thought. "However, you prove to be a valuable asset."

"Oh really?" You piped, eyes crinkling in mock excitement. "I'm really glad a lowly fatui scum thinks so highly of me. It's truly an honour."

Said fatui agent glared knives straight through his mask.

"Kill them." He ordered, and the Cicin mage hummed a sound of delight, summoning her electro-flies or whatever the hell those things were called.

Your polearm took shape in the clutches of your left hand, a twisted grin plastered on your face.

"I'm gonna have so much fun tearing you apart." The bloodlust you emanated was enough to choke the air out of both the mage and agent.

Pouncing on your prey, you didn't give the mage a chance to scream before you landed a roundhouse kick straight to her ribs. She made a guttural choking sound, moving to clutch herself. You ended the move by twisting your weapon into the air to send a shattering hit straight to her temple.

Your blow successfully knocked her out, the kick back proving to be enough to send the pyro agent flying into a nearby tree.

"I really expected something more challenging." A pout formed on your lips, eyebrows furrowed. "Hopefully you can make up for what your mage lacked. If not, I'll be disappointed."

The agent chuckled painfully. "You won't get the chance. You can't take on all of us."

"All of you?" You questioned, tilting your head, eyes widening innocently. "Oh you mean those pesks that were tailing me? So sorry, but they're gone now."

"W-what?!" He sputtered, quick on his feet as he pulled out his knife, charging it with elemental energy. "How could you have—"

"How unfair," A low tone whistled, and Kaeya finally made an appearance, smiles and everything. "Don't give her all the credit. You're making me feel left out."

The pyro agent scattered around his flames, preparing to shake up the battle—

You lost your patience and picked up a decent sized rock, aimed for his nose, and sent a plunging attack.

The agent lost consciousness before he hit the ground.

"Oh come on!" Kaeya's dejected groan rang in your ears. "Could've let me have a turn."

"You already had your turn." You sent a pointed stare at him, bending down near the mage to wipe the blood of your pole arm with her clothes. "Two times if I recall."

He rolled his eyes playfully, forgetting the banter to go and free the traveller of his bounds.

—

"Let's me get this straight." Jean said with fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. "You two roughed up some fatui agents without informing the knights, and put the traveller at risk." There's this look of disappointment in her face, but you're used to it by now.

Hanging around Kaeya sure had its ups and downs.

"Precisely. The folder on your desk has all the details. Enough proof to have them in our custody.” The cavalry captain nodded along, and it somehow made you feel like you were a kid being scolded after getting caught stealing cookies from the jar.

"It was an operation that the traveller agreed to," You declared so her brewing anger didn't overflow. "The perfect plan to catch them in the act. It was my idea. The captain didn’t really know until later.”

"Although I’m quite hurt you didn’t fill me in any sooner, I must say, watching those ignorant fatui diplomats scramble to try and find an explanation is going to be worth the wait.” He spoke with a hint of a smile.

The both of you fist bumped. Jean wasn't amused.

The acting grand master produced a stern glare. "Y/N, assist Lisa with anything she needs for the rest of the week. And the Cavalry Captain here won't be going out on patrols any time soon."

That was a clear lie, but Jean had to keep up appearances after all. What kind of acting grand master would she be if she didn't at least pretend to have some sort of authority over her two trouble-making subordinates.

With a dramatic sigh, you spun on your heel to leave.

“Hey Y/N,” Jean called out, and you tilted your head, wanting to know if she changed her mind and decided to make your punishment worse. “Good work today. That will be all.” She avoided eye contact, feigning deeper interest in the pileup on her desk.

After the "briefing”, as Kaeya liked to call it, you found yourself outside of HQ with him right on your tail.

"Not too shabby for a day's work." He winked, smoothing out his words. "I must say, I'm quite impressed with how this went. Didn't expect you to put so much faith in me.”

"How did you get my signal anyways?" You snorted. "The entire scheme was off the bat. I had to wink at the traveller like five times to get him to showcase a crappy fight stance and become my fake hostage. Dense little guy.”

There was a momentary pause before Kaeya enlightened you with an answer.

"You hate reading, and you're irresponsible." He pointed out cheekily, poking at your nose. You scrunched your nose and turned away, cheeks warming. "The abyss would freeze over before you ever read a book, let alone steal one. That’s several red flags for me.”

He kept going, finding the topic of this to be quite interesting. “Not to mention returning the “Code of Conduct” handbook.” The relentless teasing was one of the reasons why you dreaded work,

"Gee thanks." You remarked unceremoniously. “I didn’t need your help at all. You just love sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

"Aww don't be so low spirited." He suspended your movements by curling an arm around your waist. "Let me treat you for a job well done darling." His hot breath fanned your ear, lips teasingly close.

Dammit dammit...why does he have to be so close!

"That's unfair." Paimon screeched from thin air, scaring the living daylights out of you. "After all the traveller and I have been through, don't we deserve a treat as well?!"

Kaeya laughed apologetically, cold hand never leaving your hips. "Of course. The honorary knight has been quite the help. Now let’s get moving, we're not frozen in place, after—"

A smack on the arm shut him up real quick.

[heyitsmerose]

Edge (Smut 18+) [pt.1]

This is the first smut I'm attempting, please DO NOT read this if you're under 18.

Word count: 2k

Genre : Smut, 18+, mild fluff, angst

Warnings : Oral sex, Edging, Eating Out

read this as a prologue

Chills went down your spine just thinking about what your first time with Hongjoong would be like. Sure, you'd had sex before, but making love with someone you actually love is something you had never experienced.

His cold hands delicately made contact with your stomach and you shivered. At the moment, you were straddling Hongjoong, facing him. He noticed you were getting chills and he just chuckled pecking the tip of your nose.

He slowly glided his fingers up reaching the band at the bottom of your bra. He looked up at you and you nodded. He slowly cupped one breast and squeezed it eliciting a soft sigh from your mouth. He then trailed both of his hands to the back of your bra and skill-fully unhooked it even without looking. The way his hands grazed the skin of your back was really pleasing and you wrapped your hands around his neck, playing with the longer hair in the back.

He let your bra fall to the base of your waist, and pulled it out of your shirt. He then stopped for a moment and tilted his head up pulling you in for a kiss. You were surprised by how much time he took for everything, giving you all his attention. Your lips softly crashed into each other and he sucked on your top lip. You sucked on his bottom lip making his groan, giving you deeper access to his mouth. He swiped his tongue along the side of yours briefly, and just as he was about to deepen the kiss further, you pulled away, leaning down and kissing his jaw.

He held onto your waist, nearly able to hold your entire waist in his hands. He tilted his chin up, and the ways his eyes were fluttered shut, eyelashes fallen gently on his cheeks encouraged you, you were whipped. You disconnected from his jawline and he took the opportunity to pull off your top. You were wearing one of his loose tops anyways, so he could see everything through it anyways.

He pulled it over your head, and you once again wrapped your hands around his neck. He hoisted you higher up on his lap so your chest was level with his face. He licked a stripe right in the middle of your chest and you groaned at the feeling. He continued teasing you so you wrapped your legs around his waist, locking yourself trying to get him closer to your chest. He deeply chuckled, mouth still in contact with your chest, and the vibrations radiated throughout your chest.

He finally decided it was enough teasing and blew on one of your nipples, you shivered, closing your eyes and he took that moment to take one of your breasts in his mouth. You jolted forward into him, hitting his hard chest, wrapping your legs together around his waist. There couldn't have possibly been any space in between the both of you at this point. He sucked on your breast and took the other one in his other hand. He cupped it and gave it a good squeeze. You started shifting in his lap and he groaned from the friction.

Ignoring his own needs for the moment, he sucked and kissed your nipple as well as the underside of your breast making you groan loudly. He then released with a soft kiss and moved on to working on the other breast. He blew on it again and instead of taking it in his mouth, he simply stuck out his tongue, flattening his tongue against your hard nipple. You dug your fingers into his scalp as a mode of praise and he continued. He then took just the tip of your nipple in his mouth sucking on it. You started feeling that familiar bubbly sensation rising in the pit of your stomach and you were surprised by how he was able to get you so close without even touching the lower half of your body. He kept kissing your nipple and took the other one in his hand. You moaned as you felt you were starting to get closer. He took the other nipple in between his fingers and started tweaking it.

You gasped feeling your orgasm quite close.

"Wait Joong, I think I'm about to cum, I dont-" You cut yourself off with another gasp as he quickened the pace.

"I cant-" You tried to continue but moaned as he grazed his teeth against your nipple.

"I didn't know I made you feel that way" He whispered into your chest, chuckling. His deep laughter reverberated across your chest sending vibrations and it sent you off the edge.

"Oh fuckkkk, I'm gonna cum" You moaned, grinding on his lap to get some sort of friction down there despite both of you being clothed. You grunted letting out whimpers. He continued squeezing both of your breast in his hands while occasionally tweaking them. You were already close but when he softly kissed just the tip of your nipple with his soft, lush, pink lips you shivered and that broke the tension.

"You moaned and your eyes rolled to the back your head as you shook, slumping forward, resting your head in the crook of his neck. You let out choked gasps and thrusted into his lap trying to get some sort of friction and he helped you ride it out as he continued licking and devouring your breasts, holding you in his arms. After it was over you slumped into him, as he caught your waist.

"Damn babe, I didn't know I could make you do that" He said and you regained your breath.

"I didn't know I could do that" You sighed, sitting back straight up again.

"Can I make you feel good now?" You whispered into his ear and he shuddered, at this point it was more than obvious that he was trying to hold out for as long as possible. His crotch felt hard against your bottom.

You crawled off his lap, still at the edge of the bed and sat down on the floor, on your knees. He realised what you were doing and blushed a deep red. He continued to swiftly unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. You pulled down his boxers letting his hard member spring out, hitting his stomach. It was red and swollen and you knew that it probably hurt from holding out that long. He stood up and walked to where you were, giving himself a few pumps beforehand.

You grabbed his hand which was over his member and guided it to your mouth. You knew it wouldn't be too long before he came seeing that he was already quite close. You kissed the tip of his cock and licked the tip slowly as he groaned.

"Please y/n, it fucking hurtts" He hissed from the sensitivity. You decided to do what he said and took all of it into your mouth. He groaned, hips bucking into your mouth. He wasn't big enough to choke you, but enough so that you felt him at the back of your throat. You didn't have a gag reflex and used that to your advantage to deep throat him. You cradled his member by curving your tongue and licking the bottom of his shaft, sucking on his balls, moaning into him.

"fuck I'm close, oh shit" A string of curses left his mouth and you took him in your mouth again. He grabbed your head and started thrusting into your mouth faster. You grabbed the back of his thighs to balance your self and match his pace. You swirled your tongue on the base and sides. He grunted and his thrusts got sloppy so you squeezed his thighs moving at the pace you were before as you knew he was close. His fingers dug into your scalp trying to grab onto something. He thrusted one last time before he came.

"Ahhhh fuck Y/nnnn" He whined, beautiful noises coming out of his mouth. His entire body shook and swayed as he emptied his load into your mouth. You sucked him dry, pecked his tip one last time and got back up

"That was so freaking hot" He whispered catching his breath as he made his way to the bathroom. He ushered you in and you just looked at him a little confused.

"You can spit it out" He claimed pointing at his own mouth while gesturing. The corners of your lips lifted up and with one big gulp you had swallowed all of what was left in your mouth. He widened his eyes and came closer to you.

"You're such a good girl for me, do you think I can do the same for you?" He asked and you were confused, he already made you come once...

"I want to eat you out" He clarified and you hid your face in your hands. At this point, you were still wearing pants and were only bare on the top. He chuckled and brought you to the edge of the bed. He got on his knees on the floor and guided you to sit on the bed in front of him. He slowly pulled down your leggings and left you only in your underwear.

"I will only continue if you want me to, are you sure you're okay with this?" You nodded wanting to feel his mouth on you already but he stopped you again"

"I need to hear a yes, baby" He once again clarified.

"Yes Kim Hongjoong, just fuck me with your tongue" You said more confidently now.

"Just tap on my shoulders three times if its too much okay?" He said sincerely, looking back at you. You mumbled a yes and he pulled down your underwear. You were at the edge of the bed so he had full access to you. He held your thighs in his hands and slowly opened them wider, giving him access to your heat. His eyes hungrily stared at your wet folds, no doubt the previous activities had gotten you quite aroused.

He gently blew on you and you shivered. He kissed your stomach and slowly made his way down with light feathery kisses. You felt him getting closer and closer to your heat and you anticipated for him to make contact. He spread your legs wider and finally kissed your clit. You moaned loudly and shifted closer to the edge of the bed, resting your elbows back needing some kind of support. He snaked his arms around your thighs grabbing each one firmly at the back to give more support.

He licked a stripe up from your hole tasting you. He "hmm"ed at the taste going back in. His tongue made contact again and circled your clit. You moaned and were getting impatient.

"Faster please, I wanna cum really bad" He chuckled at your eagerness and wrapped his mouth around your bud. He started flicking his tongue against it and you groaned loudly. You started grinding your gips against his mouth for more action. He grinned against you and started sucking faster on your clit. Soon enough, you felt like you were close again. You stuttered out...

"Hongjoong, I'm close"

"Hold it, wait a little longer" He commanded while you were getting lost in the pleasure. You squirmed trying to reduce the pressure since you knew you wouldn't last much longer. He sucked on your clit while bopping his back and forth, tugging it in all ways. You cried from the intense pleasure and the sensitivity.

"Babe! I can't, Hongjoong ah-" You cut yourself off, biting your lip trying to hold in the loud noises you were making. He started moving your hips with his hands and you matched his rhythm. You started thrusting into his mouth and grinding at the same pace while he put more pressure on your clit.

"fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck" you chanted almost rhythmically. Your eyes squeezed shut from trying to hold it in. You scrunched the bedsheets under you in your hands as you kept thrusting into his mouth at a fast pace. You shook and squirmed and felt yourself coming any second.

"Fuck! I'm gonna- ah" You tried saying but he flattened his tongue against your clit putting constant pressure.

"Joong please!" At this point tears had started to collect in your eyes from the intense sensitivity and pleasure you were feeling, and from holding in your orgasm.

"Count to 10" He ordered, tongue still pressed firmly against your clit

"one" You said biting down on your lip trying to distract yourself drawing blood.

"two"

"Very good babe keep going" He ushered you, mumbling into your clit adding more pleasure from the vibrations in his voice.

"three"

"four" You let out a choked sob but muffled yourself against your hand so he couldn't hear

"You can do it, come on" He said now rubbing his nose against your clit from side to side

"five" you grunted out

"six"

"seven"

"Three more" He said, taking one of his hands off your thighs and spreading your folds apart

"I can't-" You cried"

"Yes you can" He encouraged you

"eight"

"nine" he spread your folds wide open with his fingers licking everywhere, not leaving a single area untouched. You arched your back away from him bet he held you back with the one hand still on your thigh

"ten" He started moving your hips with his hands and guided you to thrust your hips too. You grinded against his mouth, slamming your clit into his tongue

"Cum for me babe" That was all it took to tip you over the edge. You thrusted into his mouth faster a few more times and felt your orgasm wash over you. Your back arched off of the bed and tears spilled out.

"Oh my goddd!" You thrashed and shook from the pleasure, eyes rolling the back of your skull. Hongjoong held on to you though, helping ride out your orgasm not letting you go and holding you in place despite your attempts to squirm away from sensitivity. Hongjoong helped you ride it out as long as possible while maintaining the same position of his tongue simply pressing on your bud putting a lot of pressure on it.

You hiccuped and gasped trying to catch your breath.

It was definitely the longest and most intense orgasm you had ever had lasting for over 40 seconds and making you feel intense euphoria. Tears left your eyes and you slumped back onto the bed from that exhilarating orgasm. You just laid back and openly sobbed and Hongjoong freaked out. You saw him instantly pop up from under the bed, nose and chin shining, covered in your juices. His face showed nothing but concern and worry. You hands flew to your face while you cried.

"Babe what's wrong?"

[sassooda]

Worlds Away JJK AU / Chapter 36 - No Longer Alone 🔞

w/c - 7,680

               “Kokoro really was a fool…I almost feel sorry.” Genghis is in the mood to celebrate as he quietly snickers through the Titer compound, planning to share the news with Getou. He passes through a crowded windowless but well-lit room heading towards the southern bunker. Nearly all of the clansmen and women bow to his presence as he cheerfully ambulates through their earthy corridors, submitting their trust into him. He enjoys the gestured acclaim, knowing full well this position being his was long overdue. After searching over the room joyfully, he becomes momentarily sidetracked as his first turbulent encounter ensues. The young Titer that served Mugoi before appears in front of him, blocking Genghis’s direct path. ‘Now to reform these loose ends…’, he thinks to himself as he assesses the young Titer’s despair. “You there, what is your name?” Genghis sees the hatred in the young man’s face.

               “…Itgeltei.”, is all the young man offers while still trying to remain fearless in front of the now most masterful man of the clan. “Itgeltei Baidal.”. His chin-length black hair waves with the wind as his deep brown eyes feign revenge.

               Genghis smirks to the spiteful response, understanding that the poor wretch has lost his own mentor and is raging with emotions. “You can come with me now, there is still much work to be done.” He motions for the young Titer to follow him but the single energized stomp in response makes him halt his resumed stance.

               “YOU KILLED MASTER KOKORO!” Baidal surges his energy and aims it at Genghis with tear filled eyes. “…and my SISTER!” His shaking limbs continue to quake as he takes a deep breath and prepares to at least injure the newly appointed head before being killed himself. “You have to pa-…”.

               Genghis, without lifting a finger, uses his presence to immediately suffocate the young man who is now clear with regret. “I certainly did not kill Mugoi or Okhin, that was the enemy.” The fear pricks its way to the surface as the young Titer now seems to recognize exactly how unmatched he is and this entertains Genghis, “See, I never inherited the ancient techniques but I’m the top dog now for a reason…”, Genghis slowly approaches while Baidal chokes, surely feeling compressed as he opens his mouth to breathe but is unable to suction in any air. “…I have learned other ways to instill my goals.”. After reaching the young Titer, he looks around to all of the surveyors that stand winded with horror. “YOU ALL UNDERSTAND WHO IS IN CHARGE NOW, RIGHT?!”. Genghis darts his eyes back to Baidal who’s face has since turned red and puffed from the lack of oxygen while he continues to struggle. A woman near the door cries, “Yes! We do Master Genghis!”, and all of the Titers before him that are able, drop to the floor to offer an extensive bow. “Alright then!”, Genghis releases the young Titer with a smile and watches him crash to his knees, gasping. Genghis kneels down before him and holds out a hand, “If you’re willing to redirect your hatred to the right place, you can still serve your clan to the upmost, Baidal.”, but he’s met with still resentful eyes and understands that the young man will need time to decide his own fate as his hand is swatted away. “If you cannot however, you serve no purpose at all. Consider my offer.”. Genghis then turns to continue walking to Getou before the young man did something hasty, not wanting a scene to erupt with so many witnesses.

               After Genghis leaves that corridor, Baidal hunts the room for any indication that he had supporters on the matter but feels completely alone as everyone looks down or simply continues with their business. ‘He may be powerful but he needs to be stopped.’, Baidal’s frustration peaks as he’s still trying to regain his breath, knowing that Genghis could have crushed him if he wanted to. Beneath his heaving he mutters the words that would have caused him death had they been heard, “He was supposed to stay locked away.”. Only by being Kokoro’s understudy did he become privy to the horrifying information of Genghis’s past and the true reason he was sent to death by the hands of Satoru Gojo to begin with. Baidal knows that there was never any love between himself and Getou, being that Kokoro committed atrocities himself. ‘I have to find allies…’, knowing he may have to outsource beyond his clan in order to have the backing necessary. ‘What does he have planned for Master Getou?’. Baidal thinks to check a few more friends before leaving the compound, his anxieties feeling all too real to ignore.

               Genghis is back to his excited mood as he feels the weight of Kokoro’s lack of existence uproot his very soul. ‘Kokoro was a mediocre man and never should have been given this role.’, he resounds internally as he feels that although that wasn’t the exact future he saw, he knew Mugoi was likely to expire at the hands of Fushiguro. “I do admire this Toji’s strength and he will certainly give us another edge until his time comes as well.”. He pretends to be kind as more Titers bow on foot to him as he passes, loving the thrill of being the faux head. The red clay-made walls and ground signify his descent into the compound, “Now we just have to work on Getou with the girl…”. Genghis smiles wider, ‘She’s truly perfect. What she’s capable of…what I’ll have her do…’. Genghis has yet to reveal all of his plans to Getou but will do so when he feels the time is right but not a moment sooner and for good reason.  Upon turning the corner towards Getou’s quarters though, he feels the gravitational presence. “Such a grown child…”, but hurriedly runs towards the door with slight apprehension, knowing there were some of the help in there with him.

               Getou is furiously releasing his gravity manipulation throughout the room. He’s yelling out but the sound means nothing in particular as he pins weaker Titers that were only there to serve him. “What am I supposed to do with THAT?!”, in pure fury he asks one of the servants as he points to the shattered bowl with water spilled all around it. “She’s…SHE IS DISGUSTING!”. The servants cry out unanimously as his fit continues but Getou purposefully doesn’t kill any of them. He looks to a younger male Titer who is already crying, “You really suggest that I should just accept this SHIT?! She’s tainted!”.

               Genghis bursts through the door, “SUGURU! STOP THIS AT ONCE!”, and uses his crippling presence to counter the waves of gravity. They’re no match for Getou’s abilities but they can at least bounce some energy back to him, thus giving his attention to Genghis. “RELEASE THEM!”.

               Suguru faces his mentor and reluctantly quells his technique, allowing the four pinned servants to scurry away through the door behind Genghis. “I wasn’t going to hurt them…but I may hurt bird bitch. You cannot SERIOUSLY expect me to want her.”. Getou now sits to the chair beside him and takes out his bun knowing he made a mess of it. ‘At least Fushiguro took action…’.

               “What happened in the small number of hours I’ve left you?” Genghis sees the shattered bowl and immediately understands that Getou saw something he didn’t like. He takes in the state of the room, all of the different craters formed about as he nears. ‘We’re lucky this part of the structure didn’t collapse…’. He’s a little irritated.

               “I will not have her as my wife.”, Getou huffs. He seethes at the images in his brain that depicted Elska, Naoya and Gojo sharing sexual relations. “She is not suited to be ANYONE’s wife!”. He accidentally snaps his hair band apart while trying to put his hair back up and becomes further infuriated. After grinding his teeth together, he tosses the useless hair tool across the room before running his hands through his long black hair. He sees Genghis nearing him and tries to recollect himself so he doesn’t seem immature. ‘Why the fuck did I have to see that?’.

               “What happened little one? What is SO bad that you feel you can justify this tantrum?” Genghis needs his words to cut but not in a way that will dislodge Getou further. He understands that sometimes he just may need a parental figure and is attempting to gratify this part of Suguru.

               “She…”, Suguru’s words silence for a moment before continuing, “…she was having sex with Zenin and Gojo…”. His fists clench reflexively as the thought of Gojo enjoying himself, living care free. It wrenches his intestines together. There’s a lack of response from Genghis, so he lowers his voice to exact his reasoning, “She fucks everyone.”, he cackles in annoyance, “Everyone but me that is.”. Getou remembers her glare when he left the room they held her in at the base. “I knew Zenin was oddly territorial with her but I never would’ve guessed this debauchery. He hates Gojo too…so I thought.”. Getou reels over the loss of his cohorts once again as he’s no longer alone but it doesn’t really feel like it.

               Genghis knows Suguru is expecting him to be riddled with disgust as well but he’s isn’t. ‘Is he..?’, Genghis is not even upset anymore as he feels that was confirmation of Suguru’s jealousy, whether Getou knows it or not. ‘Maybe there is hope for us after all…’. He lets a few seconds pass to simulate that of someone who cares. Genghis loves Suguru like a son but he also loves his own future as well along with his grandiose plans for their clan. With a small sigh he brings a chair and places it opposite of Getou and sits down. “Look little one, are you sure tha-…”.

               “SHE HAD GOJO INSIDE OF HER WHILE SHE WAS GAGGIN ON ZENIN!” Getou almost doesn’t catch himself in time to control the surging energy flowing through him. ‘Gojo… of all people.’.

               “Hmmm…”, is all Genghis offers while he thinks of how to diffuse this situation.

               “HMMM??!!!” Suguru mocks and then hollers, “What the FUCK kind of response is that?!”. He sees the glint of anger that flashes across his mentor’s eyes and decides to calm down. It’s a matter of respect.

               Genghis raises an eyebrow at how perceptive Getou can be at times although he needs to learn to be like that always. “I can see why that would bother you…”, but Getou scoffs as he turns away. “Her nature…it’s solidified but ever changing it would seem. We may not have the time we originally thought.” Suguru looks back to him now as he’s obviously curious as to what that could mean. ‘She’s already creating a small but powerful army.’.

               “What is that you know, Master?” Getou’s back to his collected demeanor as he’s eager to understand what could cause Genghis to seem so offhand on the ordeal. He looks around the destroyed room and feels slightly embarrassed, especially if there’s some kind of explanation.

               “When she drinks from the hybrid, his curse blood fuels her own. This is what I was trying to elucidate to you before.” Genghis checks to make sure he has Getou’s undivided attention. When he’s satisfied by his pupil practically hanging on the edge of his seat, he continues, “She has awakened to a small degree and with her kind, that means a growing appetite for many things and less inhibiting emotions in exchange.”. Getou’s eyes narrow in response but Genghis proceeds, “When we get her here, you’ll have to sate her needs little one so it’s best you understand now.”. He’s anticipating a rebuttal but it doesn’t arrive, ‘Good, because if you don’t, I will...and that may cause some problems.’.

               Getou is still mildly confused but understands enough that he’ll have to feed and fuck her. “I’ve already tried that, it didn’t work.”. His thoughts take to the last time he saw her, while he was working his way in.

               “You stabbed her, broke her wings and then forced yourself between her legs… let’s understand the difference here, Suguru…”, Genghis shakes his head as he didn’t want to be so blunt but at the same time, there’s no room for error there, Getou must comprehend that.

��              “And she called out for Naoya when I did.”, Getou’s patience are being tried at this point. He knows he was wrong in his approach and even with his brutal nature. He also is hesitant to express anything in regards to that scent that provoked him.

               Genghis interrupts the pity party, “Because she’s afraid of you Suguru…and rightfully so!”. He softens his eyes for his pupil for just a moment, “I could never imagine expecting any other outcome. I’ve never even thought to do something like that to a woman.”, Genghis lies with complete knack.

               Getou exhales heavily and turns his gaze to the shattered bowl, “That doesn’t explain why she’s fucking everyone…”, he loses himself in those same images again and runs his finger along his scarred cheek. His eyes widen as he’s suddenly remembering the aftermath, “Toji attacked them though, I’m guessing Kokoro succeeded?”. He switches his view back to his mentor with inquisitive eyes.

               Genghis decides to hold off of the details about Elska and Toji following the incident. ‘She really is getting her fill though…’, but smiles to her ways as he watched them that day, all of it, from afar. He then tilts his head upwards and tries to hold his happiness inside as he delivers Mugoi’s fate, “Kokoro perished by the hands of Fushiguro… and Oda.”.

               Upon hearing of Mugoi’s death a small smirk appears initially but then he’s overcome with the fact that he’d always planned on taking out Kokoro himself. “How can he be dead? Isn’t he under the same technique?”. He hopes the bastard can return for more.

               Genghis allows his grin to sneak through after seeing Getou’s reaction, knowing they’re both pretty glad the fuckers gone. “Yes well, they didn’t use any techniques to kill him, they just utilized that nature of theirs. If he were killed with a cursed ability, yes, we could have reversed that.” Genghis chuckles lowly, “I told him to be extremely cautious but he ultimately underestimated this Toji gravely. To be fair though, I wasn’t expecting the girl to behave as she did…she killed Okhin viciously as well.”.

               Getou catches on to his master’s amusement and it rubs him as odd, “You said the outcome would benefit me…did you know this would happen?”. He’s decided to place that weird display in the back of his mind for the time being. ‘Okhin too?’, Getou barely knew the Titer woman but was aware of her loyalty to himself and their cause and feels regret that she lost her life.

               “I did.”. Genghis leans toward being honest about this bit at least. He waits to gauge Getou’s response and becomes eased when he can tell that his knowing won’t be met with hostility. “Mugoi wasn’t a very good man and he had no business leading this clan. His strategies were half-baked and his desires to lead were misplaced.”.

               “I never did like him…I actually hated that fucker and owed him for Kechi and Eso...” Getou sighs as there’s yet another thing to be grateful to Elska for. “Serves him right.”. ‘I wonder how she did it?’. Getou ponders on her mysterious existence and wonders what else he may not know about her. He thought he was well informed before but sees that’s not the case at all.

               Genghis smiles genuinely as he proceeds the conversation to nourish the seed he’s planted, “So…you were watching her?”. He gives a playful shove to Suguru, “You can’t hide the fact that you’re interested…I can already tell.”.

               Getou’s face becomes deadpanned at his mentor’s words. He’s self-conscious about the truth in the statement, not really being sure as to when it happened nor why. He looks back at the shattered bowl, “I was seeing if there were any tactics I could formulate based on their own.”. He feels another light push and it’s clear that Genghis wasn’t buying it. ‘Why is she so important to even him?’. He sighs in frustration, “Yes, ok? I was watching her…although I regret it now.”. His eyes widen during the statement, showing he meant it desperately.

               Genghis releases a loud cheer into the room, “ALRIGHT!”. He pats Getou on the shoulder, “This is great little one! You shall have her then!”. He can barely control his pride as he knows this step was imperative to conquer. “We will have to secure her soon before the others reach her to do the same.

               Getou wants to ask about the others mentioned but figures it pertains to the clans also aiming for the same goal. He becomes tactical, “I think we should draw them in and crush all of their shaman.”. This time, when preparing her quarters, he would take a note from Naoya and make sure she can at least be impressed by their offer. ‘Would it really make that much of a difference though?’, he’s unsure of what lies ahead because of what’s occurred in the past.

               Genghis leans forward with approval, “That is a wise idea but we should bait them first.”, he smiles maliciously, “I think we should take your lover first and give them a location.”.

               Getou blushes against his own will and tries to mask it with haste, “Whatever, that’s fine. I need to prepare an area for her.”. Suguru stands up, cloaked in agitation as he worries about what could be wrong with him. ‘Why…am I feeling so…awkward?’.

               “Don’t be ridiculous, you only need to prepare another room for yourself.” Genghis can’t believe that he’s having to hold his pupil’s hand through this but laughs to the confusion painted on Suguru’s face, “She’s going to be staying with you.”.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------          

               “Cho, how do you know this? ARE THEY NEARBY?” Naoya knows Choso is also very fine tuned when it comes to sensing other techniques, primarily the Titers for having worked around them for so long. Naoya still is looking around to silently ask everyone to be on their guard.

               Choso doesn’t remove the box from his pocket. He keeps his fingers wrapped around it though and tries to figure out a way to communicate that won’t bring them to a disadvantage. His stillness unnerves everyone but Toji tries to calm the room, understanding there’s a purpose for it. Choso decides to try something. After standing, he uses his right hand to point at his pocket and while still holding the box inside of there, he flicks it a few times with his finger, creating sound.

               Gojo is the first to catch on and decides to give it a codename, “The bento box!”. He smiles to Choso’s relieved nod and turns to face everyone. “Do you remember the yellow fish delivery we received earlier?”, Toji scrunches his face but then the connection is made. “I believe that Choso’s saying he can tell by the bento box it came in.” Elska now seems to get it as well.

               “Baby? When did you eat yellow fish?” Naoya approaches her with a coy smile as the remaining members in the room sigh in frustration, thinking he was too dense to comprehend. Megumi scoffs being out of the loop and apparently feels ashamed of Naoya’s gestures. When within arm’s reach, Naoya snags Elska by the hip and kisses her cheek while whispering, “We will protect you princess.”. He feels her pull away only enough to look into his eyes. He knows she trusts him, it’s written all over her face and nothing could make him happier.

               Elska is lost in Naoya’s warm expression until a realization hits her, “Does…does that mean they saw…everything?”. She becomes completely uncomfortable at the thought and welcomes Naoya’s arms as they wrap around her fully this time. While burying her face into his chest, she can feel the bass from his voice as he laughs awkwardly above her. ‘Greeeaaaaat…’.

               “Well at least it was worth watching…I can attest to that!”, Gojo’s eyes brighten as he recalls the three of them on the bed. ‘It was…perfection.’. Nanami sends narrow eyes over to him which he can feel instantly and against his rowdier judgement, decides to leave it at that.

               Toji scoffs while looking at Gojo, “You’re the fucking worst, you do know that, right?”. He’s never been able to stand Satoru’s need to gloat about everything, especially when it comes to her.

               Gojo warps himself behind Elska, “Oh…but she loves it…” and ruts his pelvis into her rear.

               Naoya uses his projection technique to pull her away afterward, “You’re too fucking much Gojo, don’t expect that shit to happen again.”. He actually really enjoyed the threesome for the most part but sees that he stoked an already heated fire within Gojo by participating. ‘This guy is not right in the head!’.

               “Sati! Why would you do that in front of everyone?!”, She’s not felt Naoya’s technique first hand like that and stumbled with collecting herself after being moved with such speed. ‘Did he seriously just hump me?’.

               Nanami yells, “SATORU!”, with absolute disapproval as Megumi scowls heavily beside him.

               Choso loses himself in thought after hearing Gojo’s mischievous giggles. ‘Do they know that this connects their energy to us? I can tell when they’re spying…’. He twirls the box within his fingertips in his pocket as he tries to formulate an explanation as to why the Titers left it behind if this was genuine. He looks back over to Toji now, ‘Is he really ok? What did this do to him?’. Choso’s eyes now take to Megumi and his heart sinks knowing that they’ve only just begun their father and son relationship officially, ‘I have to figure this out before it’s too late.’. He still hears the voices of everyone else but doesn’t register that his name is being called. The surging energy from the box also ceases and he quietly states, “I think they’re done for now…”.

               Toji sighs, “Thank god, those fucking creeps have nothing better to than to use ourselves against us.”.

               Naoya and Elska both relax into each other knowing they can likely move more freely now. Naoya smiles at her but then continues what they were originally talking about. “I’ll get you some sweets baby!”. He now turns to Choso who is still in his own mind, “Cho!”, Naoya is waving at his friend, “Does that sound alright to you?”.

               Elska chimes in, “I swear I won’t bite you again!”, she looks around to everyone, “Although I am due for a feed soon…”.

               Naoya gasps, “Well I’ll stay too!”. He’s weary of her feeding from Choso for many reasons, his personal ones at the forefront though.

               Toji huffs, “I think you two should make yourselves scarce when we come back.”, his vision glaring between Naoya and Gojo. “You two have had enough today.”.

               Gojo wants to say something smart to rile Toji up but decides that maybe that wasn’t such a huge demand. He looks to Naoya and whines, “Let Toji feed her tonight…”. He kicks at nothing to display his disappointment but knows that he owes the giant this much at least.

               Naoya grabs her hands now and looks down to her with his weak protest, “Baaaby…”, but then sighs as he can understand where Gojo is coming from, “…Ok…but tomorrow you feed from me!”. He smiles gleefully as he secures one of his favorite past times. Of course, he enjoys the feeling her bite surges through him but more than anything else, he loves how much she enjoys drinking from him. It certainly makes him feel needed and with all of the testosterone surrounding her now, he appreciates the affirmations he receives from her, this one especially. ‘If only I had my own fangs…’.

               “If she drinks too much of you boy, she’ll get fucking cavities.”. Toji laughs to his own joke though as he meant nothing foul by it, he’s actually surprised he didn’t receive more resistance from either of them on the matter of feeding.

               “What are you guys about to do?” Choso now feels he missed something important.

               Elska and Gojo chuckle at the fact that Choso indeed tuned them all out moments ago.

               “They’re going on a food run while you stay with me, if that’s ok!”. Elska smiles and continues, “You can take a shower too if you want, I won’t leave the room but you’ll still have privacy in there.”. She walks over to the bathroom and pulls out a fresh towel from a neat stack that lays on iron shelving next to the tub.

               “And make sure you’re clothed when you leave the bathroom…”, Gojo’s tries to make his tone lighter but he’s serious. “I saw what you’re hiding underneath those clothes, you thick ass stallion!”, and laughs to Choso’s widening eyes.

               Choso recalls Gojo complimenting his body before  and becomes flustered by the accusations being launched at him and quickly defends himself, “Elska! I promise I wouldn’t try to do anything sexy to you!”. He hears Gojo roar into laughter and anchors his eyebrows in a way that show the silver shaman that he’s been teased enough for one day.

               “I would hope not.” Megumi makes his quiet presence known again as he’s only just calmed down after seeing his sensei hump her…and then there’s the feeding. He turns his nose up and hollers while leaving for the door with Nanami, “GIVE HER SOME SPACE.”.

               “Doll, I’ll be right back alright?” He grins when she nods in anticipation and he can sense that she’s as eager to feed from him as he is to feed her.

               “Umm…I will too, don’t forget that part old man…”, Naoya finally releases his hands from her as he forces himself away and towards the door. “Be right back baby!” He blows her a kiss from the doorway but waits impatiently for Gojo to make his exit.

               Gojo now grabs her hands and with a serious face says, “Love, just be careful and wait for Toji. We will back after you have some time.” He smiles, “Don’t bite Choso in case it’s related to that other you ok?” He kisses her on the forehead gently before stepping back and taking in her comfortable and casual appearance while relishing on his recent lush memories of them. He glances to Choso, “If anything happens, make a portal to Naoya but we should be back really soon.

               Choso nods and is glad that there was reiteration over him being the source of her nourishment. ‘Gojo is far more intelligent than he typically lets on…’. After everyone leaves the room, the silence engulfs them. “I uhh…I guess I will take a shower now.”, and dutifully heads into the bathroom.

               “Wait there’s a trick!” Elska rushes past the door before he can close it in order to reach the faucet. The temperature designated knobs are actually reversed and she didn’t want Choso to fall victim to ignorance’s cruelty. Once adjusted, she stands up tall and smiles, “Now, you’re all set!”.

               “I tend to take lengthy showers, please do not be alarmed by this.” Choso feels the steam beginning to take form and is ready to wash the day away. She giggles and says “That’s totally fine, relax a bit.” Before switching on the fan and shutting the door behind her. As he undresses, he folds his new pajamas neatly on the counter, planning to put them back on when he’s finished. For a moment he freezes as this doesn’t make sense, how can he watch her while he bathes? ‘Oh, they were way ahead of me with this one…’. He forms his observer window, focuses it on her and leaves the curtain parted so he can check it from time to time.

               Elska isn’t sure why but as soon as the words, “Relax a bit” left her, she felt the urge to do so herself. “Well…he did say he takes long showers…and they’re no longer watching us…”, she walks over to Choso’s unintentional gift and honestly just wants to try it. After grabbing it, she cautiously makes her way back to the bed, dropping her new ace sweatpants to the floor before laying on her back. Her mind brings her back to Naoya and Satoru taking her and becomes flooded with arousal. “That really was…amazing.”. Her nimble fingers press the tiny rubber button located on the bottom of the little pink mouse and jumps with excitement when it turns on. ‘This shouldn’t take much time at all!’, and gleams to its vibrational impact. The thought of Naoya extracting her pheromones and orgasms while Satoru filled her mouth sends a sensation between her thighs before the vibrator ever reached its target. She self consciously listens for any sudden movement in the bathroom, wondering why she was really about to do this right now. ‘I just feel like I need to…’, but is trying to ignore the fact that she’s seen plenty of action for one day, at least normally. Once the silicone bullet reaches her clitoris, her body tenses up by the sensations it sends through her and she quietly gasps with a wide smile.

               Choso is rinsing his hair, enjoying the scented products that fall and mix into the water. ‘How does my hair feel this smooth after just shampoo?’, he’s amazed and feeling anew. After applying the thick conditioner, he decides to read the ingredients from the bottle located at the other end of the tub. When he grabs it, he turns to check his observer window to make sure everything is alright. “Oh my…”. His eyes are wide and the shock from what he’s seeing steals his attention thus causing the shampoo bottle to be dropped onto his foot. “OW!”.

               Elska hears the commotion and immediately closes her legs for cover. She’s panting lightly as she was already pretty close to being done with this test drive but still calls out, “Chos…Choso? Are you alright in there?!”. She sits up as she listens carefully for a response.

               “I uhhh…Yea!! I’m great! Just…dropped something!”. Choso feels his heart pounding through him and when he looks down can see his chest beat along with it. ‘I should’ve just told her the truth!’, he panicked though. He stands at the end of the tub where the water barely touches him as he breathlessly waits for a sign that she’d either stop or continue. ‘Does she not know I’m observing her?’. He watches her settle back into the bed but has failed to notice his instant erection until this point and whispers, “Damnit…”. When she places the mouse back on her sensitive areas, he can see her face twist in pleasure and cannot help himself. Choso begins to stoke his member as his human desires take over and shudders to the wonderful sensations it sends through him. Elska moans quietly but Choso is audibly attached to his window so he hears it. He watches her placement of the toy and is surprised to see that it’s used to for surface features rather than being for inside. He continues to pump his hand, gaining speeding even while the water threatens to stop his motions, moaning himself as he studies the visual before him. “Women…they’re such…beautiful creatures…”, he whispers through his small gasps.

               Elska is working towards her climax, intermittently edging herself when she feels she’s too close, not wanting to end the pleasure so soon. She thinks about how Toji always tries to stimulate her with his hands while he works himself into her, causing her toes to curl. ‘Toji and this would be incredible…’, she pictures him with his wings and fangs out, using his mass to pin her against the bed as he thrusts through her. In this fantasy, he would hold the mouse down against her, forcing her to endure the bliss while locking glowing eyes. “Holy…oh…yes…”, she whines out underneath her breath as she feels her moisture gather. She imagines him smugly smirk above her before saying, “Doll, you’re so fucking wet for me.”, but realizes that would be much more of a Satoru thing.

               Choso is no longer even bathing by this point but has opened the curtains further so he can still receive the warmth from the water as he continues towards his own relief. Every time her body arches or she whispers confirmation to how good she’s feeling, his hand increases speed by itself. He looks down to see how unbearably hard he is and bites his lip as his vision takes back to his technique. His mind is plaguing him as he doesn’t have a direct desire to sleep with her but she’s always the subject of his sexual thoughts. He imagines himself sitting between her knees, administering the mouse. “Mmmm…”, he groans while thinking of her furrowed brow and flush expression being the product of his placement. His hand grips his girth and he momentarily seethes and hisses to the building rise coursing through him. He whispers her name to his own dismay, feeling that it increased his ability to reach his orgasm. The water falling down his back has become cooler but it doesn’t deter him from this interesting experience.

               She is now daydreaming about Satoru’s aggressive behavior. ‘He would most definitely use this mouse as a tool to dominate.’, and the thought of him bending her over while making her hold it to herself almost makes her unravel. He’d say things like, “Awww love, what’s the matter? Can’t handle it?”, and she would have to respond to him before he’d smack her ass…but maybe she would keep quiet on purpose. He’d likely grab her by the throat and raise her up from behind so he could hear her clearly as he spreads her from within. She gasps to this and arches her body again as she nearly lost herself. Her eyes open widely though as she’s sure he would attempt anal next…but she wouldn’t necessarily fight him. ‘If I ever tell him that I actually like it, he would try it all of the time though…’, and the idea of him relentlessly trying to impale her in that manner slightly decreases her arousal.

               Choso is all but minutes away from being spent. He’s staring intently into the observer’s window and ignores her change in demeanor. Instead, he’s now wondering about this taste that women provide. He still isn’t sure you’re supposed to lick them there but the probability of it being allowed makes him imagine how he would. The expression on her face is back to be pleasant so maybe if he would take his tongue to the same spot where the mouse is located, he could cause this too. His eyes are closed at this point, while he hastily grips and rhythms with his hand so when she cries out, his imagination runs wild and he imagines inserting himself into her. That was a mistake though because in this moment, he’s releasing his contents all over himself and the tub while he fails to cease his motion.

               Naoya’s sweet but domineering nature saved the day. While reliving old memories of when she was his prisoner, she remembers the sexual tension that made her crave him even more. While envisioning them on their sides again, she smiles to the desperation felt that consumed her, making her take him in his sleep. “Oh…Naoyaaaaa…”. It really didn’t matter what he would try with her, Elska was likely to allow him wantonly, she trusts him fully in this realm. In her sexual dream however, he’s given glowing red eyes and golden wings. He would brush her hair aside while rocking his hips while they lay there but he’d also lean down to pierce her neck. “God pleeeeassee…”, she begs the universe to at least be able to simulate what his fangs would feel like. She cries out though in real time and releases a wave of pheromones as her legs tremble, the orgasm following immediately after. She lies there panting, not having removed the mouse from her hand, nor has she budged to change her position. Her eyes take to the little mouse though while she heaves and feels her arousal seeping out, “This was actually a wonderful gift Choso!”. She smiles and feels the cold chills that are result of her thin layer of sweat. She goes to sit herself up but finds she just doesn’t have the energy in this moment. Her eyes dart open as she recalls, “CHOSO! SHIT!”, having temporarily forgotten that he was in the bathroom, only a few feet away. She sits up tensely to gather herself as the door is pushed open. She screams, “DON’T!”. She feels so ridiculous as she knew Toji’s door no longer latched.

               Choso heard her scream and although he’s a mess he launches out of the shower. “Elska! What’s wrong?!”.

               Toji stands in the doorway first inhaling the scent before noticing Elska’s position and eyes the mouse next her on the bed. The fact that she wasn’t dressed on her lower half clearly gave it away. He feels himself get a little excited but its all but crushed as a wet and naked Choso barrels out of the bathroom door. “What the f…”.

               Elska quickly covers herself before Choso has a chance to turn around but she can’t help but stare at him against her better judgement. His body is so refined and built, his lower half just as impressive. She doesn’t feel any desire to experience him but she can still appreciate a good work of art. When their eyes meet, Choso turns beet red and flails his hands in an attempt to shield them from his usually hidden parts. “I thought something was wrong!”.

               “The fact that you’re out here butt ass naked is the something that’s wrong buddy…”, Toji glares at the being and huffs. Toji points his finger toward the door and says, “Go get some fucking clothes on! What were you doing in there to still be bathing?!”. A realization hits him and he growls at the possibility that Choso was relieving himself in his shower. “How the fuck were you planning on protecting her if you were in there the entire time?!”, Toji demands an explanation.

               Choso looks away from Toji and to the floor, “Well…I was watching her still…I just multitasked.”. He can feel Toji’s presence intensify immensely and wonders if he should have just lied and apologized.

               Elska folds over in the bed and curls up in embarrassment. ‘Does he mean…he watched me do that?”, she too mortified to ask or even look at either of them.

               Naoya now walks through the door, “CHO! WHAT THE FUCK!?”. He sees Elska hiding in the bed and after seeing his friend’s bareness, freaks out. “WHAT DID YOU DO!?”, he runs to Elska who’s actively deflecting any interaction and he assumes the worse. “Baby! What happened?!”, He then sees the pink mouse on the bed and feels his left eye twitch. He snatches it from beside her and charges Choso, “YOU THOUGHT TO USE THIS ON HER?!”. He sees the surprise in Choso’s eyes and even through his anger, realizes that he jumped to conclusions.

               Elska understands this is taking a wrong turn so she sits up again and says, “I used it on myself! Choso was just taking a shower and bolted out here when I screamed!”.

               Naoya stops now, being only about a foot away from Choso. “Baby, what caused you to scream?”, he now looks at the toy with a raised eyebrow, ‘Could it really be that good?’. Choso’s eyes meet it too and the being blushes further.

               “She screamed when I came through the door, boy, calm down.” Toji is now pinching the bridge of his nose in aggravation to the endless web of miscommunication that spins between them. He walks over to Naoya and steals the mouse. “You guys need to scram for a few. She needs to feed and I’m tired of there being a god damn peanut gallery.”.

               Choso immediately rushes into the bathroom to change as Naoya pouts while walking back to Elska. “Baby, I’m parking right next door and I’ll be back as soon as you are finished.”.

               “We actually are switching rooms tonight!” Gojo now strolls in, having listened from the hall. He comprehends everything that just happened, from the dual masturbation to the sad accusations that were pointed to Choso. If he hadn’t stayed behind though Megumi would’ve seen everything before being shooed away and that’s the only thing that bothers him. ‘Toji is going to have to handle that soon…’.

               “This is my room you silver fuck, I don’t want to move.”, Toji defends his messy territory that has suffered from the multiple people using it.

               Elska is further jolted by Satoru’s sudden appearance but calmly asks, “What are you talking about Sati?”. She’s now quickly donning her ace pants while trying her best to make it seem like she’s no longer bothered by what may have taken place with Choso. ‘I’m just glad that topic got skipped over…’.

               “We’re going to a bigger room, with a bigger bed.” Gojo winks at her as he’s still bent on proving to her that the additional company can be worked with. “But you two can still feed here, I’ll have Naoya and Choso help me set everything up!”. His eyes take to Toji, “Surely you can understand why this room’s defenses are no longer suitable…”. He glances to Elska and brings his palms up to the situation they’re in with an expression that says, “Think about it.”.

               “I swear if it’s poorly designed, I’m going to snap. Color scheme and layout is everything Gojo…”, Naoya rolls his eyes as he’s really not in the position to refuse lodging but wishes he didn’t have to share everything with his cousin and him.

               Toji howls, “You fucking broke the door in the first place you cunt!”. He never knows how far the silver shaman will go but is slowly wondering if there are any boundaries at all. Becoming further irritated, he starts to manually push everyone towards hall. “Get the fuck out!”. Naoya is still protesting to being forced to leave even as Toji shuts the door in his face, hearing his whining through the wood. “Jesus Christ…they’re such fucking handful…”.

               Elska giggles to Toji’s vexation but sits on her knees as the large man returns toward her, sitting on the bed.

               Naoya is still on the other side of the door, “Choso is in there you old fart!”.

               Toji’s eyes narrow to the bathroom but before he can say anything, Choso quickly races out with soaking hair and practically runs to the door leading to the hallway. He now sighs and slouches over on the edge of the bed, “Doll…sometimes it’s so much to navigate through…”, he looks to her, “…are you not overwhelmed by all of this?”. His hand finds it’s way to her cheek after he orients his body more towards her. They’re eyes respond to each other, him not knowing who’s began glowing first.

               “It is…a lot…”. She admits while nuzzling into his hand. “…but look at how you three loners are no longer alone.”, she means it and smiles genuinely as that part does lift her heart. She watches Toji scoot back onto the bed but to his knees and her teeth peer through her lips as she gathers he’s getting straight to it. With slow motion, she crawls over top of him until she’s perfectly seated in his lap and his arms are securing her body against him. Looking down from now overhead, she chuckles, “Just like our first time…”, and brushes his hair from his face as she happily takes in the details of his rugged features. “I’m really sorry about earlier Toji…I really wasn’t expecting Sati to take us away like that. I really wasn’t expecting any of it actually.”.

               Toji can sense her guilt and feels like he should address his prior purpose. “Doll, I was just worried Gojo was taking things too far…like before. I didn’t trust that he would have your best interest at heart which is why I was so angry.”. He lifts his chin so he can tuck her head underneath it while holding her, “I am with you no matter what, never forget that.”. Toji closes his eyes as he feels her relax and cackles, “Naoya already said he wasn’t going to do that again but I feel like Gojo will still try.”. He pulls her away and bends his neck to the side to give her full access with a smile.

               “You’re too good for me, Toji…”, she laments while eyeing his neck. Instead of immediately biting him though she turns his head back towards her for a deep and passionate meeting of the lips. He responds by send his tongue into her mouth, causing her to whimper as she grips his sleek black hair with her right hand while holding his throat with her left, not even meaning to. Both of their fangs form as soon as he breaks their lustrous kiss and he again positions his head to the side as she lowers her own. She can hear him groan as her teeth skip across the skin of his neck and right as she’s about to puncture him, Satoru’s presence can be felt.

               “LOVE WAIT!” He runs over to the bed as Elska didn’t seem to even flinch. “Choso made a valid point!”, Toji’s glowing eyes finally meet his so he continues, “If Toji has Titer energy in him, this is about to be another fucking catastrophe!”.

               Toji swiftly blocks Elska from his neck and rolls over so she’s pinned to the bed, being startled by her reaction.

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Tagging : @angelofthorr

[stilemawillow]

Romantic? More Like NO [Levi | Reader]

Prequel: Fairy Tale NOT Like

"Levi, I really am irritated right now." Hearing her voice from the female showers made him just as irritated because she might’ve been pretty but she had no tact and it was too early for him to get another headache.

"As if I don't fucking know that already. I'm irritated, too." He was leaning on the wall next to the door and leaning slightly to the side would expose her whole body to his eyes but it was a thing he - one, shouldn’t do and two, wasn’t interested in doing. He’d be lucky if Mikasa Ackerman didn’t show up for her early shower because if he were to be seen waiting on a grown-ass unknown woman by the door, he’d quickly go from Humanity’s Strongest Soldier to Humanity’s Biggest Pervert.

"You're not the one having to play a ninja around an army's headquarters." She snapped from the inside.

"Yes, but I'm the one who has to play the stupid ninja’s bodyguard around the headquarters of the army I'm supposed to be second-in-command in." He hissed in return, listening to the slowly decreasing sound of water hitting the floor.

"Just tell me one thing." The warmth was first, then he turned his head and the tip of his nose almost bumped into hers. Pupils dilating in surprise, his orbs followed the droplets rolling over her skin but his corssed arms stood ridig as if glued to his chest. "What am I going to wear now?" Her sweet voice was laced with fake innocence but her lips wore a small smirk. He snorted but kept quiet. "You're not going to give me any of your clothes, are you now?"

The situation was so messed up right now.

After he’d brought her the coffee, Levi had hastened to point out her stink and immediately after force her into the showers, dismissing her concerns on what she’d wear afterwards by telling her he had a plan. He, in actual fact, had not even an inkling of a plan. Every option he could think of was either humiliating, incriminating or straight-up perverted.

If he gave her his clothes and they were seen together, there would be assumptions. Her dress was already with the piles of laundry that would be washed today, stealing somebody else’s clothes was plain ridiculous, asking another female cadet for an outfit would lead to even more assumptions and making her sneak around the HQ in nothing but a towel was a scene out of a book Hanji would write. He considered finding clothes for her on his own but leaving her alone was too risky. And since the showers would start filling up soon, he had no choice but to take her with him.

"You're going to wear something. Follow me and be quiet." He ordered, heading down the hallway and looking around every time a sound erupted from a room. It could’ve been a snore, the shuffle of clothes or a blanket - it didn’t matter because Levi was paranoid. Then his heel made an unstable plank creak in the silent space and he mentally shat himself.

He was supposed to be a soldier, a former thug, flexibe and agile, and strong, but no--- he couldn’t even walk without making the floor creak like it would break. He held back a groan and resumed walking only to feel something pulling him back by the wrist. (Y/N)’s determined expression faced him the moment he turned back. He awaited her words with a thinning patience. They were making progress and she just had to stop him for God knows what.

"You do know that even if people see us together they wouldn't speak, right?" Her question - naive, stupid and anything but reasonable, made him want to facepalm against the wall.

"And how does that help us?” He frowned. They were so close to the staircase. Why did she have to stop and ask stupid questions?

"All I'm saying is you can make anybody who sees us keep their mouth shut.” She reasoned, making his brow twitch in annoyance. His voice, however, managed to stay quiet.

"It's not that easy."

"Because they’d talk about it behind your back?"

"This isn't even a---" His voice grew in volume as his patience ran out but his incoming outburst was quickly cut off by a muffled voice coming from behind the door they were standing next to.

"Armin, did you hear that?"

"Fucking shit." Levi cursed under his breath, exchanging a panicked look with (Y/N). That was Jean Kirstein’s voice. His brain went into overdrive  - they couldn’t run up the stairs, couldn’t wait to be caught here either.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the other side of the narrow hallway into the first room he saw, which was seemingly the last one in row. He hastily opened the door, gripping (Y/N) and feeling his heart on its way to burst. He wouldn’t allow to be caught with a half-naked woman by his own squad.

He heard her call his name as the door was shut - she was pressed against the wall, feeling her towel slip. She held her breath and the fabric fell to the floor, except she couldn’t pick it up since one of her hands was captive and the other was the only thing holding her upright and quiet. The raven-haired man was staring at the door but he would look at her sooner or later.

"I think I heard someone." Armin's voice sounded as he exited the room and looked around, three pairs of footsteps following close behind. (Y/N) couldn’t tell Levi not to turn - a whisper could ruin everything. So she’d keep quiet because the raven seeing her naked in the dark was better than them being found.

"Berthold, do you see anyone?" A masculine voice was heard, one that Levi recognised as Reiner Braun's.

"It's too early for this Reiner." Berthold stated quietly, probably trying not to wake the other cadets.

"I bet I heard someone, guys." Jean's voice sounded next and Levi knew he was fucking doomed. Four damn cadets were going to find him in a closet with a half-naked woman - great.

"Maybe the girls were just heading to the shower."

Levi turned around and his eyes widened. He could hear (Y/N) gulp, then he drew a sharp breath and bit back every vocal reaction which came to mind.

"Maybe we can get to see Mikasa today."

Realising that he’d been stopping her from covering herself, the male let go of her wrist and watched her shakily cover her breasts as her free hand began blindly searching for her towel.

"As if. Come on, Jean. If she doesn't kill you, Eren will try."

The cadets’ conversation was white noise to his ears, his eyes couldn’t leave (Y/N)’s body and his ears could only hear his blood rushing around his body at the sight.

"And maybe after that Corporal Levi will end you completely."

He caught the sound of his name but paid no attention to it, fixed on the woman who finally found the towel and attempted to hide herself. Only then did it occur to him his gaze brought her discomfort. He faced the other way quickly, momentarily stunned by his own rudeness.

"Why would the Corporal even care?"

He heard an almost audible sigh come from her lips once she was covered so he turned, watching her hands grip the upper part of the towel as her gaze avoided his eyes at all cost. Her previous confidence was nowhere to be found.

"He is in charge of Eren after all. If Eren ends up getting hurt during the fight, both the Corporal and Mikasa will beat you up. He's obliged to do it, while Mikasa..."

"Is Mikasa."

"Anyways, let's stop talking about this. Do you know the time?"

"We have time before breakfast."

"But the Corporal will punish us if we end up sleeping in."

"I’m with Berthold, let's go for the showers."

"No, we better sleep a little more."

He made a step in her direction, to which she tried to retract and her foot hit something which then dropped to the side with a loud clangour. Fucking bucket. (Y/N) looked at Levi like a deer in headlights and he, despite his stoic persona, related the same panic she did. He cursed under his breath.

"Did you all hear that?" Jean's startled voice reached their ears as they stood motionless as possible in the closet, fearful of doing as much as breathing.

"Is there an intruder?"

"Jean, come on. Who would sneak into the headquarters? They must be crazy or stupid. The Commander would make Corporal kill them or something." Reiner said and (Y/N) eyed Levi.

"Not knowing the Corporal and being stupid are vastly different - one is called being uninformed." Jean argued, much to Reiner’s dismay.

"And the other is called being crazy. Now let's just go to the showers."

(Y/N) was about to stifle a giggle when Levi’s reflexes acted - knowing when something wouldn’t go as planned. His hand covered her mouth and she held in a yelp as her balance was knocked off and her back hit the wall with a thud.

"Okay, I definitely heard that one! Is someone pranking us?" Jean's voice grew in pitch and volume, meaning he was approaching the closet.

"Jean, what’s all the fuss about?" Another voice (Y/N) didn’t recognise joined the conversation, to which she glanced at Levi in confusion, mouth still covered by his cold hand.

"The suicidal bastard was freed from his cell." Jean's mocking remark almost made (Y/N) snort.

"Hanji came to unlock me for showers and breakfast." The other voice responded just when (Y/N) picked up the unmistakable speech of her hyperactive friend. She felt herself tensing alongside Levi.

"Hello, kiddos! What's up?" Hanji greeted, to which Jean had an immediate reply.

"I heard a sound---"

"Jean is being delusional." Reiner cut off, setting the other boy off.

"No, I definitely heard something! Someone is sneaking around!"

"Who do you think is sneaking around the headquarters?" Hanji questioned curiously, clearly doubting the cadet’s accusations.

"I don't know! Probably a cadet who went to town. They do it often." Jean tried to reason with Hanji and the others, but they weren't ready to accept his seemingly delusional point of view yet.

"I know people do that, Jean. I do it to meet up with (Y/N) and the plank in front of Erwin’s office always creaks." The mad scientist complained and Levi made a mental note about Hanji sneaking out. And about the creaky plank. Armin and Eren went on to ask who (Y/N) was, which just prompted Hanji to rant. “An old friend of mine. She's extremely sweet! And such an eye-candy! Levi couldn't get his eyes off her yesterday!"

Levi couldn't get his eyes off her now either, but he wasn't going to let that information become public knowledge. He was sure she’d sensed it too - the sexual tension drowned by the panic and anticipation they felt.

"Corporal couldn't what?" Eren sputtered, almost choking in shock.

"What was Corporal Levi doing with (Y/N) yesterday?" Armin's voice rang, announcing to (Y/N) and Levi the erasure of Hanji’s brain-to-mouth filter.

"Oh, we went to that ball Eren was whining about! It was fun, Levi took (Y/N) as his escort, he had a suit, flowers and everything!" Levi would’ve facepalmed if possible, whereas (Y/N)’s discomfort grew to the point she contemplated giving his handsome face a slap and walking out of the closet. It would ruin only his reputation either way - but that was the problem.

The whole Survey Corps would suffer if their most valuable member was caught breaking the rules. His authority normally prevented people from badmouthing him but even that wouldn’t save him if rumours of him having a lover got out. It was something (Y/N) couldn’t allow - besides being interesting to her, he was also willing to land her a job.

"And what happened then?" The question derailed her train of thought and she was back in the dark closet, painfully pressed against the wall. She tried to change that by moving just a little and that was when the old forgotten bucket came back into play.

"Oh, well, Levi---"

(Y/N) gasped as her mouth was released and her foot slipped on the bucket - then Levi’s fast reflexes saved them a very painful fall by pushing their bodies back against the wall, except it cost them their low profile.

"Okay, that's it! Now everyone heard that one, right?!" Jean's voice echoed as the others shuffled about.

"You weren't lying after all." Hanji’s statement was heard over the shameful admittances of the other cadets confirming they’d finally heard it themselves.

"Is there someone... in that closet?" The words that exited Berthold's mouth made (Y/N)'s eyes fill with fear. Levi’s composure was also slowly starting to leave him.

"You know the only way to understand."

"Rock, paper, scissors - loser opens the door?"

Besides his composure, his self-respect evaporated at his own squad’s stupidity. He felt more humiliated listening to their problem-solving tactics than imagining himself getting caught with a half-naked woman in a closet. A few seconds of silence later, a small sigh left somebody’s lips, to which the duo in the closet exchanged worried glances.

"Armin, go for it." A voice was heard and said blond sighed again before asking:

"Why do I even have to---"

"Just do it." Jean insisted and the others hummed in agreement.

"You won't die."

"On three." Hanji announced.

Armin’s steps approaching the closet were heard. (Y/N) felt her heart was about to burst and Levi could already picture decades of reputation crumbling to the ground. Years of being a cold-hearted ass with a deadpan, years of fear and respect and not an ounce of regret.

"One..."

The woman met his gaze, feeling his fingers twitch in the slighest over her waist. She mouthed a small apology and he shook his head. He wanted to blame her for everything but he couldn’t stoop that low.

"Two..."

Her fingers were digging into his rigid shoulders when he closed his eyes. He didn’t want to look.

"... three!"

There was the opening of a door. Nobody was saying anything---

Thud.

Crash!

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

"Shit! That scared me." Jean's voice was just as muffled. Levi slowly opened his eyes to witness the confusion on (Y/N)’s face in the dark.

"It was just a racoon." At Armin’s statement, both their heads whipped back to look at the closed door with wide eyes.

"Mystery solved. At least Jean hasn't gone delusional yet." Hanji mocked cordially, making said boy give an exclamation of indignation. Everybody else was chuckling and (Y/N) and Levi hadn’t begun getting over their shock.

"Now let's go to the showers."

"Okay, okay."

"I'm going to visit Erwin. See you at breakfast, kiddos!" Hanji was off, her footsteps fading up the stairs.

"How did that racoon even get in there?" The boys discussed, voices dropping.

"I don't have an idea..."

Once their footsteps had faded down the hallway, Levi let go of (Y/N), deciding it was safe for them to go out. He dusted himself off and slowly opened the door.

"That was a close call." (Y/N)'s words made him sigh as they slipped back into the empty hallway. He noticed her voice had a sweet ring to it when she was nervous.

"Tell me about it." He snorted and observed the open door of the other closet, right next to their hiding spot.

"I'm sorry about that." Her apology was mumbled in mild shame as he clicked his tongue.

"I raised my voice. Whatever, let's just go." She followed him up the stairs, noting their luck and making him hum along in agreement - it was something he’d never know had made her knees feel like jelly. To her next question of what they would do now, he had an answer at the ready. "I'm bringing you to my office. We dress you up and send you off to town." There was a pause on her end, then a ‘why’ Levi considered rather stupid. "Because you can't stay here."

"Did you forget why you brought me here yesterday?" Her inquiry made him frown but it was just so it wouldn’t betray his ‘oh shit’ face. "Maybe because I had no home at the time?" She pressed further, making him curse as he turned to face her. “You did forget.” Her blunt statement made him snort, rolling his eyes and deciding to play it cool.

"And what of that?" He asked, annoyed and with his arms crossed.

"Well, it intervenes with your plan. And you promised me a job. I can find myself a place to stay but it won’t happen fast, so I’m sorry for being insolent but I’m going to hold you to your word.” Hands on her hips, she was glaring and he avoided looking anywhere but her eyes. She was right and he knew it.

"Let's just go to my office. Discussing this in the middle of the hallway is no good." He commented with a click of his tongue, watching her lips purse as her eyes narrowed. However, she still complied. They passed Erwin’s office, tactfully avoiding the creaky plank and soundlessly slipping in his office. A sigh left his lips as he locked the door.

"Now. You’ll need a plan." (Y/N)'s serious voice helped him shake off the relief he felt. He rolled his eyes, annoyance brimming. He wanted to avoid thinking of a new plan, and the complications that would surely come with it.

"You still need clothes, so we'll find you some. And after that...” He trailed off, making her eyebrow quirk as she waited for his brain to think of the best course of action. “I suppose I’ve got only one choice.” He concluded with a sigh, leaning back against his desk and contemplating. Rumours could spread but it was the only way to keep his word whilst creating the least misunderstandings. “I have to introduce you to everybody.”

"Ready?"

"Never been, never going to be. Let's just do this." Her statement evoked a snort from him as he suppressed the chuckle at the back of his throat. She seemed more nervous than him and it was amusing to say the least. Still, he held out on giving her advice on how to fix it because something told him she wouldn’t manage either way.

The raven-haired male entered the mess hall and she walked at his side; suddenly there were gazes on them, on the baggy clothes she wore that kind of looked to be his size, and whispers slithering round the room. He ignored everything and approached his squad’s table, sitting down and watching before him his usual cup of tea whilst his squad stared at him in bewilderment.

"Uh, Corporal Levi... who is she?" Eren’s hesitant question made Levi glare at the brunet - he was a tad bit anxious but he needn’t admonish his subordinates verbally because of it.

"I'm a friend of Levi's. (Y/N), nice to meet you all." The woman flashed them a smile and voiced a casual introduction before Levi could even begin to speak. He wouldn’t, however, get angry at her, she seemed to be doing well.

"Corporal, I made your tea, it's a bit cold, but---"

"It's fine, Eren." Levi cut him off, taking a sip from mentioned beverage and sighing. So far so good. He briefly glanced at the superiors’ table where he usually sat, finding his Commander’s insistent gaze on him. He wanted to avoid everybody who knew (Y/N) but an encounter was inevitable so he was only stalling even though he was well aware Hanji had already seen them walk in and had probably informed Erwin and Mike of their presence. 

"So, Corporal, how did the ball go yesterday?" Mikasa asked boredly while Eren pouted on her left, disappointed still that he hadn’t been invited. Levi and (Y/N) exchanged an alarmed look but neither gave out their concern. The Corporal looked back at his squad: Jean and Eren were impatient to hear his answer, Mikasa was quiet as per usual, Armin was silently observing, Connie and Sasha were gorging on their food and Ymir and Christa were whispering of other topics.

"Not that it's your business but it was shitty. Eren, you can stop whining about not getting invited, it wasn’t worth it either way." The raven took a sip from his cup, watching the four reactions his words caused. Eren’s face dropped as he dismissed his frustration on the matter, Mikasa visibly became suspicious and Armin’s gaze grew uneasy due to the fact he might’ve already pieced everything together and, finally, (Y/N) snorted with laughter and coughed to cover it up. “What seems to be so funny?” Levi faced her with a scowl.

“That was a complete lie, sir. You almost got drunk, you watched an eating contest and you were hit on multiple times by gorgeous noble ladies. I'm afraid you liked your night out. " (Y/N) explained with a smirk, making Jean and Eren gape as Mikasa and Armin's eyebrows raised to the tops of their foreheads. He glared at (Y/N), noting how she’d omitted to mention herself during the story she told - it was something that ticked him off. And he had no idea why.

"Not like you're one to talk - you did get drunk, you fainted, you danced terribly and about half the males in the hall were undressing you with their eyes." He retorted and she looked at him, visibly surprised, while his subordinates curiously observed their exchange.

"Was that a subtle compliment or just a horrible attempt at an insult?" She asked with a terribly attractive smirk, which wasn't good for his moody insides as of lately. His stomach did loops at random ever since he met her, his heart would sometimes skip a beat and his skin would get irritatingly itchy when she touched him. He couldn’t go on to think normally, an image of her smile always had to interrupt him and it was fucking annoying - this whole thing.

"Neither - it's summing up your night there." He clicked his tongue and watched her smile - exactly the thing he didn’t need after the kind of inner monologue he had.

"Whatever it is, I don't mind it. Although I must thank you for making my night so nice." She added at the end, making his eyes narrow. (Y/N) bit her bottom lip to stop herself from grinning, but it was inevitable and the fact she tried to hide it put Levi at a loss for words. Staring at her face and her eyes there was hardly anything for him to think besides:

Fuck, I think I want to kiss this woman right now. His eyes widened at the notion and his rational mind slapped him so hard he suppressed the urge to turn his head to the side in reality. Instead, he only shook it and cursed himself multiple times while sipping on his tea.

"I've done nothing deserving of your gratitude." Levi mumbled in a cold voice once having calmed down while (Y/N) only smiled at him, this time without saying anything.

He wondered whether he’d actually taken a liking to a woman he met just the night before. He knew nothing of her yet he couldn’t simply ignore her like he usually would - he wanted to learn a bit more. He didn’t think himself a naive fool as to let her influence him to this extent - but then again she couldn’t be a witch either. Had it been any other woman, things would’ve been different - and then it clicked. Things were like this because it was her, because she affected him and because she interfered with how he usually thought and acted. He didn’t know why but one thing was clear and it was something he’d never admit to himself, Hanji, (Y/N), Erwin or anybody else. He’d die before saying it out loud.

"Corporal is everything alright?" Jean Kirstein's voice snapped him out of his thoughts and softened his expression. Levi looked up with a sigh.

"I have something to do." Groaning inwardly, he pushed himself off the bench and stood up, meeting (Y/N)’s worried gaze and hastening to ease her concern. "You stay here and chat with them or whatever. I'll be back." He headed towards Hanji, Erwin and Mike. Before doing anything else, he had to distance himself from (Y/N) and cease all contact with her after his part of the deal was done. For that to happen, he had to talk to his Commander. He’d promised her a job and, under the man who’d loved her or not, he’d get it for her.

"You're in." He stated coldly with crossed arms.

"I am?" She was literally beaming.

"I already said it, idiot. Are you fucking deaf?" He snapped but her grin was still and so was her posture.

"This is great! Now I get to spend time with my friends, I have a job and a home. Thank you so much.” (Y/N) piped excitedly and he only snorted.

"Anyway, until we find a free room for you you’ll be sharing with somebody.” He stated absentmindedly, feeling just a bit ticked off on this particular topic. Not that he had a reason to feel irritation because he’d known her for a day and she didn’t mean anything to him. That was how things should’ve been.

"Hanji?" (Y/N) guessed as she took a seat in the chair in front of his desk and he looked at the papers before him, pretending to read and trying his hardest not to pay attention to her. He reasoned why she wouldn’t be staying with Hanji and she went on to ask if it would be him she’d share a room with. He almost let out a snort and answered her question with a cold ‘no’. “Then who?” She pressed curiously, making him grit his teeth. He didn’t understand what he was so angry with. Maybe himself.

"Erwin."

"You're kidding me." She blurted out, to which he glared at her. She didn't seem overjoyed by the fact she was about to spend an unknown period of time with the handsome, tall and successful man that had feelings for her, instead she looked confused.

"Do I look like I enjoy joking around?" His questioned was a hiss and his eyes were cold and unforgiving. Her brows twitched.

"But Erwin’s the Commander, it’ll be troublesome for me to stay with him." (Y/N) reasoned, (e/c) hues gleaming as she spoke.

"He volunteered to take you in. Guess his feelings aren’t entirely gone." Levi commented after giving a spiteful click of the tongue, making (Y/N)'s eyes narrow at his visage.

"And how do you feel about that?" She inquired curiously, almost as if seeking confirmation on a topic she knew the answer to. The question ticked him off.

"What does that have to do with me?" He was playing unemotional and oblivious - he knew it had a little if not a lot to do with him but he refused to admit it. She shrugged, stating she’d just asked, and, without thinking at all, he got ahead of himself. "It doesn't make me feel anything. Did you expect me to argue with my Commander over you? Assert myself as the person who shelters you? If anything, I feel relieved to finally get you off my case. Whatever fantasies you might be harbouring, the reality is that I escorted you to a ball because I needed somebody and now you may go next door to let Erwin instruct you on your job."

Levi's scowl may have been terribly scary, but on the inside, he was on the verge of hitting himself because of how unreasonably rude he was being to a woman he thought he felt something for. (Y/N)'s reaction wasn't one of shock, nor one of heartbreak - it was one of deep indifference. And indifference was a mask he used all too often to let himself be fooled by it. She was offended and hurt as she stood up and headed to the door, then, with her hand on the doorknob, she turned her eyes to him.

"Just for the record - I expected nothing from you and I harbour no fantasies, you're right when you say Erwin still has feelings for me, but you're wrong when you say you’re impartial. Even if you don't like me, I have to say I took quite the liking to you." He could almost hear how her voice broke at the last word. "I’m just sorry I won’t have the chance to say it to your face as a woman instead of a stupid peasant."

The door closed after her, leaving behind the voice which had betrayed her upon the word ‘peasant’. If he’d known more about her, he would’ve realised how it hurt her to say it because that’s what she’d been her whole life - a faceless nameless stupid peasant. But he didn’t know. He leaned back in his chair after realising he’d tensed with the intention to stand and go after her. Shoulders slumping, he groaned and closed his eyes at the thought of having made her cry. He was getting a headache.

"A lovers quarrel a day after your first meeting. Fucking way to go." He praised himself mockingly and wished to endure the worst headache in existence if it would give him the chance to fix this situation. It was an unrealistic wish but he wanted it nonetheless. He tried beating it into his head that he’d known her for a day but he wanted to see her smile again and it was a pity he probably never would.

He started this conversation so angry and ended it so regretful that it was a pitiful thing to watch.

"Is this your way of saying 'sorry'?" She asked with disbelief as he looked at her with pleading eyes.

"You could say so." He nodded weakly and she snorted.

"It's not romantic at all." She placed her hands on her hips and his brows furrowed as he glared at her.

"Is it supposed to be?" He inquired and she smirked slightly. He hadn’t realised how much he missed that - it had been a goddamn month since it had been directed to him last.

"Of course, after all the indirect insults you threw at me."

"If it makes you feel better if I was still a thug, I'd want to fuck you senselessly." His deadpan statement was an attempt at brightening the mood and it brought him so much more when she began laughing - a month since he’d heard that one too.

"Enough of a compensation. But I don’t get why before is different from now since you’re the same person." Her objection made his eyes narrow - of course they weren’t much different in nature but he couldn’t let himself rush into something he hadn’t had ever. He didn’t need love and support - he’d been fine without them until now. Sex was another thing he could get but preferred not to because she, unlike him, probably connected it to something more emotional. 

"I have boundaries now and I’m more self-conscious." She snorted with laughter once more, though he would be surprised to hear why.

"Of what - the perfect body, the flawless face, the smooth voice or the heart of gold under all the piled-up bad experience?" Her mocking question made it hard for him to distinguish whether she’d meant to tease or compliment him. Maybe both - it sounded like her.

"Of the fact I’m far from flawless yet I'm supposed to be a role model to young cadets. Of the fact I fight and promote that others die as they fight. Of the fact I’m worshipped by kids who don’t really know me, kids I’ll probably outlive." His voice was low and deep, tired, morose. Silence followed. Then (Y/N) nudged his shoulder and he watched her empathetic smile. She couldn’t say anything to make him feel better. "Does this mean you accept my apology?"

"Of course. Who can resist when it’s obvious you’re trying so hard?" (Y/N) chuckled when the raven glared at her but quickly calmed down, only to glance shyly at the ground right after. "I'm sorry, too. I rushed to snap back at you."

"You've nothing to apologise for, I deserved it.” He countered, making her blush slightly before she patted his shoulder with a smile.

"Since we're going to be seeing each other often, let's talk when something like this happens again, alright?" Levi rolled his eyes before nodding - way nonchalant than the furious ‘yes’ pushing at his lips. The small ‘fine’ he uttered earned him one of her grins. His stomach took a turn. He focused on his heartbeat - either it hadn’t skipped or he’d been lucky enough not to have heard it. "But next time be a bit more romantic." She joked whilst getting up, to which he only glared.

"Romantic? More like no thanks. I’m not romantic and will not attempt to become romantic." He stated coldly as they walked out the mess hall and headed towards their respective rooms.

"I can teach you." She suggested with a small shrug and he snorted at her.

"As if you're any better."

"You don't have a way of knowing. I may just be a hidden romantic." (Y/N) flashed him yet another terribly attractive smirk and it would've been a lie to say it didn’t make his heart beat faster but he was adamant not to admit it.

"Or I may just be the princess of the walls." He teased, his voice rid of all emotion. The woman next to him was still able to sense his sarcasm. He rolled his eyes and she slapped his shoulder playfully, laughing and feigning offence - it ended in vain. Maybe he could learn to accept the fact he regarded her in such a way after a few months. Just a few. And maybe if he got the chance he’d tell her too. Or not. He was fine with just watching her smile and , by god, if somebody took that from him he would kill to get it back.

Such determination was so him in spite of the topic, he never understood how all of this became so natural to the point it happened every day.

[aizawaskittenwhore]

internal affairs

pairing: shota aizawa x poc!reader

words: 5.6k (LMFAOOOO I GOT CARRIED AWAY ENJOY) lowercase vv intentional

warnings/kinks: alcohol, swearing, degradation, praise, spit if you squint, breeding kink???ish sorta kinda yeah, begging, use of the pet name kitten, bondage, caught while masturbating

synopsis: aizawa thinks sex is generally a waste of time and energy. after finding you, (his close friend and coworker) in a...compromising position one night when he’s returning something to your dorm, he learns some information that has him wanting to waste some time with you..and energy. ;)

a/n: it’s been forever since i’ve written smut let alone with a poc reader so go easy on me LMFAOOOO

nsfw below the cut, let’s get it!

shota aizawa could, honestly, live without sex.

he just didn’t see the necessity of it, all the exhaustion and sweat just for a sudden rush of dopamine that lasts all of a minute before the stickiness sets in. before exhaustion settles over every muscle and renders you immobile, confined to the infamous postcoital wet spot while you make plans to wash your sheets—

as soon as you can regain control of the burn in your lungs, that is.

in between teaching during the day, patrolling in the evenings while still managing to grade papers, establishing lesson plans, taking care of his cat yuki and occasionally having to watch over his more “at-risk” students (cough midoriya cough) sex just didn’t take enough priority in his life for him to be interested in it. his right hand did the job just fine most nights, and he didn’t see the need to involve another person when it came to something he was more than proficient at handling by himself. he had no shame in the way he chose to live his life, it was practical and didn’t interfere with any of his responsibilities; a perfect setup.

at least, until he told you this same information over drinks one friday.

“please say you’re joking.” you chuckle, brows aloft in amusement. your fingertips dance along the rim of your shot glass before you raise it to your lips, the bitter and potent sake you ordered beginning to blossom warmly across your cheeks. “i’m serious. the hell would i gain from having some complete stranger try to learn how to please me when i can just do it myself?” aizawa queries, index finger and thumb taking residence along the upper neck of his beer bottle, grimacing harshly as he takes another swig. “i always get this shit every time we come here, and every time it’s always terrible.” he sets the bottle to his left, reaching for a shot glass instead to wash down the acrid taste. the bar is moderately populated today, with other pros scattered among tables and booths while engrossed in their own conversations; the background noise serving as the perfect buffer for the x-rated nature of your conversation.

you normally hate drinking after work, it always made you sluggish for the rest of the night, but aizawa owed you a favor after you took on the grading process of 1-a’s exams while he went out on patrol a few nights ago. he hadn’t wanted to ask so much of you as you were already training class 1-b and doing presentations for general studies that week, but after seeing the state of exhaustion the man was in you’d insisted, suggesting he get the bill next time the two of you hung out to make up for it. “but don’t you get tired of it? you know....masturbating?” you pry, right hand coming up to make a crude jerking motion to emphasize your point. “ i mean...you already know what you like, and the quickest way to get yourself there. there’s no exploration, no variety, you don’t get to really try anything new.” a teasing smile already settled across your lips.

aizawa falters for a moment, mouth pulled into a tight stance that signals his contemplation. head low, shoulders hunched, appearing to deeply ponder your question and how to answer it. you worry, for a moment, that you may have overstepped in your attempt to get a rise out of your quiet friend. however, worry soon liquifies into a fierce heat as a low chuckle rattles through him; shota glancing up at you through rebellious strands of hair that, regardless of his quirk, never seem to stay in place. “and what, y/n , would you happen to know about sexual exploration?” he shoots back, two slender fingers and a calloused thumb sending another shot down his throat with ease.

you flush, all your nerves on high alert as his rich, onyx irises seem to detect the growing arousal settling between your thighs, pleased at the reaction his question emitted. “i-i’m just saying that it’s got to get boring sometimes...just doing the same old routine whenever you’re in the mood!” you stutter, clearing your throat after you choke on the last syllable of your sentence. “that wasn’t my question.” he remarks, eyes slicing through any attempt at keeping your composure, yet you don’t budge.

“well, if you just have to know aizawa -“ you drag out the final consonant to mock his inquisitive nature, before continuing your tangent, “-sex doesn’t always have to be about the orgasm. i mean sure, it’s a pretty fucking fun part of it, don’t get me wrong, but it’s the foreplay, the newness of being with someone you haven’t been with before that really just...ties it all together. figuring out what they like, having them explore what you like, letting them take you in new and different ways...” you trail off, a blush now having settled across your cheeks, albeit impossible to clock thanks to the deep brown reach of your skin complexion.

“it’s worth the effort, is what i’m sayin’. you never know, you might like things that you didn’t think you would...like getting tied up or spit on or something..” you finish, now feeling his gaze settle over you like a blanket fresh out of the dryer. you quickly busy yourself with thanking your bartender as she slides you the tab, trying checking out the damage so you wouldn’t have to make eye contact with aizawa after that very honest admission. he quickly swipes the little book from your reach, depositing the black card inside with minimal resistance and returning the tab to its original position with a “don’t. i owe you, remember?”

damned cat-like reflexes.

fuck pro-hero training.

fuck the growing amount of slick saturating (and ruining) the simple maroon panties you’d chosen when getting ready for work today.

and most of all, fuck shota aizawa for being able to make your blood run hot by paying a fucking tab and giving you a look or two.

“right. thanks, by the way. but if i can’t get up for that meeting nezu’s holding tomorrow, i’m blaming you.” you’re hoping a bit of humor will distract you from the way your body is overheating from being within such close proximity to him, and the way your core is pulsing around nothing as if it were fiending for his presence. “not my fault you’re a lightweight, so blame me all you want sweetheart.” shota dryly rebounds, a mirthful smile on his face in response to the way you roll your eyes and suck your teeth, flipping him off.

“if you wanted to fuck me, you could’ve just asked.”

you’d pale, if you could.

your jaw collapses, eyelashes batting double time while you struggle to process what the fuck just came out of his mouth. six seconds go by before you begin babbling, voicing your opposition to his prior statement with phrases such as “wait wait wait, what did you sayyyy?” and ”bye because that didn’t even come out my mouth i-“

while he just...laughs. he finds your attempts to clarify your alleged non-existent sexual attraction to him hilarious, and even mentions that he finds it adorable as the two of you begin to make your way back to the teachers’ dorms. he holds the door open for you as you head inside, chuckling to himself as you continue to playfully curse him out while you walk to the women’s side of the building.

that was seven hours ago.

it’s currently 12:47am, and you’re struggling to catch even a wink of shuteye. you’re starting to regret having that sake earlier, since alcohol always fucks with your sleep schedule, but that isn’t what’s keeping you up tonight.

no, no, that would happen to be the unprofessional and honestly straight up shameful thoughts you’re having about your friend and coworker, shota. vivid images of those slender fingers sliding into you one by one, each one filling you more than the last, float past your lids every time you close your eyes. daydreams of his tongue on your clit, tracing patterns into the sensitive nerves while he calls you his good girl, his kitten, his slut, hands forcing your thighs apart as they shake from each and every time you cum around those devilish lips of his. fantasies of his capture weapon binding your hands behind you, fingers dangling helplessly while his hand rests on the small of your back to serve as leverage for each and every time he slides in. face pressed into the mattress as he fucks into you slowly, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of having him so deep so quickly. voice hoarse, tone pleading when you beg him to take you deeper, harder, promising to take it like a good girl would if he would just keep hitting that spot that makes your toes curl, yes right there, fuck-

you flip your pillow over in an attempt to cool the sweltering heat below the waistband of your panties, but it’s no luck. you should've been asleep two hours ago. staring hopelessly at the ceiling, lost in your mind as you watch the streetlights’ beams flicker through your window, streams of light disturbed by nearby tree branches. right hand slowly sliding down your body, from your breasts to the curves of your waist before settling right on the top of your panties. your fingers begin to flutter above your dripping core.

‘this is wrong. i shouldn’t do this.’ you chide yourself, but your body has already made up it’s mind.

and soon a cord wound so tightly within your body it could suffocate you...snaps.

the tip of your middle finger dips down to your pussy to collect the slick gathered there, and you groan at the sheer amount of it.

he really got you fucked up.

thinking of how he would tease, you circle your throbbing clit, touch feather light to the point where it feels like borderline torture. middle finger and ring finger conjoined to shallowly dip inside you once, twice, then three times before filling you completely.

but it’s not enough.

it’s not him.

you sigh at the way the tips brush against your g-spot, beckoning them forward until you physically arch into your hand as though it were connected to the subject of your little self love session.

“fuck...”

shota’s pov

he’d taken a short break from his current grading session to stretch, and grab a small snack when he noticed it.

you’d left your id tag with him when you’d turned in for the evening, as the two of you had used his id to get on to school grounds since your hands were full with your work bag, your purse, and takeout from the bar. he must have forgotten to give it back to you after you asked him to hold it, he was too busy admiring how cute you looked while trying to prove you didn’t want to fuck him.

not that he would mind if you did, of course.

he’d developed something of a crush on you over the past few weeks since you’d been working more closely together as hero course teachers, and he got to know you outside of a strictly work environment.

you’re funny, intelligent, clever (which is a turn on for him since he needs someone he can bounce off of), and it doesn’t hurt that you’re easy on the eyes.

really, really easy on the eyes. fuck.

he scratched the back of his neck as he felt the familiar flush begin to creep up his face, hoping the pain would will away the consistent hard-on he got whenever he focused too much on your smile, or the way your shoulders shake when you laugh, or the curve of your hips and how they look like they would be a perfect fit for his vice grip as he eased you onto his dick, looking you right in the eyes before drilling up into you. eyes shimmering with such pretty tears from how sensitive she was, neck littered with marks from his earlier ministrations, voice shaky as she begged him to fill her, pump her full of every last drop cause she’s been so so good-

‘damn it shota. just go give her the fucking tag, she’ll need it tomorrow morning.’ he snapped internally, looking at his tented black sweats with dismay. it took everything within him not to make a sly comment on how getting himself off is never boring when it’s to a different fantasy of you each time, but if there’s nothing else he prided himself upon, it was his self discipline.

forcing himself to remember the time he caught hizashi shaving his left testacle and only the left one to make his erection less obvious, he grabbed her id and his own, and made his way to the women’s wing of the hero course dorms. it was old school, men weren’t allowed on the women’s side and vice versa on campus, however with this being the hero course some were granted special admin privileges should there ever be an emergency.

he happened to be one of them.

making quick work of finding your room, he leaned against the threshold, left arm poised to knock when he heard a soft hiss. a little rustling, and another sound, indiscernible thanks to your door.

“fuck...”

body stiffening at the swear, he paused, wondering if maybe you had been hurt or perhaps injured. it was in his nature to, despite his sarcastic and faux-apathetic disposition, be a hero no matter what. using what little force he could in an attempt to not frighten a possible intruder or make a bad situation worse, shota silently swung your door open and scanned the room for any possible threats.

he didn’t find any.

instead he found you, lacy black panties around your left ankle as you curled your middle and ring finger inside of you, moans bubbling out of your throat with a hand twisting and pinching your pretty brown nipples as you went. still completely unaware of his presence you sigh before letting out the prettiest and neediest little whine that went straight to his dick.

“mm...shota..please baby~“ you keen, fingers quickening their pace inside of your pussy, the streetlights from the nearby sidewalk casting a copper toned glean on the strings of slick connecting your fingers to the soaked paradise that was between your thighs. he freezes, thinking you’ve noticed his presence when it hits him-

you were fucking your fingers as if they were his own.

you’d said his name.

you wanted to fuck him just as badly as he wanted to fuck you.

and despite being a pro and having been in life threatening situations, instances where he’s had to make split second decisions without worrying whether they were right or not....here he has absolutely no idea what to do. he feels dirty, watching you in such a...compromising situation. even though you just said his name with about two-

now three-

-soaked fingers sliding in and out of your cunt, he knows he shouldn’t be here. out of respect for you, he takes about two steps backwards and tries to leave the room as silently as he came in, willing the universe to just let him have this as a pleasant memory for when he gets into bed tonight. but, like most times in his 31 years of existence, he can never get a moment of peace.

so he manages to trip over your shoes from earlier right as he was about to hit the hallway.

oh, and drops the id tags, of course.

y/n’s pov

the noise sends a chill through each and every nerve of your body, eyes firing open only to be greeted with the sight of a very flustered aizawa vehemently cursing out a pair of your boots, two id tags pooled at his feet. “what the fuck?!” digits wrenched from your body and hands clawing for your duvet in a last ditch attempt to preserve what little modesty you had left. “i- i just came to give you your id, and i heard you swear so i thought you might’ve been hurt or something, i didn’t see anything!” aizawa spat apprehensively, while simultaneously cursing his dick for choosing this particular moment to get incredibly aroused, and thanking himself for tucking his erection into his waistband earlier before he’d walked over in case he ended up talking to you. “oh my god. oh..my god i am so fucking sorry i-i know it was wrong and i totally understand if you don’t wanna be friends anymore just please don’t tell nezu i really really love this job-“ you begin to wail, teardrops nestling into your waterline before finally pooling over and breaking you, causing you to cry even more.

“i’m not mad at you y/n.” aizawa coos softly.

“-and i know i crossed so many lines and it’s selfish for me to ask that of you but i don’t know what i would do without UA-“

“y/n.” he calls, sitting beside you on the pillow soft mattress, his capture weapon pooling to the floor and briefly reminding him he’d brought it with him to begin with.

“-and if i’m being honest i’ve had a crush on you for forever and i was just too much of a coward to come and tell you myself so instead of being a woman about it i kept having these fantasies and i’m so fucking sorry aizawa-“

“shota. call me shota.” he tilts your chin up with his right hand so he can see your pretty brown orbs swimming in tears, before taking his left hand and thumbing away the still-wet tear tracks. you blink away your tears, brows furrowing in confusion at why he’s not angry, why you’re not packing up your dorm and turning in your letter of resignation right now. “it sounded so pretty when you’d said it earlier, why stop now?” he murmurs, those powerful ebony eyes taking you in by the gallon, half lidded as he looks you up and down.

so he did see everything.

and he wasn’t mad.

and you swear on everything you love that you just saw his length twitch through those black sweats, so he definitely shared the same sentiment.

“s-so you’re sure you’re not mad?” you sniffle, hands reaching to cover his as you lean into his lithe form, needing to feel his warm and comforting embrace. “positive.” he looks down at the way you’re nuzzled into his chest, arms shifting so that they’re wrapped around your back as you let out a sigh of relief. he softly taps you after a few minutes, needing to shift to a more comfortable position as his dick is pressing into his stomach this way, and it’s only making him firmer.

“can...can i kiss you?” he asks gingerly, heart fluttering at the way your eyes meet his and your head slowly nods, fingers fumbling to find his hand so you can hold it. his lips slot against yours, moving tenderly at first before the kiss begins to increase in intensity, your tongue moving fluidly with his, pulling away only to breathe before diving back into one another.

“those pretty lips taste so sweet...makes me wonder if you’re sweet all over, hm?”

you preen at the compliment, body craving his touch, his energy, his undulations, everything about him.

“tell me you don’t want this, and we’ll stop.” he mutters against your neck, soft kisses quickly turning to him sucking marks into your collarbone. it drove him insane, watching the reddish purple hues blossom across your skin mingling with the mocha of the rest of your body.

you didn’t have any intention on stopping though.

not for a fucking second.

“please...need you so bad.” you sigh close to his ear, taking his earlobe between your teeth and dipping a hand between the two of you to paw at his throbbing length. that seemed to do the trick just fine, his pulse spiking before he flipped the two of you with a quickness you’d only seen him use in battle. hands reaching for the nape of his neck as he tugged his shirt over his head, you watched in awe; you’d known sho was fit as he patrolled nightly, along with the consistent training he’d engaged in with his students. you just didn’t expect a simple long sleeve sweater to give way to toned abdominals, slender yet powerful arms in addition to a thick black happy trail that dipped below his waistband.

it wasn’t until he’d tugged down the lace covering your slit, (so hard it ripped), that you realized just how much he craved you. gazing at your core intently he spread you apart with his middle and forefinger, eyes nearly rolling out of his head with how you were dripping so much for him. you tried to shift your hips in an effort to get him to do something, anything, but that was shut down with a hand forcing your right thigh outwards and spreading you even wider.

“no no. keep them spread. let me watch you try to keep them open while you’re shaking...let me watch you fall apart..” he demands, head diving between your thighs to lap at your aching clit like a man starved. your legs rise only to settle on his shoulders, ankles crossed behind his head while your toes curl in euphoria. there were men before him, but none of them ever took care of you like this, never looked you in the eyes as their fingers started to curl in just the right places, never sighed in content at your taste as their eyes rolled back. never pried themselves away from your cunt just to add a pornographic amount of spit to your southernmost lips, strings of saliva connecting your twitching hole to his deliciously long tongue.

shota was unlike any man you had ever met before.

and that was what made him so intoxicating.

“ah..s-shota, please-” you whine, sensing your climax within reach. “please what, kitty? i won’t know if you don’t tell me.” he remarks, dipping back down to suck harshly at your swollen bud as he adds a third finger, length throbbing at the way you arch into his tongue. “m-make me-ah-make me...feel good...please sho” you stutter, face burning. “mm. i thought i was already making you feel good love? unless...there’s something else you want..” he trails off, smirking. your thighs are quivering now, muscles burning as you strain to keep them from crushing shota’s head, although with the way he’s devouring your pussy whole right now he doesn’t seem to mind one bit.

“i need you..to make me cum..” you whimper, winding a few fingers into his unruly mane of hair while your other hand settles above your mouth, trying to hide the obvious embarrassment on your face from being so exposed.

“well why didn’t you say so baby? after all, you did exactly what i told you to, and good girls get whatever they ask for.” he grins before working double time to bring you to the edge, hero stamina and strength coming out in full force with the way his fingers never cease in their abuse on your g-spot, refusing to quit until your thighs finally tighten around his head and your breath catches. his tongue replaces his fingers and you briefly pout at the slight change in fullness, but it doesn’t matter the second he coils his tongue upwards and rubs into your sensitive bud at a steady pace. you cum all over his face, and you never thought you’d see such a typically serious and stoic man look so...elated, a permanent beam stuck to him with superglue as he swallows as much of your essence as he can. chest heaving, body weightless, you sit up.

you gently coax him back up your body, shota’s arms caging you to your bed as you kiss him deeply, fingers fumbling to palm him through his sweats. “s’ my turn...wanna show you how much i like you..”

he nods, opting to trade places with you whilst helping you slide his sweats and boxers down his thighs, length springing up in anticipation. you’d had a inkling of how big he was from small glances on occasion, but you didn’t account for a solid eight and a half inches down your esophagus. his dick was pretty, a few veins running up and down the length of it, and tip just as pink as his kiss-swollen lips. the only thing that intimidated you was how thick it was. but you’d cross that bridge when it came to it.

saliva floods your mouth and you grasp his dick at the base, eyes wide as you track a bead of precum rolling it’s way down his tip before licking it up in one long hot stripe. “hm. tastes good.” you giggle, eyes locking with his before you relax your jaw and swallow as much of him as you can comfortably fit in your mouth, a shot of electricity running through you when shota lets out a deep throaty groan. “fuck...such a good fucking girl. you look so pretty like this.” shota sighs, left hand working it’s way through your coils and tightening its grip, but never pushing. he lets you work at your own pace, his own cheeks flushing when you interrupt the bobbing motion you had set to coyly circle your slick tongue around his tip. your mouth is hot and slick, encapsulating his dick in a velvety vacuum seal while you work him over and over; you haven’t had an insane amount of experience, but you’re observant of what motions garner positive reactions. it’s a combination so dangerous that it has shota’s right hand grappling your comforter for stability, breath quickening as he wonders how the hell he’s managed to last this long.

“you’re gonna suck me dry kitty...” he moans.

at least until you take not one, but both hands, add an amount of spit so copious it’s obscene, and begin to stroke his length slowly and effortlessly whilst maintaining eye contact.

with that little stunt, you’ve officially opened pandora’s box. and there’s no closing it now.

“come here.” aizawa commands, sitting up straighter to pull your hips into his, and before you know it you’re on your stomach, wrists pinned to your black sheets by agile hands. “if you wanna stop here tell me now baby.” he croons in your ear, feather light kisses pressed into your shoulder. “we can watch a movie, cuddle, whatever you’re comfortable with. but if we keep going like this-”

his length presses into your ass and a shiver shoots down your spine.

“-i can’t promise you i won’t ruin you y/n. fuck you full of my cum, pounding into you until i leave you drooling and sloppy just for me, have you scream my name so loud even the League knows who you belong to. you’d be all mine. my pretty kitty. is that what you want?” shota asks, one of his calloused hands sliding down the curves of your body to grip at the soft, tender skin of your ass.

“shota.....please. it’s all i want, just take me already-“ you sob, voice gathering in your throat. a sensual chuckle, and then you feel it: inch after inch slipping into your tight warm walls, the stretch causing your eyes to brim with tears born from more pleasure than actual pain.

“ah! you’re stretching me out so much...” you keen, eyelashes fluttering in ecstasy. “aw kitty...i haven’t even started yet.” shota teases, stretching to his right to grab his capture weapon, and bringing both your wrists behind you. “now..you’ve been so good for me tonight, i think you deserve a reward. earlier, i believe you mentioned something about being tied up?” he binds your arms, leaving your digits to flail helplessly right above the small of your back, where his hand has now come to rest.

“f-fuck me! please...i’m tired of waiting- i just wanna be yours!” you beg, hips jolting back in impatience and need, your pussy throbbing at the sensation of his tip nudging the deepest parts of you. “so fucking needy. i’ll give you exactly what you’re craving sweetheart.” he smirks, before dragging his hips as far back as he can, length retreating from your warm walls before slamming right back in. one hand on your shoulders to keep your face pressed into your pillows, the other taking reign on your hips as a guide to rut against you. your back arches so deliciously for him, ass jiggling on every thrust as he watches your body impale itself on his length. he’s so deep, his tip consistently ramming into your cervix over and over and over; your body is so overwhelmed and so needy, so full but not full enough. it’s too much, but you want more. “fill me up sho! i want it— i need it so bad” you cry, tears spilling over and staining your pillowcase. “wouldn’t you love that, having me fill this pretty pussy up with all my cum hm?” “no wonder you’re moaning for me like a whore, you want everyone to know who’s doing this to you.” shota pants, quickening his pace. “yes! i’m yours all yours!” you moan, pussy throbbing at his fierce pace, you can feel the sweat gathering between your body and the sheets but you don’t care. you use the leverage from your shoulders to push back onto him, chasing your high.

“that’s it, come on, fuck me back. come on kitty it’s your dick after all~” he breathes, grinning at the way you’re drooling and how your eyes are rolling at the way he’s fucking you.

“fuck, you must really wanna cum again hm? such a greedy, slutty girl” you nod, head spinning as he tightens your restraints and strokes into you as deep as he can. you feel the familiar quivering of your legs, a tell tale sign you’re close to cumming. “sho—ah!-sho please! i wanna cum please i’m so close-“ you plead, voice unsteady. “well since you asked so nicely...of course kitty” he acquiesces, a hand slithering between your folds to softly rub your clit while he drills into you, and your body nearly self destructs. “f-fuck! ah—thank you shota, oh god, mmm you’re so good to me” you babble, body floating through space as he rubs you through your orgasm.

and once again, the ball is in his court. you shudder, head leaning over your shoulder with lidded eyes to try and look at aizawa. his hair is down now, and a deep blush has taken residence across his cheeks, chest heaving as sweat glistens on his chest and slowly drips down his toned stomach. he hasn’t stopped fucking you, but this time his rhythm’s gotten sloppy, and his teeth have sunken into his bottom lip so hard you think he’ll pierce through it.

he’s close, and you want every last drop.

“make me take it shota—show me what you do to good girls~” you purr, eyes widening when he loosens your restraints and turns you over, and practically folds you in half. your ankles are by your ears now as he pounds into you, and everything is so much deeper than before. your pussy tightens at the new angle, and you feel another orgasm beneath the surface, though you don’t know if you can take it. “it’s too much! i can’t take it—“ you whine, tits jiggling as he swoops down and paws at one, making you cry out. “yes you can baby, just one more, come on make me proud just give me one fucking more” he growls, the heat of his order hot against your ear. “god i’m gonna paint these slutty little walls white—gonna fill you up so good” he moans, shota’s dirty confession egging you on as your fingers toy with your achingly sensitive bundle of nerves. “that’s it. play with it, show me how you do it when i’m not there-“ and that slick fucking comment is what sends you tumbling off the edge for your third time tonight. “fuck! i’m gonna cum—i’m gonna make you all mine, all for me” you grin before raking your nails up and down his back to encourage him. “give it to me, i don’t wanna have anyone else kiss me without knowing what you taste like~” and soon hot spurts of cum paint your insides and flood you with a warm, thick feeling. shota immediately crashes his lips onto yours, holding you tightly. you can’t really explain the current state of your emotions, but you feel full, and content. meanwhile the current object of your affection is nuzzled into your neck, peppering kisses over all the love bites he’d inflicted earlier as a means of apology, though you didn’t mind.

it would be a pain in the ass to cover up tomorrow, but you could always just wear a scarf or a turtleneck to compensate due to the colder weather. it wasn’t until the two of you had cleaned up and rehydrated that he spoke: “by the way, i like you too. and have. for a while now. just in case that wasn’t clear.” he stated, arms wrapped around your middle as he began to doze off.

“you know you probably should’ve led with that-“

“shut up.”

so yeah, shota aizawa could live without sex.

question is: why the hell would he want to, when you’re here?

[myveryownfanfiction]

I laughed as Ben drunkenly swayed in place. He looked at the award in his hand and the pieces that were laying on the floor. I was fairly sober but at this point anyone was more sober than Ben. He looked up at me and shook his head as his laugh joined mine. 

“I’ll fix it later.” He picked up the pieces and tossed them onto his desk. He turned back to me and leaned on me when he reached me. “Come here beautiful.” I giggled as he wrapped his arms around my waist. 

“I’m proud of you Ben.” I whispered as I ran my fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and hummed. 

“Remember when I used to be fat?” He asked suddenly. I raised an eyebrow. “No. Not just fat but a regular butterball. Bet your fern I was.” He looked over my head just as suddenly, scaring me slightly. Something wasn’t right but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. “You remember we used to say that as kids? You bet your fern. But I was F-A-T.” I shook my head at Ben. 

“Why this nostalgia trip?” I asked as I pulled him closer. Ben shook his head. 

“I’m not quite sure. It just popped in there.” He pulled me into a kiss, effectively stopping all conversation on the matter. The phone ringing pulled us out of our repreve. “I hear bells.” Ben joked. “I’ll be right back.” I laughed and sat down on the bed, taking off my shoes. I could hear snippets of Ben’s conversation on the phone. Smiling to myself, I got up and leaned in the doorway of the room. Ben looked over at me and my smile fell. Fear was written all over his face. “We’ll come.” He hung up the phone and made his way back over to me. “IT’s back.” I would have fallen if it wasn’t for Ben’s quick reflexes. He sat me back on the bed before going and getting us drinks. 

“Are you ok?” I asked. Ben focused on pouring the drinks. 

“I don’t think I am sweetheart.” He took a drink before bringing me mine. “Not tonight. Not at all.” I took a sip of my drink before running my finger around the rim several times. “What about you?” Fear had dissipated some and concern was slowly taking its place. I let out a dry laugh.

“Knowing that damn clown is back in Derry?” I shook my head. “I’m with you Haystack. Not tonight. Not at all.” Ben wrapped his free arm around my shoulder and gently pulled me into his embrace. Once we had calmed down a little bit, Ben and I went for a drive to his latest construction site and we went up to the roof. Ben had brought the bottle with him and I watched him carefully as he swayed close to the edge. I was about to reach out and grab the back of his pants when he wrapped his arm around a piece of machinery to keep himself upright. I joined him and wrapped my arms around his waist. We looked out at the city and got stuck in our own flood of memories. Memories I didn’t want to remember and memories I wasn’t even sure I had forgotten to begin with. A smile made its way onto my face as the day I met Ben came flooding back with force. 

“You going to stand there all day?” I asked the boy that was standing in the middle of the sidewalk. He jumped with a start and turned around. “School’s out you know.” He nodded and moved to the side to stand next to me. Two girls pushed between us and I made a face at their backs. The boy laughed and looked me in the eyes for the first time. “Well.” I stalled before looking over to see my dad standing next to our car. He looked bored. “So long Ben Hanscom. I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” I smiled at him and waved as I jogged over to my dad. I got in the car and watched Ben wave back before turning back the way he was going originally. 

“Who was that?” My dad asked as he looked at me in the rearview mirror. 

“Ben Hanscom. He just started school here today.” I answered before starting the reading that was assigned for class. We had been driving for a while before I looked up at the noise my dad had made. 

“Look at that Henry Bowers. Cutting up some poor kid again.” My dad slowed down enough to take a look at what was happening next to the bridge. “Someone’s going to call the cops on him one of these days.” 

“STOP!” I cried and fumbled with the door handle. I was out of the car before my dad had completely stopped the car. “HENRY BOWERS YOU LITTLE SHIT! LEAVE HIM ALONE!” I ran at Bowers, causing him to turn towards me. 

“Look what we have here! Little Miss./Mr. (Y/N). Come for yours?” Bowers laughed. I stopped just short of Bowers, nostrils flared and hands balled into fists. 

“You leave Ben alone Bowers.” I growled. “I beat you once. I’ll do it again.” Bowers quickly looked at his cronies before flicking open his knife. “That doesn’t scare me.” 

“But this scares the crap out of him.” Bowers lifted Ben’s shirt and went to carve his name in Ben’s stomach. I locked eyes with Ben and he nodded at me. I moved behind Bowers and Ben lifted up to kick Bowers back into me. I locked my arms around Bowers’ arms and threw him back. His knife went flying to the ground as Ben went over the fence. I grabbed the knife and ran to the fence to watch Ben.

“BEN!” I cried as I climbed over the fence and started down after him. 

“(Y/N)!” I could hear my dad from behind me. I turned to him and gestured for him to go after Bowers or get someone to help. He nodded as I went down after Ben. I found him and helped him up.

“Did you get the knife?” Ben asked out of breath. I nodded and showed him. We took off through the Barrens before hiding from Bowers. “Thank you.” 

“No problem. You’re lucky we took this route home today.” Ben nodded and I looked out hesitantly for Bowers and his gang. I watched as Eddie and Bill got the short end of the stick from Bowers before gesturing for Ben to follow me over to the other boys. “Come on. I’m going to introduce you to a couple of my friends.” I slipped my hand into Ben’s and led him over to where Eddie and Bill were standing.

“Let’s go to Derry.” Ben said finally as he turned back towards me. I nodded and followed him back down to his car. Everything moved in a blur. Before I knew it, I was sitting in a taxi driving parallel with the Barrens. Ben and I looked at each other before recognizing the bridge where Bowers had cornered him. “Pull over here will ya?” Ben asked the driver. We pulled up to the curb and we got out. “Wait for us.” I followed Ben down into the Barrens. “Doesn’t look like it changed in 27 years.” He squatted down by the river. 

“I was half expecting Eddie and Bill to be down here if I’m being honest.” I said as I squatted next to him. Ben looked at me and nodded. 

“Or Henry Bowers.” He put a hand on my arm to help keep me steady. Some kids running down a hill caught our attention and we watched, memories of when Ben and I had run from Bowers running back into my mind. I ventured a look at Ben and watched as he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. I put my hand on his knee and squeezed gently. He looked back up and took my hand. I continued watching the kids while Ben stood up and walked off. I glanced over at him and knew that this was his personal moment of being back in Derry. The one that Pennywise would ruin. Mine had come when we had gone over the state lines. 

‘Leaving Derry’ stood in stark contrast to the green trees. I squeezed Ben’s hand and laughed as we sped out of the town. 

“Goodbye Derry! Hope I never have to smell you again!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. Ben laughed and pulled me closer. 

“I thought it was Richie with the one-liners.” He joked. I shook my head as the laughter kept coming. 

“He’s not the only one.” I leaned over and kissed Ben’s cheek. “Besides, we’re finally outta this dump.” Ben nodded and looked over at me with the biggest smile I had ever seen on his face. He floored the car and the wind whipped through my hair. I looked back to make sure that the top of the car was properly latched and stood up in the car. Ben held onto the back of my pants as I screamed with joy. “FUCK YOU DERRY! I AIN’T EVER COMING BACK TO THIS ASSHAT TOWN!” I plopped back down in my seat as Ben tore out of town. 

When I had come out of the memory, I had seen Pennywise sitting on the ‘Welcome to Derry’ sign. He had waved and I had ignored him. I was always good at that. Everyone else was seriously affected by him but for whatever reason I wasn’t. I looked up in surprise as Ben came back. He had a haunted look on his face and we both snapped to attention as the kids ran past. I put a hand on Ben’s arm and squeezed. 

“I’m going to head back to the car.” I said. Ben nodded before taking my hand and kissing the knuckles. “Too many memories too fast too soon.” I joked as I started back up the slope. I opened the car door and got in.

“Reliving your childhood down there?” The driver asked as we waited for Ben. I looked out the window towards the Barrens. 

“Something like that.” I muttered as I watched Ben round the taxi to get back in. He got back in and I quickly took his hand. The driver started back down the road. I leaned my head on Ben’s shoulder. “You look shaken. Everything alright?” He shook his head and leaned his head on top of mine. 

“I’ll tell you later.” He said. I nodded before Ben sat up and moved forward. “Are you seeing that?” I followed his gaze and let out a small gasp. Pennywise stood there with a balloon waving at us as we passed him. Ben and I turned to watch him as the taxi passed him. Turning back around, I nearly screamed before Ben’s hand came down on my thigh to silence me. A yellow balloon was in the car with us and as it slowly turned, we saw it said ‘Turn Back Now’. 

“Ben.” I let out shakily. He nodded as he rolled down the window and gently ushered the balloon outside where it bounced down the road. 

“I know (Y/N). I know.” He rolled the window back up and gathered me into his arms. He pressed a kiss to my head and I gripped his shirt. “I won’t let him get you. You can bet your fern.” Another kiss was pressed to my head, making me smile. “I promise.”

“I promise too Ben.” I said before kissing his cheek and settling back against his chest.