#over the knee back breaker

[muscledjobber]

Over the knee backbreaker gut punch

[watchmegetobsessed]

MAKE HER REGRET IT

A/N: i was really in the mood for some smut and the neighbors trope popped into my head, so here we are!

WORD COUNT: 4.1k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry, your freshly divorced, insanely hot neighbor needs your help: you have to pretend to be his new girlfriend when his ex-wife comes over, however your little stunt outdoes your expectations in a lot of ways.

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It's a basic instinct for you at this point to look up at the balcony whenever you’re approaching your apartment building. However you’re not looking at yours, but the one next to yours that belongs to one hot, freshly divorced guy who moved in next door about two months ago. 

You remember the morning the moving truck appeared and you knew someone was taking the vacant apartment beside yours. You just arrived back from your morning run and you jumped right into guesses about who it will be. Maybe someone your age? A girl you can go to yoga with? Or a sweet old lady you can have tea with on warm afternoons? Hopefully not a noisy family, because the walls are way too thin to endure the screaming of a child. 

Then you saw him. Carrying a heavy looking box up the stairs, a simple white shirt stretching on his torso, tattooed arms flexing under the weight of the box, you knew you were fucked the first time you saw Harry Styles. 

It took you no time to lurk over the next day and introduce yourself as his neighbor. 

“If you need suggestions for coffee spots around the neighborhood, I’m your person,” you smiled at him charmingly as he stood in his doorway in gray sweats and a black t-shirt, hair messy but so delicious, it was screaming for your fingers to run through his locks. 

“I will definitely keep that in mind. I can offer to fix anything around your apartment, I’m kind of a handyman,” he chuckled and your knees almost buckled hearing his creamy british accent. 

Fate played on your hand, because you kept running into each other so it didn’t take long for you to go out for a coffee run together and it was smooth sailing from then. You learned about how he just got divorced, his wife cheated on him and he found out on their second anniversary, tragic story and you still can’t quite understand how any woman could cheat on a man like him. You practically drool every time you catch a glimpse of him arriving back from a run in nothing but a pair of shorts, his tanned skin glistening from sweat. You definitely love to move out to the balcony around the time he can be expected to appear in the late afternoon, you watch him stretch and breathe heavily and the sight alone makes you break a sweat as well, but for a whole different reason. 

You’ve been trying to flirt with him every possible occasion, but you also make sure you don’t come off too pushy. After all he just got out of a marriage, it must be hard on him to recover from being cheated on. There’s also a slight age difference between the two of you, not that dramatic, but that eight years could easily be a deal breaker for him, so you’ve been playing it safe. 

When you’re lying in bed late at night and sleep is not coming to you, you can’t help but think of how he is on the other side of the wall, you imagine him sleeping without a shirt, maybe thinking about you the way you like to think of him… But it’s all just a fantasy, one you fancy very much. 

The door to his balcony is open so you know he is home, but he is not out. You take your time walking up the stairs, your legs are definitely tired from the run you just had and just when you reach your floor Harry’s front door swings open and you stop, watching him walk over to your door. He didn’t notice you, so you stay still and watch him take a deep breath as he lifts his fist up to knock, but then it falls back to his side and he shakes his head, stepping backwards before returning to his spot on your doormat and that’s when you decide to put him out of his misery. 

“Are you out of sugar, neighbor?” you ask, slowly walking towards him. Harry spins around with a stunned expression. 

“Oh, I didn’t–I didn’t see you.” You catch his gaze running down your body and legs and you’re thankful you decided to wear your shortest shorts. 

Playing with your keys in your hands, you finally reach him. 

“What’s up?”

“Um… I have a bit of a situation on my hands and you might be able to help me.”

Unlocking the door you push it in and gesture for him to follow you inside. 

“Do tell me.”

Rounding your way into the kitchen you step to the fridge to grab some water. Harry hesitantly follows you and stops by the kitchen counter. 

“So, I talked to Rory this morning,” he starts. You’ve heard enough about Rory, his ex wife to know that if she’s involved, it’s for sure something messy. “You know that painting in my living room?” You nod. “Well, she insists it’s hers, because a friend of hers painted it, but I was the one who paid for it. Whatever. She’s been trying to get me to give it to her and honestly I’m over it so I gave in. She is picking it up today.”

“When will the part where I can help come?”

“Right here,” he chuckles nervously. “We got into a fight, no surprise. She screamed at me over the phone and told me I’ll die alone because no one can put up with my shit.”

You need to force yourself to swallow the bitterness in your mouth. That woman sounds very much like the spawn of the devil, because who would say that to anyone? Especially to Harry? Aside from being insanely hot you’ve also learned just how kind, passionate and funny he is, basically the whole deal. Rory is the biggest loser in history for letting go of a man like him. 

“One thing followed the other and I just… Um, I told her that I have someone.”

The light bulb switches on in your mind, because you already know where this is heading. And you like it, very much. 

“I don’t know what got into me, but I told her she can meet my alleged girlfriend when she picks up the painting so she can see herself that I’m not the loser she thinks I am. And… as you might now, I do not have anyone…”

“You want me to be your fake girlfriend,” you finish for him, saving him from having to say it out loud. You can see just how awkward he is, having to ask you for such a thing. 

“Basically, yeah. Only if you don’t mind being part of this shitshow. I understand if you find it weird and I don’t expect you to–”

“When should I be over at yours?” you simply ask and watch his eyes go wide. 

“Y-You will do it?”

“Sure, sounds fun. Besides, I’m curious to see the stupidest woman on earth,” you add smirking and he finally lets out a relieved laugh as well. 

“Thank you so much, Y/N. Really, I owe you big time. She’ll be here in about two hours.”

“Perfect. I’ll be there.”

For the next two hours, you do everything you can to bring out the hottest version of yourself. Hair, makeup, dress, everything is on spot when you step out of your apartment and walk over to Harry’s door, ringing the bell. 

When the door swings open and Harry sees you his mouth hangs open, giving you that one last ego boost you need to be the best possible fake girlfriend ever. 

“Satisfied with your girlfriend?” you ask, tilting your head. 

“I-I uh–Yeah! I’m… yes.”

“Can I go inside then?” you ask with a chuckle and he steps aside in a hurry.

“Sorry, yeah come inside.”

“So what’s the plan?” you ask, walking into his living room and making yourself comfortable on the couch. Harry follows, but he takes the armchair across you and you can tell he is still struggling with not ogling you, especially your exposed legs and deep cleavage the dress teases him with. 

“I don’t… I have no idea, I have never done this before.”

“I have.”

“Really?”

“Just once, in college. One of my friends broke up with a girl who did not take it well and I was his fake girlfriend for a week to get her to stop harassing him. It worked.”

“Then… I trust you with anything.”

“What’s the goal?”

Harry opens his mouth, but then closes, as if he is embarrassed to say what’s on his mind. 

“Harry, say it. I’m happy to help with anything.”

“I want to make her regret it.”

“Regret what she said?”

“Regret everything,” he corrects and when he looks you in the eye a shiver runs down your spine from the determination that’s behind his green irises. 

“Consider it done,” you smile at him devilishly. 

At your suggestion you both take a shot to ease your nerves and make it easier to lie. It seems to loosen him just enough that he doesn’t look like he is about to attend an interrogation. 

And then the bell rings. 

“Show time,” you smile at him and as he walks over to the door you take your place on the couch again. 

You hear the door open and then a female voice mixes with Harry’s before the footsteps follow. Harry comes into view first, but then Rory steps out from behind him and you see the pure shock in her eyes when she finally spots you. 

“Oh, hi!” you smile at her almost disgustingly sweetly as you stand from the couch and walk closer. “You must be Rony. I’m Y/N.” You hold out a hand for her and watch as her mouth twitches when she hears you mess her name up. 

“Rory,” she sassily says and shakes your hand at last. “So you’re the… girlfriend.” The disgust in her tone is apparent, she is not even trying to hide it and it just makes it way more enjoyable. 

“Yes and you must be the cheating ex-wife.”

Harry coughs beside you, he was not expecting you to be this blunt, but the look on Rory’s face is priceless, because she can’t deny what she is. Moving closer to Harry you wrap an arm around his waist and though at first he freezes at your closeness, he is quick to recover and join in on the act, his arm finding your waist as well. 

“The painting is over there, just take it and let’s get over with it, alright?” Harry nods towards the painting he already took off the wall, now it’s leant against the console table that’s been underneath it. 

“You didn’t even wrap it?” she scoffs. How am I supposed to take it like this?”

“Rory, I’m not a fucking gallery. You wanted the painting, take it.”

“It’s gonna be ruined if I just put it into my car like this!” she argues. 

“That’s none of my business.”

“Harry, this is so not okay! I can’t–”

“Jesus, Rory fine! I think I have some bubble wrap,” he grunts, heading into his bedroom to find something to wrap the painting in, leaving the two of you alone.

Rory gives you another long, dirty look, as if you were the woman Harry cheated on her with when she is the culprit of this mess here. 

“So how long have you been together?” she then asks, pretending like she is just chit chatting, but you know she is eager to know everything about you.

“A little over a month now. You know, I wasn’t looking for anything serious, but Harry is just the perfect guy and I couldn’t stay away from him.”

“Oh, he is not that perfect, little girl.”

It’s obvious she tried to derogate you by calling you a little girl, she must be around the age of Harry, not more than thirty-six for sure, but she can’t find anything to use against you other than the fact that you’re clearly in your twenties. How mature. 

“I know. But everything he can give me makes it worth it. And the sex, ah!”

She gives you a puzzled look. You knew this would stir her up, Harry mentioned how distant they grew in the last few months and sex wasn’t the same anymore. Looking at the timeline she must have started her affair around that time and Harry couldn’t perform the way he otherwise could because she wasn’t open to him anymore. It was a vicious cycle, but you also know Rory is the kind of woman who must have humiliated him because of that. Harry never said, but you just feel that she criticized his sexual performance when she left him even if it all happened because of her. 

And now hearing that he is giving his all to another woman is definitely something that can drive her nuts. 

“Oh please, he sucks in bed,” she scoffs.

“Not with the right partner. He is so good, I honestly don’t know how you could let go of him.”

“He couldn’t make me cum for months!”

“That’s unfortunate. I get an orgasm basically after every meal. He is so good at it, honestly, it’s like he just wants to please me every possible moment. I mean, I can’t remember a morning when I didn’t wake up with his head between my legs, he loves quickies, I have to sanitize the kitchen counter like twice a day.” You let out a chuckle and just watch as her face grows redder while staring at the kitchen counter, raging jealousy swirling in her mind for sure. It’s clearer than daylight that she didn’t cheat on him because he wasn’t manly enough, this woman is simply a stupid loser who couldn’t appreciate what she had, maybe panicked that she can’t mess around with others and then simply chose to ruin everything. 

You’re more than happy to remind her what she lost. 

“Alright, this is all I got,” Harry emerges from the bedroom with some bubble wrap he probably had left from moving, but when he sees you and Rory staring each other down, he stops. But before he could speak up, you decide to push that knife into Rory’s chest as your final move. 

Stepping over to Harry you push yourself up against him, he drops the bubble wrap and his hands grab you by the waist instantly, though you see confusion in his eyes before you take his face in your hands and pull him closer, lips pressing against his hungrily. 

It’s not a sweet, shy first kiss. This is the perfect show off, messy, passionate, full of tongue and eagerness as you practically devour each other. For a bit you forget about the show you’re putting up and it’s your real desire you’ve been fighting for weeks now. Every time you try to pull back Harry just keeps demanding more and you happily give him what he wants. He bites into your bottom lip when one of his hands moves down to your ass, giving it a not-at-all shy squeeze, making you moan into the kiss. 

It feels like it takes forever for you to stop, when you open your eyes you’re met with Harry’s hungry eyes, his lips are slightly swollen and shiny from your kisses. 

And then you remember you’re not alone. 

“Oh, fuck you. Fuck you both!” Rory pops the bubble around you and when you turn to look at her, she is already grabbing the painting, not even bothering to wrap it. 

“It was nice to meet you!” you call after her.

“Fuck you!” she repeats, marching towards the door and you’re just smirking like an idiot, pleased with yourself for pissing her off so badly. 

Harry follows her to shut the door behind her and you let yourself bathe in the sweet victory you just earned. 

“This went amazing, right? She was so mad, oh my God!” you laugh, but your smile quickly disappears when you realize the serious look on Harry’s face as he is walking back towards you. 

Shit, maybe the kiss was too much. He didn’t want it and now he is pissed at you.

“Are you mad about the kiss? I-I’m sorry if it was too–”

The words die down on your lips when they crash against his again, his hand cupping the back of your head while the other returns straight to your ass, groping you so hard your whole body smashes against his. 

Your mouth opens in surprise and it gives him the chance to push his tongue against yours, he is demanding, rough and so much more raw than what you imagined him to be like. 

“What did you tell her?” he asks against your mouth, moving you around until the small of your back hits the kitchen counter. “What did you tell her that made her so pissed?” he demands, his hand already eagerly moving underneath your dress. He presses two fingers against your clothed clit, making your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“I said, ah–I said I wake up every day with… your head between my legs, and… Oh fuck!” You’re losing your ability to speak your thoughts as his fingers start circling, the fabric of your underwear is so drenched, if you could think straight you might be embarrassed just how aroused he made you so fast. 

“And?” he urges you to continue, but at the same time he pushes your underwear to the side and pushes two fingers into you without warning, making you gasp so loud that people on the street must have heard it through the open balcony door. 

“A-and that you fuck me on the… the kitchen counter all the time.”

He curls his fingers inside you as he keeps talking.

“Then that’s what I’ll do to you now. Are you okay with that?” he asks and you nod eagerly as you hold onto his broad shoulders. 

The next moment he pulls his hand back and you whine, feeling empty all of a sudden, but then he lifts you up and makes you sit on the counter, he lowers himself and places your legs over his shoulders with careful, but confident moves. You grab onto his hair as he pushes his head between your thighs and his mouth meets your clit. 

“Oh, fuck! Harry!” you gasp out, tugging on his hair as he swirls his tongue against your swollen clit, his fingers teasing your hole again. Then they push into you and he sucks on your clit, making you see stars. 

You imagined him to be skilled, but whatever it is he is doing to you, it feels out of this world and now you know you weren’t wrong when you praised him that much to Rory before. 

You’re totally out of breath when he comes up, he kisses you and you can taste yourself on his tongue, your hands impatiently tug on his shirt to get rid of it. Soon the fabric lands on the tiled floor and you map out every inch of his hard chest with your palm and while you keep kissing like there’s no tomorrow, you faintly hear the zipper of his pants come undone. 

You look him in the eyes when you reach down and take his hard length into your hands and you can’t hold back a gasp when you realize just how big he is. 

“I know you can take it, baby,” he coos, kissing the corner of your mouth and you’re ready to take him right then and there, but he moves back, making you reach for him in panic. “Condom,” he says and you lean back onto your elbows with a sigh as you watch him disappear in his bedroom. You have just a few seconds you process that here you are, on top of Harry’s kitchen counter, with your dress bunched up around your waist, your drenched pussy on show, waiting to be fucked properly. You definitely did not expect this outcome when you woke up this morning, but you’re not complaining. 

Then Harry appears and he is walking over to you, completely naked, his dick in his hands as he rolls the condom on while moving and you bite into your bottom lip, hoping to remember this view until the end of time. 

When he reaches you again he simply curls his arms around your thighs and tugs on you so you get closer to the edge. His erection wedges between your wet folds and the tip pokes against your clit, making you clench around nothing. 

“I have to admit, I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you on this counter since the day I moved in and saw you for the first time.”

“Just on the counter?” you ask teasingly. 

“Every surface of this fucking apartment,” he admits with no remorse.

“Make a list then and I’m more than happy to do them all. But let’s tick the counter off first.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

He reaches down and circles his thumb against your clit a bit before grabbing his dick by the base and dragging it up and down your cunt a few times before pushing the head in first, letting you adjust to his thickness first. When you claw at his chest he takes it as a sign to go deeper and he keeps pushing until you take his whole length, feeling fuller than ever before. 

“I want to go hard,” he breathes out, staying still for now.

“Go hard then. I can take it,” you assure him, though you do have doubts feeling just how stretched out you are now. 

“Of course you can. You’re my good girl,” he praises you and before you could get a word out, he pulls back and slams into you hard. 

There are moments when you actually think you’re about to burst, Harry did not joke when he said he wants to go hard, his thrusts are fast and rough and he makes sure he buries his whole length into you every time he pushes into you. At one point he pulls your legs over his shoulders and it allows him to reach a point in you no one has before and it pushes you towards the edge rapidly. The counter is painfully hard underneath you, but you somehow forget about the pain and only focus on how hard Harry is railing into you. His stamina is incredible, your body already feels like goo and you’re not even doing the actual work. 

“Harry, I’m so close,” you moan and his fingers dig deeper into your thighs at your words. 

“Come around my cock, baby. I wanna feel you squeeze me.”

You cry out his name again, a tear rolling down your cheek, because you’re so desperate to let go. Harry moves a hand to where you meet and his thumb returns to your clit and that’s what throws you over the edge. 

Your back arches and you squeeze around him uncontrollably, gasping for air as he ruthlessly keeps fucking into you. 

“That’s it, baby. You look so fucking beautiful, coming on my cock.”

You can’t stop moaning as you ride out your orgasm. The last waves are washing over your body when his movements fall out of rhythm, he slams into you hard and he sucks on his breath before moaning out your name over and over again, pushing into you a few more times as he comes. He falls forward, his face burying into your heaving chest as he tries to catch his breath along with you. There’s a long minute of silent bliss, his cock is still inside you, his lips peppering soft kisses onto the skin that’s exposed on your chest while you’re mindlessly playing with his hair. 

When he straightens up he pulls out of you, the empty feeling hitting you again. He carefully helps you off the counter, but keeps his arms around you, because when your feet hit the floor you wobble. 

Nuzzling your nose against his chest you take the cross pendant on his necklace between your teeth and pull back, looking him in the eyes. 

“Don’t do that, or we’re moving to the next place on the list.”

Giggling you let go of it and push yourself up to steal a kiss. 

“Give me some time to recover, but I’m all in to check out another place.”

“Jesus, I knew you’d be the death of me the moment I saw you,” he breathes out, before his mouth claims yours hungrily. 

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[bunnys-kisses]

captain mactavish loved to see virgins squirm on his cock. johnny mactavish was a notable womb buster and virgin breaker. he loved to leave the pretty bonnies panting for more, he loved to leave them fucked out and whiny. pathetic little things under him. he loved watching the cute little things on base run to find emergency contraceptive because even if captain mactavish tried to use condoms, it was nothing like filling a bonnie full of his cum.

you were his favourite though, the kind of woman that left johnny panting for more. you made him more feral than an upright man. he was a captain and yet when you walked by, his cock got leaky with want.

he man handled you like you were a toy. bruise your soft hips and fuck you until he was trying to get you to taste his cum in the back of your throat. johnny spent too much time with the structure of the military, he was battle-worn so to lose control in your pretty pussy was a luxury that he knew he couldn't go without. there were a dozen pretty faces on base, but none of them lingered in johnny's mind. so when he got you on your back in his room and his strong arms planted on either side of you. his cock rubbed up against the front of your pussy, his words filthy, "we gotta get 'em reacquainted, hen. been gone too long, she probably misses me." his words curled around a base part of your brain that was fueled by sexual need. you whimpered a little bit, you were caged under your captain. he was painfully big and as a result of your many encounters. not even your toys from home could relieve the itch under your skin. your captain was the only person that could make you cum. and johnny was more than happy to shoot every last of his swimmers into your cunt. at least he'd be certain that no other man could have you. when he got his impressive length into you without too much noise from you. he licked his lips. those blue eyes of his were heavy with a sexual want and you thought you found heaven. especially when he leaned back on his heels and lifted your hips until your were bent in a way that your knees were to your ears. you soaked cunt on full display for him.

"captain." "don't worry, bonnie. i got ya. just stay there, hook your arms under your knees so ya don't fall over." his words were heavy, almost caring as if you couldn't feel his hard cock in your stomach. he held onto you tighter and started to move against you heavily. you kicked out your legs a little bit and you felt heat flood your cheeks as he fucked you. the bed squeaked under the both of you as he placed sloppy kisses on your skin. he couldn't wait till he got some time off with you, he took you back to his flat in glasgow and got to mark your pretty skin. he wanted to see how bruised he could make your neck before you two got stares in public. as if they couldn't smell his cum on your skin. shore leave sounded nice about now, pull a few strings and surprise, you're with johnny the entire time. that was the luxury of being a captain. if you thought about leaving him, then he'd pull every string he could get his hands on to get you back in his circle. but from the blissed out expression on your face as he fucked you, you weren't getting anywhere fast. at least not until johnny puts a baby in you. he heard you talk about not wanting children, he had already made the decision for you. it wouldn't be hard, you put your faith too much in birth control and johnny was not about playing dirty. everything had a failure rate, it was only a matter of time. especially when his cock head was pressed up against your cervix. and it made you drool against your covers when you turned your head to the side. he could feel your pretty cunt flutter around his achy cock. the idea of him being with the only made you'd ever be with excited him and made him thrust against you faster. you whimpered and arched your back. he knew when you came then your brain would go flat lined. and he was right, you clutched onto him as you came. back arched and you squeezed your eyes shut. you didn't even form words, you just made a sharp noise that made johnny feel really good. the sight of you made him cum quickly as well. a thrust of his hips to make sure that his cock was getting comfortable with our spongy little womb. a promise of things to come.

before you could muster the strength to go find a way to make sure you didn't get pregnant, johnny was already one step ahead of you. his cock was hard once more and you were on your stomach, back arched to let johnny fuck that sweet cunt once more. even if you tried to claw at the sheets in some half-assed attempt to escape, johnny would always over power you. you're not getting away that easily, so just lie that and let your captain do all the hard work.

"don't sniffle there, bonnie. you'll look a lot better with some baby fat on your hips." <3

[buckyalpine]

Imagine jealous!sharon want to get you out of the way so she can be with Bucky…

She hurts you (even it’s like a bruise) and Bucky begins to be so protective of you 🥺🥵

ABSOLUTELY.

I'm imaging this with a soft sweet reader and fuckboi Bucky. Hear me out, okay.

He's not looking for a relationship at all, finally feeling a sense of freedom after getting a bit of himself back. He's so flirty with everyone, so charming, he knows he can get whoever he wants.

He fucks.

A lot.

Sharon eats it up, loving the smirks he gives her, his playful baby blue eyes always sparkling. She loves the naughty way he bites his lip and don't even get her started on how gorgeous he is when he works out shirtless. His Brooklyn accent comes out when he calls her darlin' and it makes her weak in the knees.

There's just one issue.

The looks he gives Sharon aren't special. She's not the only one he calls darlin', even the old lady at the coffee shop shares the same pet name. Bucky can't help the little smirks he tosses around to others, flirty compliments naturally falling from his lips. He's a bit of a heart breaker but it's who he is.

That's just Bucky.

That's Bucky with everyone else.

Then there's Bucky with you.

The quite lab assistant who worked at the compound.

He didn't have it in him to playfully flirt with you when you asked about his day. He actually liked talking to you, finding any excuse under the sun to keep the conversation going, poking at the little nick knacks you have on your desk so he doesn't have to leave so quickly.

Sharon hates the way he looks at you. Whenever he's around you, he looks at you with puppy eyes as if he's wondering how someone so sweet could possibly exist. She catches onto the way he's not the same with you as he is with others. He's called everyone in passing darlin' with a drawl of his voice but you're his doll. He's never used that with anyone else. That's reserved just for you.

She can't stand it.

At first she tries to pick you apart in subtle ways' maybe you'd finally realize you had no business talking to someone like Bucky.

"You're so pretty even though you wear glasses"

"Don't worry, that dress would still look good on your body type, its meant to suit everyone"

"I wish I was as brave as you to wear that! I'd love to have that much confidence but I could never"

She smiled sweetly while you pulled your lab coat closer together, clutching it tightly in your hand. Your heart sank to your stomach. You'd worn one of your favorite dresses, one many others had always said you looked perfect in but some how Sharon made you doubt that, despite her sugary smile.

Then she took it a step further to make sure you were more isolated, insisting you'd be uninterested in plans when the team wanted to go out. Purposely giving you extra work when they had drinks together. Anything to keep you sad and holed away in your lab while she kept Bucky all to herself.

She'd do anything to get rid of you.

She was almost certain everything was going accordingly to plan, inching closer and closer to Bucky during a movie night until she was pressed against him, sharing his blanket. Not that Bucky noticed since he was more distracted over the fact that Sam was also squished against him on the other side of the small couch. Sam was also buried under the now too hot blanket, his deep snores irrupting the movie having fell asleep on Bucky's shoulder.

"Damn bird brain" Bucky huffed, ignoring the fact that he pushed Sharon off while reluctantly adjusting himself so Sam's head wouldn't slip, shaking his head when Sam grumbled, trying to snuggle into Bucky more.

"Bet you wish that was y/n, huh" Tony wiggled his eyebrows and much to Sharon's distain, Bucky blushed. Not did he deny it.

It didn't matter though. She'd find a way to get Bucky's attention, it wasn't like you were real competition anyways. She figured you'd have the sense to like someone better suited for you, someone in your league, definitely not the very handsome Sergeant.

That was until she found out you had a crush on the super soldier yourself. You'd let it slip out during a conversation with Nat, not realizing there was someone near the lab. Sharon didn't think you actually had a chance with Bucky but it didn't matter.

At this point she didn't care about what it took.

She was sick of the way Bucky was soft over you.

So she took a more direct approach.

"Y'know, I heard someone has a little crush on a certain super soldier" Sharon smirked, wandering to your table, tinkering with one of your tools while you looked at her like a deer caught in head lights.

How did she know?!"

"I-I don't-

"Oh please y/n, everyone knows" the blonde rolled her eyes at your gaping mouth before continuing, "I just thought I should let you know that he's not interested"

You felt like you had been punched in the stomach, the hurt expression on your face made her satisfied,.

"Oh" Was all you mustered out, embarrassed beyond belief while she shrugged. You blinked back tears while Sharon squeezed your shoulder out of faux concern, handing you a tissue.

"I'm so sorry, honestly I just thought you should know because he likes me. And I like him. So it would be best for you to move on, because were seeing each other" It didn't matter if it was a lie because she intended on making it real soon enough.

From that day, you avoided everyone in the compound like the plague, throwing yourself into work, feeling ridiculous for having even thought of Bucky that way. Of course he'd never go for someone like you, you should've known that from the start.

Sharon's plan was short lived after she overheard Bucky worriedly asking Tony about where you'd been all week since he hadn't seen you. After some endless teasing, Tony reassured him you were fine and just busy with lab work, not knowing the true reason as to why you'd overloaded yourself.

Sharon despised the pink that decorated Bucky's cheeks whenever someone said your name.

She hated that she'd seen him walking by the lab hallway in search of you.

She'd do anything to end all of this.

Including hurt you.

-

You made your way down to the gym hoping to sweat some of your unrequited feelings away, putting on your headphones before hopping on the treadmill. Sharon walked in moments later, blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, her toned body on full display in nothing but a sports bra and some tiny shorts.

You felt even worse.

You tried to stay hidden, deciding 15 minutes would be enough, though your escape was cut short with Sharon caught your arm just as you were about to leave.

"How about we spar for a bit" She smiled sweetly, giggling at your confused expression. You'd never sparred in your life, in fact this was probably the third time you'd even used the gym the entire time you'd lived at the compound.

"Sharon, I-I don't think that's a good idea, I've never-

She cut you off, dragging you to the mat, practically shoving you to the middle with more force than necessary.

"It's fine! I mean, it's good for you to learn since you work here n'all C'mon, I'll help you and show you what to do" Before you could say anything, Sharon had flipped you onto the mat, twisting your arm behind your back without warning. You gasped in pain as she gripped harder, pulling further up your back until she heard your joints crack.

"Let-let go" You winced out, confused over what part of sparring this was, your body hitting the floor when she released her grip.

"Ops" Sharon pouted with faux innocence, taking a long sip from her water while you hissed in pain, seeing the formation of a bruise already forming on your arm.

"SHARON"

Sharon squeaked in surprised at the loud voice that boomed through the gym, bouncing off the walls. Her eyes shot up to see a very angry super solder making his way over to the mat, eyes darkening as they landed to your injured form on the ground.

"What the fuck did you do?!"

"Bucky, we were just-

"Don't" Bucky growled through gritted teeth, rushing over to your side, and slipping his arm around your waist.

"Angel, are you okay?" He cupped your cheek, helping you to your feet and taking your hand in his, examining it with the utmost care. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"M'all right" You nodded, your face heating up under his gaze, still a little shaken, your body trembling.

"How the fuck could you hurt her" Bucky spat, his metal hand clenched to his side, itching to punch Sharon in the jaw, having seen what she had just done but he didn't want to deal with the mess that would come afterwards. "The hell did you do that for"

"Excuse me? I was just showing her how to-"

Bucky's jaw clenched, instantly shutting her up. He refused to let go of you, keeping you firmly tucked into his side, growing unbelievably protective over you.

"Fine, go ahead, I'm sure she's different from all your other little side pieces" Sharon scoffed, smirking at the way your face fell. Bucky felt like he'd been hit in the chest; you were far more than any of his hook ups and he'd never considered treating you that way.

"You. Don't. Touch. Her" He glared her at before walking off with you. After the incident, Bucky insisted you go to the doctors to get checked over, waiting outside of the room like a kicked puppy. He couldn't help but feel guilty that all this had happened because of him. He also wondered that you thought.

Did you think he'd just use you for one night?

He would never.

He knew he wasn't into dating. He gave up on the dream of getting married, having kids, all that years ago. But that was before he met you. Ever since you'd thrown him a shy smile along with the softest hello Sergeant Barnes, Bucky had been a goner.

If his feelings were was bad before, it was even worse now.

You were told to ice your arm for the pain and swelling. Bucky had swept you away right to the kitchen, despite you telling him you'd be fine, plopping you onto the kitchen island wrapping an ice pack in a towel. He held it to your arm, frowning at the way you refused to look at him, your face downcast to the floor.

"Doll?" Bucky wrapped his arms around you for a comforting hug, wondering if the altercating with Sharon was still upsetting you, "Are you okay sweets? I missed you, haven't seen you in ages"

"I-I'm fine, I'm sorry" You pulled away from his arms, remembering Sharon's words from earlier, instantly missing the warmth of his body. "I know you don't feel the same way Bucky" You bit your lip to keep it from trembling.

Bucky blinked in confusion, having no idea what you were talking about. What did he not feel the same way over.

"What do you mean y/n"

"I mean I like you-but I know you don't like me that way so I kept myself busy so I wouldn't bother you because Sharon said-

"Wait, slow down, what did Sharon say"

You sighed before recounting all the things that had lead to this moment, Sharon insulting you, then telling you to back off, to straight up fighting you.

"Oh doll" Bucky shook his head, feeling worse over what had happened but over the moon over your confessed feelings, "She's right you know," He teased at the pout that made it's way to your lips before playfully pecking them, catching you by surprise.

"I don't do relationships. Certainly never had before. That was before I met the sweetest thing in the world and she's had my heart since" Bucky whispered, his hands, one warm, one cool cupping your cheeks, "She has me dreamin' of sayin' I do and that white picket fence, a ring on her finger, a pretty little baby bump with flowers on the window sill. Maybe a baby boy n' a baby girl. Maybe even a cat. She's the cutest little lab assistance and I'd love for her to be my girl, sweets"

Bucky held your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing over your warm cheeks while you grew bashfully shy, burying your face into his chest instead, making him chuckle.

"I didn't think you were the relationship type" You shrugged, toying with his dog tags, "I'm not you're darlin' Bucky"

"That's cause you're my doll" Bucky tilted your face up making you look up at him, his lips pressing the softest kiss to your nose and then your lips. "My one and only doll"

[saetoshis]

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ HANDS ON | wind breaker headcanons

⋆୨୧˚ WITH: umemiya ; togame ; sakura

⋆୨୧˚ SUMMARY: which place they like to touch the most!

⋆୨୧˚ MATURE CONTENT WARNINGS:

fem reader, bit of size kink, lots of praise, pet names [sweet thing, baby, 'pretty'], mentions of bondage/restraint, oral [m. receive], dry humping, nipple play, creampie, MDNI

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ UMEMIYA

umemiya wasn't too particular with any one place on your body - not for a while at least. he'd try different positions, focusing on how tightly you enclosed around him when he angled different ways. he was determined to find the best one, to have your pussy squeezing him tight and your frame shuddering in ecstasy. all it took was one time in doggy, and he was fucking hooked.

your knees dig into the mattress, chest pushed against the sheets as you peek back at a turned on, panting umemiya. his big hands find your hips, playing with the plushness of it all as he lets his cock slip in ever-so-slowly. a languid groan leaves his lips as he curls over you, lips pressing open-mouthed kisses along your spine. "that's it... fuck- squeeze me more."

"too big, 'miya," you murmur between panted heaves, body rocking each time his hips rut forwards. each purposefully angled thrust hits a spot that feels like heaven, and all you can do is moan and whimper between mumbled curses. "g-god, feels so good- fuck."

"oh, i know, i know," umemiya coos under his breath, his voice low against your cheek as he picks up the pace, fucking deep into the hilt of your cunt. his hands wander back to your hips, enticed with the way they move along with the rock of his body against you. "keep takin' it like this, yeah. knew you could do it, sweet thing. look at me, just keep lookin' at me..."

it's not long before his muttered praises and heavy ruts have you reeling over the edge, with him not far behind. he shudders and digs his fingers into your hips, panting hard before his body tenses up. with a low grunt, ropes of white spill between your walls and it makes you shudder. umemiya mutters between a chuckle, "oh, shit... think i found a new favorite way to fuck you."

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ TOGAME

togame has a bit of an affinity for control, so he enjoys things like restraining your hands, or making you take agonizingly slow ruts until you're begging for him to speed up. but above all, there's something he just loves about your lips, your mouth, the softness of your tongue... it entices him like none other.

"that's it, just like that. suck it, yeahh," togame sneers as he watches the way your head bobs and your hands pump and twist and glide against him so sophisticatedly. he can't help the little smile on his face as he sees you look up into his eyes, little tears pricking at your waterline. his hand brushes against your hair gently, "c'mon, i know you got more for me. show me how nasty you can be..."

togame lifts your chin, letting you breathe as saliva and pre-cum coats your lips. his cock throbs as he slides his thumb over your bottom lip, all before slipping it into your mouth to feel the slickness of your tongue. he murmurs a little 'fuck, so wet' through an enticed gaze as he feels it languidly, then lowers your mouth back onto the head of his cock.

"show me what you can do with that pretty tongue," togame rasps lowly, enamored by the way you start to swirl it around the head of his cock, then suck tantalizingly. his chest rises and falls quickly, little twitches jolting here and there as he feels himself building up. it only takes a few more pumps of your fist and tongue dragging along the shaft before he's letting out hitched grunts.

"fuck- me, baby," he groans out between a chuckle, rutting his hips slowly into your mouth as he flits his hands on your hair. with a low shuddered moan, his hips rock up into your mouth and hot ribbons smother your tongue in a tangled mess. he slips his cock out, mouth agape and panting as he watches you swallow it all. he takes no time before leaning in to kiss you, muttering, "now it's my turn to use my tongue."

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ SAKURA

sakura has always been obsessed with your tits, it's clearly been a favorite for him for a long time. you'll be snuggling and his hand quickly finds its place on your chest, and he can't help but squeeze here and there. he loves any possible position where he can see or touch your breasts as much as he wants.

"so fuckin' hot, god," sakura grunts out as he grinds his clothed cock against you, clad in nothing but boxers. you can tell he's pent up by the way he's breathing so heavily, his hands wandering your body in wanton need. he quickly slips up your shirt, his palms finding your breasts as he ruts his hips on you a little harder. "so hot, baby, yeah, they're all mine."

“little more,” you murmur desperately as he ruts along your clit above your shorts, feeling his thumbs shift towards your exposed nipples to circle and feel them in irrevocable intensity. every little grind of his hips and shift of his fingers leaves you a shuddering mess, and sakura can’t help but think it’s just the hottest thing ever.

“so cute when you do that lil' shaky thing," sakura mutters between a small sneer as he rocks his hips a little harder this time, shifting downwards to press open-mouthed, eager kisses along your chest. his tongue replaces his hand, circling around your nipple and letting out a little enticed groan every time he feels you shiver from it. "fuck- wanna cum while i'm kissing these pretty tits."

with quick, panting breaths and a feverish slew of kisses on your chest, sakura shudders and moans as he spills a load of white into his boxers - and he can't help but think. maybe he'll ask if he can fuck between your tits next time.

2024 SAETOSHIS. do not copy/repost.

[mangostarjam]

taking care — wind breaker, aged up sakura haruka x f!reader, established relationship, "brat" as a petname, smut towards the end, 4.4k words

"Aren't you too old for this?"

Sakura Haruka grimaces and shoves his bruised hands into his pockets. You raise an unimpressed eyebrow. There's dirt smudged along his cheekbone and the end of his sleeve is ripped.

"They were tryin' to hit on a girl." It comes out mumbled. Haruka's two toned gaze is averted to the top of your head. It was always difficult to get him to meet your eye in your high school years, but ever since he hit his growth spurt and graduated you feel like it's gotten worse.

"Haruka-kun," you sigh, "c'mere."

You grab his arm and tug, taking advantage of his brief moment of surprise to drag him into the back of the bakery. Your coworkers wave and smile at the former school captain but otherwise leave the two of you alone.

"Y-you…! What're you doing?"

The back office of Saboten is neat and clean and thankfully empty. You shove Haruka into a chair and grab his chin, ignoring the flare of heat beneath your fingers as he turns bright red.

"Did you get hit on the face?" you ask, leaning closer to look. The dirt smudging his cheek is loose, brushing away easily when you stroke the smooth skin there. You probe gently at the strong bone beneath and ignore the way his chest seizes with a held breath.

"No," he mumbles, "it's just dirt."

Your attention is drawn — as always — to his eyes. A muted, stormy gray blue and a bright, shimmering gold meet your unabashed gaze as your thumb strokes along his cheekbone again.

"I'm glad you didn't get hurt." You allow yourself a tiny grin as he scrunches his nose at you. "You could've let the new Bofurin kids handle it… but those guys will definitely think twice about messing with anyone from our neighborhood now."

"'Course," Haruka sniffs. You wonder if he knows he's leaning into your palm. "It was a quick fight, anyway. Only losers are late."

"I told you, you don't have to pick me up from work. I can handle myself." You giggle as he scoffs. You slide into a crouch, propping up your elbows on his knees for balance. "Give me your hands, Haruka-kun."

Your boyfriend hesitates for a short moment before releasing a breath. His hands are rough, but he flips them over obligingly and doesn't flinch when you curl your fingers around his wrists. "You've bruised your knuckles again," you tsk. "I'll go grab the first aid kit."

"W-wait." Haruka's entire face is charmingly pink, the gentle hue sweeping along his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. "You don't… I mean, I don't need you to —"

"I know," you hum, tugging his hands up to brush a gentle kiss along his skin. "But I want to."

Haruka stays quiet as you fetch the first aid kit and get to work disinfecting the tiny cuts on his hands. You're used to the comfortable silence, basking in the familiarity of tending to his battle wounds in the back of the bakery where you first met.

You never would've guessed that part of your job duties at the bakery would include taking care of the new out-of-towner all those years ago, though it wasn't like he went along with it quietly. Your boss at the time was adamant that the Bofurin boys deserved all the freebies the bakery could afford to give, and she never minded when you'd pop off to the back alley to administer first aid.

Nirei was the one who knew you were handy with a medical kit, but it was Suo who eventually tricked their first year captain into coming to you. Haruka was a lot pricklier back then, shying away from casual human contact like everyone was out to get him but diving into fights like nobody's business.

Luckily for you, in spite of his speed and reflexes, Haruka definitely wasn't used to girls who were willing to literally sit on him to force him to stay still for first aid. After enough times shoving freshly baked bread into his hands and making him into your first aid practice dummy, he started to show up outside the bakery's back door on his own, often looking like a disgruntled street cat.

Little by little, you learned which breads he preferred and you begged Kotoha to teach you how to make omurice the way Haruka liked it. Little by little, he stopped flinching away from your touch and even let you lean against him when you needed a short break from work or studying, propping your head up against his shoulder and staying still enough that sometimes you'd fall asleep.

Little by little, the two of you fell in love.

Haruka doesn't say anything as you finish smoothing the tape holding his new wrappings together, but he flips his hands to hold onto you as you rise from your knees. You smile. "Do you wanna get dinner at Cafe Pothos? Kotoha-chan might make fun of you, though."

"She'll make fun of me no matter what," he grumbles. You snicker as he ducks his head. From this angle, you can only see the pale white eyelashes of his left side pressing against his skin as he takes a deep breath. "Don'tcha need to finish your shift? I'll be outside."

"Aw, are you worried about me?"

"Shaddup" Haruka huffs. "As if I care."

You grin as he rises to his full height, still steadily avoiding eye contact as you squeeze his hands. After all these years, it's cute how flustered he still gets when you tease him. "Haruka-kun? You can let me go now."

"…Can't."

"Oh?" you raise an eyebrow and tilt your head to catch his eye. He scowls. "If you just loosen your fingers—"

"Sh-shut up." You watch patiently as your boyfriend takes a deep breath. It's quiet in this back office, though a wall is shared with the employee locker room and you can hear a few of your coworkers laughing and chatting indistinctly. The smell of rising dough and freshly baked bread permeates the room, cut through with the sharp tang of antiseptic cream.

Haruka's ears are still red. You catch a glimpse of them through his black and white hair and squeeze his hands again. So cute. "Haruka," you say.

"…What?"

You rise up on tiptoes to kiss him, holding onto his hands for balance as you rock forward. Haruka predictably freezes before making a rough sound and kissing you back, letting you take the lead as you lean into him. His heartbeat jumps beneath your lips as you move to kiss at the soft spot below his jaw, earning another strangled noise that makes you smile into his skin.

It's warm. You think maybe your own ears are red enough to match his, but you don't give him a chance to notice, pressing another quick kiss to his lips and disentangling yourself. "I've gotta get back to work. I'll see you in a bit, 'kay?"

You leave him in the back office, knowing he'll find his way to the alleyway behind the bakery to wait for you, as always. Your coworkers don't mention how long you were missing, but you take over the mopping and cleaning duties as a thank you anyway.

Haruka doesn't take your hand when you meet him after your shift, but he walks close enough that your shoulders brush with every step. The gentle ringing of the wind chimes strung up below the shopping district sign follows the two of you on your walk towards home.

"What should we have for dinner, since you don't wanna endure Kotoha's teasing?" you ask, grinning lopsidedly when Haruka snorts in response. The street lamps cast a glow along his black and white hair, haloing him in a light gold that pales in comparison to his golden eye.

He glances sideways at you as you pause at a crosswalk. You catch a flash of gold and blue before he faces forward again. "You're comin' over?"

"Yes, or else you'll eat instant noodles again and die of malnutrition," you say. The two of you step into the street, though he steps slightly ahead of you to make sure it's clear. "Unless you don't want me to."

"Let's have curry."

"Did you get ingredients for curry, mister?" you ask, bumping your shoulder into his arm teasingly. "Or will we need to stop by a konbini again for emergency supplies?"

"That was just one time," Haruka grumbles, but he glances back at you fondly as you laugh. "And I went shopping earlier, brat."

He lets you hold onto his sleeve as you enter his studio apartment and stays steady as you toe your shoes off in the genkan. The place is vastly improved from the first time you stepped foot in it all those years ago, when you were delivering food for a sick Haruka.

Gone are the creaky hinges and peeling paint — the walls are smooth and clean, the cabinet doors are all securely attached, and there are actual curtains hanging over the balcony doors. He still sleeps on a futon, but he also got a low table and cushions for guests after you complained about eating on top of cardboard boxes, and he got a dresser to store his clothing after you took him shopping so he'd stop wandering around town always wearing his high school uniform.

Making dinner is always fun, with Haruka, because even though he's grown and learned a lot, you still get to tease him about his bulk stack of instant noodle packages and he still turns bright red when you lean over the table to offer him a spoonful from your plate.

He's more relaxed here, more willing to close the gap between you when you reach out to him. It used to worry you in the beginning — would you always be the one to make the first move? Did he actually like you, or was he just going along with your flirting because he didn't know any better?

Then he does something like swiping his thumb along your lips and sticking the digit in his mouth, laughing at your surprised gasp and gathering up the dishes before you can form a coherent thought. He asks about your day and listens as you tell him about the cute little kid who came into the shop asking for curry bread because "that's Sakura-taicho's favorite, and I wanna be like him when I grow up!"

You bask happily in the furious blush that paints his skin, grinning to yourself as he stammers and jerks his face away.

"Did you get new towels?" you ask, handing him a soapy plate to rinse off. Your boyfriend takes it, huffing an amused snort when you yawn widely. It's nearing your bedtime, and your sated appetite is making you even sleepier.

"Yeah," Haruka says, "since you were complainin' last time that mine're scratchy."

"Oh, nice," you say, rinsing the suds off your hands and moving to stand behind him. You shove your face into his shoulder blades before he can move, wrapping your arms around his middle as he tenses beneath you. It's been ages since he was an active fighter defending the town, but you can still feel the power and strength of his densely packed muscles twitching under your hold. "Mm, I'm sleepy…"

"Gwah! What are ya, an octopus?!" Haruka sets the clean plate on the drying rack and settles his hands on top of yours, but he doesn't move you. He could easily overpower you, though you're hugging him pretty firmly, pressing your entire body up against his as you take a deep breath. "The hell're you doin'?"

"Hugging you," you say. Haruka's fingers tighten around your wrists, but he still doesn't move you.

"I got that, genius."

"I'm just recharging before I have to head home," you mumble into his shirt. You're saving both of you from embarrassment, here, hugging him from behind like this, so really he should be grateful that you're so considerate of his feelings.

"It's late."

"I know," you whine, squeezing him just a little bit harder. "I don't wanna think about it."

"You have a toothbrush here."

Oh. "I don't have clothes here."

"You can borrow mine." Haruka stiffens even more as your hands clench the front of his shirt. "I-It's not like I'm tryna get you to stay over! It's just that it's late and you've gotta get up e-early tomorrow! I'm not some kinda pervert!"

You giggle into his back and nuzzle your forehead into the strong muscle there as he finally relaxes. "I'd be kinda upset if you didn't think about it a little bit, Haruka-kun. I am your girlfriend, after all."

Haruka lets out a huge sigh and moves to brace his hands on the counter. "You can take a bath first. Lemme go heat up the water."

"Are you trying to be a gentleman again?"

"Wuh — what're you talkin' about? I already told you I'm not a pervert!"

You laugh. "Last time you went to heat up the water for me, you didn't come out for a solid twenty minutes. I thought you passed out in there."

"That was just — I was just —!" Haruka hangs his head and you press your cheek against his back. You can feel his heartbeat pounding in double time. "I was tryin' to calm down."

"You don't have to, y'know," you say softly, patting at his firm chest with a sigh. "I wanna do it too."

Haruka chokes on his spit. Or at least, you think that's what happens, because he lapses into a coughing fit and gently pushes you towards the bathroom with a red face. He refuses to answer your concerned questions, only shoving a pair of shorts and a t-shirt into your arms before shutting the bathroom door on your amused face.

You shower and bathe on your own, humming a nonsensical tune as you lather up with his shampoo and body wash. It's a minor miracle and mostly a testament to your relationship that he has amenities at all, the clean smelling soaps clearly picked out with a thought towards your possible use of them. It makes your heart stutter in your chest when you notice that he's stocked your favorite brand of lotion on the counter and even left a clean face towel and headband for you to use while washing your face, as if he knew you'd need them eventually.

His clothes are a little too big on you, but you cinch the waistband of his shorts and hope for the best as you step out of the bathroom. Haruka is sitting stiffly at the low table, glaring down at his phone as the screen lights up with texts.

"Is everything okay?" you ask.

Haruka looks up and freezes. You pause in the act of adjusting his shirt on your shoulders, blinking at your boyfriend as he seems to go through five stages of something before he turns a bright cherry red and slams his eyes shut. You snort.

"You've seen me naked before, Haruka-kun."

"S-shaddup! T-that's different!"

You get on your knees in front of him and cup his face in your hands. Haruka doesn't flinch, but he cracks open one stormy blue eye like he's worried about what he might see. You roll your eyes at him. "Are you good? Why do you look so pissed at your phone?"

"Oh," Haruka blinks and glances sideways at the offending item. His face is warm in your hands. "The guys found out you're staying over."

"Are they giving you advice on how to get laid again?" you ask, giggling. "I love you, but please don't listen to Umemiya-san. I promise I don't get turned on by plant based pickup lines."

"I'm gonna shower!" Haruka stands abruptly and shuffles past you, but he pauses at the door. "You can read it, if ya want. The chat thread."

You raise an eyebrow and pick up his phone as he shuts the bathroom door behind him. A generic wallpaper greets you as you swipe it open, but you notice a star emoji next to your name in his message history, which makes you smile.

The chat thread with Haruka's former classmates is at the top, filling with more unread notifications as you watch. Scrolling through, you grin to yourself as the boys send teasing and shy stickers, interspersed with their own complaints of struggling to find partners for themselves and throwaway comments about "that lucky bastard Sakura" snagging "the cutest girl on Tonbu street".

"What're ya laughin' at?" You blink as Haruka crouches in front of you, a towel hanging around his neck. He's shirtless, and you watch with interest as a gentle pink flush deepens and spreads along his skin. "Quit starin'!"

"Y-you're the one who came out shirtless," you squeak, setting his phone aside and reaching out for him. Haruka chews on his lip but lets you touch him. "That's so unfair!"

You trail your hands down his bare sides and smile as he tries to suppress a shiver. Then you reach for his hands. "The first aid kit is here," Haruka says, stretching out to grab it from its shelf. The movement puts his hard muscles on full display, though you have a feeling it's unintentional. Regardless, you can't quite tear your eyes away from his chest and stomach, watching as the muscles of his abs flex when he returns to his crouch.

"You're so stupidly hot," you mutter, accepting the kit and snapping it open. "I can't believe you just walk around looking like this."

"H-huh?" Haruka's eyes widen in surprise. You grab his hands to keep him from running away, but he stays still as you reapply ointment and bandages to his knuckles.

"I know you find it hard to believe, since people used to give you shit about your looks, but you are…" you pause and glance up at him, taking in his smooth skin, his beautiful gray blue and golden eyes, his fluffy black and white hair, "stupidly hot."

Your boyfriend sighs and places a hand on your hip. You set the first aid kit aside and grin up at his pleasantly pink face. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, please."

Haruka kisses you slowly, tentatively. It's a little precarious, leaning up as he crouches in front of you, so you drag him to the futon and pull him over you, tugging him close by the ends of his towel. "You're so warm," he mutters, shifting his weight on his elbows and doing his best to keep from crushing you.

You sigh into the next kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him down, huffing a laugh when he grunts and smacks his hand against the floor in surprise. "You're so far from me, how can you even tell?" you tease.

"You're always warm," Haruka grumbles. He noses along your cheek, smiling against the smooth skin there as you giggle. "And soft."

"Are you callin' me weak?" you ask, tilting your head to kiss him again. He breaks the kiss with a pant, nipping at the exposed skin of your collar as your shirt shifts. "Ah — hey!"

Haruka groans, one of his hands going down to grip at the soft give of your waist, holding you still as he grinds down into the cradle of your thighs. You moan as his hard length drags against you, wiggling your hips into the friction as something pulses in your core. "I should've given you another shirt."

"A-another shirt? What's wrong with t-this one?" You gasp as he rolls his hips again, arching into the touch as his free hand slips beneath your borrowed shirt to brush against the swell of your chest. You grab at his shoulders and back, dragging your blunt nails along his skin as you pant. "I l-like this shirt!"

"I like it too," he admits, hiding his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His hand slides up to cup one of your tits, tugging and pinching as he sucks a bruise into your neck. "Y'look damn good in it."

You whine, throwing your head back as he shoves the shirt halfway up, snagging on the bottom of your breasts before he yanks it off of you entirely. He drapes himself back over you almost right away, kissing you breathless until you lick into his mouth to earn a strangled groan.

Haruka seems content to keep kissing you, and normally you wouldn't mind, but your borrowed shorts are getting uncomfortably damp and he keeps rolling his hips mindlessly and it's driving you a little insane.

"Haruka, touch me already," you plead. Your boyfriend pulls apart a few scant centimeters, two toned eyes scanning your face wildly until you grab one of his hands and shove it down your shorts. "O-oh, yes, please right there —!"

"Fuck," he bites out. "You're so wet."

"Haruka, you need to stretch me out," you say breathlessly, squirming as his fingers slide and press against the wetness along your lips. "Y-you're too big to go right away, you've gotta ngh —"

He dips one finger into your clenching pussy and freezes above you. It would be almost comical except for how much hotter it makes you, forcing you to buck into his hand as he pants. "S-stop squirmin' or I'll come in my fucking pants," Haruka grunts, forcing himself to begin fingering you in earnest.

He grits his teeth when you whine at another added finger, scissoring them immediately to hurry this up. He doesn't want to hurt you, but when you're laid out like this right in front of him, looking so pretty and perfect, it's taking everything he has not to rut into you like an animal.

"I'm ready, 'm ready," you breathe. You wrestle the two of you out of your bottoms and giggle when he sends one pair of shorts flying into the wall, but your attention is immediately drawn to the trail of black and white strands leading down to your boyfriend's cock. "Can I?"

"Fuck no," Haruka says, positioning himself between your legs again. "D'you want me to die?"

That makes you laugh. You reach out for him as he spreads your legs apart with rough fingers, his easy, overwhelming strength making something throb in your gut. Your sex life is actually pretty healthy, considering your respective jobs and commitments and Haruka's healing trauma. He's always been careful and attentive to your needs as you learned about desire together. It's not like you're deprived of it, or anything.

But when Haruka slowly pushes his way inside you, the muscles along his jaw ticking with restraint, the feeling of being filled by him makes something snap in your core and you cum with a breathless cry.

Haruka freezes immediately, hands slamming down on either side of your head as you clench and squeeze his cock unrelentingly. He barely manages a shallow thrust before he has to freeze again, hot breaths puffing on your face.

"Did you just…?"

"Uh huh."

"Does that always happen??"

"Your dick isn't magical, Haruka-kun," you giggle, looping your arms around his shoulders and wiggling your hips a little. "This isn't going to happen all the time, so don't get used to it."

"I wasn't sayin' that!"

Haruka pouts into your next kiss, but you lick into his mouth and manage to draw out a low groan and an aborted thrust. The ache in your gut hasn't lessened much. If anything, the pressure of his thick cock nestled inside you is making you tingle all over, and the way sweat starts to bead along his hairline makes you want to make him cry.

"You can move, please," you breathe, "you don't have to hold back."

"Don't wanna h-hurt you," Haruka grunts, pulling out slowly only to thrust back in with a force that makes your tits sway. He screws his two colored eyes shut, brows furrowing in concentration. "Fuck, you feel so good."

"You feel good, too," you sigh. "You can let go, I promise."

Haruka's next thrust makes you moan, and something in him seems to snap. He fucks you into the futon relentlessly, propping your ankles up on his shoulders, his dick hitting that spot inside that makes you see stars fuzzing along the edges of your vision. The angle presses your clit against his skin with every thrust, sending you quickly spiraling into another orgasm as you cry out his name.

"Hah, oh fuck I'm gonna —!"

Haruka groans a strangled garble of your name as he reaches his peak, thrusting into you deeply as his cock throbs and releases thick gobs of sticky cum inside you. He lets go of your legs immediately, pressing firmly into the muscles there to ease the strain of being stretched like that for so long, but he hides his face in your neck as the two of you catch your breath.

"Should I call in sick for work tomorrow?" you mutter absently, somewhat desperately grasping for some semblance of sanity. "I dunno if I'll be able to walk."

"Shit, did I hurt you?" Haruka asks, lifting his head and wincing at the pull of sweaty skin. He's glowing, bright and handsome above you, his hair damp with sweat. His two colored eyes are a little watery, his eyelashes sticking together in clumps with unshed tears from how hard he came. The sight makes something squirm in your gut.

You reach up to push his bangs out of his face and snicker as the strands stick up. "You didn't hurt me, you just fucked the strength out of my limbs. We'll need another shower."

Haruka blushes hotly, an impressive feat considering he's still solid and hard inside you. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm not hurt," you promise. You cradle his face in your hands and he leans into the touch. His hips roll slowly against you and he bites on his bottom lip as you gasp. "Haruka?"

"Maybe you should call in sick for work tomorrow."

"Seriously?"

Haruka nods, still blushing hard. "I swear I'm not a pervert, but you…"

You gape at him. "Are you calling me a pervert?"

"N-no!" You don't give him a chance to continue, leaning up to kiss him. You're both smiling when you pull away. "Who knew doing this stuff would feel better than fighting?"

You laugh out loud at that and flop back into the futon. "Are you seriously comparing the two things? Why're you thinking about fighting right now?"

"Can't help it," Haruka says, shrugging. "I could die when you make me feel so good. And fighting's what got me the cutest girl on Tonbu street."

[happy74827]

Ice Breaker

[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You start to see your acquaintance/friend in a new light after saving your life.

WC: 6994 (oh, jeez)

Category: Fluff, Eventual Smut (lmfao), Lime/Spice, Slow Burn(ish), {TW: Drowning, Improper Use of Claws (Kinda a joke, kinda not… it’s hinted in the very beginning), P With P, Slight OOC? MDNI!!}

Why am I petrified to post this?? Literally shaking.

So, uh, please be nice to me 😭🫶 Smut is NOT my strong suit. This is like my 3rd attempt at it and the first time I’m posting it. Kinda scary. But I wanted to be that person who wrote all genres (dunno why), so here’s a fic containing mostly all genres? I guess?

@yoursacredqueenmother helped with some parts (mostly the ending) and my confidence so shout out to my queen!! Love you girlie 💞

『••✎••』

Warmth and pain. It’s all you felt. Your lungs were aching, begging for the oxygen that the cold water was denying you. Your vision blurred as your body screamed for air. The feeling of a strong pair of arms wrapped around you, pulling you out of the depths and into a blinding light. You felt the air hit your face as you were laid onto solid ground, a large hand pushing on your chest.

Suddenly, you felt the pressure of a mouth being pressed against yours, and it took a moment before your mind registered what was happening.

It was then a sound of a gasp and a deep, throaty growl sounded from above you, and the warm, comforting weight of the hand was suddenly gone. Only replaced by a sound that resembled a sword being drawn from a sheath.

And then, pain once more. You felt something lodge into the airway, and your body was instantly set into a frenzy, attempting to rid itself of the object. In an instant, the sound similar to a sword repeated itself, replaced only by the feeling of being turned onto your side. Your body began to convulse as a mix of the icy lake water, and your stomach acid spewed from your throat.

When your body finally stilled, your eyes fluttered open to reveal a blurry vision; you began to hear things more clearly. Muffles turned into a voice, which turned into words.

"Shit… Fucking shit," Deep and gruff, almost a growl. You remembered that voice. You knew that voice. "Jesus, you’re ice cold. Fuck!"

The sound of a zipper was heard, and before you knew it, a weight was placed over you, and you were off the ground and in the air.

That’s when you peered up and saw him. The very same man who claimed he was far from a hero. He was carrying you with his arm under your knees and the other supporting your back. He was constantly flickering his gaze to look down at you while you did nothing but stare back.

It was after a moment that your senses were coming back to you, and you began to notice things more clearly.

His jaw was clenched tight, and the look in his eyes was one of concern. You didn't know if it was your imagination, but it looked like there was a tint of red around his iris, which was now a piercing hazel color. The muscles of his face were taut and strained. The furrow of his brow gave him a look of worry while the twitch of his lips hinted at annoyance.

"Lo…" You didn’t realize the impact the water and the ice had had on you until you tried to speak, the sound coming out weak and broken. His gaze flicked back to you, and the red ring around his eyes was gone.

"It’s alright. It’s… You’re gonna…" The cold air hit his face as he opened his mouth, causing his breath to turn into fog. "You’re gonna be fine, Sweetheart. We’re gonna get you somewhere warm, alright?"

You couldn't help but shiver at the term of endearment and nodded in response, knowing that any attempt to speak would probably just come out in a croak.

You didn’t remember much after that, only bits and pieces. You remember the sudden quietness as he ripped open the door of his truck and settled you down on the passenger seat. You remember him securing his jacket around your body, his hands lingering a bit too long on your shoulders.

You also remembered the absolute mental breakdown he had when his truck wouldn’t start.

He had slammed his fist into the dashboard, the impact leaving a dent in the metal, while a loud pang signified the adamantium bones beneath. He was muttering curse after curse and had his head leaned back against the headrest, eyes screwed shut, and a look of frustration and pain upon his face.

It was only when he slammed his head into the steering wheel, clearly aggravated by the failure of his truck, did the it finally decide to work.

You don’t remember the drive, only that the heat was cranked up to its maximum, and he was speeding, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tight and his knuckles turning white.

But you remember the look he gave you when he lifted you from the truck, carrying you into some off-the-road motel. For a while, you thought he actually broke into it, but he paid during your trip, both in and out of consciousness.

And now, here you were, completely swaddled in a mass of blankets, in front of a fire that Logan had made as he was pacing the room. His brows were furrowed, and he had his fingers running through his hair in an almost desperate manner. He looked stressed and maybe even a little scared.

Your mind was still foggy, and a wave of pain shot through your head. A wince escaped your lips, and you instantly regretted the noise as Logan snapped his head to you, his eyes wide and his lips parted. He strode over to you, squatting down to your eye level.

"How do ya feel?" He asked, his voice softer than usual.

"F-Freezing," you whispered, your teeth clacking together. Logan looked around frantically, unsure of what to do.

"There’s no fucking hot water in this place," he muttered to himself. "What a shit hole. Fucking cheap bastards. Shit." He continued to ramble, cursing up a storm.

"Logan," you managed to breathe out, your hand reaching out from under the covers and grabbing his bicep. The man was tense as hell. "I-It's fine."

His eyes widened a fraction at your touch before narrowing in frustration.

"It ain't fine," he said, his tone rough. "You’re freezing to the point where yer shaking like a goddamn leaf. How is that fine?"

Your brows furrowed as you tried to sit up, his arms reaching out to push you back down, but you shrugged him off.

"Logan, I'm not… I’m not dying."

He stared at you for a moment, the crease between his brows becoming more pronounced before he shook his head, the muscles of his face twitching in annoyance.

"That ain't the fucking point."

"Then what is the… the point?"

He stood up, beginning to pace again. You watched him carefully as he rubbed a hand over his face, mumbling and cursing to himself. You could feel the frustration practically radiating off him.

You were going to ask him what was wrong, what was the problem, why he was acting so strangely, when his gaze met yours and your breath hitched in your throat.

He looked so… different. You were used to his scowl and his hard features. Quite honestly, his personality was trash mixed with an added dash of salt. But now, even though he held those same hard features, your eyes took it in a whole new way.

His scowl made him seem protective and concerned. His furrowed brow seemed almost endearing, and his clenched jaw gave him a sense of determination.

It made you want to think back on the way he held you and how his arms were secured around you, making you feel all kinds of—

Warmth…

The idea that made you jolt forward, almost falling off the bed.

"Shit!" Logan was at your side in an instant, his arm reaching out and supporting you. "Are ya tryna kill yourself? Lie back down."

"No," you shook your head. "You."

He frowned. "What?"

"You," you repeated, a small smile stretching across your lips. "I need… You."

He stared at you for a moment, his face dropping into a look of confusion. It would’ve been funny if you didn't feel so damn cold.

"Me?"

"Yeah… I n-need heat," another shiver went through you. "And you’re like a furnace. An overheated dog."

"Like a what?" He narrowed his eyes.

"A… just— I'm cold, Logan." You were starting to get tired. "Please."

He blinked at you. Then, he looked at the ground, then at the bed. He was silent for a moment, and you were afraid he wouldn’t do it. But then, his hands were finding the hem of his shirt and lifting it up over his head.

It wasn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. So, why did you suddenly feel a heat spreading in the pit of your stomach despite him not even touching you yet? Why were your eyes suddenly wide and focused? Why were your lips parting and your mouth becoming dry?

There was just a perfect amount of hair trailing down from his belly button and leading down into the waistband of his jeans. It was almost like a treasure trail but thicker. His muscles were so well defined, their cords protruding from the skin, and he was flexing and twitching as he moved. His stomach was taut, and his hips were slightly visible. His chest was broad, pecs perfectly formed, and the lines between them were the most appealing things you had ever seen.

And right in the center was the all too familiar chain, with the dog tags dangling down, resting just over his sternum.

You couldn’t help but swallow thickly, a strange and unfamiliar heat washing over you. You didn’t really realize how long you were staring until he spoke.

"A lot of girls would pay good money for the view you're getting," he smirked, and the heat in your stomach only got hotter.

You averted your gaze and coughed into your fist. "Sh-Shut up," you mumbled, pulling the blankets back and slipping under the covers.

Logan sighed as he moved the blankets away from your goosebump-covered skin and settled himself in next to you.

Instantaneously, you sighed as the heat emitting from his body enveloped you while he tensed at the contact.

"Shit, you really are freezing," he grumbled.

You couldn't help the slight moan that came from you as his warm arms wrapped around your waist, his chest pressing flush against your back, and his breath ghosting the back of your neck.

You could sleep like this. In fact, you probably would because you were so tired. Your eyelids felt heavy, and the feeling of his warmth made you feel safe.

For a moment, the only noise that was heard was the crackling of the fire, both your panting breath and his, and the sound his throat was making as he swallowed.

"I, uh," his voice was lower and a lot deeper than before. It seemed to rumble through him and into your back. "I thought ya died. When I found you, I thought you were dead."

Your heart skipped a beat, and your mouth went dry. Damn, already with the emotions.

"Well, I'm not," you told him, your voice a lot softer than his. "I'm fine. I’m okay."

You felt him nod against your shoulder. "Right."

And you knew, deep down, that he was lying.

Logan was never a good liar. You knew it from the moment he stepped foot into the mansion. And this, his actions, was living proof of what a horrible liar he was.

"Logan?"

He grunted. "Hmm?"

"Why did you do it?"

You could feel the way his eyebrow quirked in confusion. "Why did I do what?"

"Follow me, and save me," you stated simply. "You had no reason to."

He was silent for a moment. "And, what? I was supposed to leave you there to die?"

"Yes."

"That ain't—"

"But it is, Logan," you said, and he was quiet once more. "You said it yourself. You aren’t a hero. So why did you save me?"

You always knew the answer. But even if you were currently freezing, you wanted to hear it come from him. It was tiringof hearing the same phrase over and over.

And clearly, you poked a nerve because in an instant, his arms were off of you, and you were being flipped over, with all the blankets thrown to the floor, only to find yourself face to face with Logan.

"Is this you pulling my teeth?" He growled, a look of anger on his face. "It sure as hell ain’t a damn good time."

You couldn’t stop the way your eyes kept flickering down his chest, his pectorals tensing as he breathed.

"You say you aren’t, but you are," you told him, not even listening to him. You were too focused on the way the flames of the fire danced along his skin. "Heroes save people. You saved me."

"This isn’t about heroism." He seethed, and the anger was evident. "It’s about you being a stubborn ass and getting yourself in a damn dangerous situation."

"Dangerous situation?" Now it was your turn to get angry. "Are you serious? Are you actually serious?"

"Who the hell just storms off to go frolicking around on top of a goddamn lake? What the fuck were ya thinking?"

"It’s called ice skating, you stupid bastard," you snapped, feeling your body returning back to a chill due to his absence. "I didn't expect it to break, and I didn’t expect to f-fall through. I don’t have f-fucking x-ray vision."

"Any person with half a brain could see how thin the ice was," he spat. "I mean, look at you! Ya, look like a goddamn popsicle."

"I was trying to enjoy myself, Logan. Something you wouldn't know anything about."

"Enjoy yourself?" He barked out a laugh. "You could've fucking died. That isn't enjoying yourself, Icypop, that's being fucking stupid."

"Don’t call me that."

"You are fucking stupid," he hissed. "Do you know what that would've done? Do ya know what it would've done to—"

"Logan," you snapped. "You… This… This is proving my point. If you truly weren’t a hero, you wouldn’t have cared. You would have let me drown and gone on your merry way."

"Anyone would have cared."

"Not anyone," you retorted, "Not everyone."

"You just think that because it's what you want to think."

"No, it's the truth."

"No, it isn’t."

"You saved me, Logan," you whispered, your eyes finding his, which were still burning with anger. "Get it through your head, you idiot. You saved me. I wasn’t even aware you had followed me, but you c-cared enough to keep me from dying. You aren’t a bad guy, Logan; stop trying to convince yourself you are. Because, clearly, you aren’t."

The two of you were staring at each other, neither of you speaking a word. Your breaths were coming out in puffs of air, while his were heavy and almost raspy. The look on his face was intense, and he was practically trembling with anger.

You couldn't tell what was running through his mind, but you had a feeling it was along the lines of, "I'm not a fucking hero. Shut the hell up," or, "Just let me believe what I want to believe."

You didn't know which one it was, but either way, it would be pointless to argue with him.

He would always try to convince himself that he wasn’t a good person. He would try to convince himself that he wasn’t meant for such things.

Even with proving the opposite in so many situations, he still would never take the hint.

And now, with the way he was looking at you, the two of you breathing in the same air, the heat of his body surrounding you, your eyes trying to forget his state of undress, it was hard not to argue.

You didn't mean to do it, but your hand lifted up, and your fingers grazed the chain of his dog tags, sending a shiver through his body.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes flicker down, taking him in for a second time, your eyes trailing down his chest and his abs before finding the patch of hair leading into his—

You swallowed thickly before meeting his gaze again. His eyes were dark, and his pupils dilated. The way his chest was rising and falling, and his jaw was clenching made it obvious he was trying to control himself.

Caught, you quickly dropped your hand and averted your eyes. You didn’t want him to see the effect his body had on you, even if you had no control over it.

"I'm not a hero," he finally whispered, and it wasn’t his words that surprised you, but his voice.

His voice was deep and raspy, and you couldn't stop the way the heat was pooling in the pit of your stomach or the way a strange feeling was taking over your mind. "But, I do care. A hell of a lot."

"Lo—"

"Don’t call me a hero for caring," his arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer to his body. "I care too much for worthless shit like that."

Your throat went dry. He was so warm, so very warm.

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours. Your breathing quickened, your heartbeat hammering in your chest. Not a single coherent thought came to your mind. All you could think about was the way his breaths lined up with yours. The way his skin was brushing against yours. How he smelled so very distinctly Logan, and the way his lips looked so very inviting.

It was taken too far when your tongue slipped out and wetted your own lips, and Logan's eyes darted to the movement.

He stared for the longest time, seemingly frozen, his chest rising and falling heavily, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. He pulled away only an inch or two, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips.

What was he thinking? What was going through his head? You wanted to ask, but you were afraid to break the silence. Afraid to say something and make him come to his senses.

So, instead, you watched his face carefully, the way his lips parted, and his pupils dilated before his eyes found yours once more. Reading him was hard, but this… this was an expression you had seen before.

It was when Jean was flirting with Scott. The way she would lean close and give him that smile, and the way his cheeks would heat, and his eyes would dart down to her lips, then back up.

This was attraction.

And it was an expression you didn't think you would see on Logan. Not for you, at least.

You were one of his close friends, but did you play nice with each other? No. Did you get along? Yes, but those rare arguments the two of you had were heated, and sometimes they didn't make sense.

Did you tease him and mess with him? Definitely.

But never did you think that would lead to this.

Logan was attractive. He was built and tall, and he was very muscular. The definition of a man. His rough, hard features only made him more desirable. And his short temper and bad attitude just drew women to him like flies. They tend to lean towards the bad boys.

You didn’t. You picked the nice ones. The kind ones. The ones who wouldn’t hurt a fly.

You had been with a couple of guys since coming to Xavier's, and all of them had been so nice and so polite, but you did come to the conclusion that they were rather boring.

You couldn't remember the last time you were flustered by a man, or the last time your heart pounded so quickly, or the last time your breath caught in your throat.

But here was Logan, suddenly giving you those feelings and making your stomach do flips. The man who pretended to be the opposite of everything you wanted in a partner was the only one making your heart race.

You didn't know if that was good or bad.

This feeling, though, felt good. Felt so very good.

The way his arm was around your waist, his hand gripping your side, his body flush against yours, his lips just inches from your own, felt too good.

The heat from his skin felt good. The feeling of his warm breath was good. His scent was good. Everything was so, very good.

You were tired, and your eyelids felt heavy. The way your limbs felt like lead and how cold you felt was getting to you. You could feel your body starting to relax.

The only thing keeping you awake was Logan.

He was still so close, and his grip hadn’t loosened. But you couldn't help it when your eyelids started to slip closed, and your body went slack against him.

Logan's grip on you tightened, his arms holding your body tighter, his breath catching, before you felt the softest of touches on your forehead.

Kisses… Kisses were being peppered across your forehead, and it made you shiver.

His lips were so soft. His kisses were so gentle. It was so different from the hard exterior he held. It was like he was a completely different person.

So, you looked up and found yourself nose-to-nose with Logan. His eyes were staring right back into yours, and there was a soft look to his features.

The hand on your waist moved and cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking the skin there.

"You need sleep," his voice was low and raspy. He was whispering as if speaking any louder would break the moment.

"That’s not what I need," you replied just as quietly, not breaking eye contact.

His brow furrowed. "What do ya need, darlin'?"

Words were hard to find and hard to put into sentences. You could’ve said a lot of things. Food, a shower, more blankets, a cup of tea, but the truth was, none of those things would satisfy you.

And the longer Logan's eyes were locked with yours, the more assured you were that what you needed wasn't any of those things.

So, instead of words, you moved your hand to gently grasp the chain of his dog tags. It held the same warmth that was emitting from his skin.

You didn’t know if he knew what you meant or if he understood what you were trying to say.

But the look in his eyes and the way his grip tightened gave you the feeling that he did.

It was silent, and tense. But, it was comfortable, and so, very nice.

You didn’t know if you had the strength to lift your body and kiss him. Or if he had the willpower to.

However, you didn’t need to make the decision. Because when he lifted your hair out of the way and buried his nose into the crook of your neck, his lips just barely hovering over your pulse, you were certain.

So, you did what any other girl would do in that situation.

Your hand tangled itself in his hair, and you pushed his face closer to your neck.

There was a growl, a deep, animalistic growl. One that shook your core from the heat in his voice, and the sound was almost enough to make you moan.

But you were surprised by the feeling of his lips pressing against your neck. You’d imagined with the way he was built, and with his personality, it would be rough and fast. But the way his lips gently caressed your neck, and the way his hands roamed your body made it seem like he wanted to take his time.

His mouth started trailing open-mouthed kisses along the expanse of your neck, his hot breath sending good shivers through your body. He sucked and nibbled, making you shiver, and the way his hand moved to caress your waist was gentle.

It was so unexpected, but it was so very welcome.

His lips traveled up your neck until they were just behind your ear, where he placed a small kiss before nuzzling his nose into your hair.

"Warm enough?"

It was the first thing he had said since your neck began being attacked, and it wasn’t a question that had an answer.

Because, while you were indeed warm, the way his hands were roaming your body and the way his lips were on you was causing an entirely different kind of heat.

And it was obvious that he was trying to get his point across. The way his hips were pressed against yours, and the way his arms were wrapped tightly around you was definitely not helping.

You knew he could smell it, your arousal. And he could most likely hear your racing heartbeat and feel the way your body trembled.

He was waiting for an answer. He wanted an answer.

"Logan," you breathed, your eyes slipping shut and your hands finding his chest. His skin was hot under your touch, and you couldn't help the way you trailed your fingers down his pecs and his abs.

He shook a bit, clearly still not used to your freezing touch, but his grip on you didn't loosen, and neither did the way his body was pressed against yours.

He was hard. Everywhere. His arms were strong, his chest was defined, and his legs were muscular. He was a brick wall, and you couldn't help but admire it.

You couldn't believe how attractive the man was.

Logan Howlett. The guy who was an asshole. The guy who would kill a man with his bare hands. The guy who was working on his temper. The guy who would accidentally pick a fight at the drop of a hat.

The guy who just saved you. The guy who cared about you.

Your hand slid down his stomach, and his muscles contracted under your touch. You were getting closer and closer until you hit the brown border that held up his jeans.

Your hand didn’t stay for long because a hand greeted you, wrapping around your wrist and stopping your movement.

Logan lifted his head from the crook of your neck, and his dark eyes stared into yours. There was a warning in his gaze, and his jaw was clenched tightly.

"Stop," his voice was low and raspy.

Your eyes searched his face, but there was nothing there. No emotion. Just a blank stare. "Why?"

"Don't."

You ignored him and tried to move your hand, but he tightened his grip, making it so you couldn’t move it.

"Logan," you whispered.

"I said stop."

You looked into his eyes and noticed something. His eyes were darker, his pupils were blown, and the look in his gaze was intense.

And it finally clicked.

He was turned on, and he was trying to keep himself in control.

And, you thought about it. If Logan were to lose control, what would happen? What would happen if the man who could slice a man open with his bare hand was in a situation like this, with his hormones raging and his self-control fading?

You didn't think much of it, but when the thought crossed your mind, a rush of arousal surged through you.

You wanted him. You wanted Logan Howlett. And it was a surprise.

He was going to say another word, but your lips captured him, and the hand on your wrist immediately released you.

It was like a switch was flipped. Logan growled into the kiss as you tugged him closer by his hair. The kiss was passionate, and the way his hand slipped under the damp shirt you were wearing was almost too much.

While his one hand was under your shirt, the other was against the bedsheet, his body leaning over you. He was hovering, but his lips never left yours.

Your shirt was gone in an instant, ripped from your body, and tossed to the floor. He paid no mind to the fact that he had ruined a perfectly good shirt, and the only thing he cared about was your bare skin.

Your lips parted, and his tongue darted into your mouth, tasting you. You could hardly keep up, his tongue dominating your mouth and his hands roaming your body.

"Lo," you managed to moan against his lips before his mouth was on yours again.

He didn't reply, but the way his fingers were trailing over the skin of your thighs was answer enough.

It was getting hot, too hot, and Logan knew that.

He pulled away from the kiss, and the string of saliva that connected the two of you broke and landed on your chest. He was breathing heavily, and his eyes were dark.

Your hair was messy, and you were still wet. Your body was shaking, and goosebumps were littering your skin.

You were looking up at him, your eyes searching his face. Your cheeks were flushed, and your chest was rising and falling quickly.

He was staring at your lips, and the way they were swollen from the kiss, and his hands were trailing along the expanse of your stomach, before moving back down to the hem of your jeans.

Logan had undone them, and his fingers were playing with the band.

Your eyes didn't leave his face, but you were surprised when he lifted his eyes to meet yours.

He was waiting for something, and when you nodded, the next thing you knew, your pants were gone. The only thing that remained was his jacket, which you still had on from your lake experience.

It felt like a distant memory, one that was fuzzy and far off. It's odd how something as traumatic and horrifying as nearly dying could turn into something as heated and intimate as this.

Logan was watching your face carefully, his hand resting on your thigh, and his eyes were searching your expression. He was waiting for any indication of doubt.

The only thing indicated was desire.

He seemed satisfied with your reaction, and his hand slowly moved further and further up your thigh before the tips of his fingers reached the fabric of your panties.

His thumb was hooked under the band, and he pulled the black fabric aside, moving his other hand to unbutton his jeans.

He pulled the zipper down, and his hand slid into his boxers.

His head fell back with a sigh, his eyes closing as his hand moved along his length.

You watched, entranced, as he pleasured himself. You didn't realize you were biting your lip until his eyes were on yours, his eyebrows furrowed, and his breaths were shaky.

He let go of himself and leaned forward, his forehead pressing against yours, as he struggled to hold himself together.

He was still waiting, and you couldn't figure out why. Why was he hesitating? Wasn't it obvious that you wanted him?

"Okay, Cowardly Lion, you can do this."

His head tilted to the side, and his nose bumped against yours. His breath fanned over your face, and his hand was gripping the side of the bed.

"Don’t call me that," his voice was gruff.

You grinned and moved your hand to the back of his neck, holding him in place. "Cowardly. Lion."

Logan growled, and you couldn't help the shiver that ran through your body. It wasn't scary. Not even close. It was hot and sexy, and it made you want him even more.

He was hovering over you, and his hand was on the side of the bed, his knuckles clenching the sheets. For a second, you believed he’d let his claws out and slice right through the mattress.

But again, only for a second.

He was watching you, his gaze locked on your face. He was staring, and his eyes were dark, and the way he was looking at you was intense.

You didn't say anything.

So, his hand moved.

And his fingers hooked under the band of your underwear, and he slowly, oh, so, slowly, pulled the fabric down.

He tossed the garment somewhere in the room, and his eyes trailed over your body.

He was staring at you, admiring your body, and the way the moonlight shone through the window made it all the better.

Your legs were spread, and you were completely naked. The only thing that was covering you was his leather jacket.

Logan's eyes moved back up your body, and he swallowed. "You’re pretty great when you’re wet."

A smirk made its way onto your lips, and you couldn't help the giggle that escaped you. "You should see me after I get out of the shower."

He growled, and the hand that was next to your head came up and grasped your chin, tilting your head back, and his mouth was on yours in an instant.

The kiss was heated, and it was a shock. Not a surprise, though. This was the original thought that went through your head. The way his hands were rough and the way his grip was tight.

This is how you expected him to be. Rough and fast. But this was not that.

This was so much better.

Your teeth clashed, and his tongue fought with yours, his body pushing you further into the bed.

You gasped into his mouth as his hand traveled back down to stroke himself a few more times before he was just outside your entrance.

You couldn't stop the whine that escaped you as his tip nudged against your core before his length started to push in.

His eyes slipped shut, and his hands caught him from falling. The bed creaked, and you could feel him trembling as he took a moment to collect himself.

When he had, there were only two things on your mind as the jolt of pain mixed with pleasure hit you.

One, you couldn't believe Logan had been holding out on you. This was amazing, and you could see yourself getting addicted to the way he made you feel.

And two, it was the way he had his jaw clenched, the way he was breathing, his hips pressed flush against yours, and the way his muscles were flexing.

He looked so good, and it was hard to focus on the fact that he was actually inside of you. His cigarette-stained breath fanned over your face, the way every time he moved slightly faster, he became more vulnerable and less guarded, the back of the throaty moans he made, the way his lips were swollen from the kissing and the biting.

All of it was a big turn-on.

His hands were gripping the bed, and his dog tags were bouncing off of his chest, hitting your skin with a cold metallic sound.

The way his hair hung in his face, and the way his eyes were dark, made him look incredibly sexy.

"Lo," you whimpered, and your nails scraped his shoulders, leaving red lines in their wake.

Of course, by the time he had reacted to the slight pain, they were already gone.

He leaned down, his arms wrapping around your body, and he held you close. He pressed his lips against your neck and sucked the sensitive skin.

It was quiet, except for the sounds of the bed creaking and the gasps and pants that slipped out every now and then. You weren’t very vocal, but that was only because you were more focused on how it felt.

And it felt so good.

It was a lot more enjoyable when it wasn’t painful, and you were more than happy that the pain had subsided and was now replaced with pure ecstasy.

He was big, bigger than you had originally expected. So, he had taken his time.

Well, not really. He had tried to, at least.

Logan had tried to hold out, but the way you had squeezed him and the way you had whimpered when he was halfway in had caused him to lose his grip on reality.

But he had tried to take his time. And that was what counted.

Your hands tangled in his hair and pulled his head closer, making him moan into your mouth.

He was moving faster, and he was losing his mind. Your lips were swollen, and the way your chest was rising and falling was amazing.

He was holding himself up, his arms flexing as his hips moved against yours, and the sound of your name falling from his lips in such a way was a sound you wanted to hear more often.

He was close. You could tell by the way his thrusts were becoming sloppy and the way he was gasping.

But you were, too.

It was the first time, the only time, you had ever experienced such an intense high. And it was a rush.

Your head fell back, and your fingers tightened in his hair as your orgasm ripped through your body. You were shaking, and your mouth opened in a silent scream as the intensity of it all hit you.

Logan followed soon after, his orgasm hitting him just as hard. His was more brutal towards you, though, as he full-on collapsed into your body, his entire weight pressing into you as he came.

It was an experience you didn't think you would ever forget. Especially when he accidentally unleaded his claws and sliced through the mattress.

"Ah, goddamn it," he sighed and slowly pulled out. He was still on top of you, but he had turned his head to the side to see the damage. "I'm not paying for this."

You were breathing heavily, and your hands were tangled in his hair, your body shaking from the aftershock.

He turned his head to look back at you, and his dark eyes studied your face.

You were a mess. You had bite marks along your neck and chest, your lips were swollen, your cheeks were flushed, and your chest was rising and falling rapidly.

Logan's eyebrows were furrowed, and his lips were parted. The way his hair was a mess, and the fact that his eyes were darker than usual made him look extremely attractive.

You couldn’t help but notice how completely out of breath he was and all the sweat and the heat radiating off his body.

He was hot, literally.

"You, uh," you swallowed and tried to keep your hands steady. "You want to take a dive in the lake?"

It took a few moments, but eventually your question had registered, and you have never heard this man laugh like he had right now. He completely lost it, and he was laughing.

And it was a deep laugh. One that could make someone feel safe. One that could make anyone fall in love with him.

His laughter died down, and he turned to look at you, the smirk still playing on his lips. "I think I'll pass."

"Oh," you breathed and bit your lip. "You don't know what you're missing."

Logan stared at you, and his hand moved from the bed to trail down your stomach. Blood was coating his knuckles from the five-second fight that had taken place when his claws had popped out, but he didn't seem to care.

You were staring at him, and the way his dark eyes were boring into yours was intimidating.

"How about," his hand slid down further, and the tips of his fingers touched your lower abdomen, "I take a dive in the shower with you instead? Can’t drown in the tub."

Your eyebrows were raised, "Am I that fragile that a simple shower will kill me?"

You were obviously joking; that soft banter had been something the two of you had always done, but there was also a hint of curiosity.

He sat up to look at you. His eyes were darker than before, and the way his hands were running along the expanse of your torso was sending shivers down your spine.

"Says the girl who slipped through ice," he leaned down, his arms caging you in, and his forehead was pressed against yours. "You really are—"

Crack.

Call it what you will: fate, destiny, bad timing, but there now, there was no way in hell he’d escape the expensive bill the motel would surely send.

The bed completely gave out.

It had taken a few seconds for it to register, the sudden drop and the loud noise. But, once you had, now it was your turn to laugh.

And boy, did you.

Your laughter filled the room, and your entire body shook. He started to blame it on the production of the bed, of course, but you knew deep down he couldn’t escape the big fat bill the motel owner was going to send.

He even got up to try to find another possible explanation, and as you pulled his jacket closer to cover yourself, you watched him try and fail to find one.

The smile never left your face, and when he turned to look at you, his dark eyes were studying your expression.

"You think this is funny?"

"Very," you grinned and leaned up on your elbows. "How about we go out for dinner tomorrow night, Edward?"

Logan's eyebrow raised, and he stared at you. You could see the visible disappointment on his face, and it was amusing.

"Alright, come on," he took hold of your arms, and pulled you out of the bed, jacket and all.

"Where are we going?" you asked and let him lead you out of the room. "The shower?"

"Yeah," he nodded, and led you into the bathroom, "I think it's time I teach you how to swim."

You grinned, "We have no hot water, remember?"

"Then, I’ll just have to make sure you don't get cold, won’t I?"

[revasserium]

know, know better

suo hayato; 3,591 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", banter, so much flirting, mentions of bodily harm (its wind breaker lol), first!kisses, semi-whipped!suo, suo will break the world for the one he loves likes, suo is a jackass gentleman exhibit 329048293

summary: the only difference between a garden and a graveyard is what you decide to put in the ground

a/n: yes, i know i've used that metaphor before in another fic for another fandom. no, i do not care. yes, i will continue to reuse this metaphor bc i love it.

001.

He sees you for the first time on the roof, and for a second, he wonders if he’s hallucinating because — well, no one else wears dresses at Fuurin other than Tsubaki-chan and he’s certain he just saw them downstairs, arm slung through Umemiya’s, squealing about a new line of glittery eyeshadows that just launched over the weekend.

“Ah — excuse me!”

“I know, I know — but I couldn’t just let the poor cherry tomatoes suffer like this! Go tell Ume-nii that he’s been neglecting — oh!”

By the time you look up, Suo is already bending over your shoulder to peer politely down into the garden trough, his single eye wide and bright and curious.

“Uwah… you seem really good at this!”

You lick your lips, tasting salt, feeling an unfamiliar heat creep up the back of your neck.

“Uhm… yeah — well —” your clear your throat and turn back towards the cherry tomato plants, reaching out with a gloved hand to flick one of the budding green tomatoes, “these lil guys need a lot of sunlight and Ume-nii let them in a patch of shade, so I couldn’t just leave them there, yknow?”

You smile as you get to your feet, Suo backing up politely, his hands tucked behind his back, his eye following the graceful lilt of your movements, the lithe, slenderness of your arms and legs. He can’t help the way his gaze catches on the hem of your skirt, the way it brushes the creamy skin of your leg just above your knees.

He forces himself to look away.

“You… must be one of the new first-years, right? I heard Kotoha-chan talking about you guys!”

Your voice is clear as a bell-chime, and almost as sweet, but its your eyes he can’t stop himself from coming back to. Irises purled with gold, limned by dark lashes that cast shadows against the round of your cheeks. He feels something inside him stutter as he tries to focus back on the way you’re reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, how the other errant strands frame your face so perfectly that he has to fight down the urge to reach out and tug the slip of hair back down.

“… your name?”

“Hm?” Suo smiles before he realizes you’re waiting for him to say something, “Ah — apologies — how rude of me. Suo Hayato, it’s a pleasure.”

He dips his head in greeting as you extend a hand.

“Pleasure, huh?” you giggle as he takes your hand in his and shakes. Your skin is warm and soft, and Suo finds — for the first time in a long while — that he doesn’t really want to let go.

002.

He sees you the second time at Cafe Pothos, laughing behind the counter with Kotoha. He pauses in the doorway and lets the sound wash over him, even as you both look over at the sound of the doorbell.

“Oh! It’s you!” your smile sets his world spinning off on it’s axis and it’s all he can do to keep it from showing. Beside him, Sakura frowns.

“You know each other?”

Suo grins, stepping over the threshold to slip into one of the bar chairs.

“Yep! We met on the school roof the other day!”

“School roof — wait, I thought there weren’t any girls in Fuurin — unless —” Sakura cuts off as he whips back towards you, his eyes wide as he looks you over once, twice — before Kotoha rolls her eyes and snaps her fingers in front of his face.

“Oi! Quit ogling my friend — and no, there aren’t any girls in Fuurin, but we do have a delivery service for the VIP clients.” Kotoha winks as Sakura’s cheeks go pink. Suo props his chin on the heel of his hand and offers you a bright smile; your mirrored smile back makes his chest squeeze.

“So… how’re the cherry tomatoes doing?” you ask, reaching out to set a traditional tea service in front of Suo, your fingers light as they pluck a tiny porcelain cup from a shelf to place it on a small, bamboo tray.

“They’re getting really ripe! I’ve been checking on them like you asked…” Suo’s voice trails off as you go about the work of putting loose leaf tea in a tea bowl and warming it before pouring out the first wash of liquid.

“How… did you know I’d like this kind of tea?”

You grin, shrugging, “I just… had a feeling.”

“It’s her superpower,” Kotoha leans over with a sly smile, “she can usually guess a person’s favorite kind of food and drink within… about five minutes of getting to know them!”

“Oh stop it — it’s nothing like that! I just… had a hunch is all.” You glance up to catch Suo staring, his gaze so intense you almost fumble the teapot in your hands. It clinks against the empty cup, but before the cup has a chance to tumble off the table, Suo reaches out with a deft hand to catch it, placing it smoothly back onto the tea tray.

There’s a faint stutter in the fluidity of your movements as you blink at the cup now sitting innocently, perfectly centered, on the tray. And then you’re reaching out to fill the cup with a steaming, golden liquid, fragrant enough to fill half the room. Even Sakura leans over with a curious sniff.

“Whoa. Smells good,” he says, “smells like…”

Suo smiles, reaching down to trace a finger along the razor-thin rim of the tiny glass, “Smells like flowers.”

003.

You are young in all the ways that teenage girls can be young, and old in the all the ways that people have to be in Makochi. Your ribs hurt, your lip’s split, and there’s an ache settling over your right eye that tells you there’s probably an incredible bruise blooming into existence there.

“Ouch… damnit… I’ve really… done it this time…” you groan as you try to push yourself up off the dark alley wall. You wiggle each of your fingers in turn and say a silent prayer when you find that they all respond. Good, you think, so nothing’s broken. **

Not yet, at least.

Footsteps to your right. Light, but hurried. You squeeze your eyes shut and brace for the worst but instead — there’s only warmth, and a soft palm cupping the curve of your face.

“Hey… it’s okay — you’re alright.”

“S-Suo…kun?”

“That’s right — it’s me —” a soft, exasperated sigh, “we were looking for you afternoon —” arms wrapping around you, lifting you up. You hear the soft rustle of bags and groan as you try to reach out but a firm hand stops you.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it.”

He doesn’t sound angry. If anything, he sounds just as measured as he usually is. But pressed up against his chest like this, you can feel the wild, racehorse hoofbeats of his heart, feel the shakiness in his every breath. His fingers are tight as he cradles you to him, carrying you from the alleyway.

“I wanted… yokan…” your voice is hoarse, and a bit ragged. Suo casts his eyes up toward the sunset sky and counts down from ten.

When he’s certain his voice won’t shake, he says —

“Eh? But the Minami tea store always sells really good yokan — why’d you… ah… you wanted to get the famous mizu yokan from across the tracks, didn’t you?” Suo sighs, gently adjusting his hold around your body, pressing you ever closer to his chest. Your breathing is shallow but even; like this, he can almost hear the faint fluttering of your heart deep inside your chest, see the soft quiver of your lashes as you shift in his arms.

“Silly girl,” he whispers, leaning down to press his lips into the seam of your hair, “next time, just tell me and I’ll go with you.”

He can sense your consciousness fading, and though the logical part of him knows that you’re in no immediate danger, he still hastens his steps, his stomach twisting inside him like a wrung-out towel, dry and aching.

“But…” he leans in; your voice is barely a whisper. He almost jumps as you reach up to trace a finger along his eyepatch, “Then it wouldn’t have been… a surprise.”

004.

“Happy Birthday!”

“Wow! Thank you!” Suo blinks for a second before his expression breaks into a bright smile. He’d had an inkling, after the “yokan-incident”, that this might’ve been the reason. But still, it twists something deep inside his gut to know that you’d gotten so hurt because of — well — something to do with him.

Even unsolicited. Even then. He detests the thought of it.

Nearly the entire first year class is there, and a good few students from the second and third years, crammed into Cafe Pothos. There’s a full traditional tea service set out on the tables, pieced together into the center of the room, and an array of tea snacks enough to make even the most ascetic eaters take pause.

“Suo-kun! C’mon, you shouldn’t keep everyone waiting, right?” Kotoha waves him towards the center table, where a multicolored display of mochis are placed in a barely legible “Happy Birthday”, each with a matching colored candle shoved into the middle.

“Sakura-kun did the mochis!” Nirei offers, pointing, seconds before Sakura smacks him upside the head.

“You don’t have’ta single it out!”

Suo takes his time, moving from person to person, chatting and laughing and thanking them in turn. There’s a softness pulsing inside him, something warm and growing, purring, curling up with a creamy, spine-deep contentment. Until he gets to you, busy wowing a group of first-year boys with your kung-fu tea skills, pouring the steaming water from higher and higher, never spilling a single drop.

“— the water can’t be too hot, or else the tea will get burnt — and that’s why sometimes —”

“Sometimes, when you make tea at home, it tastes awful and bitter, right?” Suo sits down, smiling even as he purposefully encroaches on the personal space of the freshman closest to you. To his credit, the freshman boy laughs, inching back as Suo props his chin on his palm and turns to look at them.

“A-ah… that’s really uh — cool! Wow — those shortcakes over there look really good — guys, let’s go grab some before they’re all gone!”

They scurry off, dipping their heads in your direction before ducking away.

“Mm… you’re lucky its your birthday,” you say, placing a warmed cup of tea in front of him, reaching over to slide over a glistening piece of mizu-yokan.

“Hm?” Suo takes a sip of the tea, savoring it’s depth of flavor, before taking a bite of the tea-snack.

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t be so nice to someone who’s driving off all my best customers,” you say, flashing him a knowing, indulgent smile. Suo doesn’t miss a beat.

“Your best customers?” he makes a show of pivoting towards where the clueless freshmen boys had run off to, now crowded around Sakura, laughing all too loudly, “if I didn’t know better… I’d say you need to raise your standards.”

You cock your head, hands pausing over a fresh pour of tea.

“But you do, don’t you?” you ask, resuming your movements. A second later, you place a fresh cup of tea in front of him.

“Don’t I… what?” he asks, playing at innocence.

“You should,” you parry, propping open the lid of the tiny teapot with two fingers, bending down to take a deep breath of the fragrant leaves.

The lid snaps back onto the pot with a solid click.

Suo blows at the surface of his teacup, pausing at the sound. He looks up to meet your knife-sharp gaze.

“Know — better.”

A shiver kisses up the length of his spine, and he nearly drops the fresh cup of tea. He clears his throat and takes a long sip. The heat drips down his throat, unfurling in his stomach, setting his whole body ablaze with the kind of fire that refuses to go out.

“Mm… this tea is delicious! Where’s it from?”

You shake your head, the motion just on the other side of innocent. But as you said — he knows better now.

“Somewhere… over the rainbow, I suppose.”

In a flicker, faster than a flash, he reaches out, fingers skimming along a thin line marring the perfect skin of your left cheek.

“This wasn’t there two days ago,” he says, almost casually, before his voice drops in register and his eyes go dark beneath his curtain of too-long lashes, “where’s it from?”

You make you shake off his hand but he’s too quick, catching your chin between two fingers.

“Don’t know. Must’ve been an accident.”

Suo tugs you towards him, his grip now bordering on too tight, “Ah… pretty girls like you shouldn’t make a habit of lying so much.”

You lick your lips, breath caught in your chest as you tug your face from his grasp, flicking a strand of hair over your shoulder.

“And pretty boys like you should really know better than to ask questions they don’t want to know the answers to.”

“And if I don’t?” Suo’s voice is sweet and soft and low. He sets down his empty teacup; you reach out to refill it.

“Don’t what?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

He catches your wrist, pulling up your sleeve before you can protest to reveal a series of dark bruises scattered up the length of your arm. The air around him seems to condense and cool as he stares for a second before his expression fixes itself back into one of detached sweetness.

“Know — better,” he answers, simply, letting his hand fall as you snatch your arm back, massaging the place where his fingers had been.

You narrow your eyes, but before you can say anything else, a group of boys all stumble over, singing loudly as they pull Suo back towards the center of the room, where yet another cake has materialized out of god knows where. He laughs, clapping along, blowing out the candles on instruction.

But for the rest of the night, you can’t help feeling the weight of his eyes on you, though you never again catch him staring.

005.

“They’re doing well, aren’t they?”

You jump, jerking upright even as Suo approaches you on the rooftop garden, hands laced behind his back, his earrings fluttering in the light breeze.

“Y-yeah. They really are.” You turn back to your cherry tomato plants, a few of them ripe to bursting. You reach out to pluck one off a vine, turning to offer it to the boy crouching down next to you.

He takes it from you, examining it for a second before popping into his mouth.

“Mm… sweet!”

You laugh, reaching out to tug another one off the vine. You bite into the soft flesh, feeling the explosion of flavor on your tongue.

“So much better than the ones from the supermarket, right?”

Suo sighs, nodding, but his expression sobers a second later.

“You shouldn’t have done that — just for my birthday.”

You pause, hands halfway towards another tomato. Suo reaches out to pluck it for you. As he presses it into your hand, you sigh, shaking your head.

“I didn’t do it just for you.”

“Oh?”

You roll the bright red fruit between your thumb and forefingers, holding it up to the light.

“Do you know what the difference is between a garden and a graveyard?” you ask, dropping your hand back down, your eyes trained on the plump little tomato now sitting in the palm of your hand.

“Tell me,” Suo says, watching you intently.

You turn to glance at him, a sad little smile on your lips.

“What you choose to put in the ground,” you say, before reaching out to press the cherry tomato to his lips. Suo blinks at you for a second before slowly opening his mouth to let the tomato slip through. He bites down, doesn’t reach up to wipe at the thin streak of juice slicking down his chin. He watches as your eyes flicker down, feels the pad of your thumb swipe across his skin.

He’s tugging you forward before he can stop himself; you taste the bright burst of sweet and sour on your tongue seconds before he pulls back, eyes wide. You lick your lips, expression half-shocked, half-satisfied. He opens his mouth to apologize —

“S-sorry, I should’ve asked — mmphf!”

You reach up and pull him towards you by the collar of his school uniform. It’s all he can do to catch himself against the rough ground of the rooftop garden, bits of gravel biting into his palm.

The kiss is sweet, is savory, is tentative — and then, suddenly, it bursts into something more — like a bite of over-ripe fruit, with juice sluicing down it’s seams — he surges forward, catching you around the waist. He savors in the friction of your lips against his, the teeth-aching sweetness of your warm breath as you gasp open for him, and only him. And by the gods, he tries to be a good man — a respectful man, but the tiny noise you make as he curls his fingers into the bend of your waist threatens to render all his flighty codes and morals to ash.

It is a noble pursuit, he decides later on, this of all things — to kiss you until there is no other way for you to be kissed. To kiss you just like this, until your mouth is ruined for all other tastes but the one of his tongue. He’s never thought himself a greedy man, but like this — with your body pressed to his on this rooftop garden, he thinks he might’ve learned a few more things about the depths and widths of why greed is considered such a cardinal sin.

When he finally lets you go, he’s satisfied to see there’s a dazed, unfocused haze to your eyes as you blink up at him, fingers fisted into the front of his school uniform.

“You still haven’t told me —” he leans down to press his forehead to yours, reveling in the way you gasp, the hitch in your voice as you lick your lips and he fights back a thick groan.

“Told you what?”

“Why you’d go out of the city bounds to get all those things for my birthday.”

You sigh, pursing your kiss-swollen lips.

“Because… those stores, like the earth, they… they might just need one good seed — one nice interaction —” your lashes flutter and Suo has to physically bat down the urge to lean down and kiss you again. Perhaps, he thinks, this is how dragons are made of fairy tale princes — perhaps, all the dragons ever needed was just one more kiss from their fairy tale princess.

“So… you thought to take it upon yourself to be that one nice interaction? To turn all those graveyards… into gardens?”

You crinkle your nose, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes as he pulls back to stare down at you.

“It’s a stupid thing to do, I know.”

Suo nods, “It is. But… only because you thought you could do it by yourself.”

He shifts, tugging you up into his lap as he readjusts himself to lean back against one of the taller planter boxes, his arms now comfortably looped around your middle.

“Well, if I’d told anyone… they would’ve tried to stop me.”

Suo tuts, reaching up to flick your nose with a gentle finger, “Oh ye of little faith,” he admonishes, grinning as you swat at his hand. He catches you by the wrist, pulling it in to press his lips to your palm, sighing as he nuzzles into your warmth.

“Do you really think we would’ve written off your feelings that easily? That I wouldn’t have at least tried to listen?”

You make to look away, embarrassed at your own oversight, but he tugs your chin back, forcing you to face him properly again.

“C’mon now… smart girl like you… should know better than that, shouldn’t you?”

You narrow your eyes, a feline glint alighting behind your eyes as you reach up to lace your fingers through his, leaning in with a challenge clear in your voice.

“And… if I don’t?”

Suo meets your gaze, a wide smile splitting his face as he tugs you closer, shifting your legs to settle on either side of his hips, his fingers now digging into the plush of your thighs, inching up to tease at the hemline of your skirt.

“Then I suppose… someone’ll just have to teach you better, won’t they?”

[hayatoseyepatch]

Description: Poppin' bottles, here are some headcanons of some of the Wind Breaker boys taking care of their significant other when they've had one too many. Characters: Jo Togame, Hajime Umemiya, Ren Kaji, Haruka Sakura, Hayato Suo,& Toma Hiragi. Word Count: 2.1k Contains: Fem!Reader x Multiple Charcters (separate). Fluff. Mentions of alcohol/being drunk. Slightly suggestive in some (Sakura's is borderline smutty, oops). Not proof read. cw: mentions of attempted drink spiking in Kaji's. (Drink responsibly y'all). ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Author's Note: This was a request for wbk headcannons for them taking care of a drunk partner. I hope you enjoy it, Kisa!! This was actually so much fun to write, honestly, it was just the silly/fluffy thing I needed to get me back into the swing of things post-writer's block/sickness. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it!! (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

Togame scanned the crowd, leisurely drinking from the glass bottle in his hand, his eyes never straying from your form. He snickered to himself, watching you and Choji throw your bodies around dancing awfully with one another as you both laughed loudly. It warmed his heart to see you both together, the fact that the two most important people in his life got along and were even friends never eased to bring a smile to his face. He watched the both of you have a significant stumble to your movements as he eased off the bar, heading over to where the both of you were. His hand settled on your waist to keep you upright, grinning as he leaned down to your ear. “Woah there beautiful, careful, don’t want you taking a tumble now, hm?”

He chuckled as he felt your body stiffen beneath his fingertips, only for you to relax as the sound registered to your ears and you turned in his embrace. If there was ever a moment he wanted to commit to memory, it would be the very moment your features lit up upon seeing him. Throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him down to your level to place a wet kiss on his lips. He could taste the liquor coating your lips, leaning down to scoop you into his arms, large hands holding you steady by the backs of your thighs. “Come on, dove. Let’s get you home before you regret this tomorrow.” You begin to protest, only to trail off your words as the scent of his cologne meets your nose. Relaxing in his embrace, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck, humming in contentment. “mmm.. fine but you’re carrying me home.” He chuckles once more, pressing his lips to your forehead in a sweet gesture. “I wouldn’t have it any other way darlin.”

Umemiya kicked the door closed with his foot, his arms occupied with your form as he carried you inside your shared apartment. Despite being perceived as immature, he was an older sibling and the former leader of Bofurin for years, making him a very nurturing partner. He smiles down at you, still wrapped around him like the cutest koala bear, he was glad you had a good time. Watching you dance with Tsubaki and giggling with Kotoha at the bar had filled him with happiness. Gently he sat you on the couch, kneeling in front of you, delicately removing each of your shoes, pressing a sweet kiss to each of your knees as he completed his task. Handing you a bottle of water and some painkillers to combat the hangover you were sure to have in the morning. “Did you have a good time sunflower?”

A smile breaks out on his face as you give a wobbly nod, your head bobbing in the cutest way. He picks you up once more, walking you both to the bedroom, placing you delicately on the bed as he gingerly removes your clothes. Pressing sweet kisses to your skin with each inch of it that was revealed to his eyes. “You're so beautiful honeybee.” He murmurs against your skin, forcing himself to pull away from you. You were intoxicated and Umemiya would never cross that line. He walked to the dresser, pulling your favorite sweater of his from the drawer before making his way back over to you. “Arms up, angel.” He laughs lightly when you do so, slipping the article of clothing over your form. He always loved seeing you in his clothes the way the soft fabric drowned your frame always came with a sense of pride knowing you were all his. After stripping down himself, he climbs in the bed, pulling you to rest against his chest, running his blunt nails along your scalp in a soothing gesture until he hears your breathing even out, letting sleep claim him with a smile on his lips.

Grey eyes scanned the crowd, searching for your form amongst the sea bodies in the crowded bar. He was waiting right where you left him before running off to the bathroom. There had been two men at the other end of the bar that had been eyeing you all night, and Kaji hadn’t liked that he lost track of them from his field of vision as well. He had a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. As he continued to look for you amongst the crowd he caught something moving in the corner of his vision. With lightning-fast reflexes his hand shoots out to grab the wrist of one of the men who had snuck up, by the looks of it they had intended to slip something in your drink that was left sitting with his own on the bar top. He tightens his grip, fingers digging into their skin, his threat clear as he spoke through gritted teeth as he hard cany shattered between his molars. “You so much as think about it and I break your damn wrist, got it?” He growled, leveling the man with a glare hat caused the color to drain from his face.

The other male nodded, a look of fear overtaking his expression. Kaji shoved him harshly, releasing his iron-clad grip, watching as he and his companion scrambled off disappearing into the crowd. His blood was boiling, breathing deeply to calm his raging emotions as he replaced the candy in his mouth with a fresh one. Your voice breaks through his racing thoughts, turning back to you, “Rennie, I’m back! Hopefully, you weren’t waiting too long there was such a long line.” You huff, causing his shoulders to go lax in relief. It was miraculous how your mere presence was enough to bask him in a state of calm. A small smile, one he reserved only for you, slipped onto his expression. Pulling the lollipop from his lips, he leans down to press a longing kiss to your lips. “No not at all, but why don’t we head home, sugar? It's too crowded here.” He takes your hand in his own, dragging you out of the bar. Maybe if he decorated your skin in his marks, idiots like them would think twice before trying to touch what was his.

Sakura’s cheeks were hot, blush traveling down his neck as his hands gripped your hips. Your hips moved back against his own in time with the music that blasted from the speakers. No matter how many times he had found himself in this situation with you it never ceased to get him riled up. His eyes were drawn to your hips, noting how similar you had looked the night prior, him behind you in your shared bed. How his hips met your own as he had taken you, the sounds that had spilled from your lips better than any song they could play here. Your voice pulls him out of his daydreaming, your arms now wrapped around his neck as you face him. “What's on your mind handsome?” You purred, your lips pressing themselves to his ear as you pulled him down to your level. His heart picked up in his chest at the clear public display of affection. The liquid coursing through him giving him a surge of confidence to lean down and capture your lips in his own.

Sakura wasn’t one for such public affection but the effect that you and the alcohol he consumed had on him led to him throwing his inhibitions aside. His grip on your waist was tight, trailing his lips from your own to your jaw. His mouth left open-mouthed kisses in his ascent to your ear. His voice came out husky against the sensitive skin. “Can't help thinking how gorgeous you looked last night, moving your hips back on me, that’s all baby girl” He relishes in the shiver he feels go down your spine, meeting your hooded gaze as he pulls away from you. Grinning as he rendered you speechless, taking your moment of stunned rigidness to his advantage as he lifted you easily into his arms, effectively throwing you over his shoulder. His hand comes down on your ass in a playful smack, walking to the exit of the club. “Let's get you home kitten, lets see if we can't have a repeat of last night, yeah?” In that moment you swore you needed to get him tipsy more often.

“I know I know aren’t I just the worst?” Suo teases as your nose scrunches up, attempting to get you to drink the herbal tea he had prepared for you, knowing it would combat the hangover you were bound to have the next morning. He laughed at you, amusement present in his tone. “I know sweet baby, I know it isn’t coffee. But if you drink it you won’t wake up with a nasty headache tomorrow, now go on. Drink up my love.” He coos, you were absolutely adorable like this, refusing the tea he had brewed for you after getting you to eat something. He was patient, caring for you delicately as he had taken you home. Ignoring the way you had pressed your lips to his neck, the way your hands roamed his form in the back of the uber you both had taken home. He had a might high tolerance for alcohol than you did, so much so it didn’t sit right with him to take advantage of you when you were like this. He rested his chin in his hand as you begrudgingly began to drink the tea, eyes soft with adoration as his eyes drank in your features. “Now that wasn’t so hard was it babygirl?”

He ushered you off to the bathroom next, grabbing a cloth to moisten in micellar water as he began to remove your makeup. “Can’t have you breaking out because you slept in your makeup baby.” He hums as he washes your face, patting it dry before applying your nighttime moisturizer. “There isn’t that all better? There’s my beautiful girl.” He smiles pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. Taking your hands in his own he leads you to your shared bed, climbing in with you. He was sure to maneuver you so you weren’t lying on your back in case you got sick. “Come now starlight, let's get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning, my beloved.” He begins to hum a soft tune, knowing it would lull you to sleep. He sighed in contentment as he felt you relax against him, removing his eye covering as he curled around you protectively. Pressing one last kiss to your temple with a declaration of love before letting his eyes close. 

Hiragi heaved a deep sigh, fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. This had been the third time he had lost you tonight, you had kept slipping from his grasp, testing his patience with how slippery you had become. He was happy you were enjoying yourself, overjoyed even, your happiness was all he wanted after all, But every time he turned his back to get you water or something to eat to combat the alcohol you had consumed you managed to wiggle away from him. His ears perked hearing the sound of your laugh, following its melody. It led him to the end of the bar, both you and Umemiya throwing back another round of shots, the two of you perking up when he came into your line of sight. His eye twitched, why couldn’t you be best friends with anyone else? Why not Sako or Kaji? Those two were far more responsible and far less reckless than the man standing before him. Popping a ablet of his stomach medication from its sleeve into his mouth to combat the indigestion you both were sure to bring him.

“Hey, Hiragi!” Umemiya threw a heavy arm over the blonde’s shoulder his boisterous laughter meeting his ears. “Come drink with us!” His words were slurred and his movements unsteady as he dragged him over to where you both were previously standing. He sighed taking a seat in the booth, opening his mouth to protest, only to shut it as you laid your legs across his lap, arms wrapping around his neck as you nuzzled close to him. “Hi my Toma.” You cooed, nose rubbing against his cheek in a pseudo-kiss, before resting your head on his shoulder, humming contentedly. “You’re so handsome. Have I ever told you that?” You spoke so softly adoration filling your tone. His cheeks darkened, supporting your body against his own, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he rested a large hand on your back to steady you against him. He supposed your slippery nature when intoxicated wasn’t all bad, especially when it meant he got to see this side of you.

Dividers by saradika-graphics. Writing & character banners by me. If you enjoyed it, consider taking a look at my masterlist: here.

[kurokawaia]

❛ HIS THIGH KINK ❜

Kaji Ren X fem!Reader

WC; 1.4k+ | TW/CW; kaji and you are in an established relationship, afab reader, x fem! reader, nsfw, thigh kink (obvi), mating press, slightly rough sex, piv, prone bone, no protection (pls wrap before u tap), cum eating, kaji is a lil mean >.<, slight manhandling?? implied orgasm denial, no plot just smut + probably more

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮 :: it's no mistaking that out of the three, ass, boobs, and thighs, that thighs are his favourite.

m.list | wind breaker m.list

Your legs were thrown on to his shoulders as his dick lay inside your drenched folds, prodding beautifully against the spongey spot in your gummy walls. Kaji's mouth was pressed tightly against your own, his tongue intertwining with your own as his hips rolled into yours, slowly.

The moans that slipped past your lips were swallowed by Kaji, who was eagerly relishing in the moment. His pretty girl trying so hard to keep up with him, your legs over his shoulders where your knees were next to your head on either side.

Kaji pulls away from you lips, a whine emitting from your mouth at the loss of contact, just wanting to be close to him. "Quiet," he mumbles into your ear before flipping you over onto your stomach, a small huff of surprise falling from your swollen lips.

His weight was heavy against your own, your breasts being squished by the mass pushing you tightly to the mattress. Kaji's abs were prominent against your back, you could feel the shape and crevasse of them.

Kaji's hands moved slowly, changing his grip so that one of his hands held both of you over your head, being cautious not to get your hair entangled within the movement. A content sigh leaves your mouth as Kaji raises his body ever so slightly.

His free hand followed the length of your silky back until his fingertips met your sleek entrance. The gasp that came from both his fingers slipping past your throbbing clit and his weight gently lifting off your body to allow you to breathe.

You gasp at the abrupt action of him sliding a finger into your cunt as he murmurs, "Look at you," against your ear before nibbling at the flesh.

Then, you groaned at the slight touch as a thick, pulsating tip pressed against your clit. You attempted to wriggle out of the enjoyable situation, but Kaji was more familiar with your physique than you were, so he anticipated your attempt to flee from his body in response to the pleasure. That's why he weighed down on you again.

When Kaji plunged his pulsating cock into your soft walls, you held your breath as every curve in your soggy cunt pinched his length. You both let out a moan when Kaji's length touched the centre of your being.

Kaji groans, "Look at you, taking me in so well." You sigh with pleasure; he understood that you were somewhat of a worshipper and that you relished his words, which had a profound effect on him and caused him to stutter.

However, he remained motionless, content to observe your need to create friction and your inability to move away from his contact. Kaji's penis poked so far into your gelatinous walls that it caused you to whimper with ecstasy, yet it didn't stop him from remaining motionless. He was still comfortably warm inside.

Warm and dense kisses extend from your ear to the hollow of your neck and end at your shoulder. A panting exhalation left your mouth open before Kaji inserted his hips into yours. A soft groan escapes your lips as his dick grazed every tender spot in your pussy.

"Ren!" you murmured, annoyed at his slow motions.

Kaji's knees split your legs wide apart, guaranteeing that any move on your part would be met with resistance, keeping you positioned beneath him, your attractive physique appearing insignificant next to his huge size. He anticipated that you would be immobile in his ensnaring grasp.

His motions quickened, and as strained grunts and whines from your throat, his cock plunged into the bottom of your eager hole. Your cunt fluttered tightly around Kaji's length as he was panting in your ear and occasionally letting out a deep groan.

Kaji was giving you the full effect, making me scream with satisfaction as his pulsating pink tip found that soft, sticky region in your cunt. He sighed, "Shhhh," and you moaned and sighed, your body trembling with ecstasy. "Take it," Kaji grinned.

Your body attempted to curve away from the pleasure, unable to withstand Kaji's powerful hip rolls, but as you turned your back on him, his thrusts only went farther and harder into your G spot. You cried, mascara running down your face, "But, 'Kaji, too much. "Go slowly, you're going too fast."

He sighs, "That doesn't matter, you're going to take it," observing your thighs quiver beneath him as his hips begin to move more quickly. He loved how your cunt squeezed his cock despite your wishes for him to slow down. He found your words to be contradictory, as you were depriving your body of the release it so desperately needed.

As he hammered into your tight heat, you let out repeated groans. It was as if an instinct had taken hold of you, forcing you to press into his length, but you were powerless against his increasingly powerful thrusts because of his weight.

"So big, you feel so big, Ren!" you cry out mewling. "Please, I wanna come."

"You'll cum soon," Kaji says, pulling your lips into a kiss, he pulls away, watching the saliva break. "Just keep making those pretty noises for me."

You were on your back once more, put your pulsating hole was filled with nothing, his cock laying between your folds. Your legs thrown over his shoulders once more. Kaji was teasingly rubbing his length against your clit, wanting to look at you tremble beneath him and how your thighs quivered.

"R-Ren!" you whimper out.

Kaji scoffs, "you can take it."

He rubs his shaft again through your puffy folds and you whimper as tears well once more in your eyes in the need for him inside me, your thighs clamp shut, ripping from his clamp-like hold. Kaji lets out a moan at the tightness from the grip of your thighs clamped around his shaft. "Look at you. So pretty," He mumbles trying to keep his moans in. "Stay like this for me, my love."

Kaji was in a fog from your soft thighs hugging his length so closely; it made him feel elevated. Although he adored every aspect of you, there were moments when the softness and squishiness of your thighs sent him reeling.

Too overwhelmed and dependent to act otherwise, you comply. He pushes forcefully back and forth between your thighs, squeezing your thighs closer together while clitting against your folds, causing us to both sigh and complain. His balls bump up against your ass base.

As he continues to drive in between, I wriggle and moan in despair as one of his hands leaves the soft skin of your thighs to stroke your clit. You groan, "Feels s' good, Ren," causing him to sloppily force himself farther into your cosy cocoon. "'m love you, Ren. Making me feel so good," you say, slurring as you hear his whimpers get louder, indicating that he is about to be released.

"Gonna cum," He pants as his load spills onto your lower abdomen, some gooey liquid still seeping out of his bulging tip. Just by looking at your cunt and inner thighs covered in his cum, Kaji is almost back, almost coming again. Your chest heaves from the release as you wash over your second orgasm of the evening.

Your legs are carefully placed on the bed when he gently removes them from his shoulders. He hears you whimper as you felt his shaft being drawn away from your entrance and you covered your face with a wince. You could feel Kaji's warm breath caressing your skin and his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses along your neck. He spoke to me in a whisper, his words comforting and loving.

"See, you took it," Kaji mumbles

Kaji's body changed, his back now resting on the wooden headboard as his weight was gradually adjusted in the direction of the pillows. He ran his fingers through his tangle of hair. You shakily sit up, straddling his hips and snuggling up against him because you love the way his arms are wrapped around you.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | wind breaker m.list

[artszweig]

spring breakers.

summary: New apartment, new bed, same boyfriend. Some things need to be broken in. (18+)

pairing: stanford!fem!reader/stanford!art warnings: smut, oral sex (f!receiving), humping, pet play, puppy!art, soft femdom, mommy kink, sub!art, dom!reader

wc: 824 a/n: yes guys im on that petplay shit sue me... this is my first published blurb so come say hi..!!

₊‧.°.⋆•˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.⋆•˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.⋆•˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.⋆•˚₊‧⋆.₊‧.°.⋆•˚₊‧⋆.

It was your idea to move out of the residence halls and into an apartment. Art didn't protest -- you had an entire speech prepared if he did, explaining the financial and romantic benefits of moving into an apartment for the next school year. He didn't need to hear any of it, instead telling you that he wouldn't mind a bigger place.

Neither of you expected how much work it would be. Finding your own furniture, buying your own food... the list goes on. School started in a week and a half and you both felt grossly underprepared, Art preoccupied with tennis training and you with moving in and working part-time.

Art was on the court when you moved the full-size mattress to your (now shared!) bedroom. When he came home, sweaty and worn-out, to the mattress already set up, you could almost see the joy spill out of him -- "I can't believe you did all of this on your own, oh my God," and "thank you so much for finishing up!"

And that's how he ended up between your thighs, graciously repaying you for your hard work. Your back was pressed to the mattress with your knees parted while Art found his place between your legs.

"Mommy," Art sighed, nuzzling his cheek against your inner thigh, "mommy, please."

"What do you need, baby? 'Please' what?" You didn't reach to pet his head, not yet. You waited until he showed you he deserved it.

Art whined.

"I need to," he panted like a dog, "to -- to lick."

As a reward, you rested your hand on top of his head, "okay, you have permission. You can; go on, lap it up."

You saw the tension melt from Art's body, the buildup finally releasing as he dove into your pussy. You're already wet but Art slobbers, making you unsure which wetness belongs to you or him.

Under you, Art groans like it's his cock that pushed into you -- and to him, it might as well have been. His eyes are closed as he licks at your clit, somewhat inexperienced but desperate enough to make it work.

It's mainly the desperation that gets you off.

Art's tongue makes it way down from your clit to the opening of your pussy and presses and wiggles and presses. It's like he's trying to swallow you whole. His moans rise in pitch and volume and you look down your body to see --

Art's head buried in your pussy while his hips rock against the mattress.

"Oh," you say between breaths, "oh, baby..."

You feel your body get hotter as you watch Art weakly thrust against the mattress as he continues to eat you. The angle isn't right and you're sure it's uncomfortable, but friction is friction and Art takes what he can get. His hands are busy spreading you apart, one hand on each of your thighs to keep you open for the entirety of his warm, wet mouth.

Your clit is entirely engulfed by him -- his tongue moves from inside of you to back on your clit where he sucks and licks.

"Come on, baby," you tug lightly at his hair, "be good."

Art's hips jerk while his mouth got sloppy. He moaned open-mouth into you, entranced by the way his cock felt pressed against the mattress.

"Are you gonna cum, baby?" You asked, but you knew the answer -- you could tell by the way his body stiffened up and his breaths were uneven and laboured.

"Mmph --" Art choked, "Mommy -- Mommy!"

You pet his hair, stroking him lovingly. This was his treat.

"It's okay, puppy, you can."

Art pulled his mouth away from your pussy, clenching his jaw tight. You couldn't fully see him cum, but you watched his body freeze and tense when he gave one last frenzies hump.

When he was done, he pressed his cheek against your thigh. His eyes were glazed over, completely fucked-out.

"Come on, finish Mommy off." You gently tugged him by the hair, leading him back to your pussy.

He was slower this time, more deliberate in his licks -- intentionally or not.

Art laid his tongue flat against your clit and bobbed his head up and down. You couldn't help but bear your hips down on his mouth, gently fucking his face. His eyes were shut and his mouth was pliant -- you could do anything you want to him like this.

It didn't take much longer for you to cum after rutting yourself against Art's tongue.

"Art, baby," you gasped, "I'm going to cum in your warm little mouth, okay?"

Art only moaned. You shouted when you finally came and pulled on Art's hair, making him take all of you at once. He cleaned it all up with his tongue, swallowing anything you gave him.

Beneath you, you could hear him mutter "thank you Mommy, thank you..."

You and Art spend the next day cleaning a new cum stain out of the mattress.

[dfortrafalgar]

God, Finally

You're both tired of playing chicken each time you try to have sex.

Law x Fem Reader

Warnings: MATURE 18+, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS INTERACTING WITH THIS POST WILL BE BLOCKED, fluff, fluff and smut, first time, soft law, mutual performance anxiety

Author's note This was born because I wanted to write a more realistic smut about the awkwardness that can sometimes come with sex for the first time, especially with someone as intricate and complex as Law.

Also posted on AO3

You wanted it.

Law wanted it.

Both of you made it very obvious that you wanted it.  Your flirtatious glances toward your stone-cold boyfriend tossed innocuously over the galley dining table, or the way Law formed the addicting habit of running his lanky, inked fingers across your waist when passing you through the tight corridors of the Polar Tang, unnoticed by anyone else on the crew, but scorching through your jumpsuit like a hot ember.  The intense love you had for each other was clearly reciprocated.  You often dreamt of moments spent with the raven-haired man under the thin sheets of his bed in his quarters, running your own hands along his defined shoulders or ghosting along his heavenly abdomen.  Likewise, Law would often use his time alone in the shower to release his feelings for you, utterly infatuated with every aspect of your body and soul.  The kindness of your heart was just as alluring as the way your favorite dress hugged your body like it was sculpted just for you, and Law couldn’t get enough.

And yet, despite all of the deep, intense feelings shared between the two of you, everything would dissipate the second things got moved to the bedroom.

The first time you and Law tried anything, you were straddled across his lap on his bed, his thin sheets and one lonely pillow tossed to the side as your lips ghosted over his collarbones in tandem with his hands working to remove the tanktop you wore under your boiler suit.  You had gotten as far as both of you being shirtless when things suddenly got awkward, as if a circuit breaker popped.  No spark between either of you.

You sat atop Law’s hips, no indication of arousal anywhere to be found below his waist.  You, similarly, felt nothing.  As your eyes locked with his confused, almost frightened, golden ones, all the sexual tension that had built up within the small metal confines of his private room was gone as if it was never there in the first place.

“You… uhm…” Law tripped over his words, and flushed a deep crimson after damaging his own ego with his obvious nervousness.  “You look nice.”

You blinked.  “Thanks…?”

Neither of you really knew what happened, but after you pulled your shirt back over your head and carefully hopped off of his mattress, the two of you didn’t speak for the rest of the day after that.  Things were pretty much back to normal after a few days of taking some time for each of you, and the next time you tried was about 10 days after your first failed encounter.

You were once again back in Law’s quarters, this time kneeling on the cold metallic floor as you gazed up at him with hungry, ravenous eyes.  Some dirty talk was successfully bounced between the two of you, and quite frankly, you were pretty desperate to suck his dick despite not yet having seen it for yourself.  Law was already enjoying the feeling of grabbing your hair in his fingers, loving the way your eyes fluttered shut with the sensation of his firm yet tender grip on your head to guide his lips to yours as he hunched over you.  You kissed your way through undoing the belt of his speckled jeans, pulling the faux leather through his belt loops and discarding the accessory to the side on the floor.  You made quick work of his button, then his fly, his hips lifting to allow you to shimmy his pants to his knees.  He was hard, painfully so, and his dick truly looked as pretty as you imagined it would.  

But when your lips finally separated from the steamy kiss and your focus was directed solely on his erection, all the confidence you had built up packed up its bags and said it was going out for cigarettes.  Your hands rested limp on Law’s thighs, his hands resting on the edge of the mattress.  He stared blankly at you staring at his dick.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.  He could already feel his own arousal leaving, blood once again flowing back to his brain.  With the extra oxygen, he started to worry if he was the problem.

“No, nothing’s wrong, I just…” you faltered, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Oh.”

Just like your first encounter, your second attempt ended in utter failure.  You awkwardly stood up, brushing invisible dust off of your knees before uttering a quick apology with your head dipped.  You quickly made your way out of his quarters, leaving Law sat befuddled, dick having gone completely flaccid in record time.

Two more additional, and equally as mentally painful, encounters happened since, and in the weeks that passed, the two of you started to develop your own individual anxieties.

Law was petrified that he was the problem.  He was worried that he was moving too quickly for you, being too forceful and making you afraid to speak up.  The last thing he wanted was to lose you over something so trivial, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t desperately want to finally lay with you.  He had kept it to himself that he has never had sex, though to most in his life that was obvious as he often drowned himself in his work and duties as a pirate captain without leaving much room for random hook-ups.  Until now, where he desperately wanted it.

You on the other hand, were anxiety ridden over the thought that Law would, in fact, leave you over something so trivial.  You kicked yourself each time you chickened out of an act, leaving your flustered boyfriend alone and frustrated.  The only thing holding you back was your lack of real experience beyond removing the clothes, and the uncertainty and unknown territory that came with made you jitter with nerves.  You would try to hype yourself up in the mirror in the crew washroom, lightly slapping your cheeks and pouting your lips and mouthing encouraging nonsense to yourself, only to see Law and end up only sleeping with him, and not actually sleeping with him.

You were getting tired of your own impatience, and Law was getting tired of being anxious.

---

You woke up in the late morning to a beam of sunlight from the porthole in the crew bunkhouse tinting the inside of your eyelids dark red.  With a grumble, still fairly tired from your night watch shift, you sat up and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.  On a typical day, the cloudless blue sky and warm weather of a spring island supply docking would be the perfect thing to lift your mood, but in the midst of your sexual frustrations, there was nothing to be content about.  You proceeded through your day as usual, assisting with upkeep of the submarine and helping the engineers with a few maintenance jobs that had been discovered after your latest underwater excursion.  It was this time spent alone with Ikkaku, both of you dirtied with sour oil as you dismantled one of the primary engines, that you couldn’t hold it in anymore.  You needed advice, desperately.

“Ikkaku, mind if I ask you something?” you began, casually, biting down your nerves.

“Of course, what’s goin’ on?” she replied.  

The two of you had formed a very close sisterly bond since you joined the crew, Ikkaku delighting in no longer being the only woman aboard a submarine crawling with men.  You were able to talk about anything with each other without shame or embarrassment.  And yet, the flustered feeling that tingled in your cheeks as you processed how to ask your question alerted your curly-haired crew mate to your desperation almost immediately.

Ikkaku leaned over in her dirty boiler suit, bumping her shoulder with yours.  “Relationship trouble?”

“Yeah,” you grumbled, hand gripping a torque wrench and slowly tightening a lug nut on the engine in front of you.  “It’s really embarrassing to ask, but…” your voice trailed off, tongue tying as you fought tooth and nail with your own vocabulary for how to voice your concern.  “How do you know when you want to have sex?”

The look Ikkaku gave you didn’t help your feelings of inadequacy, but she was clearly trying to maintain a neutral expression.  “Can I ask what you mean by that?  Did something happen?”

“Any time Law and I try to… you know…” your wrench slipped out of its hold on the nut, and you grumbled.  What an ironically fitting allegory.  “We just end up chickening out at the last minute.  I feel like there’s something wrong with me and I’m scared that he’s going to get fed up.”

Ikkaku nodded, focused on your words as well as her own work.  “So you’re a virgin?”

You huffed.  “Yes.  Unfortunately.”

Ikkaku chuckled, but tossed you a sympathetic glance.  “Hey, it’s nothing to be ashamed about, seriously.  We’re all busy pirates, we’ve all come from crazy lives, no one is expected to have sex at a certain time.  There’s no sense in rushing something like that.”

You smiled at her words of reassurance, but that nagging anxiety still clawed to the forefront of your brain.  “But even when we do have time, why do I always end up chickening out?  And why does he?  I feel like he’s disgusted with me.”

“That can’t be it.  He looks at you like you’re the most perfect thing to walk on this planet, and everyone can see it.”

Blood rushed to your face at the revelation of Law’s longing glances apparently being public knowledge amongst the Heart Pirates.

“Clearly you really want to take that next step with him, but I think the anticipation of it being some grand life-changing event might be scaring you off from the moment.”  Ikkaku spoke freely, and her words did make sense.  She continued.  “I know there’s a big expectation of having sex as soon as possible, but that’s just not the reality most of the time.  If sex is something that you feel that you need, and that feeling is mutual, then the moment will come naturally with time.  And if it turns out that you realize it’s an attraction that you don’t feel, then that’s fine too!”  The brunette adjusted her seat on the floor, crossing her legs and grabbing a dirty rag off to the side to wipe her muddied hands on.  “The anxiety of the expectation is scaring you, basically.”

Your eyes were clearly widened at the revelation, as a hearty laugh left Ikkaku’s lungs at, what you assumed was, the dumbfounded expression on your face.  Your shoulders hunched and you stared forward, all of your emotions suddenly making a lot more sense.  All you could successfully mutter in response was a quiet, “Huh.”

“Did I get it right?” she inquired, leaning over to you and laying her head on your shoulder, a bright smile on her lips.  

You laughed at her gesture, leaning back into her.  “I think you did, actually… Do you think it’s the same thing for him?”

Ikkaku nodded affirmatively without hesitation.  “Oh, absolutely.  This crew is full of horny dudes stuck on a submarine together, you hear the way some of them talk.  Between you and me, I know Law’s never had sex either, and the things he hears from his own crew about ‘men needing to have sex as soon as possible’ and the like,” she gestured her statement with air quotes, “It messes with his head and makes him all anxious.  He clearly wants to do anything to make you happy, and I bet his own anxiety is inhibiting him from taking the next step.”

Something clicked in your mind once more at that moment.  You knew Law had performance anxiety in battle, you had not only seen it once or twice, but had heard plenty of stories from his crew about his inability to maintain self control when around certain people.  The thought of him having performance anxiety in the bedroom, with you, made your heart ache.  You zoned back in, locking your eyes with Ikkaku who was gazing at your face to examine your expression.

She tapped her oily finger on the forehead, leaving a slight smudge.  “I’m probably right!”

You laughed, taking the clean heel of your palm and pressing it to her forehead to wipe the smudge off of her skin.  She yelped in response, laughing along with you.  “Thank you Ikkaku, really.”

“Of course, that’s what I’m here for!”

The two of you continued your work with light conversation bouncing back and forth, and as you packed up your tools to head to the galley for dinner, Ikkaku tapped your thigh when you stood.

She gazed up at you, brown eyes twinkling mischievously.  “Get that dick, sister.”

“Shut up!” you bantered back, hiding your flustered face from view as your friend boldly laughed.

You began the fairly long trek from the engine room to the galley, which was two floors above you and on the complete other end of the submarine.  You stashed your tool box in a nearby maintenance closet before continuing your walk, rubbing your oil-stained hands on your jumpsuit.  It was almost laundry day, anyway.  As you rounded the corner into the confined space where one of the many ladders was kept, you bumped into the very man who set your heart racing.

Law was clearly caught off guard by your sudden appearance as well, having just climbed down the ladder and was turning around as you appeared.  Red instantly tinted his cheeks, but he paired it with a very faint smile at your presence.  “I was just about to get you for dinner, I didn’t want you to get too lost in your work.”

“Get me?” you asked, smiling.  “How thoughtful!  I just finished up, actually.”

“That’s good,” he responded, voice quiet.  You stepped further into the ladder well, making an attempt to reach your hand out toward a metal rung before Law’s wrist stopped you.  You gazed at him.

“Can we talk after dinner?  In my quarters?”  Before you had a chance to grow anxious over the ambiguousness of his words, the raven-haired man leaned down to press a warm kiss to your jaw.  “I’m not breaking up with you, I promise.”

You laughed, worry immediately seeping out of you.  “Thank goodness,” you sighed in relief.  “Of course.”

It was only then that Law gestured for you to climb the ladder, following close behind you.  You yelped when he poked a lanky finger into the plush of your ass cheek through your boiler suit, and you playfully batted his hand away.  Despite the (assumed) shared anxiety of your escapades behind closed doors, you were relieved and thankful that your relationship hadn’t soured in any way.  Law was truly too good for you.

The walk to the galley and dinner with a few of the crew members was filled with idle chit chat about your days, but you couldn’t miss the way Law’s knee was constantly bouncing with urgency.  He finished his meal first, making his way toward his quarters.  You waited a few moments to follow him, not wanting to draw suspicion from your crewmates.  Everyone knew you were in a dedicated relationship with their captain, but you liked to avoid any awkward comments when you could.  You made your way to Law’s room quicker than you thought you would, floating on your feet with nervous anticipation.

Law, meanwhile, was so anxious his hands were shaking in his bespeckled pockets.  He was unsure whether or not to tell you that he had a very emasculating conversation with Shachi and Penguin earlier in the day about what they referred to as his, “Intense performance anxiety.”  He didn’t appreciate that his feelings had a dedicated term, but he also couldn’t deny that their entire conversation made a whole lot of sense.  Despite his two best friends’ track record of being fairly immature about contact with women, they were surprisingly helpful in getting him to unpack why he would shut down any time he gazed at you without your clothes on.  While it made him feel like a pervert, Penguin was quick to shut down this feeling and chalked it up to, once again, Law’s built-in self-deprecation.

“It’s not your fault that you have performance anxiety, you just gotta talk it out!” Penguin had said, surprisingly emotionally intelligent.

Law made a mental note to sincerely thank the two of them at some later date.

You were quick to catch up to the taller man, rounding the corner just as he opened the door to his quarters.  He grinned nervously as he held the door open for you, watching as you scampered inside.  He closed the door behind him, subtly locking it.  You kicked off your work boots and shrugged off your dirty boiler suit, tucking it safely away in the corner of his room so none of his belongings would get soiled by the oil that still remained on your clothes, before approaching his bed and sitting on the edge of the mattress.  Law sat next to you, gazing at his hands, tattooed thumbs anxiously fidgeting.

“Take your time,” you said quietly, leaning over to nudge him.

“Thanks,” he replied in a hushed tone, the ghost of a smile fleeting over his face.

You patiently sat next to him, gazing at your own hands before he finally spoke up.

“So, I learned something today,” he began.

You picked your head up.  “Go on…”

“Penguin said I have ‘performance anxiety.’”  He used two fingers to gesture air quotes.

You tried to calm your nerves.  Ikkaku’s voice in the back of your head was right on the money.  He was just as nervous about the potential of disappointment as you were.

“I learned something today, too,” you added.

Law turned his head to face you.

“Ikkaku told me that I’m ‘scared of disappointing you.’”  You gestured your own air quotes, a melancholic smile on your face.

Your eye contact with Law lasted for a few brief moments before you burst into a nervous fit of giggles.  Law couldn’t help but follow suit, his own silent chuckle making his shoulders bounce as he hid his small grin behind his fist.

“Guess we’re both all messed up,” he sighed, studying your expression.

You hummed.  “I really did realize that today, though.  I never wanted to keep chickening out of being closer to you…” you took a deep breath before continuing.  “I’ve just never had sex before, and I think I really was inherently scared that I would disappoint you, or not be good enough.”

Law nodded, bowing his head and lowering his hand to dance his fingers over your own.  “Yeah… me too.”

A silence that was slightly less awkward now permeated the space, and you shuffled closer to your boyfriend.  He embraced the warmth that radiated from your body, finding solace in the way you sent electric chills up his spine.

“I’m glad it’s mutual.  I know that sounds bad, but it makes me feel less… inadequate?” you added.

“You’ve never been inadequate,” Law replied.  He was about to add that he was the inadequate one, but Shachi’s stern voice bounced around Law’s skull that said ‘BE CONFIDENT IN YOURSELF.’  Law knew you loved him for everything he was, so who was he to tear himself down like that when you only saw his flaws as the things that made him so beautiful?  He wanted to finally make you understand that as well.

“Thank you, Law.”  You dipped your head into his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.  “You’ve been so patient with me.”

“Likewise,” he whispered, hand above yours moving to lace your fingers together.  His heart was beating madly in his ribcage.  If one were to tell him earlier that day that he’d be metaphorically pouring his heart out for you later that evening, he would’ve scoffed in response, and yet here he was.  As foreign as the feeling of being vulnerable still was for him, he was finding it easier and easier to open himself for you, expose everything inside him for you to consume.  A year ago, or even some months ago, he would shut down that notion with a firm scowl and reinforce the concrete walls around his soul, but you would only break through them with something stronger.  And he loved that about you.  He loved you so deeply, more intimately than any other love he had ever felt.

He stiffened slightly when you moved your head out of the crook of his shoulder, your hairs dancing along the sensitive skin of his neck.  You picked your head up, and planted a deep kiss on his lips.  He watched through half-lidded eyes as your own fluttered closed, releasing your hand from his grasp in order to lace your arms around his neck.  You were pushing into him so deeply that he felt as though you were trying to fuse yourself to him.  Who was he to say no to such a request?

His hands found purchase on your waist, squeezing the flesh of your belly through your shirt.  A sound, something between a giggle and a moan, left your mouth, and you pulled away from the kiss with an embarrassed smile.

“That tickled,” was all you said.

With your arms still draped around his shoulders and neck, you let gravity pull you down onto his bed, Law following you willingly, supporting himself above you with his forearms next to your head as he captured your lips in a kiss that took your breath away.  The feeling of his lips, slightly chapped yet scorching like a flame, and the faint taste of coffee that always lingered on his tongue was already addicting, but even more so when he parted his teeth and captured your bottom lip in a gentle, teasing graze before diving in for more.

Law’s heartbeat tripled when he felt you smile against his mouth, a grin so delightfully beautiful that he wished he could kiss you for the rest of his life.

(Who was stopping him from fulfilling that wish?)

Running out of oxygen, which he knew he desperately needed in his current state of pre-arousal, Law pulled away from your lips and chuckled warmly at the whine you released from your lungs.  His golden eyes analyzed every detail of your face, your eyes half open, gazing up at him as if he was the only thing in the world that mattered to you.  The way your cheeks were warm with your flush, radiating to his own skin, and the way your lips were kiss-swollen and pouting for more.

“God…” Law groaned.  “I need you so bad.”  In any normal circumstance, he would be humiliated at himself over his brazen statement and attitude.  This was not a normal circumstance, and he was finally ready to relinquish that notion.

“Then take me, Law,” you responded, voice so light and airy that it was almost a whisper.  “Finally take me, please.”

Once again, however, Law felt himself falter.  “Really?”

Instead of growing frustrated, which his pent up anxiety told him you would, you huffed out a bright laugh.  “Yes, Law, yes!  You just kissed my brains out, we can’t play chicken again.”  You finished your statement by lifting one of your legs, slotting it in between Law’s thighs and brushing over the swollen spot at the front of his jeans.  The man above you sucked in a breath.

“Okay… okay we’re doing this.”

“We are.”

“And you’re really okay with it.”

With a light-hearted groan, you pulled the man back down into another fiery kiss, using the distraction to trail your hands from his waist to his chest, pulling his shirt up with you.  He adjusted himself so he could support his weight on his knees as he caressed your own skin through your shirt, his calloused hands forgoing their inked marks as they ran soothing touches across your abdomen, following your lead by pulling your shirt up and over your head.  You took advantage of sitting up yourself to loop your hands behind your back and unclasp your bra, lazily throwing it off the bed to join your two discarded shirts on the floor.  Your bold hands resumed their touches, leaving goosebumps over Law’s sun-kissed skin in their wake.  He kissed you with the rhythm of your fingers tracing the tattoo on his chest, gentle, tender caresses that had his heart, and the fluttering in his stomach, on overdrive.  If he was more coherent, he would be worried about his heart giving out.  In that same instant he shoved the feeling out of his head.  There was no need to be rational anymore, not when you lay before him with your upper half completely exposed to the cold air of his bedroom.

Law didn’t even realize that he was in the process of removing your shorts until you lifted your hips and allowed him to pull them down to your knees, and then fully off of your legs.  You gently pushed on his pecs to make him lean back and allow you to sit up, hands undoing the metal clasp of his belt and pulling it through the loops of his jeans.  It clattered to the floor, but you paid no mind as you were eagerly undoing his button and zipper.

Suddenly, your hands stopped yet again.  You nervously gazed up at him.

He gazed back down at you.

You shook your head, as if trying to rid yourself of anxious thoughts that floated around you like angry insects.  “Sorry, I’m still kind of nervous,” you muttered.

“It’s okay, I am too.”  Law’s hands ran down your arms before floating to your waist, squeezing your now-bare flesh once again.  “You’re perfect.  I love you.”

“Even if I haven’t shaved my legs in a week?” you asked.  Your tone was light, but Law could still pick up on the notes of insecurity that echoed through the air around you.

“You think I care about that?” he asked, voice tender.  He planted a chaste kiss to your lips once more, before pulling his body downward, leaving sugar-sweet kisses across your neck, breasts, stomach, and the waistband of your panties.  His hands caressed your thighs as he sat up once more, trying to ignore the red-hot pressure in his groin, not helped by his open button and fly.  “You’re so fucking beautiful.  Look me in the eye and tell me that you think I care about your body hair.  No one could’ve guessed that we’d be doing this right now, it’s not like you could’ve anticipated it.”  He squeezed the plump flesh on your thighs playfully to punctuate his words.

You laughed once again, your voice sweeter than the freshest honey, carrying colors Law had never seen before.  “You’re right, I know…”  You averted your eyes, smiling so brightly that your lower lids were creasing.  “Thank you, Law…”

A short-lived silence floated between your two bodies, before you pushed yourself up by your elbows yet again and continued with your initial quest of undoing his tight jeans and getting them off his body as quickly as humanly possible.  He eagerly helped you, shimmying back and forth while you pulled his pants down before they were finally off and thrown to the side on the floor.  Your angle, leaning back on your elbows and gazing at Law’s form above you, was more heavenly than the finest artwork.  You could tell the man started to grow anxious as your eyes unpacked his body from head to toe, but how couldn’t you?  

“You’re beautiful too, Law, so fucking gorgeous.”  You used one hand to pull his shoulder down, planting light kisses on the corners of his mouth.  “The most handsome man I have ever seen in my life.”

“Oh please,” he huffed, kissing you back where he could.  One of his hands supported him on the mattress, while the other supported him by your waist.

“I mean it, you’re ethereal,” you moaned.  As much as you wanted to make him sit and listen to you ramble about how much you adored his defined muscles and lean physique, you didn’t want to make him more uncomfortable than you knew he was already dealing with.  You had come this far, you didn’t want to ruin it.

More intense, sloppy kisses ensued, hands trailing up and down bodies, before Law accidentally lowered himself on you.  He jolted at the feeling of his erection brushing against your pelvic area, suddenly reminding him of what exactly the goal here was.  He pulled away from you, holding eye contact.

“Are you really sure you want this?” he asked, voice low and cautious, as if he was trying not to startle an animal.

“More than anything, Law.  Do you?”

He paused for longer than he cared to admit, his mind running wild.  He loved you so intensely, so deeply, that he wished he could become one with you on an atomic level.  He wanted to spend every moment with you for the rest of his life, regardless of how long it was.  He wanted to accompany you through all of your achievements and dreams, just like he hoped you would do for him.  He wanted a permanent home in your brain, in your heart, in your soul, where you wouldn’t let him leave, where you would hold him so tightly in your warm embrace for the rest of time.

He snapped out of his zone when your hand caressed his scruffy cheek.  “Law?”

“Yes,” he responded quickly.  “Yes, god, yes, I want this.  I want you.”

Another kiss followed, before breaking apart once more.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you started.  “How exactly do we begin?”

Despite your wishes, Law couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled from his lungs.  “Shit, we’re hopeless.”  You laughed along with him, making more anxiety dissipate from his chest like a steam rising from a lagoon on a warm summer morning..

It wasn’t like either of you were strangers to how human sex worked, just like how neither of you were strangers to the orgasm, it was more so the act of actually beginning it, and doing it together.  It wasn’t as simple as slipping it in, thrusting a few times, and cumming.  There was much, much more to it.  You two just needed to figure out how to get there.

You shivered under the sensation of Law’s fingertips teasing the waistband of your panties before pulling them down slightly, waiting for your indication that you were ready to be completely and totally bare in front of him.  He bit down his elation as you lifted your hips, allowing the thin fabric to lower from your ass and down your thighs as Law removed them from your body, so gentle with the fabric, treating it as if it was sacred.  The notion left you feeling scorched, heart beating with untapped urgency.  The feeling of the cold air of the bedroom hitting your wet folds left you rubbing your thighs together, lip quivering.  You reached a hand forward yourself, tugging at Law’s own waistband and gazing at him through your eyelids, a silent plea to reveal himself to you as well.

After a deep, shuddering breath, the man slipped his boxers down his legs, throwing them onto the pile of your discarded clothing.  When he looked back at you, he was taken aback by the sight of your wide eyes, pupils dilated as you examined his cock.  He couldn’t help but smirk.  He didn’t think he was anything to write home about, seeing himself as average all around, but he just barely caught the way you sucked your lower lip in with your teeth, and it filled him with a sense of excitement, pride, and longing that he thought he’d never experience, let alone enjoy.

“Hey, eyes up here, darling,” he urged with a lighthearted chuckle.  

Flustered, your eyes darted up to his face, and you grinned sheepishly.  “Sorry.”

He pressed a small kiss to the apex of your nose.  “Don’t worry about it.”

Unlike your previous pauses, each kiss and caress from Law and the way his sultry words kept you anticipating made the mood stay relatively consistent throughout.  You felt confident, cherished, and adored by the man above you, and you just hoped he knew how much you wanted to worship him for the rest of your days.

Running a tattooed hand along your outer thigh before gracing over the junction of your hip and dipping his fingers in between your plush limbs easing them open for him, he eyed your expression and stated, “Tell me where you like to be touched.”

You held yourself up on one elbow, splitting your legs more for Law to get comfortable in between them as you allowed your free hand to roam to your pussy, using two fingers to part your lips.  Law watched analytically as your pointer and middle fingers rubbed the hood of your clit at the very top, and he listened intently to the way your breath hitched ever so slightly at the cotton-soft pleasure that emanated from your own fingertips.

“Right here,” you breathed.

Law’s own fingers were quick to replace your own.  He caressed the tiny spot, analyzing every twitch of your muscles or change in your breathing pattern.  His fingers dipped lower, watching your expression for any sign of discomfort as he ran his fingers along your opening, stifling a grin at how wet you had gotten from long minutes of intense making out and awkward repeated confirmations of consent.  He wouldn’t have it any other way.

The way your natural lubrication coated his fingers was alluring, and he used the fluid to rub and press against your clit once more, reveling in the way you bit down moans each time he changed up his pattern of movement.  He watched, intoxicated on the moment, as your hands grabbed at your own breasts, head tilted back and eyes squeezed shut.  While continuing his motions on your clit, he leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss right above your left breast.  When your hand moved, he gently bit down on your soft skin, basking in the whine that left your tense throat.  He licked the faint red mark his teeth left behind, knowing it wouldn’t even bruise.  Maybe some other day he could really sink his teeth into you, but for now he wanted to hold back and enjoy your first time.

Your breathing was growing more labored as his fingers danced expertly over your soaked clit, when you shot your hand forward and gripped his wrist in a silent plea to stop.

“Are you alright?” he asked, eyebrows immediately wrinkling in concern.

“I’m fine, I just…” your trembling hand rubbed his forearm.  “I want you inside me.  Like… right now.  Please.”

Law hummed.  He pulled his hand away from your cunt, leaving your now saturated folds exposed to a new level of chill.  You watched through half-lidded eyes as your boyfriend grabbed his one pillow from beside the metal bed frame.  He gently tapped your hip, wordlessly encouraging you to lift yourself enough for him to slide the pillow under you.

“This will support your back, hopefully,” he mentioned quietly.  “And hopefully reduce some initial discomfort.”

You smirked.  “Did you do some research?”

Law scoffed, flustered, averting his intense golden eyes.  “No, I just… assumed.”

You laughed, shimmying against the pillow and getting yourself comfortable.  “Trafalgar Law, if you don’t stop acting so cute we’re not going to get anywhere.”

The man’s grip on your hips tightened slightly, and he couldn’t fight the grin that spread across his lips at your statement.  “You really okay with this?”

You nodded affirmatively.  “Yes.”

Law inhaled a deep breath, reaching down to take a gentle hold of his own cock that, remarkably, stayed completely hard and eager this entire time.  (He was relieved there was nothing wrong with him.)  He gave himself a few strokes with his fist, forcing down a groan at the sensation as you watched him with ravenous eyes that devoured his every movement.  You shivered as his fingers ran up and down your cunt yet again, before rubbing your slick on his cock with a tiny, breathy moan.  Lord, you needed him badly.

The raven-haired man adjusted his position between your legs and tested the waters by running the head of his dick through your wet folds.  The feeling was already something you were addicted to.

“I’m going to ask one last time,” he said, voice low and apprehensive.  “Are you okay with this?”

For the final time, your eyes fluttered open, caressing a hand over his cheek.  “Yes.”  Finally.

Law used two fingers to pull apart your folds, exposing the entrance to your vagina that seemed to wait so patiently just for him.  He pressed the head of his cock into you, inhaling a shaky breath at the way your anatomy seemed to suck him in.  He stopped when he heard you groan slightly under him.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, it just hurts a little bit.”

He pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, then to the corner of your mouth.  “That’s normal, you’ve never done this before.”

You nodded, finding endless comfort in his words and touches.

Little by little, Law eased himself into you, having you adjust your hips every now and then to get used to not only the feeling of having something inside of you so tightly, but also to find the most comfortable position for you.  You did find great relief in the way the pillow below your hips allowed subtle leverage, making his entrance much easier on the both of you.  Law twirled his fingers with your own, capturing your lips in an addictive, sultry kiss as he pushed the rest of his way into you.  He groaned into your mouth, the feeling of his cock leaving your walls molding around him a sensation so foreign yet so delicious.  Similarly, your legs quivered at the red hot feeling of Law’s cock fully enveloped within your warmth, each way you moved reminding you that he was in you, connected to you in the deepest, most intimate way possible.  The feeling of being stretched and intruded upon slowly went away, helped in part by Law’s constant kisses and caresses across your body, keeping you both plenty aroused and waiting.

You wiggled your hips against his delighting in the groan that left his clenched jaw.  

“That feels too good,” he sighed into your neck.

“You can move,” you urged, finally getting used to the fulfilling sensation.

Law’s hand squeezed your’s, and you squeezed back.  Supporting himself with his other hand on your hip, he rocked his hips slightly, testing the waters of your body’s reactions to each movement.  His entire body felt on fire.  He was sure that water would evaporate off of his skin at the slightest contact.  He clenched his jaw, uttering a wavering groan at the warm wetness that surrounded his cock with each movement, the sounds emanating from your joined bodies equal parts alluring and humbling.

He quickly found a rhythm that seemed to work for the two of you, angling his hips upward as best he could to attempt to focus his thrusts on the spot at the roof of your vagina right below your pelvic bone.  (Okay, maybe he had done more than a little research.)  Your eyes were clenched shut, mouth slightly open as you exhaled shallowly.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“Good… great,” you uttered back, breathless.  “You feel really good… you feel amazing, Law.”

Law’s heart once again skipped a few beats at the praise.  To know he was bringing you pleasure, making sure you were getting as much out of this as he was, was exactly what he needed to hear.

He disconnected your hands, leaving both of your palms face up and empty next to your head.  His free hand now traveled back down in between your legs, rubbing three fingers against your neglected clit.  The sensation was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, back arching off the bed.  It was a pressure deep within your abdomen that flared like a hot coal, partnered with zaps and zings of electric shocks as sweet as sugar, the two sensitive areas of your anatomy fusing together with Law’s touch and movements to form a combination that had you moaning without restraint.  You couldn’t help yourself.

“Oh fuck, Law, shit,” you groaned, neck craning back.  

Law took advantage of your exposed skin by peppering sweet kisses along your jugular and Adam’s apple, before sitting his lips in the soft flesh right above your collarbone and biting down with more force than before.  You whined at the feeling, shivering as his tongue once again licked the deeper marks, leaving your skin wet and cold, and at the same time blazing hot.  The groans he was releasing so close to your ear only spurred your passion more, your own hands traveling to his shoulders and holding him close, fingers gripping his skin as best you could as his thrusts deepened in tandem with the pace of his fingers on your clit.

Law’s entire lower body felt on fire, electric, a magenta pressure building deep within his abdomen and radiating outward.  He felt his dick twitch inside you and he bit down a moan, instead relishing in the way you let go one of your own at the feeling of his dick rubbing against your G-spot with every other snap of his hips.  You lifted your knees up, feeling him even deeper than before, and you gasped his name.

“Shit, Law,” your legs quivered next to his body.  “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Your body involuntarily met him thrust for thrust, the pressure from your movements added to Law’s ministrations over your clit leaving you panting and writhing beneath him.  You were a sight to behold for Law’s sore eyes.  He could drink you for the rest of eternity and never grow tired of your taste.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the pace of his hips increasing as he felt the familiar, yet foreign, sensation of his impending orgasm.  This was nothing like using his hand, it was so much better, worlds better.  He didn’t think he’d ever be able to masterbate on his own again, knowing nothing could surpass the way your pussy clenched around his dick like you were sculpted for each other and only each other.

“Ah… ah, fuck, Law,” you moaned, voice cracking as your back arched. The white hot pleasure from your pussy reverberated throughout your entire body, leaving your skin both icy and on fire as colors flashed behind your eyelids.  Your fingers gripped Law’s shoulders harder, surely leaving marks in his skin.

Your orgasm caught you completely off guard, body snapping as waves of pink and purple flashed behind your closed eyelids as your pelvis shook and trembled against Law’s wavering thrusts.  Your moans were unrestrained now, freely calling into the stifling air around your bodies, embracing each millisecond of the addictive, powerful sensation that danced across your waist, your womb, your legs.  Your orgasm was the final push Law needed before he frantically pulled out of your sopping pussy and released onto your lower stomach, his hips gyrating as he fisted his cock with shuddering breaths and deep groans.  His abs flexed continuously as his muscles contracted from the sheer force of his own release.

The two of you remained in the same positions you finished in for what felt like hours, desperately catching your breath.  Your legs continued to shake as you relaxed your muscles and let your weary limbs finally fall back onto the mattress.  You opened your eyes, taking in the ethereal view of Law’s trembling body over your own, his head tilted back, black hair tousled out of place.  His fist remained around his cock, unmoving, still too shocked to move.  Your own shaky hand reached for him, ghosting your fingers along his abdominal muscles and breaking him out of his orgasmic trance to look at you with glazed, golden eyes.

His expression, fucked out and boundlessly flustered, made you laugh.  You started laughing uncontrollably, shoulders shaking as you tried to restrain yourself, choosing instead to pull him down with you, burying your gleeful smile and airy laughs into his neck instead.  Law cringed slightly at the feeling of his own release rubbing between your two stomachs, but the way you embraced him in your exposed glory, completely vulnerable to him, made him instantly forget about the temporary discomfort.  He used his less dirty hand to cup your cheek, tilting your head to press a smattering of kisses along your face before resting on your smiling lips, loving the feeling of joyful laughs still leaving your spent body.

“I’m sorry I’m laughing again,” you said quietly.  “That was incredible.”

Law couldn’t blame you for your reaction in the slightest.  After weeks of pent up anxiety, miscommunication and worry, the two of you had finally experienced what you had been longing for so deeply, so carnally.  Law wanted to make sure you could feel the same joy, the same euphoria, each time you were with him in every moment you spent together.  Your laugh was freeing.  Your unrestrained giggles the reminder that he so desperately needed.

There was nothing wrong with him.  There was nothing wrong with you.

The moment comes naturally.  And Law promised himself right then and there, as you clutched onto his body above you like you would disappear without him, that he would do anything to keep that smile on your face, the anxiety out of your mind, and his heart in your hands.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

BONUS

You would describe Law like a scallop.  A hard outer shell that refuses to open up, bumbling blindly through the water away from anything he deems as a threat.  His grace and elegance as a pirate captain came with countless years of adjusting to normal human interaction, which left him in an odd stance between an awkward, struggling kid, and a maladaptive, anxious adult.  But when the ridged shell was finally cracked open, exposing the soft, fragile insides, was when the facets of his personality would radiate forth.  He was dynamic, emotional, impulsive, selfish, fearful, confident, boundlessly strong and yet weaker than a detached leaf all at the same time.

And you loved that about him.  Your love for the stone-cold pirate captain ran deeper than the trenches of the ocean you sailed above, was warmer than the sun that beat down on the outer deck when you surfaced, and was more tender than the finest cuisine.

Your new favorite thing about Law, to add to the ever growing list that you kept within the recesses of your mind, was the fact that he was still just as apprehensive around you as he had been when you first started dating.  A few nights ago, he came all over your stomach as you lay beneath him a shivering, trembling mess, but when you gently knocked on his office door to wish him a good morning, he looked at you with eyes as wide as saucers, mouth curled in a nervous, boyish grin, kissing you like it was his first ever.  Like a scallop, he would open and close sporadically, spoiling you with his delectable emotions behind the safety of closed doors, and impressing you with his harsh command of his crew on the outside.

He laughed at you when you told him your analogy.

“A scallop?  I’m a scallop to you?” he asked, chuckling as he scribbled down notes in a wrinkled, coffee-stained notebook.  His entire back and neck were hunched over the metal counter in his medical ward, taking inventory of the medicines he kept stocked behind the locked cabinets.

You were bustling around the room behind him, diligently cleaning dust, sand, and salt residue out of sterile corners and shelves.  “Yes!  You’re hard on the outside and soft on the inside, what’s not to get?”

“Scallops move like bumbling idiots.  I would appreciate something more like a crab.  Or maybe even a lobster.”  When you turned your head to face him, he was already gazing at you, his left hand making a pincer motion similar to a crab’s claw.  

You snorted.  “Just for that, you’re going to be a slug now.  No more shells for you.”

“You’re just gonna leave me out in the open like that?  Not even a skeleton?”

“Fine, you can be a squid.”  You wrung your damp washcloth into the metal bucket situated on the floor by your feet, draping it over the side to free your hands and wipe them dry on your boiler suit.

The laugh that bubbled out of Law made your heart flutter in your chest.  You never would have guessed that your casual, stupid banter while doing mindless chores would be something you’d enjoy so much, but you had come to realize that you enjoyed every aspect of life a whole lot more when it was spent with Law.  In the days that followed your successful first shared sexual encounter, especially.  Since then, you have started to feel so much more confident in yourself, in your looks, your abilities, and your feelings.  You felt like you understood your boyfriend on an even deeper level now, cherishing the way he seemed to unfold himself in front of you, knowing that there was almost nothing left to hide from you anymore.  You had seen each other at your most vulnerable, and the outcome was more beautiful than the most glorious sunset.

Law’s voice snapped you back to reality.  “I think you’d be a Mola Mola.”

You threw your wrung-out towel across the room, giggling as it smacked his hunched back in between his shoulder blades.  It made a squelching sound as it plopped to the floor behind him.  He whipped around to face you, a mischievous grin on his face.

“Is the sunfish mad at me?”

“To think you view me so low!  I’m heartbroken!”  You feigned great offense, placing the back of your hand over your forehead and swaying back and forth.  “My life is ruined now, my beloved thinks I’m a sunfish!”

Law bent down to grab the towel you had thrown at him before balling it in his fist and lobbing it back at you, smirking as it landed on your chest and stayed there.  Before you had the chance to chuck it back at him, the door to the medical bay creaked as it was pulled open.  You felt your heart pang as Law’s expression immediately switched from bright and gleeful to his usual stoic, grouchy demeanor.  He still hid from even his crew, only showing his true colors very, very sparingly.  You both looked towards the door as Uni popped his head in.  

“Sorry to interrupt, just wanted to let you know dinner’s ready.  Jean Bart cooked tonight.”  The masked man quickly stepped back out into the hallway, letting the heavy steel door close on its own.

Your eyes glanced back toward Law as his expression softened only slightly.  You bent down to place the washcloth over the rim of your cleaning bucket before finally walking over to your boyfriend and nudging his arm.

“Sorry,” you simply murmured.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Your face changed so quickly, like you didn’t want him to see you smiling.”

Law hummed, a sound that stayed low in his throat.  He turned back toward the counter, picking up his pen once more and writing a few extra bullets in his notebook.  You stood patiently, lips sealed as you waited for his next movement or word.

“Don’t ever apologize for making me smile,” he said, tone deep and volume minimal.

Your stomach did backflips in your abdomen.

Law’s pen made a clicking sound as he placed it on the counter, lifting his notebook to shut the cover and store it in a specific labeled drawer.  He finally turned back to gaze at you, face slowly softening more and more.  He approached you, running an inked hand across your cheek and down to your neck before placing a sweet kiss on the corner of your lips.

“I still don’t know how to share with my crew what I share with you.”

You knew what he meant.  His emotions, his insecurities, all the vulnerabilities that he revealed to you behind closed doors in the form of nervous kisses and wavering whispers were sides of himself that he would never be caught showing his crew.  He needed to keep the facade of the strong captain they needed him to be, unmoving when the waves violently rocked his ship and unwavering when his skin would be sliced by an enemy’s sword.  Law’s biggest issue remained that he couldn’t even say the word ‘emotion’ without feeling like less of a man.  You just hoped that, one day, he’d be able to say it.

You smiled.  “I know, it’s hard for you.  But that’s alright.”

Law would wonder until his final breath how he was lucky enough to find himself with a person as understanding and sympathetic as you were.  It wasn’t fair to you that he kept himself closed off until he was forced to open, how you poured your heart out to him at every waking moment while he struggled to share his feelings with you.  You told him ‘I love you’ many times even before your first time sleeping together, and he was yet to say it back.  The words felt like molten iron on his tongue.

But you stayed by his side regardless.  Your love never wavered.  You didn’t care how long it would take him to say those three words to you as long as you were able to keep him with you, as long as you were able to kiss him and thread his fingers through yours and feel his body pressed against yours under the warm sheets in his bed.  You didn’t care as long as he was there.

Law sucked in a deep inhale through his nostrils as his golden eyes examined your expression.  You simply gazed back at him, waiting for any response.

“You’re wonderful,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.”  You grabbed his hand in yours pulling him towards the door.  “Let’s go get food before your crew devours it all!”

He followed you with no protest, gripping your hand in his.  When he squeezed, you squeezed back.  Before you rounded the final corner to enter the galley, Law pressed a kiss to your cheek.

[cottoncandyswisherz]

working at the pyramid

this is long a fuck for no reason so its small font lol

softdom!chris x stripper!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected sex (double wrap w aluminum foil) p in v, oral, (male receiving) pole dancing

-

the club is dark. all lights are off and the only thing you can hear is jay, our dj, yelling into the mic. 

"okay fellas, its saturday, you know what that means. its time for our favorite girl to do her thangs. make some noise for our money maker, our heart breaker, MISS CLEOOOO!" 

and the crowd goes wild.

the music starts and i strut onto the stage, in character. 

the projector displays a burning sun behind me, the lights shines a dark orange. this is my time to shine. all these men are here watching me with hungry eyes and i'm about to feed them. 

laying with my back on the ground i wait for my cue. 

wake up to your girl for now lets call her cleopatra i watch you fix your hair then put your panties on in the mirror, cleopatra

i arch my back and pull at my hair. then your lipstick, cleopatra then your six-inch heels, catch her she's headed to the pyramid

i roll over onto my stomach and stretch my arms in front of me, kicking my feet slowly, making eye contact with some shmuck in to crowd before turning back on my back.

she's working at the pyramid tonight

the beat drops and it begins. 

grabbing the back of my heels i raise my hips in a kegel position and grind my hips slowly in the air.

then i raise my butt all the way in the air, holding myself up and bring my knees together and twirl them before straightening one and pointing my toes over my head. keeping my legs in that position i slowly bring them down

pimpin in my convos bubbles in my champagne let it be some jazz playin top floor hotel suite twisting my cigars floor model tv with the vcr

back on my stomach i slowly bring myself on all fours and dramatically throw my head back, allowing my hair to fall down my arched back. 

got rubies in my damn chain whip aint got no gas tank but it still got woodgrain

i get on my feet and bounce before standing all the way up

got your girl working for me hit the strip and my bills paid that keep my bills paid hit the strip and my bills paid keep a nigga bills paid

prancing to the pole, i lock eyes with a white boy. like everyone else, he's got a shit eating grin on his face. but unlike everyone else, he doesn't throw 1's on the stage. he throws a flurry of 20's. 

i grab the pole and saunter around it twice, then press my back against it and grind again. 

time to climb this bitch. 

she's working and the pyramid tonight

i turn around and step around the pole before swinging and wrapping my legs around it tilt my head back and now i'm spinning, as the pole rotates. i do my tricks and shit, giving them the show they want.

keeping my grip, the pole stops and throw my head all the way back, allowing myself to be upside down. only for a second though because i place my hands on the floor and flip into a split as the beat drops again. 

the men go insane, and i'm showered in bills. 

you showed up after work, i'm bathin your body touch you in places only i know you're wet and you're warm just like our bathwater can we make love before you go

i grind to the beat in various positions, before bringing myself back to pole, placing it between my heel and shoe so i can limp all the way to the top. 

once i'm there i hook one leg around the pole and drop my head. upside down once again. i spread my arms out and spin. 

shouting and money flying once again. 

the way you say my name makes me feel like i'm that nigga but i'm still unemployed you say it's big but you take it ride cowgirl

after a few seconds, i bring my body back up right and slide down. with my legs under me, i move my hips, so it looks like i'm riding

but your love ain't free no more baby but your love ain't free no more

then i fall back so i'm laying on my back, like before i started. 

she's working at the pyramid she's working at the pyramid tonight

and the lights shut off. 

just like that, i move off the stage and go to my dresser and drink some water. 

5 minutes go by and i've caught my breath. thomas, another employee comes in with my earnings from tonight. but i don't have time to count it, so i put the bag in my locker and go out to work the floor. 

a few of my regulars make their usual requests and soon i'm $150 richer. i walk over to the bar and ask for a lemonade and while i'm waiting a hand taps my shoulder. 

"i'm on break. " i mutter in an agitated tone, not bothering to turn around. 

"i'll pay double." 

and just like that, I GOT MOTION!

i turn around and see the white boy from earlier. 

with a seductive grin, i shake my head. "go find a seat on the floor and i'll come find you after my drink."

"the floor?" white boy turns around and looks at the room, full of idiots. "no, i want a private room." 

"those are 150 an hour..."

"where do i pay?"

is he for real...

"usually people who want them have a group."

"just me."

wow.

"you pay up front." he pulled his phone out.

"you guys take apple pay?"

i was flabbergasted. "uh... yeah i think so."

"great. you finish your drink and i'll come get you when everything is paid for."

-

20 minutes later i'm stepping into a private room. 

"you can play whatever music you want. i can dance to pretty much anything."

this is so fucking awkward by myself. usually there like 5 of us in here with an equal amount of guys. 

but he won't see me sweat. 

"anything?"

"yup."

he pulls his phone out, connecting to the bluetooth. 

"okay you better be telling the truth." he begins searching for a song. 

he plays the fucking macarena. 

"be so fucking for real." i fight back a smile. "i'm half naked and you want me to do the macarena?"

"hey you said you can dance to anything." he chuckles, putting his hands up. he has a small duffel bag next to him. i can just smell the money in it. 

fuck it. i think then begin the dance. 

money falls at my feet as i do the routine and laugh. 

soon the song is over and a new one starts. 

this one slower.

i start with a little floor routine that ends with me on my knees, so i can crawl over to him.

placing  my hands on his thighs, i lift myself up and turn around so my ass is right in his face and i dance, dropping and coming back up. 

i felt his hands grip my waist, and usually, clients aren't allowed to touch us, but this ones fine as a motherfucker so i'll allow it. 

he pulls me down so i'm sitting in his lap, my back to his chest. i move my hips on him and he turns my head to the side so i'm kinda looking at him. then his hand grabs my neck and his other one drops 20's. 

the bills fall down my body and land in my lap and it's the hottest thing i've ever encountered. 

with a smile, i turn around so i'm straddling him and grind some more. i feel his erection on my clit through his shorts and it makes my pussy flood. 

if i keep looking in his eyes i'm gonna cum. so i look at the wall to distract myself. but that doesn't work because he grips my jaw and forces me to look at him. 

"eyes on me mama."

fuck. 

now we're locked in. eyes trapped in each other. i can't escape. 

but i have to. 

so place his hands on my hips and lean back, so my back is arched. 

i thought this would help. 

it didn't. 

one of his hands spreads on my belly and reaches up my front, his large hand on my chest. 

i come back up and decide no physical contact was the solution. 

so i get up and begin another floor routine.

he stands up and walks over to me, looking in my eyes a-fucking-gain so i turn around and dance until his hand is on my hips again with his other one the back of my neck, bending me over. 

and now we're lowkey dry humping. 

shit. 

standing up right again, i turn around and take a step back. 

i can't fuck him. i'll lose my job. i'll lose my dignity. 

"we can't-"

the motion is swift when he tugs me towards him and my body collides with his. my hands automatically come up and land against his chest, and my eyes fall shut. 

my fingers spread out, trying to feel as much of him as i can. 

his lips brush against my ear. "tell me to stop, cleo. tell me to stop, and i will."

i pull my head back enough to look at him and think. 

i have two options. 

1. walk out and do my job like nothing happened with the worst case of blue ovaries i've ever had. 

or 

2. fuck this man and walk out and do my job like nothing happened having had what i hope will be the best orgasm i've ever had.

i don't know about you but option two seems like the obvious choice. 

"i don't want you to stop." 

his fingers grip me tighter.

"you want me to fuck you?" 

my breath hitches and i slowly nod my head. 

"my name's chris. say 'yes, chris.'"

my thighs clench as i feel my pussy flood again. "yes, chris."

a sound leaves his mouth, then its pressing against mine.

i melt into the kiss. his full lips slanting over mine, demanding them to open. 

i try to focus. i try to remember who i am and that i'm a badass who refuses to submit to a stranger. i try to focus, but there's a lightening storm going off inside my body and i can't hold onto a single bolt. 

my arms wrap around the back of his neck, anchoring him to me. 

chris' large hands move up my side, the heat of them seeping through my skin and putting my body on fire. keeping the tips of his fingers against my ribs, he spreads his grip out until his thumbs trace along the underside of my tits. 

i lean into the touch. the press of his body against mine is divine torture. but then he's gone. 

his hands leave my sides at the same time his mouth leave mine. 

my eyes blink open, but instead of finding his gaze on mine, i find his hooded eyes focused on my chest. 

with slow movements, chris reaches behind me and unclips the bra i'm wearing. it falls at my feet. 

chris tongue slides across his lower lips as he eyes my pierced nipples. he uses his thumbs to rub over each one, the buds tightening and i can no longer stay quiet. 

letting out a whimper of appreciation, i raise my arms and grip his white tee. 

"fuck." he groans the words as he palms my breasts, leaving my nipples exposed between his thumb and index finger. "fuck." he says again, dipping down and taking one small barbell into his mouth. 

"oh god.." i groan, my fingers leave his sides and dig into his hair.

this isn't the first time someone has played with the piercings but with him, its so much better.

he tugs and pulls at my other nipple and i'm so needy, i'm ready burst.

"chris." i pant. "please, chris."

letting my breast pop free, chris stands back to his full height. 

my hands reach for the string of his sweat shorts, undoing the knot and tugging them down. 

dark, tight briefs are all that stand between his cock and my hands and i tug those down too until his erection bobs free. 

of course it's perfect in every fucking way. 

my fingers wrap around his length, gliding up and down. chris' hand closes over mine and squeezes, forcing me to grip him tighter. 

freak ass. 

"take off your panties." he squeezes my hand once more before releasing his grip.

letting go of him, i shimmy out of my thong.

chris strokes himself while saying, "gimme a spin."

i smirk and slowly twirl around, making a show of it, moving my hips to the music that's still playing. 

"you're fucking perfect." then he's stepping to me, lifting me, and walking me to the bar in the corner of the room. the surface has bottles and glasses on it, so i'm half on the bar and afraid of sliding off in a heap of embarrassment. 

but then chris is using his hands to spread my thighs and when he steps between them, all thoughts other than him leave my body.

my hands grab ahold of the bottom of his shirt and pull until he chest is naked in front of me. 

at this point i'm beyond wet. i should be embarrassed considering the fact that he hasn't even touched my pussy yet, but the look on his face is pure hunger. 

he taps my thigh and lets out a command. "wider."

i press my thighs open further.

chris runs the tip of his dick up the length of my pussy. "please tell me you're on the pill."

red flags wave in my peripheral. i should stop this. i don't know him. there are worries beyond pregnancy. this man is a fucking stranger.

but instead of being smart, i nod. 

chris growls gripping the base of his cock lining it up with my more than ready entrance. the hand not on his dick runs up  my side, squeezing my breast, pinching my nipple then gripping the base of my neck. 

he presses his lips against mine while pressing into me. 

his tongue shoves into my mouth and i'm filled with him. 

all i can feel his him. 

all i can taste, all i can hear, all i can smell is chris. 

i was bracing for a quick thrust. but this... this is slow.

i arch. i writhe. i moan. 

with both hands on my ass now, chris pulls me forward, so i feel all of him. he picks up his speed. pulling out, slamming in. over and over. 

his hands are everywhere now, tugging on my piercings, gripping my ass, feeling all the skin he can. 

"chris!" i cry out, feeling my orgasm approaching. 

"that's it." he moans into my mouth.

and thumb presses on my clit and i jolt in surprise. 

"oh fuck-" my head falls back.

he circles my clit, faster and faster, pressing harder and harder. 

"eyes on me mama." he demands. my eyes flutter open and find his. "good girl." his fingers don't stop.

"i'm gonna cum."

"that's right ma. cum for me."

that was the last piece of the puzzle. 

i shatter around him, shaking and convulsing.

"yes, chris. fuck! thank you. oh my god thank you-"

i'm a mess. from one fucking orgasm. 

removing his hand from my clit, chris steps back and pulls out of me, my body arching towards his, trying to keep the contact. 

he lifts me off the bar and sets me down in front of him. my legs are like jelly so i'm relieved when i hear him say "on your knees, cleo."

that fucking name. he's just took me to mars so i guess he can know my government. "my names y/n."

a smile spreads across his face as he presses a kiss to my lips and slides his had to my jaw. "on your knees, y/n."

i comply, dropping down in front of him. he drags his thumb across my lips. "open up." my mouth opens wide and allowing him to guide his cock between my lips. 

i close my mouth around him, sucking his length and it's like all his self control flies away. 

he gathers my hair into a ponytail and presses in deeper. 

"i wanna fill you up." 

please.

he pulls back and thrusts deeper into me until i feel him in the back of my throat. 

"i wanna watch my cum dripping out of that pretty pussy." 

fuck.

"i wanna cum all over your piercings."

jesus fucking christ.

"but you gotta go back to work."

WHAT?

he pulls all the way out, letting me breathe.

"let me back in." he says 

i open my mouth and hes back, deep in my throat. "that's my good fucking girl." he groans out and throws his head back. 

i let out a moan at the praise and his whole body shakes. 

"fuuuuuuuck.." his grip on my hair tightens and he looks down at me. 

he picks up the speed of his thrusts and fucks my face with so much force i have to lean back and put my weight on my hands to stable myself. 

i feel him twitch in my mouth and he goes to pull back but i wrap my hand around the back of his thigh and move my lips to his tip, sucking. his eyes cross and his load shoots into my mouth.

chris pulls me up by the ponytail and brings my lips to his in a kiss. this one was softer, but just as passionate. 

pulling aways he says "you know i have to see you again right?" 

"i'd like that." i whisper. 

"good girl."

niyah speaks 2930 words dawg. sorry i've been MIA. me and my boyfriend broke up lol. but uhhh im backkkkk

taglist: @mattslolita @mattssluttygf @muwapsturniolo @chaossturns

[his-saiko]

Wind Breaker Boys when they accidentally hit you

Nirei Akihiko

No, he didn't hit you. He thought he did. You just said "ow" and his world crumbled. Knees, hands, forehead on the floor apologizing profusely.

When really—

"Ow... My eye." You try to blink out the pain. Tears start to pool in one of your eyes as they attempt to get rid of whatever's in there.

"Oh, a-are you okay? Let me get that for you." He carefully cups your face and blows on your eye. He also manage to get the stray lash out. "There. I really thought I hurt you there." He chuckles. "I should... probably be careful next time."

You stare at him confused. Why should he be careful?

Suo Hayato

"Oh—" You both say in unison when Suo's hand bumps against your cheek.

"Are you okay?" Suo's eyes are wide. He patiently waits for your response.

"I'm fine. But why are you asking as if you hit me that hard?" You rub your cheek but you can feel the heat on your face.

"Because I didn't mean to touch you like that."

"Huh?"

"I actually meant to do this." Suo reaches for your cheek again. You feel the warmth of his palm brush against you. His fingers reach the strands of your hair and he pulls off a stray leaf that got caught. "See? It was stuck in your hair."

You kept walking trying to hide the fact that you're blushing but he knows it already. You little cutie.

Kiryu Mitsuki

You bumped into Kiryu while walking. You were looking at everything, everywhere all at once.

"Oh, sorry." Kiryu pulls your hand and moves it to hold your waist instead. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Huh? But we're just going straight, right?"

"Huh? Yeah, but I was looking at you actually. Then I accidentally put my foot in front of yours."

You narrow your eyes at Kiryu and try your best not to smile but Kiryu gives you that smile that charmed you countless times, causing you to fail and blush.

Sakura Haruka

It was the first time Sakura didn't think about his presence around you. He had his guard down and why wouldn't he? He's supposed to relax with you and he was around his friends that he trusts.

"Ow..." You say. It didn't sting. The hit wasn't too heavy but the contact did surprise you. This is the first time that you guys are close to each other.

You look at Sakura and everyone else around you looks at you as well. You blink and Sakura just blinks back, frozen like a deer in headlights.

Aren't cool boyfriends suppose to comfort you when you're hurt? Why isn't he moving?

Your expression changes and you whimper — a moment too late maybe but it's a reaction nonetheless.

Nirei springs into action. "Y/N! It's just an accident. He didn't mean that."

Suo just chuckles to himself reading the room. Sakura was blushing profusely, embarrassed and not sure what to say.

"C'mon, Sakura. Say something!" Nirei tells Sakura.

"I'm sorry..." Sakura says with pursed lips.

"I think we can find something to treat Y/N's 'injury' somewhere around here." Suo prompts with a knowing smile on his face. "Is there a particular one you need, Y/N?"

"Just ice is fine." You answer. You can't help but feel a bit embarrassed. You only meant to tease Sakura but this is fine too. Better actually.

"I'll go get some." Nirei moves and comes back shortly after with an ice pack from one of the shop owners.

Sakura immediately grabs the ice pack then carefully places it on your 'injury'. He still has his lips pursed and cheeks pink. "I'm really sorry..." He mutters, looking disappointed at himself.

You put you hand over his and smile. "Thank you."

Sakura blushes even more and turns his head away. He should probably get used to being close to you moving forward.

a/n. I needed this out after reading half of the manga. 😅

[tropes-and-tales]

You Talk Too Much

(From the "Shut Up" kiss starter prompts, found here)

CW:  Richie being Richie, swearing.

Word Count:  1740

AN:  Requested by @winchestershiresauce

You don’t smoke, but it doesn’t stop you from escaping out the back door of The Beef near the end of shift to catch your breath and relax.  There’s only a few lingering customers out front, and  you are exhausted and frazzled.

It’s quiet out back.  You love your job—really, you do—but it can be a lot.  A lot.  It’s loud and hectic and a million things happen at once.  Sometimes the chaos of the day is just limited to the customers flowing through for classic Chicago fare.  Sometimes the chaos is more, well, chaotic:  a burst pipe, a failed health inspection, an impromptu Ball-Breaker tournament to help breakeven for the week.

You love your job.  You love The Beef, and you love your coworkers, but sometimes you need quiet.

The neighborhood mellows out at night, at least in the little nook behind the restaurant.  The noise of the city—the traffic, the sirens, the wind off the river and lake—falls away to a murmur, background noise that builds and then breaks over you in gentle waves.  You sit on an overturned milk crate and pull your knees up, wrap your arms around your knees.  You lean back against the brick wall and shut your eyes.  You breathe deep, steadying breaths and feel your heartbeat calm.  Hours and hours of chaos, and now you can throttle down a bit.

It lasts all of a minute.

You hear the door squeal open on its hinges, then hear it slam shut a moment later.  You don’t bother to open your eyes; you can guess who it is.

A beat later, someone settles onto another milk crate beside you with a grunt.  You hear the ritual sounds of a veteran smoker:  the shaking of a soft pack, the quiet snick of the lighter, the first harsh inhale, the pleased sigh as the nicotine hits the bloodstream.

Richie.  The Beef’s resident asshole.  The utter bane of your existence when you started months ago.  He had bullied you relentlessly, a hazing that extended beyond gentle workplace pranking.  Richie, you came to find out, hates change, and you came into his life in the midst of immense change.

The loss of his best friend who was more like a brother.

The loss of his family when his wife divorced him.

The loss of his restaurant, his beloved dysfunctional sandwich shop as Carmy slowly started to change the system.

But as the months passed, Richie softened towards you.  You proved too stubborn to give in to his bullying, and at some point, you became part of the landscape of The Beef.  You became part of the family, and Richie eased off the bullying. 

His teasing turned sweeter, almost:  he calls you sweetheart now, sometimes babe, and when he needs to get past you in the tight quarters of the restaurant, he lays a light hand on your shoulder or your back as he squeezes past you.

Then came the stories.  When it’s quiet, when the doors aren’t open yet and you’re just prepping for the day, Richie regales you with stories.  So many stories.  Stories about his time at West Lawrence Avenue.  Stories about tearing up the town with Mikey.  Stories about the Goddess of Agriculture and Bill Murray.  Richie always leans in close and tells you these stories, often repeating tales you’ve already heard, but just as you never confronted him about the bullying, you never confront him about his repetitious storytelling.

Richie, you guess, is a complicated man.  A man with a lot of feelings who perhaps doesn’t know how to express them.  From the caustic bully sneering at you about disrupting the “delicate ecosystem” of The Beef… to the smiling charmer as he regales you with his Bill Murray story.

You open your eyes enough to squint and confirm that it’s Richie sitting beside you, as if the scent of his cologne isn’t confirmation enough.  But it’s him.  Visual confirmation obtained.  You take in his lanky form neatly folded to fit on the milk crate, one leg kicked out straight and the other folded up near his chest.  His profile illuminated by the flickering light near the dumpsters. 

The man isn’t entirely unappealing.  Once you get past the crusty layers of asshole behavior, the sarcasm and inferiority complex and refusal to feel his feelings, he’s actually a good man.  Loyal to a fault.  Loving father.  The sort of man to assemble his own family of friends and misfits, who then defends that family to the death.

But too chatty sometimes.  Like now.

Because after the first deep drag of his cigarette, he starts talking.  “I ever tell you about the time me and Mikey were at Ceres?”

You bite the inside of your mouth to stop from smiling.  “Yeah, you did.”

“Place was packed with Blackhawk fans—”

“Because Denis Savard just got inducted into the hockey hall of fame,” you fill in for him.

“Chelios was there,” he continues, like he hasn’t even heard you.  “I mean, the place was fucking packed—”

On he goes.  On and on and on.  The quiet lull of the city noise falls away and all you can focus on is Richie’s voice, the cigarette husky quality of it, and you like his voice, you love his stories because he loves telling them, but you just want quiet right now.

“Richie—”

“And I feel this tap on my shoulder—”

“Rich—”

“And it’s Bill fucking Murray!  And he’s like—”

“Richie, c’mon—”

“He’s like, ‘what are you doing?’  And I tell him, I say—”

You don’t know why you snap.  The man literally made your life a living hell when you started at the restaurant, but you never once snapped.  Never fought back, only shrugged and let the insults roll of your back.  You don’t know why you snap now, and you don’t know quite why you snap the way you do.

Because you don’t yell at him or smack him.  Richie goes on and on with his story, his face lit up at the happy memory he shared with Mikey, and he’s gesturing with his hands, his half-burnt cigarette forgotten as he talks and glances at you to see if you’re listening, if you’re impressed with his story, and maybe that’s what makes you snap.  Maybe you have a sudden revelation, like a lightning bolt out of the sky.

Maybe Richie keeps telling you these stories because he wants to impress you.  Maybe his close-talking, his mild pet names for you, his light touches as he walks past you…maybe you understand it all in a split second.  Maybe it took a mild Chicago night, a quiet moment out back broken by this man who glances at you shyly to see how his story is landing.

So you snap.  You reach out one hand and gather a fistful of his navy blue t-shirt, and you haul him halfway to you.  You meet him the rest of the way, and the man is still talking when you kiss him.  It happens that fast.

Which makes the kiss awkward for a split second.  You’ve caught him unawares, mid-sentence, and your mouth stills his words.  He freezes for the split second it takes him to catch up to what’s happening, but then he kisses you back.  He tastes like cigarettes, and beneath that you can taste vanilla, and you smile because you can guess that he’d been sneaking into Marcus’s area and helping himself to the cakes Marcus had been working on all day.

But it’s quiet again.  You’ve stoppered Richie’s words, and the earlier calm would fall over you if your heart wasn’t hammering in your chest at what you’ve done.

It’s Richie who breaks the kiss.  After a long beat of silence, a long moment of your mouth on his, the shyest bit of deepening the kiss—opening your mouth against his, breathing him in, but not any further than that.  He breaks the kiss but doesn’t move very far from you, and when you look at him, you can see his bright blue eyes staring at you.

“What, uh…”  He clears his throat in that embarrassed way he has.  “What was that for?”

“You talk too much,” you tell him.

“Thought you liked my stories.”

“I do.  Ninety percent of the time, I love your stories.”

“And the other ten percent?”

“I just wanted a bit of quiet.  It was a long day.”

You release your grip on his shirt, and you see where you’ve stretched the fabric.  You try to smooth it out, run your hand over his upper chest where you grabbed him, and the gesture makes him huff out a heavy breath.  The realization of what you’ve done washes over you, and suddenly you feel horrified.  It would have been less embarrassing to have snapped at him all those months ago, slapped him or yelled in his face.  Instead, you kissed him, and now he’s staring at you with those blue eyes…

“Sorry,” you mutter.  “I shouldn’t have—”

He’s gentler when he stills your words with his mouth.  He doesn’t haul you to him by your shirt; instead, he wraps a gentle hand around the back of your neck and steadies you as he leans in.  As he kisses you.  His lips are soft against yours—it’s the softest kiss you’ve ever received in your life, and from someone like Richie Jerimovich who stumbles through his own life like a bull in a china shop.  Who knew he could be so careful? 

You break the second kiss, and you try to find some words—to finish your apology to him, to say something cool or funny to break the spell of the moment—but Richie hushes you.  He doesn’t let you get any more words out, and he pulls you closer to him.  He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you against him, and then you feel him press a kiss against the top of your head as he tucks you against him.

“Don’t say anything,” he tells you in his low voice.  “Let’s just have a bit of quiet, then.”

The two of you sit in silence, letting the sounds of the city fill in the quiet between you.  Except for your own heart, hammering in your ears.  And except for Richie’s heart, beating right under your ear in the same, excited cadence.

[ccraccz]

Hello! I saw that wind breaker requests are open!

May I request some fluff for umemiya, suo, sakura and togame please?

I you could please write about how they would react if they saw their crush crying because they were worried about boys injuries please?

Thank you!

YESYESYES SO CUTTEEE!!! Thank you so so much for the request sweets!!! <333

Characters: Hajime Umemiya, Suo Hayato, Sakura Haruka, Jo Togame x reader (GN! since not specified)

Patch me up

HAJIME UMEMIYA

He usually never got this injured

but the gang that had used you and a few other vendors as hostages had knives and bats that had bruised and sliced at his, and his gangs skin.

After the fight, and after he looked over Bofurin to check for injuries, he quickly went up to check on you and some other vendors

Tears stained your cheeks as he fast walked to you, urgency in each step as he grew closer to you

You both locked eyes, and in an instant, you ran towards him, throwing yourself into his chest and wrapping your arms around him, tightly squeezing before tears restarted flowing down your cheeks.

your tears seeped into his white shirt, that was stained with red due to the scratches and slices on his skin

He wraps his arms around you as you sob, mumbling about how your safe and that he's fine

he brings you home, were you patch him up with sniffles and cuddle him for comfort, where he blushes lightly.

Your hold was nice, and warm, and it was so comforting

He felt sorry that you had to experience such a traumatizing situation, and that you had to see him fight and be serious

he closed his eyes, sitting on the couch as the thoughts of today rush through his mind, staying awake in as images of your terror filled face stayed imprinted under his eyelids.

that day, he did not sleep, even in the comfort of your embrace.

SUO HAYATO

he barely even gets hurt in general, so that person he was fighting would have to be very fast and diligent in their movements to even be able to touch him

He had been fighting a group with the other windbreaker first years, and the gang leader had been intently watching them, learning their steps and movements.

Suo was the first one who finished fighting the underlings, not even breaking a sweat, and he was the one who decided to fight the leader

since the leader had watched them, he had learned how to counter his fighting style and more

it took him of guard and made him hesitate in a movement which the gang leader used to his advantage and struck him, cutting his cheek in the process due to him falling on the ground before he jumped back up and fought back

it didn't come to mind until he finished the fight with the help of Sakura that the scene was right in front of you place

so after the fight, you running down the stairs of your place and basically shoving your face into his chest and you basically fall on your knees, loud sobs resonating in his ears

tears fell from your eyes like waterfalls, arms tightening at his waist and fists wrinkling his gakuran

he laughs as he pats your head, telling you to not worry, and that he was fine, a blush on his cheeks

he enjoyed that you worried so much for him, enough to sob at the sight of him 'endangering' himself to help the town.

SAKURA HARUKA

Get used to it

he loves fighting and getting injured is a part of it

its mostly for the thrill of hurt for him

but seeing you freak out about his bloody nose, bruised knuckles, and scratched face makes him tense

his bright red face basically blended with the redness of his blood LMAO

he's so awkward about it as you bandage his fists, patch up his scraped up elbows and cheeks, and clean him up of dirt

big crocodile tears flow down your cheeks as you clean him up, loud sniffles making him look at you

the tears just kept falling as you rubbed your face to dry them up, but they just kept dribbling down your flushed face and soaking up on his black pants as you sat, kneeling before him on the floor of your place after you patch up his scuffed up knee

he makes a face before standing up, making you look up at him as he grabbed you and made you stand up

he then held you close, holding the back of you head to his collar bone with one hand as the other wrapped around your back and awkwardly patted it

he was at least trying to comfort you, and it was working.

JO TOGAME

it was during a festival

a gang had shown up randomly and decided they were going to start some chaos

so they started to robbing food and drinks, destroying the stalls, and even pushing around some vendors

you had been helping out your friends parents in their stall since your friend got injured and their parents were busy selling their sweets as you kept an eye on the hot sugar when you heard the chaos happening a two stalls down

the stall besides yours was being helped by Jo Togame, who had been watching you from the corner of his eye the whole time, a small blush on his face

Togame had hear the chaos happening and asked the vendor to be able to check out what was happening, which the vendor quickly agreed

The male quickly slips on his Shishitoren jacket, the clacking of his geta sandals being loud as he walks towards the ruckus of the opposing gangs show of power

what he got hurt with wasn't an injury from a punch or a kick, but a few scrapes came from how harshly he landed when he tackled the gangs leader, knees sliding on the floor and ripping his loose, monk pants

you had turned off the heat on the sugar and made the last few sweets to be sold before focusing on the fight happening, your friends parents having started to freak out, trying to take care of the elderly around you

you weren't too worried about the people around, more worried for Togame, with how he slid in the rough, rocky ground

the sound of screams and punches were loud, but you could only watch as Togame slowly stands up and tells the gang to scram

you quickly grab the first aid kit that was under you friend's parents stall and rush forward, tears brimming your waterline as you jogs up to him

you grab his sleeve, pulling him to a seat and cleaning his knees and knuckles

you blink, and suddenly your crying, sniffling

Togame blushes, not knowing what to do other than to hold you close

and so that's what he does

he stands and walks away with you, holding onto your sleeve this time and dragging you to a secluded space

the festival was then canceled for the rest of the night

but both you and Togame stick close to each other, looking up at the dark sky that is luminated by the stars and the moon