#the issue is that i am chasing the words on the tip of my tongue but my god those words can run.

[brucie-baby]

trying so hard to put this into actual coherent words but i am not succeeding so bear with me. there is something so interesting about bruce's no kill rule being from the perspective of a man who has known guilt longer than he knew his mother.

like no bruce didn't shoot that gun, no he couldn't have known, no there was nothing he could have done. but he was the reason they were there. he was the one they took out that night. he was the one they needed to get home. he was the one who survived.

so in his mind; no, bruce did not kill his parents. but didn't he? is it not still his fault?

his entire life beyond eight years old has been an attempt to make up for something that he could not prevent. every life he saves is an apology for the ones he didn't. every life he saves is an apology for being saved. he needs to believe that people can change, that people can be better than they were yesterday, because he needs to believe that he himself can be better.

also, if that man in the alley could not look at thomas and martha wayne and see two people who truly deserved to live, then how could bruce trust himself to see who deserves to die?

this is the crux of 'not killing separates me from the people i catch' - not in the act of murder itself, but in the belief that they have the ability to tell who deserves life. because yes, you may believe that you are right in killing somebody, but so did joe chill. and if he was wrong, how do you know you aren't wrong too?

anyways. i have a headache.

[royal-songbird]

i wanted to try this prompt for practice and it got. very out of hand very quickly <3 anyway enjoy 2.9k words of gay people

“Carmen!” The headmaster barks, his shrill voice grating against my ears as I rise from my place. I keep my gaze on the uneven cobble beneath my feet, walking forward with slow, measured steps, practically floating across the room. “We’ve got another high-risk job for ya, requesting a quiet kill. No dramatics this time, you hear that?”

I nod silently, holding out my hand. The headmaster shoves an envelope in my head, his glare burning through the hood draped over my face.

“Upfront payment’s already in there. You’ve got a week.” Another nod. I tuck the envelope into one of the many pockets lining the interior of my cloak, biting back the snide remarks sitting on the tip of my tongue. A week? Seriously? How am I meant to complete a high-risk job in a week?

Letting out a controlled exhale, I quickly exit the room. A few of the others waiting to be called on shoot me silent looks, various good luck and you can do it being traded between gazes. I let myself smile slightly, nodding towards them with gratitude.

I’m getting into my head again. There’s a reason I’ve gotten as far as I have- I’m one of the guild’s top assassins, I’m sure this job won’t give me any issues, as annoying as a short deadline is.

I make my way through various dimly-lit corridors, nodding to anyone I pass in silent greeting. There’s barely a sound as I move through the guild- its built to be silent, to be hidden. Talking isn’t exactly forbidden, but the headmaster does not take kindly to the noise. He is the only one who shouts, though his room is tucked away in the very bottom of the guild, buried beneath layers of dirt and stone, tucked beneath the bustling city above. 

Eventually, the corridors begin to lighten, sunlight replacing flickering lamps. I’m in the main hallway now, which is far busier than the lower levels. Guild members move back and forth, all busy with their own errands- some have jobs like mine, various weapons strapped to leather belts or hidden in boots and fabric, while others take on other tasks, such as laundry or cooking. I sigh at the thought, envy rolling through me. While I don’t despite being an assassin, it gets tiring running around all the time, always quiet, always hidden. I cherish the rare chance to get stuck with chores, which are spent with my fellow members, quiet jokes and laughter traded between simmering meals, or drying sheets. 

I divert my path slightly as I go through the hallway, winding around those hauling laundry baskets or food crates, leaving gentle touches or shooting looks towards them- a silent show of appreciation, of brothership. I’m given smiles in return, or, in a rare moment, a whispered thank you.

In a considerably better mood than before, I head towards a small set of doors off to the side of the hallway, avoiding the main entry into the rest of the building. They lead into a cramped alleyway, blocked off from the main street with a brick wall. I waste no time scaling it, climbing my way onto the roof of the guild building. From the outside, it holds the appearance of an old church, and mostly functions as one, too. The priests are all a part of the guild, and most of those who come to pray are as well, but there’s quite a few who aren’t a part of the guild, and are entirely unaware of its presence. 

I stand on the roof, looking over the city for a moment. The sky is a rainbow of colors, hues of orange, pink, and purple streaking across it, melting into a golden sunset. I sigh as a burst of wind chases the tattered ends of my cloak, withdrawing the envelope from my cloak.

I flick it open with ease, dumping the few coins tucked inside into my palm. I shuffle them away into a pocket, making a mental note to add that to drop those off later today. Then, I pull out the folded parchment, smoothing it out so I can actually see the words. I narrow my eyes slightly at the handwriting- it's awfully familiar. A repeat customer, then, which most likely means the final payment will be big.

Grinning slightly as I imagine what all I’d be able to get with that much money, I settle down to read, sitting on the slanted roof, my cloak cushioning me from the rough tiles.

My gaze sweeps over the letter, and I pause, squinting slightly.

That’s… odd.

I read further, bringing the paper closer to my face so I don’t skip over anything.

Okay, there’s definitely something off about this.

Clutching the paper tighter, I reread the scrawl over and over again, burning the words into my mind.

They don’t change.

This is wrong- this has to be wrong.

I’ve been hired to kill Sophia Hunt. For the fourth time.

I crush my hands together, staring at the crumpled paper still held between them.

There’s no way this is possible.

Getting hired for the same job twice is unusual, yes, but not impossible. Assassins make mistakes, claim false success, but failing three times? Unheard of. I don’t understand how I’ve managed to miss my mark three times. Three.

I’m supposed to be the guild’s best. The top assassin. I can’t fail. 

I grit my teeth, shoving the stupid envelope and paper back into my cloak. I refuse to fail again. This time, I will make sure Sophia dies. 

…

It only takes me two days to track down Sophia, which is…weird. 

She’s not even bothering to be discreet, going about her business with a dazzling grin, absent of any sign that she’s nearly gotten killed multiple times. At this point, I would think she’d at least hold some sort of caution- clearly, she’s gotten herself into some deep trouble if she keeps getting hits called on her- and yet, she barely seems to show any sign that she cares.

She wears bright, out-of-style outfits, matched with a colorful parasol that she carries with her everywhere she goes. I vividly remember it turning a deep crimson, stained with Sophia’s own blood, but it's perfectly clean now. I scowl slightly at this- how has this woman managed to avoid me so thoroughly to the point it's as if nothing ever happened to her?

And I don’t even begin to doubt that I’ve been tracking the wrong target, putting Sophia’s unique fashion taste aside, there is one feature of hers that is entirely unique. Her hair is fully white, almost like moonlight, a stark contrast to her dark skin. Of course, last time I saw her, it was kept in protective braids compared to the loose, bouncy curls it’s in now, but it's barely a difference. 

I know this is her.

Though, just to be sure, I follow her for a day, watching every move she makes. I watch as she starts the day at a small bakery, where she only orders tea, making idle conversation with the waitress serving her, all smiles and compliments. When the waitress asks to take her to dinner, Sophia agrees. I don’t feel guilt when the waitress beams, setting the date for next week. If all goes well, Sophia won’t be around then.

The rest of the day is spent traveling all across the town as Sophia visits various shops, picking up a couple more dates on the way. I scoff under my breath- no wonder I’ve been hired to kill her time and time again. How many women has she played with? How many broken hearts has she collected?

As the sun starts to sink below the horizon, Sophia ends her day the same place she started it, at the bakery. Except, she doesn’t enter it, instead diverting into the alleyway next to it instead. Apprehension rises up inside me as I silently follow, keeping close to the walls. I stay low to the ground, my hand drifting towards the dagger hanging off my belt.

Sophia stands at the end of the alleyway, her back turned to me, parasol hung over her shoulder. She hums a sweet tune, a small pocket mirror in her hand, but she’s not looking at her reflection.

She’s looking at mine.

I freeze, hand wrapped around the dagger’s handle.

Shit. 

“I’ll admit, you’re very proficient. I thought the week deadline would give you trouble, but apparently not.” Sophia turns around, closing her mirror with a quiet snap! She spins her parasol slightly, looking up at the darkening sky.

I stay silent, even as my mind whirls.

How did she know about the deadline? Unless-

“Ah, there you go. Connecting dots, yes?” She tilts her head with a little smile, her gaze narrowing into something sharper.

I frown, slowly withdrawing my dagger. The metal glints in the lamplight spilling in from the street, dread weighing heavy on my spine.

She wanted this, I realize. The careless attitude, the obnoxious flaunting- she wanted me to find her. 

She’s the one who called for the hit.

“...Who are you?” I ask, voice low, brandishing my dagger. She glances at it with an amused expression, as if it was nothing more than a mere plaything. At this point, it may as well be. Still, I keep it firmly in my grip, just so I have something to defend myself.

“You already know my name.” Sophia hums, stepping forward. I bristle, shifting into a defensive position, my muscles locked and coiled, ready to spring forward at any moment.

“Do I?”

“Yes. I wasn’t the one who called the first hit, you know.” She laughs, deep and soothing. Something in me is drawn to the sound, desperate to hear it again. The feeling makes me bristle further, my heartbeat kicking up a notch. Is she a witch? That’d explain the women from before, maybe she bewitched them- and she’s trying to bewitch me too. 

“But you sent the others.”

“I did.” 

For a moment, no one moves. Sophia just…watches me, almost like a cat watching its prey. It makes my skin crawl, a primitive part of my brain crying out in fear, crying out for me to run.

I grit my teeth against it, forcing my thoughts to calm. I cannot get lost in a panic, not now. Not when I’m so far out of my depth.

“...Why?” I ask after a beat, shifting my grip on my dagger. Sophia shrugs, her smile stretching into something softer.

“I wanted to see you again.” She practically purrs, her tone taking on a honey-sweetness, so thick I’m drowning in it. I narrow my eyes, sliding my foot back half a step.

“I saw you speak to those women. You can’t trick me.”

Sophia scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, please, they all approached me of their own volition. Give me a bit more credit than that.” She says. “I’m not tricking you, I swear. I would never trick you.” “You literally pretended to die three times.” I hiss, my chest twisting at the sincerity in Sophia’s tone. 

“It's not my fault you never bothered to stick around to make sure.” 

“You didn’t have a pulse!” I exclaim, my voice bouncing off the alleyway’s walls. Sophia raises an eyebrow at my outburst, amusement sparkling in her eyes.

“Oh, honey, I haven’t had one of those is a long time.” Sophia grins, and my blood runs cold.

Two fangs poke out from her lips, gleaming in the moonlight.

My heart slams into my chest as I scramble back, eyes blown wide.

“You- You’re-” I stammer, panic flooding my veins, words splitting and crashing together in my mind, making it impossible to speak.

In less than a blink, Sophia closes the space between us, her face inches away from mine. My breath catches in my throat as my limbs lock up, frozen like stone.

“A vampire?” She finishes with a hum, her eyes flashing red, wholly inhuman.

Every nerve in my body screams for me to run, shrieking in unison, a terrified choir singing alongside my racing heartbeat.

Snapping back to myself, I swing blindly, burying my dagger in Sophia’s throat. Blood splatters across my face as I shove Sophia away, not waiting to see if she gets back up. 

I scramble towards the street, but I barely take a step before I’m yanked back, bloodied fingers digging into my cloak. I’m lifted into the air, the edges of my boots scraping across the ground, and once again, come face to face with Sophia.

My dagger is still embedded in her neck, the wound gushing blood, a large crimson stain spreading through her dress.

“Let me go-!” I scream, twisting in her grip, trying to wriggle out of my cloak. My hand barely brushes against the clasp before I’m fully restrained, both of my hands pinned above my head, bricks digging into my back. I let out a strangled gasp, stilling for a moment as my brain catches up.

I’m pushed against a wall, held in place by Sophia. One of her hands stays wrapped around my wrists, while she uses the other to rip out my dagger, which she carelessly tosses aside, eyebrows furrowing with annoyance.

“Well.” She starts, turning her beastly gaze back to me. “That could’ve gone better.”

“Let me go.” I growl, thrusting my knee into her stomach, but Sophia barely budges.

“Ow.” She deadpans, shoving my leg back down. “Look, hun, I’m not gonna-”

I don’t let her finish, kicking at her again. This time, she catches my ankle, giving me an unimpressed look. 

“Carmen.”

I freeze at the use of my name, my heart kicking at my ribcage.

She knows my name.

How does she-?

“Please, listen.” Sophia sighs, her tone softening. “I don’t want to hurt you, I’m not going to hurt you.” “But-”

“I won’t.” She says again, firmer. I go quiet, unable to argue.

“The first time you came to kill me, you caught my interest.” She says, her gaze tracking my face, tracing over it with far more adoration than I know how to handle. “You were precise, confident. I wanted to see you again.” “You-” I fumble for words, my mind spinning. Sophia- a vampire- wanted to see me? “So you kept hiring me to kill you??”

Sophia shrugs, laughing a bit.

“Well, it worked, didn't it? Besides, it was impossible to find you anywhere. You’re very good at staying hidden.”

“So… you led me to you.”

“You could say that.”

I frown, shifting slightly. My arms ache, growing tired from being stuck above my head for so long, and my back stings, a few bruises already blooming across my spine.

Despite my position, and the ebbing panic beneath my ribs, I couldn’t help but feel a bit touched by this. Even if Sophia’s…

I glance at her, my gaze lingering on her white hair and sharpened teeth. Her neck has stopped bleeding, the wound already halfway healed. A lot of things are starting to make sense now- her outdated fashion taste, her parasol-

“Wait, those women.” I suddenly say, realization striking me. Dread crawls up my spine, and once again, I become incredibly aware of just how vulnerable I am. “Are you going to-?”

“Everyone needs to eat.” Sophia says, looking away for a moment, before her crimson eyes find mine once more. 

“...Right.” I mutter, though I can’t quite bring myself to be horrified. I’m an assassin, I’m barely any better than her. Still, I am unnerved by the information- just knowing that Sophia’s been here for who knows how long, quietly picking people off… Would I have been one of those unlucky women, if I never got that first job?

“Well. Could you…let me go? My arms are getting tired.” I ask after a moment, shaking my previous thoughts away. There’s no use in dwelling on what-ifs, especially when Sophia’s already promised to not hurt me. And, despite the more logical part of me insisting otherwise, I find myself trusting her.

Sophia blinks, looking up to my hands, still held in her grip, before she abruptly drops me, her face going considerably darker as a blush spreads across her cheeks.

“Ah, my apologies-” She says, her confident aura slipping slightly as she grows flustered. I raise an eyebrow towards her, not quite understanding her embarrassment. 

“Thanks.” I say, picking myself up and smoothing the dust and wrinkles from my cloak. I pause for a moment, considering Sophia. She’s gotten herself together again, her curls tucked behind her ear. In the dim light of the moon, she’s actually quite…attractive. My face warms at the thought, and I find myself being the flustered one.

“W-Well, this was…interesting, but I should probably return to the guild��” I stumble over my words, inching towards the alleyway with a nervous smile. Half of me expects Sophia to rush forward again, but she simply nods, grinning at me.

“Ah, yes, go collect your bounty. We could meet up again at a later date, perhaps?” She asks, tilting her head slightly. I open my mouth, denial rising up my throat, before I quickly shut it again, actually taking a moment to think.

Despite everything my logic is telling me, I’m drawn to Sophia. Amidst the panicking, tonight was actually kind of– fun. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to see her again…?

“...Yeah, I think I’d like that.” I finally answer, returning Sophia’s grin with a small smile of my own.

The Assassin’s Code states that you must take any job, no questions asked. But you are pretty sure that you have assassinated this target a few times already.

[songmingisthighs]

Hooked

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

ch. xxxi - countryside orgy

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??? × reader, ateez × reader

tw : smut, (I don't wanna say this but) orgy, unprotected sex, a bunch of sexual activities that I can't even describe because what the fuck am I doing

A freshman hookup rekindled into something new. With an incentive, of course. But what would happen if your 'relationship' led you somewhere you never thought would happen to you ?

a/n : buckle up, it's gon' be a long one like 5.7k-ish

After lunch, you all spent the afternoon at the beach together. Mostly running around like children and taking pictures.

When the sun sets, you all returned to the villa, tired from the activities done when the sun was still up in the sky but still wanting to do something fun.

For some reason, all nine of you ended up sitting around in a circle in the living room playing truth or dare like a bunch of high school children at a party. Not only that but whichever one of you managed to sneakily incorporate alcohol into the game should be questioned on their intention.

"Okay, okay, okay," Yunho cut off the laughter, trying to get everyone's attention to him, "I got a good one," he smirked. He took a swig from his beer before snapping his head to you, "(Y/N)," he started in a faux menacing tone, "truth or dare?" he asked.

The alcohol in your system rendered you incapable of feeling anxious on the oncoming question or dare. Without thinking twice, you made your choice, "DARE!" you exclaimed, rather too loudly which made Seonghwa, who was seated next to you, chuckle at how cute you're being.

"I dare you to tell us what in the actual fuckity fuck did that crap weasel Jung Wooyoung used to blackmail you? Like damn, you're one of the nicest girls on campus, I honestly can't think of anything bad that he'd be able to use to force you into being his fake girlfriend," he asked.

You scrunched your nose at the dare, not really expecting his intoxicated mind to be able to remember about Wooyoung blackmailing you. But then again, a dare's a dare and you don't really have anything against letting all of them in on the secret you and Wooyoung had had for a while.

"Okay," you took a swig of encouragement from your glass of beer before putting it down and preparing yourself to tell them. "The blackmail material was about someone that Wooyoung knows and it has something to do with arts and crafts," you slyly said.

All of them, except the ones who know which are you, Wooyoung, San, Mingi, and Jongho, had a look of utter confusion and dumbfoundedness that you actually burst out giggling at how they looked.

"Hey, no fair! That's cheating!" Yunho whined, throwing a cushion from the couch at you, to which you barely dodged as it bounced off of you onto the floor. Soon the others followed in on protesting at how unfair you're being.

You held your hands up in mock surrender, "okay, okay! sorry! I'll tell you," you giggled out, "Wooyoung found my binder the day I went to building F because Mingi had somehow managed to get himself lost there," "guilty," Mingi cut you off, grinning innocently. "Anywho, he snooped and San told him it's mine because he knows me from this freshman year class we took together, long story short Wooyoung told me that he'll release the content of the binder if I don't agree to help him out," you shrugged.

Seonghwa reached across to smack Wooyoung square upside the head, making the latter groan in pain at the sudden impact. "Okay, but what's the content of the binder?" Yunho whined out again, still curious. You sighed in defeat, knowing that he's not gonna drop the matter anytime soon, "It was... A collage, of some sort," "a pretty artsy one at that, might I add," San cut off, raising his beer at you in respect, "a collage of...?" Jongho urged with a smug smirk, making you shot a glare at him, "of Yeosang, okay? I used the pictures of him that I took back from the campus life photo shoot to make a pretty, emo skater-boy aesthetic collage," you grumbled.

Yeosang's eyes widened as big as they could get at your revelation. Yunho and Hongjoong were laughing while clapping their hands in pure amusement, meanwhile, Seonghwa was biting his lips tightly, trying to hold in his laughter at your expense. Wooyoung, Mingi, and Jongho on the other hand were snickering at how shocked the others were, especially Yeosang since he couldn't seem to avert his bulging eyes from you.

The whole thing made you whine in protest. San, who was seated next to you, pulled you into a comforting hug, patting your head and cooing in your ears

After a while, all nine of you were starting to feel the buzz of the alcohol in your bloodstream. It would appear that all of your inhibitions are lowered and the game had taken a dirty turn.

Jongho was stripped down to his boxers, Yeosang had somehow been dared into putting on one of your panties, Seonghwa was still regretting telling his most recent sex dream which involved you and three tubes of whipped cream and ending with the boys cleaning after his mess, Mingi was still recovering from prank calling his asshole former RA with fake sex sounds made together with Wooyoung, and Yunho is currently swaying his hips in an effort to write out his name with his butt, the sight was hilarious and Wooyoung leaving a loud and hard spank to his ass was the perfect way to end his dare. The only one seemingly unbothered was Hongjoong, he had no issue telling how he ended up being a camgirl's extra.

Now it's back to your turn. Out of randomness, you picked truth and almost immediately after you blurt the word out, Yeosang threw you a question with a smirk on his face, "How many of us have you slept with?"

As soon as he asked it, everyone snaps their heads to you, almost as if cornering you. With the help of alcohol, you simply shrugged and answer him, "literally everyone except San and Yunho," the two boys mentioned had their jaws dropped, "Wait, so out of everyone here, we are the only ones left???" San asked in disbelief.

You smirked at him, leaning your face close to his, "yeah, jealous?" it was obvious that the alcohol had made you slightly braver, and it's affecting San. His attention drops to your lips and his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. "Depends, what are you gonna do about it?"

It would appear that the alcohol had not only affected you but also the other boys as well. Because as soon as you taunt him, San pulled you to his lap and began kissing you hungrily. You couldn't help but wind your arms around his neck to pull him closer, wanting to feel him against you whilst you both made out in front of everyone. Whilst you busied yourself with San, the others were watching you two with a look of shock, amusement, and flustered.

You detach yourself momentarily from San, making him whine as he tried chasing your lips with his. But it was futile as you grip the back of his hair and pull his head back, emitting a low groan that almost sounds like a growl from him.

"Whose turn is it?" you asked to the room, eyes not leaving San's lust-filled expression. Someone cleared their throat behind you, piping up to answer your question, "I-I think it's Jongho's turn," the voice said. You later identified the voice to be Seonghwa's.

"Okay, Jongho," you called out, breaking said man's trance to focus on you. Your hands began cupping San's face, your thumbs tugging at his bottom lip as you feel his hips starting to grind on you.

"I dare you to dare me to make San and Yunho cum," you smirked, eyes flitting towards Yunho who is two people away from you. Initially, he looked surprised, but when his eyes met yours, he smirked before beginning to crawl to where you and San are.

Sensing your plan, Jongho chuckled and obliged, "of course, (Y/N), I accept your dare of daring me to dare you to make San and Yunho cum," he said.

It was all it took before you began grinding on San back with more ferocity, hips flush against his that he was able to feel the heat from your pussy even through your underwear and shorts.

Yunho situated himself next to you, his hands pulling you towards him to connect your lips together in a messy kiss. You were trying to balance giving both boys the same attention, so as your hips work on San, your hand reach down to firmly cup Yunho through his pants.

The others were enjoying the show you put on. They too started to feel aroused, some were even thinking about if they were in either Yunho or San's positions.

You suddenly halted your movements on them to stand up. Your crotch is now in direct eye level with San, making him gulp while Yunho stared at your ass in pure fascination.

Without saying much, you unbuttoned your pants and let them drop to the floor as you throw your shirt off. You could've sworn one of the boys watching (most likely Wooyoung) gasped loudly at the sight of your body only covered in a flimsy two-piece bikini that you had put in case the boys wanted to play in the water.

"Shit that's dangerous," Jongho moaned from behind you. You felt that single comment boosted your ego through the roof. You eyed both Yunho and San momentarily, tilting your head to the side as if you were thinking. Your pointer fingers circled in the air in their direction, "take 'em off please, boys," you demanded.

Not even needing a second, both Yunho and San immediately stood up to strip nude. Both showcasing different yet equally pretty cocks, and you just know what you want with them.

Your hands found their way to push San back down to a sitting position. As he lowered himself down, you situated yourself back onto his lap, dropping your crotch directly on his bare cock, only having a thin barrier between you both. Once situated comfortably on San's lap, you began grinding on him hard again while motioning for Yunho to come closer to you. As San moaned at the feeling of your hot pussy rubbing itself on his bare cock, you grip Yunho's cock and began licking at his tip.

"Damn, she's greedy," Yeosang moaned from behind you. You couldn't see the other six boys, but from the sounds you heard, you're pretty sure they're touching themselves.

Yunho moaned loudly when you began taking him in slowly inch by inch until you can feel him at the back of your throat. But even then, there's some of him left that you couldn't fit in your mouth. As you began sucking Yunho off while simultaneously swivelling your crotch on San's, San sneakily managed to untie the knot of your bikini top and latched his lips to your chest. You gasped softly on Yunho's cock when you felt San's tongue running along your chest and around one nipple before grazing his teeth on it, making you squeal. The vibration of your voice shot straight to Yunho's dick, making him groan.

The sight of you on top of San whilst still focused on sucking him off made Yunho unconsciously buck into your mouth. You had one hand on San's shoulder for balance as the other was anchored on Yunho's hip, your fingers would ever so often graze against the underside of his cock and on his balls.

It didn't take long for both of them to feel like they're on the edge, and you knew it too. How could you not? San had tightened his grip around you with his face still buried in your chest and his hips thrusting onto you hard, the feeling of his cock brushing against your clit was amazing. Yunho had gripped onto your head as he began thrusting into your mouth, using it to chase himself over the edge.

Out of the two of them, San was the first to cum. He shuddered and bit on the skin of your boob as his cock let out streams of white cum, painting both your stomachs. You could feel San's hot cum trickling down your stomach. You detach your mouth from Yunho's cock for a bit, using your hand to pump him instead as the hand that was on San's shoulder reached down to your stomach to scoop some of the cum into your mouth before pressing your mouth to San so you both could taste him.

The visual drove Yunho over the edge as his hips stuttered and he came on the side of your neck and onto your chest. The sudden impact made you gasp and push San slightly away to see what had just happened.

Your eyes widened at Yunho's cum that's now prettily decorating your chest, along with San's cum that's starting to drop to the floor beneath.

Luckily, Yunho was quick to take the box of tissue nearby and he and San began cleaning you up from their cum.

Once cleaned up, you stood yourself up from your previous position and turn to look at the other boys. You smirked at the sight of them palming themselves whereas Wooyoung and Mingi just blatantly whip their cocks out to touch themselves.

Seeing that you're already too far in anyways, you pull your bikini top off and pouted at them, "I didn't get to cum, can someone please help me?" you said in a faux defeated tone.

Honjoong was the first to spoke up, "are you sure you can continue, baby? You had just taken two men," he said. You rolled your eyes playfully at him, "of course I can! I can take three of you at the same time," you answered.

Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Yeosang, Mingi, Wooyoung, and Jongho began eyeing each other. You could see the wheels in their heads turning as if devising a plan on how to take you.

The first one to move forward was Jongho. He stood up and walk towards you. His hands moved to palm your breasts and began massaging them slowly, "prove it then, take me, Seonghwa hyung, and Joong hyung at the same time," he smirked cockily. He momentarily looked back towards the two eldest and nodded his head to the side, motioning them to come and help him take care of you.

In a blink of an eye, the one pair of hands turned to three before you could realize anything. Hongjoong pulled your bikini bottoms off before throwing them on Wooyoung's lap, "go help yourself," he ordered to which Wooyoung obliged by wrapping the item around his cock before resuming to pump himself. Seonghwa carefully manoeuvred you into a kneeling position on the floor before situating himself in front of you, he cupped your face gently and peck your lips softly before positioning himself at your entrance, "you ready?" he asked sweetly.

You hadn't even realized that Jongho had situated himself behind you and Hongjoong standing at your side. Jongho sweep your hair to the side, uncovering one of your ears so he could speak directly next to it, "we don't have lube with us, so this might hurt a little, but you can always tap out, okay?" he said, leaving a peck on your cheek as he presses the head of his cock on your rim.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the impact from two out of three of them. Hongjoong knelt down next to you to connect both of your lips together. When you were distracted with Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Jongho began pushing themselves into you. You groaned at the sudden intrusion. It wasn't uncomfortable, but you weren't used to being filled like that. You grip onto Seonghwa's shoulders tightly while he caresses your hips, trying to coax you into relaxing more. Hongjoong's lips moved down to suck spots around your collarbone and chest, trying to distract you.

"Baby, damn, you're so tight here," Jongho groaned when he's fully sheathed in you from behind, his hands massaging your ass in an effort to make it feel better.

"Well gee, Ho, I don't usually do anal with any of you," you muttered, starting to get used to the feeling of having two cocks inside you. You tap on Seonghwa's cheek with your pointer finger, signalling for him to move first.

Seonghwa started to thrust up into you slowly. His cock sliding in and out of you combined with the fullness in your ass from Jongho's cock and Hongjoong's lips sucking marks along your collarbone made you sigh shakily and drop your head back onto Jongho's shoulder.

When he felt like you're relaxed enough and distracted with Seonghwa's thrusts, Jongho experimentally pulls slightly out before pushing back in once. When his hips slammed onto your ass, you felt your breath got knocked out of your lungs, but you didn't feel uncomfortable at all.

Taking your lack of protest as a good sign, Jongho began building up his own rhythm. He matched his thrusts with Seonghwa's. So when Seonghwa pulled out, he was thrusting in, making sure you're never left empty.

Both Seonghwa and Jongho were preoccupying you too much that Hongjoong had felt slightly neglected. He got onto his feet and grab his cock, poking it to your cheek with a pout on his face.

His expression made you giggle because who would've thought drunken, horny Hongjoong is whiny and needy?

Nevertheless, you open your mouth so he could slide his cock in. His cock isn't as big as Yunho and it fits rather nicely in your mouth. It didn't take long for you to start deepthroating him, occasionally letting your teeth graze against his cock that caused a low rumble from his throat.

Seeing your newfound attention, Seonghwa decided to be a little shit and tease you.

"Look at you, so pretty like this," he mockingly said. His hands that were situated on your waist moved to your chest, he caressed the underside of your boobs initially, but his fingers slowly started tweaking at your nipples, "you like having your holes filled, don't you? Having us use you however we like," he growled, fingers pinching at your nipples harshly.

The pain from your nipples shot through to your core, both Seonghwa and Jongho felt you clench at it. Your mouth hung open as a gasp escape you, Hongjoong's cock slipping out of your mouth momentarily.

The man was not pleased when your lips lost contact with his dick. He glared at Seonghwa and reach to yank at his hair, forcing Seonghwa to look at him.

"You better stop that or else you'd be the one sucking my dick," he threatened. In return, Seonghwa only chuckled mockingly, darting his tongue out to lick at his lips mockingly, "you'd like that, wouldn't you? You freak," the older teased.

Jongho leaned forward and hook his arms around yours securely, assuring that you wouldn't be able to move, "you think they'd realize if I slip you off of Hwa hyung and just fuck you myself?" he asked, making you giggle.

But your giggle was cut off when Seonghwa and Hongjoong averted their gaze towards the youngest male. They both promptly return to their tasks. After promptly shoving his dick back in your mouth, Hongjoong and Seonghwa started a new pace, much faster and much harsher than before.

You nearly toppled back onto Jongho, but thankfully he had a firm grip on you. As if not wanting to lose to the two eldest, Jongho began thrusting faster into you, making sure your ass smack against his hip bones repeatedly.

The only sounds that could be heard were words of encouragement from the boys watching, skin slapping, three moans, and one muffled one.

As the three thrust into you carelessly, using use as a mere item for them to chase their orgasm, you suddenly felt overwhelmed. With Seonghwa brushing his tip against your g spot, Jongho rubbing his sweaty skin on you and letting his thick cock fill you up beyond your imagination, and the lack of air that was caused by the blockage Hongjoong caused in your mouth, you toppled over the edge.

Your body tensed up, fingers curling on Seonghwa's shoulder to grip him tightly and your mouth gape out as a choked moan escapes you.

Instead of letting your orgasm ebb, neither one of the three stopped what they were previously doing. Moreover, they seem to be at it more than before. The rhythm of their thrusts became sloppy and uncoordinated. Your fucked out expression only egged them to cum even further, wanting to feel the ecstasy you're currently feeling. You could swear Hongjoong could see his dick bulging out from your throat and that Seonghwa and Jongho could feel each other's dicks rubbing inside you.

Jongho pulled out and came first, opting to shoot his load on your back and your ass than inside you. You groaned when feeling his hot cum on your ass and the man behind you made it his mission to make things messy as he spread his cum down to your ass and to your pussy hole so that his and Seonghwa's cum would mix together. You could actually hear Jongho snickering at the back, amused with himself.

Next thing you know, Hongjoong's hips stuttered and he came down your throat. Though still going through your own high, you swallow Hongjoong's load and keep sucking him to prolong his climax.

Seonghwa's eyes darkened even more at the sight of you so greedily swallowing Hongjoong's cum so easily.

"You're a greedy cumslut, aren't you? Made for nothing other than good dicking and taking cum, if that's what you want, then take it," he said before letting one, two, three, four more harsh thrusts before letting his head drop to your shoulder, lips pressing on his skin as he unloads inside you.

Never have you felt dirtier yet satisfied beyond anything after sex. Sure you've taken two brutes at the same time before (re : Mingi and Jongho), but apparently, three is your new limit.

Whilst the four of you were taking your breath, Jongho was smacked to the side by Mingi using the tissue box.

"You just had to make a mess, don't you?" he grumbled as he drops to his knees behind you and letting his hands carefully cleaned you off. However, you couldn't help but shudder when his hand reached between your legs to wipe the dripping cum off. Mingi smirked smugly at your reaction, "tingly down there, baby?" he teased, pressing a kiss down at the back of your neck.

"Don't tease," you whined, letting your body fell slightly backwards on Mingi's body. As the man behind you wraps his arms around your waist, you could see Wooyoung standing up from his position on the floor to walk towards you. He was stopped merely a couple steps in by Yunho who nudged his head towards Yeosang's direction, "might wanna let Yeosang go first, man looked like a ticking time bomb," he snickered. "You mean a ticking cum bomb," San retorted from the couch, hand stroking his erect cock even after cumming previously. "Damn it, it was right there," Yunho grumbled.

You flit your gaze Yeosang and true to what Yunho said, he had forgotten about his initial shyness. His cock was out in the open air, exposed by the pants that he had pushed carelessly down just enough, tip angry red and it looked so hard you think it must hurt.

Without wasting another second, you stood up and skip over to Yeosang. You drop yourself between his legs, adorning a goofy grin on your face, "can I help you with that?" you asked, eyes dropping to the problem between his legs.

Normally, he'd blush so hard if someone said that to him. But for some reason, he just found you adorable. He chuckled at you, lifting two fingers in a come-hither motion, "gimme a kiss first," he said. You squealed at his confidence but jump upwards to crash your lips with his in a playful kiss.

Lips busy, you sneakily drop your hand down to take Yeosang fully in your hand. Once your hand made contact with his cock and squeezing it softly, he gasped into your mouth.

You detached your lips so you'd be able to look down. You couldn't help but giggle at the sight before you.

"Red lace looks great on you, Sangie," you teased. Yeosang looked down and groan when he realized what you meant. He was so horny that he forgot he was wearing your panties for the dare.

"Jung fucking Yunho," he grumbled, dropping his head back onto the couch in embarrassment.

Still giggling, you lower yourself to press your chest against his hard dick. When Yeosang felt his cock pressed onto something soft, he whipped his head back up and nearly bulged his eyes out at the sight of you rubbing your chest on his dick.

"Do you think you can cum with my boobs, Sangie?" you titled your head at him. The stark difference between the innocent expression on your face and the lewd action you're doing made his dick twitch.

"Try me," he challenged.

Raising an eyebrow at him, you began squeezing your boobs around his dick and move your chest up and down on him. The skin of your chest was colder compared to his hot dick, it felt kind of nice.

Considering how hard and worked up he was, you think it wouldn't take him long to cum. So you work yourself so that Yeosang could reach his peak soon. Poor guy must've been wanting to cum so bad.

As you're preoccupied with Yeosang, Mingi took the opportunity of your ass jutting out to slip himself into your pussy in one swift thrust. Thank god you're still wet from previous ministrations.

The sudden impact halted your tit-fucking on Yeosang. You whimpered slightly when Mingi decided to stay still after waiting for him to move.

"No, no, princess, you're gonna make Yeosangie there cum with my dick in you," he said. You could hear the smugness dripping from his voice. He leaned forward to lick a stripe from the middle of your back to your neck, "so you better not move much if you don't want daddy to punish you," he growled next to your ear.

"Oh shit, Mingi's straight-up cruel, isn't he?" Wooyoung muttered to Seonghwa, who was equally shocked at the sight in front of him. Jongho piped in from the side, "nah, he just love taming (Y/N),"

Initially, you thought tit-fucking Yeosang would be an easy thing. But with the additional interruption inside you, you can't seem to focus. On one hand, you want to make Yeosang cum on your chest. But on the other hand, you think having Mingi fuck you would be amazing.

But you're determined. You tried not thinking about how Mingi's dick is filling you up nicely and to just focus on letting Yeosang's dick thrust in between your tits, having your tongue graze against his tip every time it came to view.

Slowly, Yeosang started to thrust himself onto you. You adjusted your rhythm to his, making sure that when he thrust himself up, you're pushing your boobs down on him. Soon enough you started to get used to Mingi's cock filling you and just focus on making Yeosang cum.

With increasing speed, you encouraged Yeosang to cum. Egging him to the edge. At one point, you even spat down onto his cock to make him move better as if your boobs hadn't already been covered in his precum.

Yeosang is different from the others. Whilst the others have telltale signs of them cumming through their faltering movements, Yeosang kept a steady pace. He'd increase his speed from time to time and his face would scrunch in concentration.

"Come on Sangie, I want your cum," you whimpered at him. His eyes met yours, focusing on the way you're looking at him. Eyes batted and lips pouted, proving that you're really begging for him to cum on you.

"Yeosangie, please," you moaned out. He inhaled sharply at your voice, knowing that he's just about to cum.

"F-fuck, (Y/N), w-where do you want me?" he uttered out in pants.

"Cum on my chest, Sangie, please," you begged.

As soon as his brain processed your begs, he spurted out ropes of milky white cum to your chest, some of it even splattered on your chin and neck.

You were about to compliment him when all of a sudden, Mingi pulled you flush into his lap and turned you both around so his back is rested on the couch behind him.

Wooyoung appeared before your eyes out of nowhere, hand still on his cock that's wrapped in your bikini bottom. He had a teasing smirk on his face as he pumps slowly, "our turn," he sing-songed.

Without even waiting for you to react, Mingi's arms wrapped around your waist and began thrusting himself.

"Ah!" you yelped, surprised at the suddenness. But Mingi didn't care as he only presses his forehead onto your shoulder and thrust at an animalistic speed. Your eyes focused on Wooyoung and how he's staring directly at your pussy while his hands move on his dick quickly to match Mingi's thrusting pace.

You licked your lips at how needy Wooyoung is. So who are you to deprive the man of what he needs?

Carefully, so that you wouldn't disturb Mingi, you hook both of your legs around his longer one's, making sure that Wooyoung could get a better view of how Mingi's moving into you.

Wooyoung's eyes bulged out at the new visual. Your glistening pussy practically sucking all of Mingi so greedily, pulsing with need, pink bordering on red from the way it's been used, and still slightly leaking the cum that Seonghwa had left inside you, not to mention your chest still has what Yeosang left on you. His hands initially faltered in surprise, but when his eyes met your encouraging ones, he scooted closer to you and began pumping harder and faster. How did he not get hand cramps yet is a mystery.

Mingi seemed to notice Wooyoung moving closer to the both of you. It was then when he noticed your legs had spread wider for Wooyoung to see and you're now enjoying how he's fucking into you.

He chuckled in amusement, feeling somewhat proud. "You're a considerate little princess, aren't you?" his voice rumbled deeply next to your ear, making you blush. You hadn't even realized one of his hands snaked to between your legs until it suddenly smacks your pussy loudly.

The others who were watching jumped slightly at the sound. One of them definitely whimpered either from the sound or from how your pussy is now a shade darker.

Mingi is now determined to make you lose control. Something deep in him convinced himself that even though the others had had their way with you, HE'S the only one who knows your body best and how to control it, bend it to his will.

With the determination set, his hips set to a steady pace and his hand rub at your clit in harsh circles, the lubrication of your juice and his precum (along with Seonghwa's leftover cum that he wouldn't admit) made it easier for him to pleasure you.

You let out a loud squeal at the newfound pleasure. Your chest arching high from Mingi's and your eyes scrunching close. If it weren't for Mingi's arms anchoring you, you'd surely topple forward and smack yourself onto Wooyoung's dick, face first. Although, that wouldn't be the worst way to fall over.

Wooyoung licks his lips when he saw the outline of Mingi's cock through your stomach, thinking how you must be so tight and small for Mingi's cock to be able to do that. Not that he think it's a competition, but he's pretty confident in his own size and girth.

Currently you're a moaning mess. Hands groping onto your chest for anchor and toes curling. The pleasure had become overwhelming. You don't know if it's the buildup of multiple sexual activities or the fact that you had only cum once whereas you had managed to make six out of eight men cum in and on you.

Mid-thought, you felt something inside you snap and you let out the most pornographic moan you can muster as you squirted on the floor, Mingi's legs, and onto Wooyoung.

Other than Mingi and Wooyoung, the room felt like it had been frozen in time. Six pairs of eyes watched with disbelief at what had just happened in front of them.

"Shit, she never squirted before," Jongho choked out, making the other five pairs of eyes divert to him.

"Oh fuck, that's the hottest thing I've ever seen," Wooyoung grunted. He promptly moves himself to be directly in front of you. He let your bikini bottom drop to the floor so that his bare hand would pump himself instead.

The way you're currently being overstimulated by Mingi's ever-thrusting dick sets him off immediately.

As if synced, when Wooyoung's cum hit your stomach, Mingi also released himself in you, mixing your essence and him together whilst still thrusting to ride his orgasm off.

When Mingi finally stopped thrusting, you could feel fatigue wash over you and your legs lost all its strength. All you could do is slump against Mingi as he caresses your thighs lovingly, whispering "good job"s into your ear.

Silence washed over the room as everyone calms themselves down from the event that had just unfold. No one was regretting anything, it's more like wonder. How one second you were all playing truth or dare and suddenly they're all fucking the girl who's supposed to be Wooyoung's fake girlfriend.

You were bordering on falling asleep when you suddenly felt your body being lifted up into familiar arms.

"I'll take her up and clean her, mind cleaning up?" Mingi asked towards the rest of them as he stood up to get you to your shared room.

The last thing you heard before closing your eyes were the other seven agreeing to clean up. The smell of sex was still thick in the air, while it would've been disgusting to your normal self, right now it just set your brain to immediately sleep.

"Rest up, princess, we'll take care of you," Mingi chuckled, pulling you closer into his chest as he walked up the stairs.

You didn't know why Mingi said 'we' instead of 'I'. But it felt nice.

It felt right.

taglist :

@raysanshine @peachy-maia @xuxiable @90s-belladonna @theclawofaraven @rae-baby @sungiehan @felix-kithes @nycol-ie @superstarw99 @skkrtnawrskkrt @viv-atiny @the7thcrow @stfu-xeena @laurademaury @multihoe-net @daisyhwa @scoupshushushu @whyisquill @bikiniholic @yunhorights @exfolitae @simplewonderland @verycooldog2 @perfectlysane24 @hannahdinse8 @tannie13@aka-minhyuk-kun @phebeedee @sweetlikeh0n3y @marsophilia @donghyuckanti27 @se-onghwa @malewife-supremacy @hyunsukream

okay, @rae-baby , where are you?? Why can't I tag you anymore ??

a/n : I called this chapter countryside orgy too much to the point that I changed it to countryside orgy from the original life's a beach. y'all fucking ruined me.

[chiwhorei]

the folly of man

pairing: e. todoroki x fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ minors dni

word count: ~2.6k

tags: the softest!enji there ever was, crybabie!reader, age gap (20ish vs. 50), d/s dynamics, belly bulge, squirting, overstim, daddy kink, size kink, dacryphilia, a spank, breeding kink, creampie, i am dramatic and clinically melancholy so it’s a little angsty but it’s really just unabashed, self-indulgent fluff

a/n: i screamed about soft!enji to @messwriting a few weeks ago, then the other night enji took me to paris and wrecked my shit in my dreams. the result? complete self-indulgence. i will not be taking criticism on my desire to fuck this man, he is a drawing. (the banner image is from the lonely doll by dare wright, if you know this book we probably have very similar issues sksksksksk)

hymn: angel by finneas

“Abashed the devil stood and felt how awful goodness is and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely: and pined his loss,” ~ John Milton, Paradise Lost

He swears it’s your quirk that got him. Grabbed him by the collar, stole his soul from his chest— you swiped it right from his rib cage.

You sit across from him, legs folded under each other and pen pressing against your lips. Is it your lips? Or the way words curl past them?

A siren’s call in the form of a 20-something journalist. He hates the likes— prodding for sound bites and snippets to plaster across front pages. But your figure buckles in on itself, nerves weighing down the fabric of a light pink blouse and tight-yet-tasteful pencil skirt. Your presence is gentle and honeyed, it feels warm where Enji is usually burning hot.

Your fever spreads across his cheeks and nose.

“I’m sorry, sir, did you need me to repeat the question?”

Your bottom lip trembles nervously, pulled in between your teeth to gnaw on. Freshly graduated and on your very first assignment, it seemed hilarious to send the newly minted recruit into a white-hot tongue lashing.

“Mr. Number One has chewed the head off of every reporter in Japan, it’s a right of passage.”

The echo of your colleague’s stifled laugh rings in your ear as you stare back, you scan over the small wrinkles by his eyes and the jagged scar across his face. The silvered skin curves around his features like atonement. There’s something about the prolific hero that seems to pull you towards him. You grab the side of your chair so as to not fall forward right into his orbit.

Any attempt at distance was doomed from the beginning.

He shakes his head, eyes darting from either of yours to find the question you asked him. He coughs awkwardly, nodding his head for you to continue. Any desire to snap at you dissolves into the carpet with the very first laugh. You let out a small, tinkling giggle against better judgement that cracks the glassed tension.

“What is your biggest inspiration?”

The question hangs in the air a moment before a rehearsed answer falls from his mouth, something about the citizens of his community and the desire to keep his country safe. Whatever tumbles out is less interesting than how you smile in response.

Every person in the room-- agents, publicists, the poor intern holding a black coffee in his trembling hands-- watch on, collectively agape, at the scene before them.

Flame Hero: Endeavor breaks composure for a moment to send you a docile, lopsided smile.

You decide it’s something you won’t soon get tired of seeing.

“Did you get everything you wanted,” his voice trails off with a hint of uncertainty, one hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head, “I could answer a few more questions over dinner.”

Enji stands in shock at his own behavior, the inferno flickers little more than a candle in your eyeline. Every minute holds sixty seconds of opportunity, and Enji’s hair is graying at the ends. Even if you brush the dusty old hero from your shoulders with guffaw, even if you roll your eyes or kiss his insole with a pointed heel. He can’t afford to waste a moment more.

It has to be your quirk, he decides, reciting like a prayer the only logical answer to his sweating palms and clambering heart. Nothing makes sense but keeping you within arms reach. It must be some kind of hypnosis, maybe a pheromone.

Enji’s penance lies in the soft, supplied skin of a quirkless civilian.

***

There are few places that have felt like home, no matter what four walls build a house around him. He alone is responsible for each one decaying. He deserves a spot in every plane of hell.

Enji leans against the headboard, scanning over pages of John Milton and enjoying the quiet just after dusk. Looking over the top of his glasses, the book in hand falls out of frame, like most everything does.

Pink lace hangs like bated breath from your shoulders and hips. You look on to him for approval, the set your eyes had lingered on in a boutique window now brandishes the swell of your breasts.

“My perfect girl.” His words are filled with wonder, pulling at the ends of his mouth when you twirl, the ends of flowing lace pick up around you like wings.

Winter air creeps from the open balcony to hit your skin, spreading chills down every inch. Enji watches as you shiver, the cool breeze prickles past pick lace with little effort.

“Come here.” Enji tosses his glasses and book to the bedside table and pats his lap.

Nothing feels more like home than when you settle to lie atop his naked chest, cheek pressed firmly against his pulse.

You rest your chin against his sternum, hands crawling up to find warmth from his skin. He feels the thin, golden ring as your touch trails around his neck.

His own hands, calloused and battered, eclipse over your lower back to find purchase against your ass.

Away from the prying eyes of domestic paparazzi and forty minutes outside of Paris— Enji cuts out what feels like a stolen heaven.

Idle chat about the museum he took you to today fills the room comfortably. Your fingertip comes down to trace the lines of marred skin across the bridge of his nose, he hums and smiles as you talk about paintings.

None stood out to him.

He takes your hand in his much bigger one, kissing the band that mimics his own. You tangle your fingers together.

“This feels like a dream,” your voice is barely above a whisper, lest the night air hears the talk of lovers.

“I’m not totally convinced you aren’t a dream.” Enji pulls you to sit back against his legs, in this position you can meet his eyes without straining upward. Strong hands come down to rest at your hips, thumbs rubbing lightly against the lingerie’s fabric.

You scoff, batting at his chest, you laugh his comments off in moments like this. But Enji is convinced one day you will lift straight from the world with nothing left but your shoes keeping the earth weighted down.

Soft lips ghost over his, an invitation he’ll never refuse. Your mouth is against him, small hands coming to either side of Enji’s face. His graying stubble is coarse under your fingers. You inhale deeply, he smells like campfire and expensive cologne. Your tongue slips between his lips. His mouth tastes like the remnants of the bottle of red wine you shared after dinner

The hands around your middle pull your impossibly closer, pressing into your lower back to grind your hips down against the bulge in his sweatpants. Your body moves against him, panties rubbing against your already throbbing clit.

“Daddy.” The title wraps in chords around his vertebrae, the sounds of whimpering hits his ear, and he notices the wet patch rubbing right against his knee.

“What do you want, princess? Tell daddy what you want.” The maneuvering of your hips starts slow, but Enji has you almost bouncing on his leg before you can answer him. Both of your hands wrap around his left wrist, tugging it in between your legs.

“I want you to touch me, please. I- I need it.” You bite the inside of your cheek when the pads of his fingers graze the damp, thin material of your panties, his burning touch sets every blood cell aflame.

“You’re so wet, princess, what’s got you all worked up?” There’s a gleam of humor in his voice, seeing you desperate for him has Enji stiffening beneath you.

“My precious little thing, I’ll take good care of you.” His words write you a promise, it extends far past a night of love in Paris.

You can feel his assurance carved into your heart.

Enji’s hand dips into the front of your underwear, ghosting over your clit and running against your swollen lips. He marvels at your response, the smallest ministrations have your head rolling to the side.

His pointer and middle finger prod against you, inching inside carefully. Even with the utmost care, you wince at the stretch. No matter how many times he’s fucked you open in this whirlwind year,

“You’re tighter than a fucking vise, Christ.”

A long moan escapes you, knees moving to dig into the mattress below you for leverage to buck against his hand. Enji curls his fingers upwards, calloused tips finding the spongy patch of skin that has you squirming. His fingers cross over each other, pumping into you and easing you to relax against the intrusion.

“Daddy, I want your cock. I’m ready, please.” The heat in your core is rising, licking against your nerves like wildfire. Enji tutts in response to your begging, his thumb coming down to rub taught circles into your clit.

“I know, princess, but you remember the rules. Cum on my fingers, and I’ll give you what you want.” Enji picks up the pace of his fingers, his own patience thinning at the edges with each call for your daddy.

“Close, ‘m close,” your voice wobbles, aching legs pushing you against him, chasing desperately for that first release.

Enji feels you clenching tight in finality, a squeal breaching the steamy space around you. You crack in his tight hold, the taste of bliss coats your tongue-- it tastes like tears.

You slump forward against his chest, coming to float back down to earth before he sends you hurdling back towards the sun.

“You’re so beautiful, princess, absolutely perfect.” Enji’s voice is heavy, lined with a certain bitterness you are familiar with. His compliments always sound like apologies.

You lift your head, forehead pressing against his, the stray hair around your face tickling his skin.

There aren’t words that could heal decades. No amount of atonement, no prayers to any gods will fix a life of despair. He shoulders the blame of it all, heavy against bones and muscle.

Moving to kiss him tenderly, lips pulling him back into the world's sweetest direction. You shouldn’t let him use you as his redemption. If Enji were another man, a better man, he would have walked away from you that fateful afternoon under fluorescent light with just the fleeting feeling you dipped his heart in.

He’s not any kind of good in this world, Enji is a foolish bastard.

He’ll keep kissing you, he’ll touch and lick and fuck you until your wings pick up in the wind and fly you away.

“I want to ride your cock, Daddy. Let me make you feel good too.” You beg for him once again, you beg to be a distraction, the sweetest kind of diversion-- hidden snugly in the quiet of a French villa.

Enji is meticulous with stripping you of the dainty lace, brushing off the straps of your bra so the cups fall right under your pert nipples. He moves his hands slowly, snaking up your sides to swipe his thumbs against the pebbled buds. You don’t try to stop the wines falling like prayer, your body still on edge from your first orgasm.

He pulls off your soaked panties, eyes tracing the strings of slick collecting and breaking off from your glistening cunt.

“Such a precious little pussy, and it’s all mine.” Enji frees his cock from his sweats and boxers, the length springing to slap against his abdomen. He pumps his hand a few times before pressing it against your stomach. It’s no surprise that his size is impressive, long and thick in an ever-intimidating way.

Enji admires how his cock presses against you, tip nudging against your belly button. In comparison to your smaller form, it’s a wonder he hasn’t ripped you in half.

You’d let him.

“No more teasing, Daddy. I need it, please.” Desperation sparks against your nerves, igniting with the sharp sound of Enji’s hand against your ass.

“Don’t get mouthy now, princess.” His warning is light, he’s never been good at denying you.

He pulls your hips up, lining himself up so you can sink down onto him. If his fingers make you whimper, the first breach of his shaft makes you wail.

Your hands find his shoulders, digging in to steady yourself with every deliciously unforgiving inch. You’ll never get used to his size, you never want to.

Enji has held composure with white knuckles, but his resolve is rusting with every movement of your descent. His desire to tear into you becomes untamable, his mind swims in with the velveteen grip you suck him in with.

“You’re mine, fuck, you’re mine forever.” He will promise you until he believes it himself.

He’ll believe in forever if forever means you.

The folly of man is nestled at the apex of your thighs, is pleading gasps, is begging for more, is too much and too little.

And Enji is a fool in love.

The gates of heaven open between your quivering legs to let the devil in. He’ll take every moment he can steal.

As your hips settle down finally, the feeling of being so completely full has tears collecting in your lashes to run down your cheeks. It’s depraved, truly, how beautiful your destruction is.

Enji gives you a moment, adjusting to his size and relaxing, his hand comes down to rub against your stomach, tracing against the skin lightly.

“I can feel it,” his breath hitches, the pulsing around him is dizzying, he feels his tip as it moves inside of you, “fuck, I can feel my cock in your tummy.”

Shaky thighs start moving above him, the bounce of fat and flesh atop his hardened body. He can’t help the declarations flying from his mouth, he can’t stop the itching feeling to make you his completely.

“I want to fuck a baby into you, want to fill you so full.” He can feel the way your body reacts to his most perverse desire, “I want you round and swollen with my child.”

Enji grabs your hips, taking control and quickening the pace of his assault on your weeping pussy. You cry out, a string of babbled, “Please, daddy, please fuck me full, s-so full.”

You can feel your second orgasm bubbling up with each stroke of Enji’s cock against your abused pussy. All words are lost, all thoughts fuzzy aside from the man pounding himself into you from below.

“Cum around me, little girl, cum around my cock.” Enji’s words are little more than a growl, head thrown back into the pillows as you constrict around him. His fingers come down against your clit again, rubbing with fervor. He’s adamant on throwing you head-first, body limp and overstimulated in every way.

You feel it in the gnashing of your teeth, the wound chord snapping like floss around Enji. You feel yourself gushing, your cum leaking around him and dripping onto the bed sheets.

Enji cums with one final buck, hips lifting off of the bed as he spills into you. You can feel the thick spurts against your still pulsating walls, filling you to the brim and trickling out even before you separate.

He stays inside of you for a moment, large hands wrapped around your middle, pulling you to crumble into his chest. You collapse against his warm, jagged skin. He lulls you with soft strokes to your hair, behind the flush and sweat on your face, he sees the dizzy, love-drunk expression tugging on your lips.

No matter how many times you disagree, Enji knows it’s true.

The swelling, disorienting feeling of your smile. The visions of a future, of the life he doesn't deserve but wouldn’t give up for any deal the devil could make him. The sight of you, simply and without motive, every day.

It has to be your quirk.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

[aenaxes-moved]

momentum

[hunter x afab!reader] hunter thinks it's a good idea for you to learn hand-to-hand. and if it's a way for you to see him sweaty, sleeveless, and in close quarters, who are you to turn down the perfect opportunity?

warnings: unprotected vaginal sex

w/c: 4.7k

a/n: i'm a simple creature—i see the sexual tension of hand-to-hand combat, and i am brought low. also the marauder has a cargo hold for literary purposes, now. anyways enjoy my first nsfw fic on this blog. reposting bc tumblr censored me :/

“Try again,” Hunter orders as he crouches down beside where you lie sprawled, chest heaving and arms limp on the training mat. “Just like I showed you: trap the wrist, lock the arm, twist and throw.”

“Unlike you,” you wheeze, struggling to lift your head off the floor, “I’m not exactly built to throw people around.” You forego your weak attempt to get up, and you swear you feel your teeth rattle as the back of your head hits the mat with a dull thud.

You turn your head, meeting the sergeant's piercing gaze with a weary half-grimace half-grin. There’s a glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes—maybe incredulity—that he might be training a half-fledged jedi in the brutally graceful art of floorslamming an opponent over a shoulder while the others had taken Omega on a trip to meet the natives. It’s something you should know well, having spent your youth under the wild and unrelenting martial acrobatics of master Voss, but at the end of the day, you would choose swordplay over brute physicality without hesitation.

Especially if you’re facing off against an opponent who can and has hefted you high above his head and practically launched you across the training mat.

If Hunter’s amused at all by this knowledge, he only makes it known with a huff.

“Empire’s out for your head; you need to learn to fight in more ways than your fancy jedi training. That includes hand-to-hand just in case you lose your lightsaber. Again.”

“That was once, Hunter!” you whine, warmth spreading across your cheeks. But he’s right. Loathe as you are to admit it, no amount of force pushing would have gotten you out of that mess on Onderon, and it was a miracle (otherwise known as Echo) that you’d found your lightsaber at all.

It’s an embarrassing memory and, deeper down, a dangerous one that could have ended in more than stray blaster fire. Petulant as you would like to be, Hunter has a point. So you reach up, flapping your hand about until you feel Hunter’s hand wrap around yours, callused and firm, and yank you up to your feet. You stumble as you regain your footing, but as soon as you’ve collected your bearings, you’re shaking your hands out and bouncing on the tips of your toes.

“Fuck it. Let me try again.”

“Do you want me to go slower on the approach?” Hunter asks, this time, a sure note of playful teasing dancing over his tongue. The corners of his lips curl up, imperceptible to most, but you’ve flown long enough with the crew to pick up on his slight giveaways. You narrow your eyes, fixing him with an accusatory frown.

“‘Imps won’t slow down for you y/n,’” you parrot his words with a sour expression, begrudging theatrics complete with an exaggerated eye roll.

Hunter laughs, but he’s already drawing back into a low crouch, arms raised and muscles coiled, ready to strike. You take the brief moment of clarity between your warm up and readying stance to admire him, his hair tied with his bandana, piercing eyes set in a razor focus as his chest rises and falls, even, steady. The sharp clarity is made complete, authentic, with his garb. Having swapped his standard blacks for a sleeveless top, a sheer veil of sweat glimmers brushed over the toned muscle rippling under his skin. It’s an appealing point of motivation, a reward for the small price of being thrown around for the past hour.

“You’re learning,” Hunter smiles, small and crooked, but a smile that breaks past his stolid stoicism nonetheless. “Attagirl.”

Your heart flutters, and you lunge.

Two rapid steps, and you’re meeting Hunter in the middle as he rushes towards you. Right foot, anchor heel, pivot, and the sharp wind of his arm shooting forward nearly knocks the breath from your lungs as it just barely brushes past your cheek.

He’s fast. But you’re faster, you challenge, and you shoot your left arm up, closing your grip with your right hand and trapping his forearm in your hands just beneath the hem of his glove. And when you find secure purchase, confident enough that he can’t counter, you yank with a sharp, vindictive shout. For the first time today, your grip holds.

You feel him roll over your shoulder, guided by your hand, compelled by gravity, and you’ve won. After all the blocks and parries and attacks-turned-scrambling-defenses, you’ve got Hunter exactly where you want him. Hunter may have size, bulk, experience—well, everything other than the Force—that you don’t, but if he’s taught you anything during your time with the batch it’s that timing is king.

You whoop as you feel his back roll off yours, squeezing your eyes shut as you claim your victory into the empty cargo hold.

You forget, however, the unspoken and very important step of letting go.

As soon as the split-second of simple victory flashes through you, you yelp, pulled off your feet and centre of balance flung off to the far reaches of the room. You’re reduced to an ungraceful flail of limbs and panicked disorientation as you fall, bracing yourself for an imminent collision and a sure promise of a bruise the day after. But instead of the forgiving, plasticky foam of the floor, you land with a soft oof on something else, harder than the mat, damp, bony…?

When you open your eyes, you’re propped up on one elbow, your other shoulder dipped close against Hunter’s chest, and your nose just a breath away from his collar, and, Maker help you, you can see his collarbones, sharp and clean through his blacks, rising and falling rhythmically with his heavy, straining breaths. You lift your head just in time to meet Hunter’s eyes, lightly curtained by one single swath of perfectly mussed stray hair, pupils blown wide with pride, wonder, and—

Shit.

“Uh, yay me?” you offer weakly, hoping you can blame the tremble in your voice on bone-deep exhaustion, not the blooming heat roiling in your gut.

“Yeah,” Hunter says, eyes trained on yours, steady and still.

It doesn’t take force sensitivity to feel the tension buzzing high in what little space separates your faces, the boundaries of playful sportsmanship bowing under the weight of testing curiosity, circling, prodding. The breath that passes your lips quivers, of which you’re only aware when you see Hunter’s eyes flick briefly to your lips. He lingers a moment, and you swallow hard, almost audibly, when you catch a flash of his tongue darting over his lower lip.

It might be an adrenaline high—his dilated pupils, the wild thumping of your heart against your ribs. High velocity combat and being thrown flat onto your back would do that.

You hope it isn’t.

The silence is enough to steal the sound from your tongue, just low breathing as you hover above him. It demands to be broken, something to be the first push back into the rhythm of which you have become so accustomed, the comfortable banter and competition devoid of anything more than meaningless flirting. Because for his ruggedly handsome looks, his commandeering presence, an aura that had men and women sending him drinks from across the bar, you had never let yourself seriously entertain the idea of being able to have him.

It’s hard to entertain attraction, much less romance, when you and the batch are high priority on the Empire’s list to shoot on sight, but the possibility has kept you awake at night, fingers shoved between your thighs while he sleeps two doors down. The fantasy of having, breathing him in like air, makes you feel alive, makes you feel the rare and fleeting feeling of safety. You, exiled jedi. Him, one of millions, the dedicated soldier sworn to a cause.

And yet, here you are.

Hunter lifts one hand from the floor, reaching up to brush the hair from your eyes, and you find yourself having to bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep from turning your head and nuzzling into his palm, from pushing close and staying, indulging. And while your mind blurs in the frantic flurry of fighting it, he gives in freely, turning his wrist to run his gloved thumb over your jaw. It’s the softest you’ve ever found standard issue blacks to feel, but more importantly, it’s the closest he’s ever been.

“Yay you,” he whispers.

Hunter leans forward, sliding his hand across the side of your neck, his thumb soft at your ear as he curls his fingers into your hair and closes the distance. One moment there’s a vast breadth of space between you; the next, you feel Hunter’s nose brushing over your cheek, his breath ghosting over your skin for that last moment of separation. Then you’re moving with him, meeting his lips with soft motions pleading for more as you slide one hand up into his hair and press your chests flush.

He doesn’t taste quite like your dreams, all smooth, sweet freshness dancing over your tongue. Instead, there is raw exhaustion and strain bitter and heady on his skin as he licks over your lower lip. But no matter; it is real and present and Hunter all the same.

The training room silence is broken when he nudges a knee between your legs, pressing close between the want pooling low in your belly, as you barely manage to muffle a whimper into his mouth, breathy and high as you break away to gasp. Hunter grants you that moment of rest, and he’s pulling you back down against him again, holding you tight.

“I’ll stop if you want,” he mumbles against your lips. “We stop, and we forget this ever happened. But.” He pauses to nip at your lips. “You give me the word, and we take this as far as you want, y/n. Understood?”

You nod, too busy chasing his tongue to feel his gaze fixed on you. And, as always, your blissful ignorance does not escape Hunter’s watchful eye. You whine as you feel his fingers close around your chin and lift, pulling away just enough that you can see his dark eyes steady on yours.

“I need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“Please,” you whimper, reduced to little more than pleading submission, doe-eyed and dreamy as he slowly runs his thumb over your lip. “Want you, Hunter. Need you.”

“Attagirl.”

He makes a noise that sounds like quiet laughter, but all you care about is that he’s nuzzling against your skin and holding you close. Hunter kisses you with a trembling restraint that you practically feel vibrating under his touch, the excitement of being able to have, the roiling fear of intimacy, vulnerable and open under your palms.

It’s something you know well. You feel the same.

“We should really wash up,” he murmurs into your mouth.

“‘Fresher’s big enough for two,” you say a bit cheekily.

“You really want it all, huh?” Hunter chuckles, squeezing the back of your neck as he presses a fleeting kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Never get anything if you don’t ask,” you smile against his lips.

“Can’t disappoint the lady, then, can I?” he grins, dropping his head back down onto the training mat. You sigh, resting your cheek on his collar for a single breath before you feel him shift beneath you, pulling you into his lap as he sits upright. Hunter offers you a final peck, a promise for more in just a short while.

You silently promise you’ll return to the hold come morning and clean up the mats before Echo can chew you out for any sloppiness, but cleanliness is the least of your concerns as you stumble with Hunter towards the threshold, all soft laughter and kisses strayed off their mark. Whatever concerns about anything other than the bliss of the now are even more obscured as the refresher doors slide shut behind you. You laugh as Hunter twists out of his blacks, which almost has you tripping out of your own, but he’s there to catch you, sturdy arms and warm skin to pull you into the stall and under a startling shock of cold water.

Maybe it’s that brief shock of cold before the showerhead runs warm that offers you a moment of clarity, the space and quiet to realize where you stand and take in the man before you. You’re no stranger to proximity, having spent more than one mission squeezed up against Hunter’s side, but closeness doesn’t begin to describe where you stand now, bared to each other beyond simple undress.

A smattering of scars stretches over Hunter’s skin, an organized chaos of milky pockmarks and slashes so often hidden under his armor. You recognize a few, blaster fire and frightened memories of blood and acrid fear, and the rest you save for a later night when you’ve sated the flutter in your chest as your eyes drift lower.

It would be embarrassing, how your mouth waters when you catch sight of his cock, half-hard and framed by a dark thatch of curls. But any need for shame is dismissed by the sheer gravity of want because he’s thick. You had always imagined him to be big—that isn’t much of a surprise—but your stomach churns delightfully at the thought of him stretching you open, making you feel him for days after.

“You’re staring,” Hunter huffs softly.

“Can you blame me?” you breathe.

Hunter laughs, rich and resonant over the patter of the shower spray, and he reaches that short distance forward, gently taking your hand in his and lifting your palm to his lips. You step backwards, letting him crowd you between the wall as you cup his cheek.

His hands, rarely bared to his brothers, let alone you, are strong and weary with scars of war, and he lets them follow the slope of your arm, tracing down your shoulder, your waist, and coming down to your hips, seeing in full clarity under his fingertips.

“Hold on tight.”

“Hunter, wait—ah!”

You yelp as he slips his forearms under your thighs without warning, hefting you up against the cool metal. In your hazy delirium, it occurs to you that you’re both exhausted from sparring and that him holding you up would only wear him down further. You want to tell him you’re perfectly fine on your feet. But whatever protest you may have had planned dies on your lips with a choked sob when you feel his fingers knead into the soft skin of your thighs and tug.

You arch off the wall, breath catching in your throat when you feel Hunter shift his hips forward and anchor you in place as he grinds his cock over your clit. Any hope of forming coherent words, let alone sound, is completely beyond you, now. Heat coils in your gut, all-consuming, white-hot tension pulled tight and ready to snap with each slow motion he makes.

And—the bastard—he’s good at it, too, leaving you squirming under his grip when he shifts away, cruelly aware of the brief moment just as your pleasure crests. Hunter lets you whine, filling the space with firm, insistent kisses over your collar: enough time for your high to ebb, enough time for him to stoke the frustration, the need tight in your core. Then he’s pressing your hips against the wall again and chasing you forwards, hips flush as he nips over your jaw.

All you find yourself able to do is dig your nails into his shoulders and sob.

“Shit, are you crying?” Hunter gasps, nearly dropping you down into a helpless heap under the warm water.

You shake your head wildly, locking your ankles around the small of his back as you keep him in place. It’s enough to startle him back into stillness, and he readjusts his grip on your thighs, the weight of his cock heavy against your throbbing cunt as you gasp for breath.

“I just—I’m fine,” you laugh, bordering delirious as stray drops of water catch on your tongue. “Just fuck me, Hunter. Make it better,” you breathe, chest heaving as you lick your lips. “Please.”

You know the expression that flashes across his face, the need to tease and prod, making gentle light of a dire situation. But this time, Hunter does not entertain it with his signature deadpan drawl, instead meeting you with a soft, imploring kiss.

“So pretty when you beg,” he whispers.

You open your mouth to offer a snappy retort; even in your desperation, there must be some dignity. Instead, your ears fill with the sound of your stuttering gasp over the water pattering against the refresher walls as, finally, finally, you feel the blunt head of his cock dip into your cunt.

Hunter pushes into you with a maddening slowness, one that reduces you to breathless whimpering broken between what gasps you can take. You dig your heels into his back and meet him with a straining moan because Maker, he’s even bigger than you thought, and it’s everything you’ve ever needed.

“Gotta breathe,” Hunter grunts, sinking deeper into you.

You’re not entirely sure whether it’s a reminder for you or for him, but you manage to slip in a gasping breath before he’s nudging up against a spot that has tears blurring your vision in dizzy euphoria. And when you come down from that high spark, legs jerking over his arms, he’s still pushing impossibly deep into you.

You watch him in a dazed trance, fixed on how his brows furrow with each quiet, flinching gasp that passes his parted lips as your cunt flutters around him. And how, through it all, his eyes never leave yours, boring into you with a fierce intensity, devotion, demanding your attention and pleading for your touch. It’s more than pure physicality, sex under the crushing uncertainty of a bounty and the shadow of conquest at your heels. He reaches for you, as open as he’s ever been, and you reach back.

“Hunter, I—”

Your words give way to a long, aching moan as you feel the sharp dip of his hips finally press up against your ass, filling you like you’ve always been meant to take him. (And you have, you swear, to him, to everything you know.)

“Gonna start moving, okay?” Hunter says through a shuddering sigh. He trails one hand up your side, thumbing over your chin while you tremble in his arms. “Cyar’ika, tell me I can.”

“Please,” you whimper.

And he delivers. You whine, feeling the slow drag, the toe-curling burn as Hunter eases almost completely out of you then pushes back in, just as slow as the first. He’s measured in his motions, and if you could see past the tears welling in your eyes, you’re sure you would see the razor focus over his features. There’s a tense edge you can barely make out from your slack-jawed disorientation, a restraint behind each careful thrust. He’s savoring it, you think as you bite down on the inside of your cheek.

But when Hunter jerks forward, punching the breath from your lungs as he drives up hard, pulling an obscene noise from your lips with a stuttering apology, you realize it’s not some way to draw this out as long as humanly possible. And as good as it is now, it’s not enough.

“H-Hunter,” you start. “Hunter, you—you don’t have to hold back—!” Your voice rises to a wavering pitch when you feel his thumb trail down your stomach, nestling close above where you part around him as he starts to rub gentle motions into your clit.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he rasps sharply with you when he presses deep again.

“You—you physically threw me across the cargo hold—like an hour ago,” you laugh through hiccupy sighs.

“That was different,” he chokes out a soft chuckle. “I want this to be good. For you.”

Trembling wildly, you muster the strength to lift your hand to his cheek, stroking over his wet skin as the refresher patters down around you. The aching stretch of Hunter’s cock between your thighs ebbs into something sweet, warming your chest when he turns his head to kiss your palm.

“You are good to me,” you whisper, brushing your thumb over his skin. “I want this. I want you.”

You hear him inhale sharp, holding his breath as he meets you with dark eyes, wide and searching. To his gaze, you offer him a soft smile. And it’s enough.

You barely have enough time to loop your arms around his neck and hold as Hunter shifts his grip, firm and high up on your thighs, and starts a brutal pace that has you near screaming into his neck. Your legs jerk helplessly with every relentless thrust, and you find yourself knotting your fingers into his hair, cradling his head for some—any—purchase you can find.

It’s reminders like this that while Hunter doesn’t have the imposing stature or towering height of his brothers, his sheer presence alone is overwhelming, surrounding you and consuming you whole in ways the others simply could never. The power is intoxicating, crushing in its pressure, the submission and release to pleasure it demands of you, and you sob, a whiny, choked sound you barely hear over the frantic, wet slap of Hunter’s skin against yours. It’s too much and not enough all at once, and it’s so, so achingly good.

“Fuck, I’ve always—” Hunter gasps, craning his neck to nuzzle up against your jaw. “I’ve always wanted to do this. To have you like this.” You turn your head, meeting him in a lopsided kiss, all tongue and shared breath. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

“More,” you whine, crying out when he pins you against the wall, just so he might reach between your thighs again and thumb insistently over your clit.

Even with the water showering over your skin, you’re distinctly aware of the tears streaking down your cheeks, only fitting for the overwhelming sensation building in your core, cresting in blinding heat with every drag, every ridge of his cock moving inside you.

He fucks into you with soft noises, low enough that they might be drowned out by the sound of water if you weren’t pressed so close. It’s fitting, that the stolid discipline of a sergeant might follow him off the battlefield and into the bedroom, but as characteristic of him as it may be, you can’t bring yourself to particularly care—not when he’s holding you up like a ragdoll and bending you to his pleasure. You cling tighter to him with a muffled sob.

It’s nothing like your nights alone in your bunk, wishing for a warm body and something more than hopeful fantasy. Where your fingers only offered you a shot of momentary bliss, this feels like you’re falling apart in his hands, utterly powerless in only the best of ways as the coil in your gut draws tight.

“‘m close,” you croak as the heat seeps bone-deep, spreading down your spine, blazing in the tips of your fingers, and finding home in the buzzing haze between your eyes. “Hunter, I’m—I’m so close.”

“Let go,” Hunter croons, bearing the rough pad of his thumb harder against your clit, pressing firm with every thrust forward, soothing as he draws back. Your cunt squeezes down around him with the spike in want pooled in your gut, drawing a low moan from his lips, and he meets you with a thrust hard enough that you squeal. “Doin’ so well, cyar’ika.”

Trembling, you bury your nose in the juncture of his neck, but you’re pressed backward instead, a light, unyielding pressure at your neck before the back of your head is guided against the metal wall. Hunter holds you at the throat, nothing but a hovering presence of his warmth over your skin, but enough that he commands your attention, steady gaze, pupils blown as he thrusts up against you, pushing you higher and higher against that mindless gap of pleasure with every intent to pull you apart.

“Look at me, y/n,” he murmurs, low and hoarse. “Look at me when you come.”

He drives into you once more, hard, and the tension mounting in your gut breaks like a dam, flooding over your tongue in sweet, simple pleasure that pulses and shudders through your core. You feel it like your body, your visceral pleasure, is not your own, floating in a mindless state of bliss no longer anchored to anything but your rapidly beating heart and the shivering tremors buzzing at your fingertips. Lips parted in a silent cry, your lashes flutter as you let yourself be swept up in the peak of your pleasure, swept up in him, his gaze trained firm, fond on yours.

And you’re too fucked out to do more than gasp, breathy, stuttering inhales as Hunter settles his hands around your waist and starts a pace impossibly faster than before. Somehow, through the aching tremor in your legs and your limp form pressed up against the wall, you manage to keep your grip steady and keep your arms wrapped snug around Hunter’s shoulders. He pulls your pleasure, agonizingly long with no end in sight, chasing his high as you whimper and plead unintelligibly into his ear.

“C-Close?” you manage, digging your fingertips deeper into the sinew of his back.

Hunter hums, a feeble attempt to keep what little composure he has left, but you feel his movements lose the steady rhythm he had maintained thus far, forgoing fluidity and grace for the raw and primal need to satiate. Lucid sensation beyond you, you simply let him take his fill, lazily running your tongue over his lips and holding him tight as he continues to fuck into you with erratic, stuttering thrusts.

And not a moment later, Hunter bears your hips down hard on his, gasping like he’s taken his first breath of air as his climax thunders through him. You squirm in his hold with a thready groan, reveling in the warm spurts of come filling your cunt and oozing down the curve of your ass onto the refresher floor. For all your exhaustion, you curl your fingers at the base of his neck, pulling him close into a slow, lazy kiss, more languid touches than an actual kiss, but a promise of intimacy all the same.

Hunter tips forward and shifts one arm to wrap snug around the small of your back, propping you both against the wall with the other as the tension drains from his coiled poise. He sags forward with a final, shuddering sigh, pulling out of you and setting you on your wobbly feet, to which you promptly pitch forward against his shoulder.

He laughs and catches you with breathless ease.

“I have no idea how we didn’t slip,” you gasp through heaving inhales, shuddering as you feel warm rivulets of come dripping down the skin of your inner thigh. As the pleasure subsides, you return to your surroundings in a haze, faintly aware of the running showerhead, the steam, and you drop your head forward, knocking your forehead gently against Hunter’s.

“Neither do I,” he laughs and nuzzles close. “Next time, we’ll pick somewhere with less water.”

“Next time?” you prod, knowing full well that neither you nor Hunter were particularly fond of mindless flings.

“Next time,” Hunter grins, tipping his head forward and brushing his lips over your brow.

“If you two are done in there!” Echo’s voice, exasperation weary and gruff, cuts through the patter of water against the metal paneling with a bang, nearly sending you and Hunter scrambling apart if the refresher stall wasn’t already so narrow. “We need showers!”

“What do you mean ‘you two?’” Omega chirps from outside the door. You have to clap your hand over your mouth to keep from laughing aloud as you watch the rosy pallor drain from Hunter’s face as you hear her muffled protests as someone (likely Wrecker) coaxes her away.

“Not it—you’re giving her the talk,” you quip, biting back a smile as you peck his cheek.

“Maker help me,” he mutters.

[iwas-baby]

“affection”

iwaizumi hajime x f! reader

tw/cw: insecurities, beauty standards, mentions of cheating, reassurance, hurt/comfort, angst to smut, angst with a happy ending, comfort sex, make up sex, oral (f. receiving), vaginal penetration, cream pie, aftercare, lots of praise.

fights between couples was common and healthy, though in the heat of the moment words get thrown around and people say things that they don't really means. fits iwaizumi were rare, though they still happened. his eyebrows would pinch together and his hands would form fists.

both of you hated having to raise your voices, especially over insignificant issues. all you'd asked of you was to try coming home from work a little bit earlier, but with all the stress that had been on his back iwaizumi found himself snappier than usual.

"you really don't trust me, do you?" his eyes narrowed and you felt yourself shrink. you didn't want to feel so upset every time someone yelled at you but all you wanted was a bit more of his time, to feel special, to feel loved.

"that's not what i said, hajime," you reply, just as angry deep down, "i just don't know why you come home hours after you tell me you'll be back." you had never thought iwaizumi was capable of cheating, he was too much of an honest man.

"work is busy, don't you realize we're training for the fucking olympics?!" his frustration was clear, irritation seeping through his veins. you felt your lip quiver, you just wanted to scream.

"well how am i suppose to know? you never answer my text, you-you," unable to finish your sentence, you heard him scoff.

"i what? i'm fucking other girls? i'm a cheater? if i wanted to cheat on you i would have by now?" at his words you could feel your heart sinking lower and lower. "because believe me, there've been girls a million times prettier than you and i've said no, and for what? to come home to your constant nagging?"

iwaizumi stopped, eyes widening, processing what he was actually saying as he looked into your teary, exhausted eyes. he was waiting for you to hiss back, to say something equally harsh in return, but you didn't—you couldn't.

moving from where you stood in the living room you started for your shared bedroom, not bothering to even look at your boyfriend. your mind had always been riddled with insecurities, how iwaizumi was out of your league and you'd even spoken to him about it before. your eyes stung as you simply threw yourself under the covers, hoping that crying yourself to sleep would work.

iwaizumi knew he fucked up, sitting on the couch, cursing himself for being so hotheaded, for hurting you so badly. he huffed, rubbing his temples, wondering if you'd still even want him to sleep next to you.

yes, girls had thrown themselves onto him, but cheating had never crossed his mind, he'd never considered it because they all dimmed in comparison to you.

he stood outside the bedroom door, gently knocking on it. you didn't reply and he assumed you were either too upset with him to answer or you'd fallen asleep. regardless, he slowly opened the door and found you curled up form holding your pillow close to you chest.

"baby," his tone was soft, greatly contrasting how it was earlier. iwaizumi stepped towards you, noticing your closed eyes and tear stained cheeks. with a guilty sigh, he sat down at the edge of the bed, placing his hand on your thigh.

you peeked your eyes open and you debated whether or not you would talk to him but seeing the harsh frown lines on his forehead, it was best to resolve the issue now.

"i'm sorry," you whispered, sniffling, you were too nervous to meet his eyes. you didn't have to say it but he knew what you were thinking; telling him to find another girl, someone better than yourself.

he placed his other hand on your cheek, rubbing away a single tear that manged to slip, "don't be, you don't need to apologize." his body shifted as he hovered over you, leaning his head close to your face.

"i was out of line and i know i can't take back what i said," he stopped, letting his words linger in the air, "but i want you to know that i'm all yours." you sniffled again, nodding slightly.

iwaizumi pressed a quick kiss to your lips, sliding his hand up to your waist. you gulped, letting his touch bring you that familiar comfort as he continued with his apology,

"you were right, baby, i haven't been here for you when you needed me," he kissed your lips again, "so, please, let me make it up to you. alright pretty girl?"

“okay...” your tone was soft and barely audible, iwaizumi was lucky to have heard you. he’d never felt so relieved to hear that word, all he wanted to do what to make you happy, to show you how much he cared.

he carefully moved your hips allowing you to lay flat on the bed, slowly parting your legs and giving him room to crawl between them.

"i promise i'll take such good care of you," and you knew that iwaizumi was always one to keep his promises. you let him take the hem of your pants, tugging them down to leave you in nothing but your panties. a caring smile broke his face, moving his head towards your pussy.

his hands gently grabbed your thighs, spreading you even wider as you felt him press his nose against your panties, licking through the fabric.

your quiet whimpers had already begun and soon, he'd taken off your underwear, faced with your already dripping cunt.

iwaizumi groaned, kissing you clit, lapping up your juices while teasing your hole with his tongue. he felt your plush thighs pushing against his grip, he almost chuckled, you were so cute when you squirmed.

he spared a second to look up at you, face already fucked out and heated with embarrassment. he took this and swirled your sensitive bud, feeling you tug on his hair.

“‘m gonna cum haji-ahhh,” he smirked against your cunt and like you said, your cream coated iwaizumi’s tongue as even his face.

“you’re so beautiful,” he breathed out, coming up and planting a kiss against your lips, letting you cup his face and better station his torso between your legs. you groaned, feeling how his dick was pressing against you through his pants, hard as a rock.

he began to strip of his remaining clothing before ripping off your shirt, the two of you pressed together, naked. iwaizumi peppered kisses all over your chest, fingers delicately brushing over collarbones and any beauty marks.

he met your eyes with a guilty look, still not able to fully forgive himself. you only cupped his face, pressing your lips into a soft, thin smile.

"i love you so much," he breathed out, shuffling his hips to begin to line up his throbbing cock with your slick folds. you groaned at the contact, running your hands over his neck, as you nodded.

"i love you too," with that, you felt the tip of his dick push into you, your mouth hanging open, gasping at the feeling. inch by inch, iwaizumi took his time, splitting you open on his cock.

he had bottomed out, watching your face contort in pleasure, giving you a minute to adjust. “are you feeling alright sweetheart?”

“please move, haji.” he huffed with a nod, watching you carefully as his hips began to rock back and forth. your head tilted back, the feeling of the thick veins that decorated his cock brushing against you sensitive gummy walls sending you into a state of bliss.

you could barely hear the praise and compliments he was giving you, too fucked out to process time itself. it felt as if he'd hit your g-spot more times than you could count, his fingers rolling your overstimulated clit around like it was nothing.

"you're my good girl," he spoke with such tenderness you felt like you were melting into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing the two of you even closer together.

"fuck, you're all mine." he repeated, your stomach filling with butterflies, the familar feeling of the cord in your gut snapping was getting closer and closer. you dug your nails into his back, whimpering his name, warning him about what was to come.

"it's okay baby, just let go," he talked your thought your orgasm, kissing against your lips and pecking your cheek as he finally finished chasing his own high.

his cum dribbled out of you and the two of you stayed in that position for a moment longer, his dick softening and a pool of your juices mixing on the sheets.

"i love you, never forget it." he kissed your lips for the nth time that evening, this one filled with just the same passion. you sniffled, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

"i love you too, haji," you spoke against his skin, feeling him pull out of you, letting your head gently rest against the pillow, promising to come back with a damp towel and some water.

as soon as he cleaned the two of you up, you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. his arms wrapped around you, bringing a smile to your face, his protective nature and comforting embrace was just what you needed.

[from-a-reckless-writer]

Supercorp - 49 please

Jess has been with her ever since the beginning of time. It might sound like an exaggeration but it really isn't.

Jess was already assigned with her ever since she was the Junior VP of LuthorCorp's Research division back when Lionel was still alive.

And when Lex inevitably drove the whole company into ruin and forced Lena into the limelight as CEO, Jess remained by her side.

So, really, Lena couldn't refuse Jess's resignation letter when it came, finally telling Lena that she wants to expand her horizons. Lena was beyond happy to hear that Jess was interested in going to grad school and finishing her Master's that's been put on hold. At the same time though, she also doesn't know how to let her go. It might sound a little selfish to keep Jess all to herself, but Lena's sure she's going to die the moment, Jess leaves her office.

But of course, Lena let her go, with a hefty final pay and a promise that Jess always has a place with L-Corp.

So truthfully, she doesn't have a problem with Jess leaving, what she does have a problem with, though, is Jess's replacement.

Jess made sure to choose the best of the best from L-Corp's array of eager interns.

Which means Lena has to work with the smartest, kindest, most fucking beautiful intern to ever grace her office.

How inconvenient.

"I'm her boss," she snipes at Sam, for the nth time that night. It's been 6 months of this. Of Kara coming into her office and making Lena's shitty day, less shitty. Of Kara being the most caring person in Lena's life. Of Kara somehow making Lena eat three full meals a day and getting her to sleep on time. Of Kara making her fall and fall, deeper and deeper.

Of Lena trying hard to suppress every little feeling she has when it comes to Kara by whining about it to her friends.

It's been 6 months of this and now it's Christmas and Kara is looking more and more tempting as the evening passes.

"Right, because that hasn't happened before." Sam rolls her eyes. "I haven't seen you look at another woman this way ever, Lena."

"Again," Lena stresses. "I'm her boss. As in, she works for me. She answers calls for me and she arranged this goddamn Christmas party."

"Then fire her," Andrea deadpans, taking a sip from her champagne flute, arm casually wrapped around Sam.

"Mm. I second that idea." Of course, they're ganging up on her. That's their favorite past time--making Lena's love life a source of entertainment.

"Remind me why I'm even talking to the both of you?"

"Because, you've fallen in love for the first time in your life and you don't know what to do because you're emotionally constipated due to family issues and it's Christmas and Kara's standing right there and I'm pretty sure you want to pull her under the mistletoe and we're the only ones who can help," Sam impressively lets out all in one breath.

"I hate you."

"We love you too, Lena," Andrea automatically responds. "Now, go tell Kara she's now unemployed because you want to rail her for the rest of the night."

"You can do it, sweetie. We believe in you." Sam raises her glass in solidarity.

"The both of you should be ashamed of yourselves." Lena glares at the both of them. "Christ, railing..." she murmurs under her breath at the same time she looks up from her drink and into Kara's eyes across the ballroom floor. Kara gives her a small wave, picks up her champagne float as if to toast, Lena raises her drink in turn.

Kara smiles. Lena flushes.

She's going to blame it on the alcohol when Andrea starts to ask.

Kara is on the other side of the ballroom floor, chatting up one of Lena's tech and bioinformatics staff, Wilfred? Winslow?

Whatever his name is, but Kara doesn't seem to be paying any attention, Lena keeps catching her looking at where she is every 5 seconds.

"Lena, for the love of God, stop with the eye-fucking already. If you aren't going to woman up, I'm gonna get Kara over here myself."

Lena knows Sam isn't kidding with her threat. Sam raises her brow in that 'Well, what are you going to do about it?' way that she always does.

"Fire her and get it over with. I heard Cat Grant is hiring."

"Oh my god, you two! Stop it already, I am not going to fire her, and I am not going to break moral code and for the love of God, I DON'T WANT TO RAIL KARA DANVERS, OKAY?!"

She breathes in deep, her heart pounding from her little outburst. Sam's eyes is twice in size and Andrea's lips bitten in an attempt to hold everything in, her left brow twitching.

"What?" Lena grits. "Why are you looking at me like-"

"Ms. Luthor." Somebody taps her on the shoulder and Lena is confronted with the reason why her friends are completely silent all of a sudden.

"Kara," she whispers in horror.

"Uhm." Kara fidgets with the her dress. "I was wondering if I could take a moment of your time? I want to talk with you about something."

Lena clenches and unclenches her fist and tries to rein it in. Fuck, did Kara hear?

"Is it urgent?"

"Uhm yes, sort of," Kara mumbles. And then more nervously, "I promise, it'll be quick!"

"Alright," Lena acquiesces, heart running a mile a minute. She follows Kara and doesn't dare glance back at Sam and Andrea. She doesn't really want to hear what they have to say about the whole turn of events.

Kara leads them out into the empty balcony, National City gleaming brighter than ever before them.

The jazz notes of the holiday serenade from the ballroom fades out and becomes replaced with the soft quiet of the falling snow instead.

"What did you want to talk about, Kara?" Lena dares to ask, goosebumps running along her arm at the cold.

"I, uhm promise me you won't be angry after I tell you?" Kara says, almost a whisper, a plea.

What could be so bad that Kara looks so afraid at the moment?

"I promise, Kara." The words waiting on the tip of her tongue. Eager to give Kara whatever she needs.

"Okay, okay here it goes, okay," Kara mutters under her breath, hands wringing nervously, clearly itching to fiddle with her glasses.

"I want to leave L-Corp."

Lena's heart plummets.

"What?"

Kara steps forward, looks down at the ground and then back to her.

"I- I want to resign. I want to leave L-Corp. I've been thinking about it for a few months now, and I've finally made up my mind. I wanted you to know in advance. I'll be passing a formal letter to HR in January."

Kara's eyes are so blue under the moonlight and her words are chasing each other around in Lena's head. Kara wants to leave. Kara has been thinking about leaving for months.

And here Lena was, expecting her to stick around for forever.

"Why? I thought you were happy at L-Corp? What could possibly be the reason for you to want to leave?"

I thought you were happy with me?

Lena can't help it, the question comes out of her lips without her permission and she can't take it back.

She thought Kara was happy spending time with her, working with her.

But what Kara says next turns Lena's entire world upside down in a heartbeat.

"You," Kara answers.

Everything slows. Time stops and all Lena can see is Kara and only Kara.

"I want to leave. I need to leave. Because of you, Lena. I'm in love with you, Lena."

Lena's first thought is, Fucking hell Andrea and Sam are gonna insufferable after this. Her second being, KARA'S IN LOVE WITH ME, KARA'S IN LOVE WITH ME, KARA'S IN LOVE WI-

"I'm in love with you. And I think you feel something for me too," Kara utters softly.

"And, I also know how much you value L-Corp and how everybody perceives you and I don't want to start something between us, if it would cost you more than it would cost me," Kara tells her reverently, finally closing the gap and taking Lena's shaking hands into hers.

"Oh, God, Kara, I love you too. God, this is crazy, I love you too. I'm so in love with you."

Lena doesn't even feel the cold, all she feels is this crazy, dizzying rush of happiness at finally being able to say what she's been feeling. And to hear it said back to her.

God, is this what it feels like?

Kara is smiling so wide and it takes a moment for Lena to realize that she is, too. She's smiling so hard her cheeks are hurting.

"I really want to kiss you now."

"I really want you to kiss me now, too, Ka-"

She doesn't even get to finish.

Kara presses their lips together and Lena tastes the cinnamon of Kara's lip gloss, because of course, she's the kind of girl who would wear cinnamon chapstick for Christmas.

They're both smiling too hard to kiss properly for the first time.

Lena breaks away for a moment, only to kiss her again for the second time. This time, deeper, more passionate. 6 months of pent-up emotions and want and love.

"To be clear, you love me, you're not going to fire me and you don't want to rail me??"

"I am never going to let Andrea and Sam near you ever again."

prompts list here

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Emperor: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

synopsis: Being a servant of the Emperor is a unique position that requires multiple positions.

wc: 1.7k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

As you stare at the pink moon hanging low in the sky, you try to remember every single moment that brought you here to the Imperial Palace.

Studious.

You had been a girl who sought to put her head in books instead of learning how to be a wife. There had been five of you in your little group of young girls who sought to improve their minds instead of improving their station by marriage.

And the girls who sought to marry well were not wrong for doing so. Neither were you wrong for wanting to improve your mind with the other men, with who you would never be caught dead socializing. As far as everyone knew, you would not subject yourself to the torture of being affiliated with dalliances. No, you didn't have time for that.

But...

Then you had been snatched from the halls of the library and drug back to your home, the hands of the Imperial soldiers carrying you past your mother and father, who chased after you - horrified and tearful.

At first, you thought you had committed some unfathomable crime and would be punished by the Emperor himself. All signs pointed to you being a criminal due to how the soldiers threw you into a dingy and cramped carriage, one that was not fit for even a lowly citizen to ride in. But when you arrived at the Palace less than an hour later, you stepped into an uncertain future.

With tall walls covered in flowers you didn't know the names of - yet - and fountains in a courtyard made of azure tile, you were sure that you had been deposited in a place too grand for a criminal. There was no way the men who dropped you from the carriage and into the garden were going to kill you. And after a man with long, blonde hair and a bored look approached your stunned figure in the midst of all of the beauty, he held out a hand, called you by your name, and told you he would be your attendant.

But despite the fantastic set of arrangements, the reason why you were now in the palace of Emperor Fushiguro set in before anyone told you.

"Concubine." The word floated around your town when the Emperor's wife died several years ago, but to your knowledge, there had been many women picked for His Holiness's pleasure after that. You'd be the first in over six years, as far as anyone was aware.

And you were.

You are.

You're reminded of this when there's a knock on your door, startling you out of your reverie and bringing you back to the present.

"You may enter," you whisper, pulling the pins out of your hair. Emperor Fushiguro likes your hair down. The large man enters the shadowy room silently, his robes swishing about as he approaches. You stand from your bed and exhale softly, eyeing the green-eyed royal as his feet step to your own.

"How have you been since I last saw you?" he wonders, tilting your chin up with his index finger. "Are you sleeping well?"

"I'm fine, your Holiness," you reply, touching his hand tenderly. "I am well. How are you feeling?" Toji looks at the moon outside, the scar on his lips twitching up slightly.

"I am exhausted," he admits, shoulders slumping.

"Tell me about your day," you encourage him, motioning to the bed. "I am here to listen." And Toji begins regaling his day to you as you rake your fingers through his hair and hum at the appropriate times, letting him be heard in the dim light of your bedroom. When he finishes (usually him just trailing off and staring at the ceiling), you press a kiss to his forehead.

"I will go to the temple in the morning and pray for a resolution to your issues, your Holiness." Toji reaches a hand up to caress your bottom lip, looking into your eyes.

"You are the only concubine who has extended such kindness to me," he breathes. You know this is not true and that's he's just buttering you up for what comes next. Though, you're not sure why.

Because every time you lay underneath him, beside him, on top of him, however he desires to have you that night... you enjoy it. You genuinely enjoy it.

And as Toji disrobes you carefully, fingers raking across your skin like the breath of the wind, you tangle yourself around him, holding his face in your hands, holding him close, holding him for as long as you can, which he adores.

Tonight, you hold him against you as he kisses your lips, your fingers tugging his short black hair as your body squirms underneath his massive frame.

"Eager," he hums against your skin, and you moan as two fingers dip into your core, playing with your slick while the other grabs your breast. Whether it's his practice with the other concubines or his deceased wife, you don't know. But it seems that Toji can play you to his liking, drawing sounds out of you like a skilled harpist. And every night he'd come to visit you, it would be the same way - he'd make a small symphony, then leave when the sun came up to return to running the country.

Toji reminds you of his skill as he rubs your clit repeatedly, lips latching onto your nipple and toying with it before moving to the other.

"Your Holiness," you exhale, but the Emperor whispers,

"Please. Call me Toji while I am with you, y/n." You nod as he kisses down your stomach and lifts your legs over his broad shoulders, hands roaming over your thighs as he spreads them apart. When his cool tongue sinks into your cunt, you stiffen, grasping one of his hands for leverage.

"Toji..." you moan, but he doesn't answer you as his tongue flicks back and forth, preparing you and tasting you at the same time. His eyes flick up to watch your face, which makes your toes curl. Just like he knew they would.

As he toys with you, you can hear his soft grunts of pleasure, feel the kisses, touch his soft hair as his head moves around, and watch him devour you earnestly. All of your senses light up at once, bringing you to a climax you didn't expect when his hands tug your nipples until you're overstimulated and shaking underneath his mouth.

"Oh, gods," you cry out, and Toji hums, speeding up his movements. "I'm going to cum," you pant in response, but he doesn't let up, tipping you over the edge with his ministrations and making your body quiver violently.

You only stop shaking when you feel his cockhead at your entrance, and you wonder how long you'd been trembling as he shirked off his clothes.

"Oh!"

Toji slides into you easily, his girth the only one you'd ever felt in your entire life. When he bottoms out inside of you, he moans, then leans down to capture your lips in his.

"Slow, slow..." you whisper, pressing your hands against his shoulders.

"I know... Shh, shh, shh..." he replies, kissing down your neck and removing your hands tenderly. "I know you like my own mind, my little nightingale." You exhale slowly, legs still shaking as he pumps into you carefully. "You're the only one that sings for me like you do." Another kiss is pressed to your lips. "The only one that attends to me like you do." And another. "The only one I can trust."

His words sink to the pit of your stomach, and you feel some sort of emotion welling up inside of you. But it's quickly pushed down when Toji's teeth sink into the fleshy part of your ear. You jerk a little, clenching around him, and he hisses before chuckling. "Works every time."

And you love it, every single moment of this. Toji speeds up his strokes, making you moan and pant in time with him.

"You're the only one that really enjoys this," he breathes, sweat dripping down from his forehead. You look into his eyes and nod, biting your bottom lip. "I even took your maidenhood and you never resented me for it."

"Never," you agree, nodding again before shuddering. "Toji, just like that! Please..." Toji obeys, silencing himself as he pumps into you even faster, almost reaching his climax with you, hips stuttering and jerking as your walls clench around him rhythmically. Toji groans loudly, his body heaving as he comes down from the short high and then rolls onto his back after pulling out of you.

"Come," he whispers hoarsely, tugging you close to his side and drawing the sheets around your bodies. He nestles his face into your hair and murmurs, "You are the only concubine I feel close to. Only because you love and cherish Princess Tsumiki, and you tend to my needs when you see me."

"It is my duty, is it not?"

"You could be resentful like the others."

"And they let you touch them?" Toji grunts once.

"I touch them, then I leave. It is unbearable at times, but... it's my duty to produce a male heir at some point." You look over your shoulder at him and smile.

"And you will have it."

"I'm hoping I will have it by you so that I can get rid of these other women." The implications of his words are so startling that you flinch in shock. "No?" Toji wonders, frowning as he touches your cheek.

"N-not no, but... Me? From concubine to consort? No other concubine will give you a son?"

"No other concubine can give me a son. That was why I picked them in the first place," he sighs, pulling you even closer. "But now... I am ready for another child. A son to take on the Imperial reign. Through you." He splays a hand across your belly, rubbing it tenderly before yawning loudly.

"Sleep well, your Ho- I mean, Toji." But he's already asleep, nose tucked into the crook of your neck and arms around your frame. Just like you like it.

Concubine to consort? You think to yourself in the moonlight. With an Imperial son?

A smile creeps its way across your face at the thought of being pregnant with Toji's child. Toji's son. To be the vessel of such a treasure... it would make your worth in his eyes that much more.

You fall asleep with that thought, and add "pray for a son" to your list of petitions to the gods.

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TAGGING: @missbonekitty @wack0-genius @thankuary @r-i-m-f-009 @leanne-tamashi @rein-icu @brownskinnedgirll @savantsoulfinder @chilledlucifer @kontentious @flare-on @meena-in-a-nutshell @falling-through-pages @naoyasdarling @vabybizzle @fiona782 @debevv @suguruswaifu

[and-knowing-is-half-the-battle]

Got a good response! How about chapter 2?

Winterrogation, Chapter 2: The deal

Chapter 1 found here

Summary: The Winter Soldier is interrogating you for the second time with his unusual methods. 

Pairing: Winter soldier x fem!reader

Work Count: 1.7K

Warnings: dubcon, biting, bondage, smut, rough sex, minors DNI, vibrator, overstimulation, oral (m rec), penetrative sex, use of nicknames (sweetheart, good girl), creampie. 

A/N: Do not copy, translate, repost or rewrite my work, even if you credit me. I do not give my permission for my works to be copied or shared on other sites.

Picture source: bucky-daddy

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Two men led you down a set of stairs, each holding an upper arm and wrist. You did your best to remain calm, taking in your surroundings to distract yourself. It seems Hydra had taken up residence in an old home or mansion, with lots of wood panelling and antique furniture. You knew where you were headed, his words ringing clear in your mind, “I’ll be interrogating her again tomorrow.” You weren’t sure how to regard him since yesterday. A mixture of desire, fear, humiliation, and shame churned in your belly. 

They had given you what you assumed to be standard issue Hydra clothing, a tight black long sleeved shirt and black cargo pants. They had given you nothing for your feet, leaving you feeling particularly vulnerable as you resisted slightly, skittering down the basement hallway. After all the handsome wood interior, the three large rudimentary metal crossbars on the door were jarring in comparison. Two armed guards took them down, unlocked the door, and opened it as you approached. 

Your mouth went dry as they shoved you inside, and you heard them reverse their actions, locking you inside. The room was sparsely furnished: a trunk full of clothing, a desk with a few books and some papers that looked like floorplans strewn on it, and a large metal four-poster bed. And the winter soldier was sitting on it. 

He stood up, practically towering over you, and approached in his intentional and menacing way. You instinctively backed up as he descended on you, surprising you by catching you in a bruising kiss, pinning you against the door. It was a rough kiss, his tongue pushing its way coarsely into your mouth, and once again you tasted the sweet mint on his breath. 

He pulled back and suddenly swung you effortlessly onto his massive shoulder, taking the few steps to the bed and tossing you down. You scrambled back, knocking the singular pillow to the ground. 

“I s-swear. I was telling the truth yesterday! I d-don’t know anything else! Please!” You squeaked, holding your hands out defensively. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he chuckled unkindly, pulling his shirt off over his head, exposing his broad chest littered with bruises, cuts, and scars of varying ages. You swallowed thickly, trying not to stare at his corded muscles. “You said you would be my toy,” He reminded you, “so I thought we might play a game,” 

He reached forward and pulled your ankles toward him, unbuttoning your fly and tugging your pants off. You were frozen in place, feeling your heart pounding in your chest as he leaned over you, making true eye contact. The darkness in his eyes was terrifying, yet magnetic. 

“Each time you cum, you have to stay one more day,” he proposed with his gravelly voice, undoing his own pants and letting them drop, revealing black boxers. He moved forward, his thick thigh slotting between your trembling legs. 

You shook your head, moving backward again as he pursued, grabbing your thigh firmly with his metal hand and pulling your shirt off in one swift motion with the other. While he turned to throw it to the side, you took advantage of his distraction and slipped out of his grip, scrambling to the floor and making it a foot or two before his fist gripped your hair in warning. You stilled, panting, and stood as he raised his hand to your height. 

“While I enjoy the chase, sweetheart, I don’t know where you think you’re going,” he smirked, tossing you back on the bed. “Now be a good girl and do what I say. Starting with taking care of those,” he gestured to your bra and underwear. 

You knew better than to defy the Winter Soldier, so, looking away in embarrassment, you complied, feeling his burning gaze watch you. He slid toward you again, leaning down over the bed to bring up a large metal shackle on the end of a chain, which you now realized were attached to the bottom of each bedpost. He held his large hand out expectantly, looking at you under his heavy brow, daring you to challenge him. You placed your comparatively small arm in his hand, and he wound cloth around it several times before securing the shackle over the top. Against your better instincts, you felt electrified by the touch of his skin on yours. 

“What a good, pretty, little thing you are,” he taunted, repeating the same with the other arm and each leg. There was quite a bit of wiggle room between each point of restraint until he reached down and secured a thick velcro strap against your belly. “Much better,” he hummed, lying alongside you, “now we can play,” 

He started with the same trick, a vibrator tucked inside you on low. It lit up your nerves, making you sensitive to any touch. He grabbed at your breasts with his flesh hand, biting into your neck. You cried out, your wrists pulling at the slack of the chain. He gripped your jaw, turning your face to him to kiss you again as you felt his bulge growing on the side of your thigh. He brought his hand down to turn the vibrator up, accidentally brushing against your leg with a light touch, causing you to shiver. A glint of understanding caught his eye and you knew that you were done for. 

He ran a single finger along the column of your neck, lightly teasing your skin before trailing down to circle your nipple. You groaned, trying to shift away from him uselessly. 

“So that’s it,” he teased, nipping at your ear. You had never been so close to him before. His smell was woody and masculine, adding to the wetness growing between your legs - which his super soldier senses picked up right away. He breathed deeply, your cheeks heating in response, then licked lightly along your neck. It didn’t take long for you to be a quivering mess. When you were practically dripping, he rid himself of his boxers and positioned his cock by your mouth. 

“Get it nice and wet,” he groaned when you licked at his tip, once again losing the battle against your wits. You pulled him into your mouth, wetting as much of his length as you could, twirling your tongue around his shaft. He then unstrapped the velcro and knelt toward the end of the bed, pulling your hips toward him, making your arms taut, but allowing your legs to bend toward your chest despite the chains, your pussy on display for him. He pulled the vibrator out and stuffed his cock inside you, his hands supporting each thigh as he fucked you roughly. 

You forgot everything but the giant cock inside you. You forgot your name. And when he reached down to play with your clit, you keened within seconds and bucked while he continued to fuck you through your high. When you came back down, he leaned over you, caging you between his large arms, his long hair swinging around his face. 

“One,” he grunted, pistoning into you without mercy. You were finally stripped away enough to admit to yourself that being helpless beneath him was all you wanted. That losing all control was making you come undone. He changed his angle slightly, hitting your g spot with every thrust, and reached between you to circle your clit again with his flesh fingers. Your realization mixed with this sensation sent you tumbling over the edge again, clenching against him. He groaned, his own climax being pulled out of him by the force of your pussy. He stayed hovering over you for a moment while you both panted. 

“Two,” he breathed heavily onto your sweat slicked neck, laying beside you again. He didn’t give you much time before his metal thumb ghosted over your nipple, his heavy arm laid across you preventing much movement. You twitched against him, gasping as your heart rate skyrocketed when he didn’t relent. It could have been five minutes, it could’ve been an hour. All you knew was that your nerves were stretched to their breaking point when he finally reached down and stroked your tender clit again. You struggled to get away, feeling overstimulated, when he caught you by surprise by leaning up and licking your nipple slowly. 

You sobbed as you unconsciously rutted against his hand, wanting him to stop and wanting him to never stop. When you finally came, squirting audibly against his hand, your spent muscles strained against him and the shackles. 

As your vision returned to you, you caught him licking you off his palm with a moan. He obviously got off on being in control as much as you did being under his control. 

“Three,” he said as he got up, pulling his clothes back on. He walked to the door, knocking three times, and the guards on the other side began the process of opening the door. Two of them entered, approaching you to undo your bonds as he gave them orders. “Take her to The Artist. I want her marked. And keep her for the three days I am gone,” 

He leaned against the wall as you were allowed to dress, except for your shirt, which a guard held instead. His dark blue eyes watched your feet as you were lead out much in the same way you were lead in, which you were grateful for considering the trembling state of your legs. As they took you down a series of hallways, you felt you understood something. Of course he liked control - the locked door, the armed guards, the shackles too big for you on the bed - was he a prisoner, too?

They brought you to a room where an older man waited with a tattoo gun. 

“The Winter Soldier wants her marked,” one guard said, as they pushed you roughly into a chair, holding your left arm and shoulder still. 

“Very well,” he said, wetting his finger with his tongue to flip the pages of his book. When he found what he wanted, he brought his chair closer, holding the book in his lap open to the page with a red star overlapped by jagged black lines.    

Chapter 3

[kiki-shortsnout]

Intimacy prompt 34 and 37 for IronStrange pleaze?.

Oh I think Have I Ever is my favorite work of yours in intimacy because there's no way those 2 will get together without being dramatic first haha XD

Hey! Thank you for the ask, and thank you for the compliment, I'm happy you're enjoying these prompts!

Whew! I'm making some progress on these prompts!

***

‘Do you regret it?’

Tony pulled up his sunglasses so he could give him the full effect of his unimpressed stare.

‘Am I supposed to pluck the context out of thin air, Strange? Regret what?’ he asked, flicking his sunglasses back into place, and sinking his feet further into the scorching sand. He heard the breath leaving the wizard’s lungs as he sat up on the blanket, the shift of bare skin across the fibers of it.

‘No, because you know exactly what I’m talking about.’

Groaning dramatically, Tony flung his arms out behind him to support his weight as he leant back, palms stinging from the heat of the sand, glorious, smoldering heat. He didn’t answer straight away, keeping his gaze locked on Morgan leaping through the frothy waves, Peter a few seconds behind her, just as excited.

‘No. No, I don’t regret it.’

His divorce with Pepper wasn’t something he liked to talk about, but their relationship was well past the point of idle chitchat. Hours wedged together on an alien spaceship would do that. They’d stared at death incarnate together, had given everything they could to stop Thanos, and that formed a connection between people, regardless of their backgrounds.

Magical or not.

Tony sat up, inching closer to the shade Stephen had refused to leave the whole time they’d been at Malibu, and taking a moment to eye up his milky white skin. The man looked like he could get sunburnt in the shade. Using magic to tilt the umbrella so Tony could share, Stephen scooped up the seashells Morgan had found earlier, gleaming treasure she had entrusted him with their safekeeping.

It made him smile, how seriously Stephen treated her, and it made an unusual sensation stir in his chest, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time, not since he’d first started dating Pepper.

‘I think she loved the idea of me, what I could be, what I would’ve been if not for Iron Man,’ Tony said suddenly, watching his kids screech as the Cloak chased after them, shaking water from its fabric, indicating it’d been dunked in saltwater.

‘I wanted to be that man for her, I really did, and she’s still one of the most important people to me, not because she’s the mother of my child, but because I love her. I always will, just not in the way she deserves.’

‘Tony, this wasn’t an excuse for you to start tearing your self-esteem into ribbons,’ Stephen scolded.

‘I’m not, I’m answering your question. I knew, we both knew as soon as I leapt aboard the alien doughnut that it was over. We tried to work past it, all of us left behind in the five years you guys were gone tried to cobble our lives back together, but it…’ Tony sighed, scooping up a handful of sand and gazing at the millions of sun-kissed gems, fragments that created a whole.

‘I get it, I suppose it’s hard to love a hero, it’s hard to understand…unless you’re one yourself.’

‘I don’t blame her for wanting me to give up Iron Man, I get it, I just…couldn’t. I tried, but as soon as you came to me about Thanos, I knew I had to go…I didn’t stop to think about how it might affect her, jumping on another suicide mission.’

Tony reached over Stephen’s ridiculously long legs to reach his can of lemonade he’d left there earlier, grimacing at the warmth of the liquid, but grateful for the way it soothed his dry throat.

‘What about you, asshole, you got a special lady?’ Tony asked, deflecting the conversation.

‘Nope, no special someone,’ Stephen stressed the last part, watching the kids in the water and inhaling deeply.

Now that Tony didn’t know. He should’ve really, after the flirty little wink he’d given when they’d first met, but Tony had chalked that up to the man showing off his impressive skills. Tony wasn’t arrogant enough that he couldn’t admit Stephen had an extraordinary repertoire of skills, and the man could fight…but he didn’t have to verbalize it.

Strange had a big enough head already.

‘You were right, this…this was needed,’ Stephen said, waving a hand at the beach, indicating the this. Tony was distracted by the tremble in his fingers, the slender scars across his fingers and the back of his hands, revealing the trauma, the pain he must have felt having pins in his bones.

He could understand that, the story scars left behind, the proof of their hubris.

‘Well, I promised you both, didn’t I? Once we got back to Earth and everyone was saved, we were going to have a holiday. No outer space travels, no insane alien overlords trying to destroy us. Just us, the sun, sea and warm lemonade,’ Tony held his up in a toast, grinning as Stephen grabbed his own can and clinked the side of it.

Morgan had stopped running in the sea and was now digging a hole in the sand with her bare hands, watching as the tide came in and filled it, trying to create a moat of sorts. Lifting her head, Tony watched the briny breeze tease her salt-crusted tangles away from her face. His love for her startled him at times, how he could love another being as much as this. He loved Peter too, the kid had been his driving force to discover the trick behind time travel, and he’d risked everything to bring him home.

Thinking about them both made other feelings surface too, black oozing things that he tried to suppress, negative feelings about why his own father couldn’t have felt the same, if one day he would treat Morgan and Peter with the same cold-hearted disregard.

‘Tony, hey douchebag, you alright?’

The sun overhead burnt his gaze gold as he lifted his eyes, leaving him dazed and blinking back tears.

‘Yeah, sorry, I’m good.’

‘You drifted away there…anything you want to talk about?’ Stephen asked, his tone careful, trying not to probe.

‘Nah, Doc, just my daddy issues rearing their ugly head again.’

Stephen looked at him then, his aquamarine eyes glowing from the sun’s reflection, and Tony felt like his gaze was burning back the layers he swathed himself in, piercing his body and reading his mind. He couldn’t explain it, but he’d always had the sense Stephen knew more than what he revealed, that he could see things in the fabric of the universe that Tony was blind to.

Fourteen million futures, each a glimpse of a possibility, how many more of them were out there? What else had Stephen seen?

‘Tony, you’re a wonderful parent,’ Stephen argued.

‘How would you know!’ He regretted the snap, knowing it was part of his self-defense mechanism, but Stephen didn’t know him that well yet to recognize it for what it was, and he opened his mouth to apologize when he suddenly found a trembling hand across his mouth.

‘Because I’ve watched you with them. I saw you with Peter on the ship, the sheer horror in your eyes when you thought you’d brought him to his death, I could literally hear your brain trying to think of a way to send him home. With Morgan, Tony, you worship the ground she walks on, you’re caring, attentive…’ Stephen trailed off, a slight redness to his cheeks as he let his hand fall.

Tony went to warn him that he was burning from the sun when he caught sight of Stephen’s gaze fixed on his lips. Feeling daunting, he let the tip of his tongue come out to wet his bottom lip, suppressing his laugh when he saw Stephen’s blush deepen, his gaze turning back towards the sea.

He could do one of two things here. Ignore what had just happened and go back to the carefree attitude they were enjoying at the beach, or address the issue and explore the possibilities of what it could mean for them. Despite how quickly his brain tended to work, the way it could create possible scenarios and see them through in order for him to select the best one, Tony found himself hesitating.

‘When you said it’s hard to love a hero…were you referring to yourself?’ Tony asked.

Stephen didn’t answer for a moment, his gaze now on the Cloak shielding the kids from the worst of the sunshine, its collar dipping down as it tried to examine the castle Peter was building beside Morgan’s moat.

‘It’s not hard to love you,’ Stephen answered, his words nearly lost in the breeze.

‘I’ll have you know it’s near impossible to love me,’ Tony joked, his mouth moving faster than his brain. ‘I’m a mess, I forget about people when I’m inventing, I’ll always put the safety of Earth before my partner-’

Stephen’s mouth on his made his ramblings stop, the touch of shaking fingers on his jaw felt like wind brushing over sunburnt skin, blistering and soothing in equal measure.

‘It’s because of those things that I like you,’ Stephen murmured against his lips. ‘It’s not the idea of you I love, Tony Stark, I know who you are. Fourteen million versions of you.’

Despite the surprise he felt at this revelation, the clench in his gut from the anticipation of what this could mean, Tony smiled against his lips, leaning closer.

‘Sorry I didn’t ask,’ Stephen whispered across his mouth. ‘Can I kiss you again, Tony?’ His free hand covered Tony’s on the sand as the other continued to sweep across his jawbone, down to his throat and back again.

‘I could be persuaded,’ Tony agreed with a laugh, pretending to fight off Stephen’s tongue invading his mouth, falling back to the ground dramatically. ‘Why, Doctor Strange, I didn’t know you had it in you!’ he mock gasped, wriggling away from Stephen’s lunge, and getting to his feet as he scrambled down to the water.

‘Prepare to eat seawater, Stark,’ Stephen growled from behind him, giving chase.

He’d never seen himself in this position five years ago, hadn’t been able to see past the frigid metal walls of the doughnut ship as he hurtled forward on his suicide mission, but he was glad events had led him here. Looking over his shoulder at Stephen’s skin gleaming in the light as he pelted after Tony on the beach, he screamed for Morgan to save him, cackling as she ordered the Cloak to stop the Sorcerer Supreme.

This wasn’t where he saw his life at all, divorced, a beautiful daughter, an all but adopted mutant child, a sentient Cloak and a potential wizard boyfriend, but he was happy.

For the first time in years, he could say with complete honesty that he was content with his life.

[makoodlesarchive]

bad dragon

here i am delivering content that NO ONE ASKED FOR !! this is nasty and i got super embarrassed just writing it but i hope you enjoy it anyway

honestly no one look at me, just let me indulge in this in peace

pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader

word count: 10k

warnings: blowjobs, penetrative sex, virgin kirishima, lots of cum (like, a ridiculous amount), breeding (kinda), size kink?. it’s not exactly anthro bc everyone is human here but uhh non-standard genitals, i guess? kirishima has an unusual dick: pls see here for reference      OR     check out the amazing fanart for kiri’s dick !!

Tip Jar!

  dragon dick kiri masterlist!

                            »»————-　♡　————-««

Kirishima Eijirou was a perfect gentleman. He bought you flowers, he opened doors for you, he gave the sweetest goodnight kisses, he ate you out so good he had you seeing stars. You had the biggest, fattest crush on him, and you would be embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the fact that it seemed, at least for the most part, to be reciprocated.

The problem was Kirishima never let you touch him.

Whenever the two of you ended up in bed together, with the door firmly locked behind you, Kirishima insisted on sliding under the blankets and eating you out so enthusiastically he had your legs shaking in no time. It’s not like you would ever complain about that, but it definitely bothered you that he was never up for doing anything else. You would see the blanket shifting around as he jerked himself off furiously under the sheets as he tongue-fucked you, but whenever you tried to coax him out from beneath the sheets you were turned down with a soft, apologetic little smile.

You figured it must have something to do with his apparent commitment issues. Everytime you brought up the possibility of being a couple, or anything more than what you currently were (which, tragically, was nothing; just two friends occasionally getting hot and heavy) he brushed you off or changed the subject with a beautifully sunny smile and a laugh, so bright and cheery that you were successfully diverted every single time.

And it was fine, really. You liked Kirishima a lot, so you were totally willing to put up with a few odd idiosyncrasies. And okay, sure, if you were being totally honest with yourself, of course you wanted to be more than friends that flirt and kiss and mess around a bit. You couldn’t even technically call each other fuck buddies because he wouldn’t fuck you. But he was so sweet, and so handsome and kind and his tongue was so so good, that you would take whatever you could get from him. 

At least, that was until one afternoon.

April had brought with it blue skies and sun showers and warm breezes, and as the weather begins to improve your friends take to lounging out the front of the apartment complex. After graduating, renting places in the same neighbourhood just seemed like the next logical step. On days like this, where you all come together just to chill out in front of the complex, it seems like the best idea in the world. As you watch Kirishima chase Kaminari around the lawn, the two of them howling with laughter, something a little wistful twists in your stomach. It’s a familiar feeling, easy enough to shove away normally, but today for some reason you just feel… melancholy.

Maybe that’s why you do something you would never normally do. You turn to Bakugou, who’s aggressively chewing on candy as though it insulted his mother, and say, “Hey, um. Does Kirishima… does Kirishima ever talk about me?”

Bakugou’s jaw stills, and he turns his head very slowly to look at you. He looks mildly disbelieving, which is understandable. The two of you get along just fine, but you’ve never asked him anything personal before. “Why the fuck are you asking me that?” he demands through a mouthful of half-chewed toffee.

You shrug jerkily, suddenly mortified. Why are you asking something like that of Bakugou, of all people? “Never mind.” you say quickly, praying that he’ll just let it go and you can both move on and forget that you had ever asked such an embarrassing question.

A silence stretches between the two of you, long and taut, broken only by Mina giggling as she shows Sero something on her phone a few metres away. You could curse yourself for making things awkward between the two of you when you had been on relatively good terms, but then Bakugou turns to look at you so abruptly that you startle a little. “Look,” he says, jaw working absently as he chews his candy. “He likes you just fine, okay. Why aren’t you having this conversation with him, huh?”

You can’t quite meet Bakugou’s eyes. You don’t know how he can be so forthright all the time. “Um. I’ve tried, but he always changes the subject.”

Bakugou swears softly, glaring out across the lawn at Kirishima as he chases Kaminari, throwing grapes at his back. “I ain’t a relationship counsellor, okay? I get that it must be hard that he doesn’t cum when he’s with you or whatever, but you seriously need to work that out with him. What am I meant to do about it?”

“Right,” you wince, your body hot with embarrassment. Your mind sticks on something he just said though, and you turn back slowly to frown at him. “He… he doesn’t cum?”

“Hah?” Bakugou scowls at you, clearly annoyed that you’re still having this conversation. You’re not about to let up though, because you hadn’t known that.

“I-I didn’t realise that he didn’t-?” you trail off, mortified and horrified in equal measures. You had assumed all those times that he was jerking off under the sheets that he was getting himself off but just didn’t want you to see. You had never questioned the lack of mess because as soon as you were done he always left for the bathroom, returning a few minutes later with damp towels to clean you up with -- you had assumed he cleaned himself up in those moments of absence. How the fuck had you never noticed?  Why did Bakugou know when you didn’t? Oh god, had he and Kirishima talked about this?

Bakugou’s expression shifts as he apparently realises that he had just revealed something you hadn’t been aware of. “Oh.” he says, and his annoyance seems to have evaporated, only to be replaced by an intense discomfort. “Well. It’s not that big a deal, or whatever. I’m sure he still, uh, enjoys himself- fucking hell, can we stop talking about this?”

“Yeah.” you say a little numbly. You feel so stupid. Why had he never said anything to you? You had been under the assumption that he liked you back, but maybe you were totally mistaken. Maybe seeing your naked body turned him off to the point that he couldn’t actually cum even if hidden under the sheets and not looking at you. Maybe he never actually wanted to do any of that with you in the first place. There’s a stinging pressure building in the back of your eyes, and you have to look down at your lap and blink hard to stop yourself from doing something stupid like bursting into tears in front of Bakgou -- you don’t think either of you would live that down. “Uh. I think I’m gonna head up to my room, I’m really tired.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened a little, “Wait, are you-”

“I’ll see you later,” you smile and try to keep your voice as normal as possible, but even you can hear how forced you sound. You stand quickly and brush yourself off before heading back inside; you have to consciously slow your pace so that it doesn’t look like you’re running away, because you really don’t put it past Bakugou not to chase you down for cutting him off like that.

You bump into Jirou on the stairs and babble out an apology, escaping back upstairs to your apartment before she can ask you if you’re okay. The last thing you need is an audience for your imminent breakdown, but thankfully you don’t see a single other person on the way to your place. You shut the door to your room tight and lean your forehead against it to take a deep breath. It doesn’t do much to calm you down, so you turn and make a beeline straight for the bed. Throwing yourself dramatically on top of your bed covers feels a little cathartic, so you allow yourself the luxury of being dramatic as you bury your face into your arms and sigh. 

God, you wish Kirishima would have just talked to you instead of grinning that stupidly bright smile of his and changing the subject anytime you tried to talk or ask about the thing the two of you had together. At least then you would have been able to deal with any upset that may have been caused by that conversation by yourself, and you wouldn’t have had to get all upset in front of one of Kirishima’s best friends. God, how were you ever gonna look at Bakugou again?

You know that stewing by yourself like this isn’t going to help sort this situation out, but you just can’t find the energy to start thinking about what you’re going to do next. You don’t want to start thinking about that at all. You just need some time to yourself, just a little while to relax and breathe and just not think because if you start thinking you’re pretty sure you’re going to cry. You feel impossibly stupid.

When you hear a knock coming from the door, you want to bang your head off the wall. You can’t imagine anything worse than having to talk to someone and pretend that everything is fine right now.

“Y/N? Hey, is everything alright? Bakugou said you ran off.”

Aw, shit. Maybe you can imagine something worse.

You sit up sharply, staring at the door. This was so typical. Of all the people in the building, Kirishima is the last person you want to talk to right now. So of course it stands to reason that he would be the one to follow you straight to your apartment. “Everything’s fine,” you call back quickly, trying hard to sound like you meant it, “Hey, I’m just tired right now. Can we talk later?”

“Bakugou said you were upset.”

That traitor. You clench your jaw and scowl at the wall. “I’m-”

“I’m coming in, okay?”

“Wha-?” you stand up quickly, but Kirishima is already coming in and closing the door behind him. “Kirishima, I don’t-”

“Okay look, Bakugou said you were upset with me and I’m really, really sorry,” Kirishima blurts quickly, hands up in the air as if he’s being held at gunpoint, “He’s actually pretty annoyed at me right now, but he’s right, and-”

“I’m not-” you start, then pause to gather your thoughts. Bakugou was right, especially when he said you had to talk. And it was important this time that you didn’t let Kirishima divert you like he had been doing. “It’s not that I’m upset with you. Not really. I just- what are we even doing?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, so softly that it’s almost a whisper.

“I-” you swallow hard, brace yourself, “I really like you. I like spending time with you, and I’ve told you, or at least tried to, that I’d really like to, well, be- um, be more than whatever this is. And obviously I would totally get if you don’t want that, a relationship and stuff, but I want you to just tell me! Just say it, instead of changing the subject.”

“Wait, baby, please.” Kirishima steps forward quickly and stops just short of touching you, a bare few inches between you. “I like you so much, I never wanted you to feel this way. I just- it’s difficult to explain-”

“Do you...” you start to say, then sigh. You can’t believe you’re actually going to ask this, because it makes you sound so desperate, but you really need to hear him say it, “Do you not find me attractive?”

Kirishima makes a startled choking sound, “Wha-? Are you kidding? I find you so attractive! You’re so pretty, and your body is- is really nice, why would you think-”

“You never look at me when we’re in bed and-” you start fidgeting, horribly awkward. “I just want to be able to touch you.”

Kirishima steps forward, closing the distance between you and dropping to one knee. “Baby, I’ll do whatever you want,” he says, his hands coming to rest on your hips as his thumbs stroke circles into your skin. “You want me to touch you?”

“No.” you squeeze your eyes shut in frustration, realising that he had misunderstood. “I mean. Bakugou told me that you never cum when we’re together.”

When you open your eyes again, you see that Kirishima has gone stock still. His mouth is a little open, and you can see his throat working as he seems to fight for something to say. Very slowly, he gets back to his feet. “He shouldn’t have said that.”

You stare at him, at a loss. “Is it because-” you start, then trail off as you realise that you don’t even know what you’re trying to ask. You just want him to start talking so that you can stop asking all these stupid questions. “If you don’t want to have sex with me, you only have to say so, I would never pressure you into-”

“No!” Kirishima blurts, jolting forward. The suddenness of the movement seems to startle the both of you, but Kirishima recovers faster. “God, no, that’s not what this is!”

“Then, why?” you whisper, thoroughly confused. You had hoped that talking it out would help get some answers, but if anything you’re even more confused and insecure than you had been before he came to your room. “Did I- I mean, if I’m doing something that’s-”

“It’s not you.” Kirishima interrupts, covering his eyes with one of his large palms and leaning away from you. His hand is trembling a little, almost imperceptibly. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

The statement hangs in the air between the two of you like it’s a tangible presence. You stare hard at Kirishima, but he doesn’t remove his hand from his face. He looks a bit like he’s going to be sick. “What do you mean?” you ask quietly.

You’re guessing that this is where you get the ‘You’re great and all but I’m just not ready for a relationship. It’s got nothing to do with you though, I need to work through my own stuff’ sort of speech, and you have to brace yourself for it. Instead, Kirishima says something that you had not prepared yourself to hear in the slightest.

“I’m sorry.” you say, a little bewildered. You’re certain that you heard that wrong. “Could you- could you say that again?”

A flush has begun to crawl steadily across Kirishima’s face, made all the more prominent by the contrast of his hand pressed to his eyes. His ears are so red that they blend right into his hair. “I said,” he says, then takes an inhale, “That you’ll break up with me if you see my dick.”

You don’t actually know how to begin replying to that. For one, breaking up would require you to be in a relationship, which is something that he has been avoiding for a while now. You decide to address the bigger problem first. “Why would I want to break up because of your dick? Why would you even think that? Do you think I’m that shallow?”

“It’s got nothing to do with you being shallow,” Kirishima says slowly. You get the impression that he’s measuring his words, and his uncharacteristic reticence has you on edge. “It’s just that- I’m not, well, normal.”

You stare at him, a little taken aback. Kirishima had always had some issues with self-confidence, ever since middle school, but you’d always thought he’d worked through that in UA. You had never heard him talk about himself like this. “What’s that supposed to mean? Eijirou, lots of people are self-conscious about what they have going on downstairs. It doesn’t mean-”

“No, you don’t get it,” he interrupts. His hands have started twisting up the hem of his shirt, wringing it out and wrinkling the material. He’s frowning, and clearly starting to get agitated. “It’s not that I’m self-conscious about it- well, I am self-conscious about it, I guess, but it’s for a reason! I mean it, it’s not exactly… standard.”

Your face scrunches up in a frown before you can stop it. Not standard? “You’re worried it’s too small?” You guess. Your gaze drops to the crotch of his pants, where he’s subconsciously folded his hands. “Too big?”

“Um.” Kirishima lets out a nervous little laugh, several octaves higher than normal. “Yeah, I guess. It’s… it looks weird.”

“Eijirou,” your voice is soft now, most of your frustration melted away by the sight of Kirishima’s anxious fidgeting, “We live in a world where physical mutations are the norm; you really don’t have anything to worry about.” You pause for a moment, but Kirishima doesn’t respond immediately. The silence builds, until you try to break it with a light-hearted, “How weird can it be, really?”

Kirishima’s throat works as he swallows hard, but he’s nodding so you at least know that he’s listening. When he does speak, his voice is so low that you have to lean closer to him to catch what he’s saying. “I just don’t want to ruin this.”

Your heart twists, and the last of your frustration straight up disappears. You take a breath to steady yourself, then step forward and place your hands gently on his chest. A tremor works its way up his spine at your touch, but you don’t remark on it. “Kirishima.” you say firmly, and when he looks up and makes eye contact you try to keep your gaze as strict as possible. “You really have no idea how much I like you, do you? God, I like you so much, it’s stupid. I’ve wanted to be with you for so long. I mean, even if you never wanted to have sex I would understand, so long as you talked to me about it. Your dick is not gonna stop me from liking you, idiot.”

The fear of rejection is still plain to see on Kirishima’s face, but there’s something lurking just underneath that looks like hope. “I’ve never… I’ve never been with anyone like that.”

“You haven’t?” you ask, genuinely surprised. Not only is Kirishima perfectly sweet, he’s also extremely attractive. As an up-and-coming sidekick in Fatgum’s hero agency, you knew that he had no shortage of admirers. Even before that, in UA, you knew there were always people who had their eyes on him. He was so bright, he was hard to miss. 

He laughs, scrubbing at his eyes with his knuckles. “Uh, no. I mean, I’m not totally inexperienced. I mean, I’ve done oral and stuff, and I think I’m actually pretty good at it-”

“You are definitely pretty good at it,” you chime in, nodding and trying not to laugh at the flush crawling up his neck.

“I enjoy it, too!” he says quickly, as though trying to reassure you, “I enjoy it a lot. But I’ve never- I mean, no one’s ever touched me like that.” You feel your mouth drop open in honest shock. A little part of you couldn’t help but feel reassured that it wasn’t you he had a problem with, but that was mostly drowned out by surprise. Kirishima rushes on before you can speak, as though trying to say his piece before he runs out of steam, “It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s just that it’s never seemed worth the fallout. Especially with you. I’m happy with being with you in whatever way I can, and I don’t want my stupid dick to scare you off or-”

“Oh my god, Kirishima, stop,” you say, and this time you really can’t hold back your laugh. “Your stupid dick isn’t going to scare me off. God, I can’t believe this is why you never let me touch you.” you step closer and press a soft, close-mouthed kiss to his lips. You hadn’t realised just how tense Kirishima was until he relaxed a little into your touch, the stiffness in his shoulders easing out as he sighed into the kiss. You pull back just a little, just enough that you can give him a cheeky smile. “Want me to give you your first blowjob?”

Kirishima’s whole body tenses right back up as his eyes shoot wide in surprise. “What?” he squeaks out, his ears turning scarlet.

You take his hand in yours and tangle your fingers together, before tugging him gently towards the bed. “I want to,” you assure him quietly, “No matter what your dick looks like, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Kirishima says as he sits at the edge of the bed. He’s breathing a little faster now, either from excitement or nerves. You’re guessing it’s a bit of both, because he’s clinging on tight to your hand even though he looks like he’s about to bolt. When you hook your fingers around the waistband of his shorts, he catches one of your wrists with his free hand. “If you- you know, if you change your mind after seeing it, just know that I won’t be mad or anything.”

He’s so quiet and earnest that you feel your heart melt a little looking at his nervously hopeful eyes. You take your hand back and climb onto his lap, pushing your fingers into his wild mop of hair. It’s the first time you’ve ever been close with him like this -- usually he would give you a sweet, gentle kiss and then dive between your legs, always keeping a frustrating amount of distance between your lower halves. This time though, he doesn’t try to divert you away. His hands grip your hips tight, and he leans his head into your touch. “I wish you would stop expecting me to push you away.” you murmur into the side of his neck, peppering little kisses into his skin. Kirishima lets out the smallest, choked off sounding whine at that, and tilts his head so that the long line of his throat is exposed. You take the hint, and start trailing kisses all along the soft skin at the base of his neck. “I told you, and I meant it; I want to be with you.”

Strong arms wind their way around your back and pull you close until you’re sat right over Kirishima’s crotch. You don’t even think it was intentional on Kirishima’s part, but you won’t pass up the opportunity when it presents itself to you. His shorts are bulging a little right in the centre where he’s starting to get hard, and you lower yourself down so that you’re grinding over him. He gasps at the contact, and his hips jerk up into you. “Oh, shit. I want you, so badly.” he gasps, his forehead dropping down to rest on your shoulder.

You have to admit, what you can feel through his shorts is… intimidating. ‘Yeah, I guess,’ he had said when you asked him if he was worried about his dick being too big. Judging by what you could feel pressing against you, that was a massive understatement, and he was only half-hard. You ghost your hands down over his sides, feeling his ribs expand with his breaths, sliding down until your hands reach the waistband of his shorts again. You push them down over his hips, and he lifts himself up to help you, and then he’s just in his impressively tented jockstrap. You smile reassuringly at him as you tug down the jockstrap, and then his cock springs free of the waistband and you pause.

“Oh.” you breathe.

“I know that it’s-” Kirishima begins to visibly panic, his hand reflexively shooting down to try and cover himself as he tries to sit up.

“It’s okay.” you say quickly, recovering from your surprise as quickly as possible. You still feel a little off-kilter as you slide off his lap to your knees in front of him. You know that you’re staring at his cock wide-eyed, but you can’t quite help yourself. It’s… well. It’s definitely not standard.

You reach out, your hand hovering uncertainly over his cock because you barely know how to begin. It’s thicker than a soda can, and long. Delicate ridges and swirls decorate the underside, with a series of bumps along the top. When you finally do grasp him in your hand, you’re rewarded with a barely stifled gasp and a hot spurt of precum that dribbles down his cockhead to your fingers. You use both your hands to explore his length, fingers trailing over all those strange ridges. The bumps along the top are apparently sensitive, because when you rub your thumbs over them Kirishima gasps and his hips thrust gracelessly into the air.

“Sorry!” he blurts as his cock dribbles even more precum. There’s so much of it that it looks like you actually used lube or something to slick up his cock, but you guess that this must be normal for him because he just looks embarrassed. “I- it’s sensitive, I guess, um- I usually put down a towel, because I tend to get, uh, messy.”

The way he says that and the connotations of it has your thighs squeezing together, and you take a deep inhale through your nose. It’s unexpectedly hot. “Gotcha.” you smile at him, trying to put him at ease as you return your attention back to his dick. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind if you make a mess.”

“Oh, shit. Uh, okay.” Kirishima says, and his breathing has gotten noticeably heavier now. He’s almost panting as he leans back on his elbows, craning his neck so he can get a look at what you’re doing. There’s a curious swell around the base of his cock that just seems to be growing. One of your hands travels down to it curiously, splaying over it and then rubbing it at it experimentally. His hips rock forward sharply, a huff of breath leaving him as he grunts a muted, “Fuck!”

The precum is oozing almost continuously now, spilling over with nearly every stroke, and your rubbing at the swollen base seems to be pushing even more out. It’s obscene, the copious amount of it and the way it’s stringing down onto your hands. If this is the amount of precum he produces, you can hardly imagine the amount of cum he’s going to produce. You wonder if ‘messy’ is another understatement.

You finally lean forward and lick an experimental stripe up the underside of his cock, lapping at the ridges and swirls. The moan that’s ripped out of him is needy and so desperate -- his stomach muscles are tensed with the effort he’s putting in to keep from rocking into your mouth, but his cheeks are flushed and his own mouth is lolling open, his eyes squeezed shut. You take that as your cue to take all of him in your mouth as best as you can, suckling at the tip before swallowing him down. You get about halfway before you have to pull back and try again. Your mouth is stretched obscenely wide around the girth of him, and you swear you can feel the weight of his dick pulsing on your tongue.

“Oh god, oh baby, oh Y/N,” Kirishima is babbling nonsensically, his head thrown as his hips make the sweetest little aborted rocking motions, like he wants nothing more than to let go but is trying his best to restrain himself for your sake. “Feels so good.”

You suck him as best as you can, but your jaw is starting to ache from being hinged so wide. You alternate between stroking his length and suckling on the head of his dick, tracing the swirls and squeezing the bottom. The swell at the base of his cock has engorged even further, and you prod at it curiously with one hand as you work his length with the other. It’s firm but oddly spongey, and everytime you poke at it Kirishima’s whole cock twitches.

When he gasps out your name you pull back and look up at him. He’s trembling, his shirt rucked up past his bellybutton and his gaze fixed unwaveringly on you. “You okay?” you ask softly, rubbing your thumb along one of the ridges under the head of his dick.

“Yeah,” he breathes, reaching down to cup your face. His thumb swipes over your bottom lip, and you realise that a string of saliva and precum is dripping down your chin. “But if you keep going I’m gonna cum.”

“Isn’t that kind of the point?” you laugh, and press a kiss right on his slit. His hips twitch and you dodge backwards just in time to avoid him taking your eye out with his hard on. 

“Sorry!” he looks mortified, and you can’t help but find his nervous fumbling absolutely adorable.

“Don’t worry about it.” you smile as you kiss your way down his shaft, prepared now for the intermittent jerking of his hips. You get to that swollen part at the base and place your mouth right at the bottom of his cock, before wrapping your lips around it to the best of your ability and sucking.

You had guessed that this swollen area was sensitive thanks to his reactions earlier, but you’re not quite prepared for the shout he lets out or the way his hand grabs onto the side of your head as he damn near rides your mouth. You’re totally startled by the reaction, but given the amount of times that you’ve done the same to his mouth you’re only too happy to indulge him. Plus, it’s the first time you’ve ever seen Kirishima fall apart like this. His cock is dribbling precum at a rapid rate the more excited he gets, and thick strings of it are pouring onto your cheeks. You think you should probably feel a little grossed out, but seeing Kirishima open-mouthed and panting as he rides your face like he’s hasn’t got a single other thought in his mind has you so turned on that your panties are getting sticky and uncomfortable between your legs. You stick your own hand between your legs to try and relieve yourself of some of the heat coiling up in your stomach, but the way that Kirishima’s rutting into your face throws off your coordination.

“Oh god, please, baby, please, put it back in your mouth, I’m gonna- fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna cum, please-” He begs, his head thrown back as he gasps.

How could you ever deny him when he pleads like that? You pull your head out of his grasp and sink your mouth back down on his cock, and then you just hold there and breathe as steadily as you can as Kirishima’s cock throbs in your mouth. His hips spasm, pushing his cock further into your throat. It almost feels like he’s getting bigger, as if he’s growing down your throat.

Kirishima is still babbling, a steady stream of senselessness about how good you’re making him feel, how beautiful you are, how lucky he is, until he cuts himself off with a gasp of “Baby, I’m- I’m-” and then he’s silent, his mouth hanging open as his whole body strains.

You try to suck him through his orgasm, but you are utterly unprepared for the sheer quantity of cum that erupts from his dick. Despite your intentions, you have no choice but to pull off his cock, choking a little on the cum that actually managed to get up your nose. You stroke him through it, feeling dazed as you watch him cum. You know it’s dripping from your chin, running in rivulets down your face. You wonder if it’s coming out your nose.

Kirishima seems to come forever, humping into your fist and whining and moaning the whole time. When his cock finally gives its last, exhausted spurt, his body falls limp against the bed. He’s gasping for breath and staring at the ceiling, looking like his soul had been ejected from his body along with the insane amount of cum. You notice the swollen part at the base of his cock has deflated almost entirely, to the point that it’s hardly noticeable anymore.

You climb up on the bed beside him and nudge him with your knee, a little concerned. “Eijirou? You good?”

When he looks at you, there’s a goofy smile splitting his face. “I have never been so good in my whole life.” His smile freezes as he catches a proper look at your face, caught between surprise, embarrassment, and something else. He reaches out to your face and swipes his fingers through the mess on your face. “Oh god, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t be!” you hasten to assure him, squeezing his wrists. “It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen!”

Kirishima stares at you as though he almost doesn’t believe you, but his cum is painted across your face and dripping down your chest, so he’s not in the best position to argue. “I told you I tend to get messy.” he breathes out a laugh, and then leans forward to kiss you, apparently not caring about the taste of his own ejaculate.

You hum into his mouth, your thighs clenching in excitement. “Eijirou,” you whisper into the kiss. When he pulls back, you bite your lip and smile at him, “Next time, will you fuck me?”

Kirishima inhales sharply, and his grip on your hips tightens to the point that the pressure is near bruising. “You really want that?”

“God, yes.” you blurt, shifting so that you’re straddling his stomach. You lower yourself down so that you’re grinding against his bare skin, and you can see the exact moment that he realises you’ve soaked through your panties.

He groans, and pulls at your hips to encourage you to grind against his stomach harder. “Shit, sweetheart. You don’t think it’s… kind of gross?”

“I didn’t expect the amount of cum,” you confess, wiping at your face with a helpless laugh, “But no, I don’t think it’s gross. I like it.” You whimper as Kirishima’s thumb slides over your swollen clit, the glide made smooth thanks to the slickness of your own arousal.

Kirishima is looking up at you as though you had hung the moon, and it’s hard not to get a little embarrassed under the intensity of his gaze. “Okay,” he whispers, “If you’re sure.” He glances down with a small frown, his lips twisted thoughtfully, “I don’t want to hurt you, though.”

“You won’t.” you kiss his nose, grinning as it wrinkles up under your lips. “We’ll make sure I’m stretched.” you glance over your shoulder at his still wet, softening cock. Even now, the size of it is intimidating. “And lube,” you conclude, “We’ll use lots and lots of lube.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, a smile starting to light up his face. He presses a sloppy kiss to the base of your throat, and you can feel the smile against your skin, “Yeah, okay. I’d really like that.” There’s still cum everywhere, all over your hands and chest and face and splashed across Kirishima’s legs and stomach, but he doesn’t seem to care about the mess in the slightest as he rolls the two of you over so that he’s hovering over you. The kiss he presses to one of your breasts is impossibly soft, and you tilt your head back and sigh as you feel his fingers trace over the lips of your pussy. “I’m so lucky to have you.” he whispers, then pushes himself down your body.

As his tongue flicks over your clit, you smile. It’s definitely you that’s the lucky one here.

_________________________

Kirishima’s complicated relationship with his genitalia had started in middle school. Up until that point, he had managed to remain blissfully unaware that there was any kind of abnormality in his nether regions. That changed one day in the locker rooms.

Having never paid any particular attention to what he had in his pants, Kirishima hadn’t thought anything of changing out with the rest of the boys in his class, as unabashed as any middle-schooler that hadn’t developed a sense of self-consciousness yet. He didn’t notice the whispers or stares until one of his friends nudged him hard. “Dude,” he said, glancing between Kirishima’s legs and then away, curiosity and mild revulsion mingled on his face, “What’s wrong with your thingy?”

“Wrong?” Kirishima had echoed, discomfort beginning to prickle beneath his skin. He hadn’t realised there was anything wrong with his genitals. He covered up quickly and finished getting changed, but the stares lingered.

No one said anything more about it to him, but by the end of the day rumour had spread that Kirishima was weird down there.

He had, like so many boys his age, taken to the internet to do his own research. It felt like a punch to the gut when he realised that his classmates were right -- his dick looked nothing like the dicks that all the guys in the videos he found had. There were exceptions, where the person’s genitals were affected by their quirk, but they were always full-body quirks that made it pretty obvious that what you were gonna find down below would be non-standard. His genitals didn’t match his body or his quirk, so his classmates must be right when they say that he’s weird with those grossed-out little laughs.

He learned pretty quickly to keep that part of him to himself, to change out quickly and efficiently in such a way that no one would ever see the parts of him that he’d rather keep hidden. He welcomes physical contact because he’s still an affectionate guy, but he’s always careful about the distance he allows between himself and others just in case they brush up against him accidentally and somehow feel that he’s different. When the boys in his class start excitedly talking about girls and other boys, and how nice it’d be to have a girlfriend or boyfriend, Kirishima tries to stay out of it. He doesn’t want to wonder about something like that when he knows that if someone were to find out his secret they’d be totally grossed out.

High school comes hand in hand with experimentation though, and Kirishima is lonely and touch-starved. He doesn’t want to avoid touch for the rest of his life out of fear that someone’s going to know. So he allows himself to indulge a little; he’s popular with girls in UA, a fact that surprises him. Unlike the girls in middle school, they haven’t heard the rumours that there’s something wrong with him, so they smile and chat to him and even flirt. It’s exciting and new and he allows himself to have just this -- he kisses them and he makes them feel good, and then he retreats when they look for more because he just can’t give it to them. 

When he tells you all this, you could swear that you feel your heart crack right down the middle. You hadn’t realised how lonely Kirishima was, wrapped up in a self-constructed blanket of self-loathing and disgust. You knew it had taken a lot of trust for him to open up to you like he had, but you hadn’t realised just how much. It makes your chest fill with some undefinable emotion, and you just want to hold him and never let go. 

You’re more determined than ever now to show him exactly how much you care about him, and exactly how much any physical anomaly doesn’t affect the way you feel in the slightest. You’ve been stretching yourself methodically and carefully every night of the week that has passed since you gave him his first blowjob in preparation to finally have sex with him. You just want him to feel good, and you don’t want him to worry about hurting you. And now, tonight, you’ve decided that you’re ready for it.

Bakugou’s the one that answers the door when you knock at their shared apartment, and his face does something funny when he sees you. He lets you in without a greeting, and yells for Kirishima as you shut the door behind you. It’s definitely a little awkward, because your last proper conversation was that day when he told you that your now boyfriend didn’t get off when you were together, but you smile and ask him how he’s doing all the same.

He just grunts at you and sprawls out on the couch, his attention fixed on his phone. You don’t try to make any further conversation, because you figure he probably won’t respond and you can hear Kirishima crashing around further down the hall anyway. You’re about to slip down the hall towards Kirishima’s room when Bakugou speaks again, surprising you. “You talked.”

You pause, confused for half a moment before the memories of your last conversation come flooding back. “Oh. Uh, yeah, we did.” 

Bakugou nods, still staring at his phone. You hover uncertainly, unsure of whether you should continue to Kirishima’s room or if Bakugou had something else he wanted to say. You don’t have to wait long; Bakugou puts his phone down and turns to survey you closely. “If you’re still here, then I guess you didn’t freak out.”

“There’s nothing to freak out over.” you say defensively, thinking of how sensitive Kirishima is about his body.

“I never said there was!” Bakugou snaps back instantly. You both glare at each other, but you don’t respond further. You came here for one reason, and that reason was not to start a fight with Bakugou when your boyfriend was waiting for you in the bedroom. When Bakugou speaks again, it’s with an awkward edge to his voice. “Whatever. Just don’t be an asshole to him.”

You realise that Bakugou is just trying to look out for his friend, and the revelation that you’re receiving Bakugou’s awkward attempt at a shovel talk is enough to have you reeling. “As if I would be,” you say, “I really like him.”

“Good. Fine.” Bakugou picks his phone back up and you take that as a dismissal. You’re just about to leave when he says, “By the way, keep it the fuck down. I don’t care if you’re taking dragon dick or if it’s Shitty Hair’s first time getting his dick wet, I don’t need to hear that nasty shit.”

His crudeness has you flushing hot with embarrassment, but you don’t dignify him with a response. You slip down the hall and up to Kirishima’s bedroom, knocking softly on the door before letting yourself in.

Kirishima is in the process of trying to stuff a pile of clothes into the bottom of his wardrobe, and he slams the door shut and whirls around when he hears you come in. “Hey!” he beams at you, trying to kick aside the pair of underwear that’s stuck in the edge of the wardrobe door.

“Hey, you.” you greet him. You’re still a bit flustered from Bakugou’s comment, but you hide it as best as you can as Kirishima sweeps you up in his arms and pulls you into a sweet, close-mouthed kiss.

In the week since you blew him the first time, the two of you have alternated between your apartments and spent almost every single day together. Some days you just touched each other with your hands, other days you used your mouths on each other. You still hadn’t gotten fully used to his enormous loads of cum, but he seems at least to be getting more and more comfortable with your touch. Even now, his hands trail up your sides as he presses eagerly into you; this boldness would have been unheard of coming from him only a week ago, but neither of you are under any illusions about what the two of you are going to get up to this evening.

You wind your arms around his neck and melt into the kiss, relishing the contact and the wet slide of his lips against yours. As his hands trail from your hips to your lower back to your ass, you feel the hard press of his lower abdomen nudge against you. You pull back and grin at him, “Someone’s impatient.”

Kirishima flushes, but he doesn’t pull away or deny it. Progress. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” he confesses quietly, reaching up to nudge a flyaway tuft of hair out of your eyes.

“Yeah?” you grin, delighting in his openness. You take a small step back and look down at where his bulge is tenting the front of his sweatpants. “How long have you been like this, baby?”

“Pretty much since you texted me telling me you were thinking of coming over.” he says with a cheeky little smile, nudging his face into your neck and nipping at the skin there. “So, an hour and a half? Give or take.”

You hum as you cup his hardness through the cotton of his joggers. He groans and his hips jerk into your palm, as sensitive as ever. “Hey,” you murmur, “Wanna fuck me?”

Kirishima’s whole body twitches at that, and you swear you can feel his cock jump in his hand. “Now?” he asks, his voice gone a little hoarse from surprise and arousal.

“Unless you’d like to wait?”

“No! Now is good!” Kirishima says hastily, reaching out to hold your hips as though he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “God, now is so good.”

It’s really hard to hold back your laugh as you watch him scramble towards the bed, tugging you along with him. He’s excited, that much is obvious, and you really can’t blame him -- he’s gone so long thinking that he would never get to have this, that he would never be accepted like this. You want to give him everything.

His hands start fidgeting with the sheets as soon as he sits back on the bed. You straddle his lap and take his hands in yours before leaning in for a kiss, hoping to distract him from any nerves or self-doubts before they can take a hold of him. He hums happily into your mouth, squeezing one of your hands in his and using the other one to wrap around your waist and pull you closer.

“I’ve thought about sex with you so many times,” you admit when you pull away from the kiss. You reach up and stroke a line down the bridge of his nose, then push back a lock of his hair; it’s freshly washed and ungelled, lying fluffy and loose around his face. He’s looking up at you like you just hung the moon, open-mouthed and soft-eyed. It’s such a sweet look on him, and you love watching it contort into pleasure as you sink down to rub yourself against his hard on. “I want you to feel good.”

Kirishima makes a choked off whining sound in his throat as he grinds up into you. “You always make me feel good.” he says. You can feel his cock thickening and filling out against you, and judging by how clearly you can feel him, he’s foregone the usual jockstrap or protective cup he uses to try and hide his shape in his pants. 

You reach down and pull at his sweatpants -- you manage to get one leg off entirely, but the other gets stuck halfway down his left thigh and you’re too impatient to keep pulling at it so you just abandon it in favour of reaching for Kirishima’s now exposed cock. You’ve gotten familiar with the thick ridges and bumps of it over the past week, familiar enough for your fingers to seek out his sensitive spots without even looking.

He moans as you touch him, and dips his hands into your pants so that he can squeeze at your ass. His grip is a little too hard, bordering on painful as he bites at your neck. He pops open the button on your pants and shoves one of his hands into your panties, rubbing at your clit with his thumb and trailing his other fingers along your slit. 

You rub at the bumps along the tip of his cock, and you’re rewarded with a little squirt of precum. It dribbles down your hand and onto the sheets, and you wonder if maybe you should put down some towels to try and keep the mess contained. But Kirishima is letting out the softest little moans as he tries to rut into your hand and rub at your clit at the same time, and you decide that ruining the moment to lay down towels just isn’t worth it. A little mess is a small sacrifice to make.

When his fingers finally dip inside you, you feel his whole body tense up and still. “Baby,” he says, his voice soft and a little stunned, “You..”

“I stretched myself out before I came over,” you finish for him, pushing your hips back so that his fingers sink all the way inside of you. The lube still inside of you makes the slide effortless, and the look on Kirishima’s face is absolutely priceless. “I’m ready when you are.”

Those words elicit another little spurt of precum as Kirishima’s cock twitches in your hand. When you glance down, you see that the base of his dick is engorged and painful looking, and it only seems to be swelling. You only get to look for a moment though, because then you’re being flipped on your back and Kirishima is looming over you. “Oh, baby, oh shit,” he grits out through clenched teeth as his cock rubs up against the back of your thighs. “Are you sure you want to?”

“I want to, I want to so bad,” you promise him, kissing where you can reach on his face. You reach down and grip his cock, guiding it to your entrance, “Go slow, baby.” You’re so excited when you first feel the tip of his cock press into you that you’re not sure if the gush of wetness is from your pussy or his precum. You’re so turned on that you wonder if the amount of lube you had used was overkill, but then the length of him starts to stretch you out and you decide that yes, you absolutely did need that lube.

As soon as the tip is in, Kirishima stills over you. His head drops down, forehead making contact with your shoulder as he groans. You rock your hips experimentally, your breathing gone a little ragged as you realise that you can feel all those fleshy bumps and ridges, but Kirishima snatches at your hips instantly to still you. When he speaks, his voice is strained, “I’m not gonna last.”

Affection bubbles up in your chest as you look at his flushed face, his misty eyes. He’s practically trembling from the effort of holding back. “It’s okay,” you assure him, looping your arms over his shoulders and tracing little patterns into the skin of his back, “You don’t have to, it’s your first time. We have all the time in the world to go again and again, as many times as you want.”

Kirishima makes a garbled little noise in the back of his throat, and then he’s kissing you so sloppily and enthusiastically that drool begins to slip down your chins. It’s a little gross, but considering how much cum you’re going to be covered in soon enough you can’t be too fussy. When he pulls back, it’s so that he can look down and watch where his cock is entering you in increments.

The slow, inexorable stretch of it has your breath catching in your throat. You throw your head back on the bed and focus on keeping your breathing as steady as possible as he presses into you so, so slowly. After exploring the length of him with your mouth and hands, you knew he was big, but apparently knowing and feeling are two completely separate things. You feel like you’re being stretched impossibly wide, and when you glance down you see that he’s not even halfway in. 

Kirishima pauses suddenly, his breathing coming in short pants. You think that he’s just taking a moment to collect himself, to pace himself, but he’s frowning down at where the two of you are connected. “I dont- I don’t think I’ll fit.”

“Oh, you’ll fit.” you declare, jaw set stubbornly. His dick was already partly in you, and like hell were you giving up now. “Don’t worry. Keep going, Eiji.”

“You’re so…” he groans as he edges his hips forward, rocking his cock another inch inside of you, “So tight, you feel so wet and warm inside, oh god, so good, so good.”

The stretch is starting to sting, but you’ve prepared yourself well for this and it’s not so bad that you can’t breathe through it. When he bottoms out inside you, the tip of his cock hits your cervix and your whole body jerks hard at the dull ache it sends up your spine. “Fuck!” you cry out, your hips humping back into Kirishima’s of their own accord. You can feel every damn ridge and swirl grinding against your insides, and you clamp down hard around him, gasping. “Oh, shit.”

You’ve never felt so full in your life, and Kirishima’s cock doesn’t even fit all the way inside you. You wonder if you’re about to split in two. Your thighs are splayed obscenely wide, and you can feel your own body trying to suck him in further but there’s nowhere else to go because he’s filling you up so completely. Your chest is heaving as you pant for breath -- your thoughts have turned a little muddy, but even now you can see that Kirishima has frozen, his face tucked into your neck as he shudders with deep, panting breaths. Your shoulder feels wet, and you realise that he’s drooling on you.

“Eijirou,” you groan, “Move.”

His first thrust is hesitant, exploratory. He apparently likes what he feels, because he lifts his head up so that he can look at you properly. He looks totally blissed out, his eyes a little unfocused, and his expression alone shoots a bolt of heat straight between your legs. You breathe out a curse and move your hips down and into him, trying to encourage him to fuck you properly. When he thrusts forward again, the movement is accompanied by a vulgar squelching sound, and you realise that you’re probably being filled up with his precum. The thought makes you moan quietly, tightening up around him. 

Kirishima grunts and dives down so that your chests are pressed together, his arms pushing your legs up and to the side, and then suddenly he’s fucking into you for real. His moans sound like they’ve come straight out of a porn video as he shoves his cock as deep inside you as possible before pulling out and doing it again. All you can do is gasp against him as the breath is driven straight out of your lungs by his desperate humping.

His movements are nearly feral, jackhammering into you at a pace that probably should feel punishing but instead has you hiccuping out moans on every stroke. The size of him and the speed at which he’s fucking at you is overwhelming in the best possible way. He keeps gasping your name in between moans, his jaw lolling open as he pants for breath. “Oh, baby girl, you feel so good, so good for me. You like this?”

“Yes!” you wheeze, clinging to his shoulders as he rails you into the mattress. It’s better than you ever could have hoped for, and you’re nearly sobbing from the sheer sensation of it all. “Oh god, don’t stop!” You feel your abdomen drawing tight, heat beginning to build rapidly in the bottom of your belly, and you practically throw yourself down to meet his thrusts. “Please, I’m gonna cum, make me cum, Eiji!”

Kirishima practically snarls at that, his hand snaking down to your pussy even as he keeps rutting into you. His hand finds your clit and starts stroking at it hard and fast at a pace that matches his fucking. “Fuck yes, I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

You know you’re starting to shake apart, his cock and his fingers too much for you. Your body is strung taut, your orgasm so close you can virtually taste it. As he feels you clamp down around him Kirishima lets out a whimpering moan, and with that you’re totally gone, head slamming back on the bed as you let out mindless, breathless little choking moans. It feels like your vision totally wipes out as you convulse in Kirishima’s arms, hips twitching wildly. 

When the euphoria of your orgasm finally subsides, you feel so totally fucked out that you hardly know which way is up. It takes you a moment to become aware of the way Kirishima is humping into you desperately now, hunkering over you and groaning. Feeling his cock slide in and out of your over-sensitive and still twitching pussy is almost too much, and you know you won’t be able to take much more of his relentless pounding. You clench around him as tight as you can and cup his sweaty face in your hands, smiling at the open-mouthed look of pure need he’s giving you. “Are you gonna cum inside me, Eiji?”

Apparently that was the correct thing to say, because you can see the moment that he hurtles completely over the edge. He shoves his cock as deep as he can get inside you and then he’s crying out as he begins to empty himself inside you. He keeps rocking, even though his cock is crammed as far into you as it’s possible to get, and you tremble and gasp as you feel his cum spraying inside you. It feels totally filthy, and there’s so much of it that you can feel it leaking out and down your ass even though Kirishima’s cock is still plugging you up. There’s so much cum that you actually start to wonder if your birth control is going to still be effective. You almost expect it to start coming out of your ears.

It seems like he’s cumming forever, and eventually he has to pull out because you’re just too full. As soon as his gradually softening cock is pulled free, it seems like a veritable bucketload of cum streams out of you and makes a mess of the bedcovers. It’s simultaneously really gross and really, really hot, and you don’t have the energy to unpack that so you just lay back and watch as Kirishima’s cock continues to dribble cum all over his legs and your abdomen. The swollen base of his cock is deflated now, and his dick eventually gives one last twitch and then he’s finished. 

He collapses on top of you, sweaty and soiled with his cum, but you don’t complain as he wraps you up in his arms and kisses your temples, murmuring soft, mindless praise into your hairline. “Are you okay?” he whispers, “Did I hurt you?”

You laugh a little, still winded. Your pussy is feeling achey from being stretched so wide, and you’re definitely going to have trouble walking tomorrow, but it’s the best kind of hurt imaginable. “You did everything just right.” you say, giving him a tired smile. “How was it?”

“If I could stay in your pussy forever, I would.” he says solemnly, the barest hint of a smile pulling at his lips.

You laugh properly at that, and roll over so that you’re lying across his chest. “Yeah? Well, I think you’ve just ruined me for all other cocks in the world. No one's ever gonna compare to how good yours feels.”

With your chin on his chest, you have a clear view of the way he flushes at your words, and the vulnerability that creeps into his expression as he looks at you. “Really?”

“I just came so hard it felt like the world was ending.” you grin at him, then press a teasing kiss to one of his pecs. “Yes, really.”

A smile breaks out on his face, toothy and dorky, as if he can’t believe his luck. “So… Would you want to do it again, maybe? Sometime?”

The smile you return is so wide it feels like it’s about to split your face. “Yeah, Eiji. Without question.”

It’s hard to kiss when you’re both grinning like total idiots, but the two of you make a valiant effort all the same. The ridiculous amount of cum painting the two of you is beginning to dry and flake off your skin, and it's definitely kind of gross but you’re so happy and sated and tired in that moment that you’re pretty sure nothing on earth could ruin the moment for you. Not even Bakugou when he comes pounding at the door and yelling obscenities in the form of noise complaints.

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 27 - Keeping Your Head Up

Masterlist; Chapter 26

Summary: Sleepless nights and plotting the way forward. You and Neil finally talk about the approaching battle. The conversation provides the spark for action.

Warnings: 18+ (not so implied content, if ya know what I mean); swearing.

Author's Notes: Here we go, earlier than I expected because who said that uni should be more important than fanfiction. This one goes through the whole spectrum of human emotions and I'm not even sure what's going on... but here it is. And I'll hope you'll enjoy! Let me know what you think?

P.S. Yes, Stalsk is soon. Yes, I'm terrified. How about you? :)))

Once the last arcs of light disappeared from the night sky and the troops started to disperse, one look exchanged with Neil was enough to help you decide. You led him through the ship’s quarters, hands holding tightly in the unspoken promise. Whatever happened during the aurora only confirmed what you knew from the previous night. There was no question of giving him up. One does not give up on the love of their life. Simple.

As the door to your cabin closed, both of you knew what had to happen. Neil wound his arm around your waist, pushing you against the wall. No space left between your bodies as your gazes met:

“I love you,” a whisper leaving his mouth reverence and certainty.

With the pulse pounding in your ears, you took the words off his mouth with a kiss. Hunger and need betrayed by your eager hands, grabbing hold of his sweater and pulling him down. In response, Neil kissed you harder, lips bruising, teeth tearing the skin to make you understand. Soon it became a duel of passion, each desperate to push the other off the edge. To stake the claim. Mindless of time and caution, you tugged at the clothes and stole the breath from each other’s lungs. Minutes passed, but it was never quite enough. Never satisfied. Only once the lightheadedness made you feel close to passing out from the lack of oxygen, you broke the kiss with a gasp. Your eyes opened to see Neil gazing back at you with a grin on his face. He glanced at your mouth as you licked off the saliva, chasing the taste for that second longer. Then, lost in the daze, you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his chest.

“What?” he gently cradled your head, pulling you closer into the strange hug.

With words missing, you took the additional moment to catch your breath and piece together a response:

“It’s... this is good. I don’t want it to end” a shy smile which he could not even see.

Still, the truth. Your idle hands ventured underneath the clothes, settling on the belt loops with the thumbs grazing over his sides. The warmth of the skin, a vivid reminder about the previous night. Something within your reach.

“It won’t. I’m never letting you go again,” confirming the words he tightened the hold, “Do you want to pick up the conversation or...” Neil trailed off, something in his voice arousing curiosity.

You raised your head, noticing the hint of a smirk on his lips. And the sparks in his eyes.

“Or?” courageous fingers ghosting over his stomach, bringing out sharp inhales.

You were never someone who paid too much attention to men’s musculature. It was never on the list of ‘requirements’ or expectations. And yet, as you carefully brushed your fingertips over his firm abdomen, that spark of satisfaction was there. And attraction, never waning since you first laid your eyes on him.

“We could continue with this...” ignorant of your thoughts, Neil searched your face with hints of hesitation in his eyes, “But only if you want to. I wouldn’t want you to think that all I’m here for is…” the deepening frown made you snap out of the reverie and shut him up with a finger against the mouth.

“Neil,” firmly, yet with a playful smile upon your lips, “You’re telling that to someone who just considered fainting if it meant extending that kiss,” your grin widening upon the shock on his face.

And then he grinned, cupping your cheek and brushing the pad of thumb over your lower lip. Drawing out a sigh with ease that not that long ago would have embarrassed you. Now there was no reason to hide it.

“Fair point” Neil smiled lightly, gaze distant showing you that he still had some things to say, “It’s just that…”

His eyes met yours a helpless plea. To understand, to chase away the worries and doubts. He did not need to ask for that.

“Yes?” you picked up the conversation, fingers running through his hair.

The gesture both a comfort and a way of reminding him of where you were. Of what you could give him if he only agreed. Judging by the way he leaned into your touch, it did work. After a beat, he met your gaze again, words pouring out with desperation and self-directed bitterness:

“We’ve lost so much time because of my stupidity. And I feel like it’s running out. If there’s not much left, then I want to give you all I’ve got” the earnest look stealing away the remains of breath from your lungs “And words can only go as far. Some of what I feel can’t be expressed like that, it’s...” trailing off, he faltered as though uncertain.

Oh god. It felt almost surreal to understand. That he would be questioning your desire to have sex again after all the confessions and admitted truths. That he would worry about going too far. As if that was not exactly what you wanted. All because he cared too much about your issues with being this close. Idiot. Ignoring the need to stop his silly doubts with a kiss, you tilted his chin and made sure he could see the longing in your eyes:

“I don’t need much convincing to agree for a repeat of last night. Only an idiot would’ve said no to all that… pleasure” simply, just as letting your free hand bravely brush over his crotch.

The answering gasp was more than promising. You could see the resolve breaking as he tried to level the breathing. Fingers taking hold of your shirt, toying with the material. Knuckles brushing over the skin on your stomach. The internal conflict close to a resolution. A favourable one. Only…

“You’re not tired?” the blue eyes full of concern and unmeasurable yearning.

Too good. With heart close to bursting from the amount of love, you took that as the cue to be brave. To be honest and show him the extent of need ravaging through your blood:

“I am. But I want you” purposefully meeting his gaze with an unguarded look, “I want to feel your hands on my body. To make love with you, knowing that you’re mine,” you observed as he swallowed hard, hands grasping onto your waist underneath the shirt “To feel you inside me” the conclusion whispered as your courage wavered.

Because that was a first. Explicitly stating wants and desires were never a forte, with the insecurities and anxiety making you forgo every attempt. Until now, with Neil, who was stunned into silence. His eyes darkened almost imperceptibly as the words sunk in. He understood.

You barely had the time to register when his lips crashed against yours in the kiss to put every single one before it to shame. This time there was no moderation, no slowness in any of your actions. Hands barely had the time to catch up with the needs as you both fumbled around with the clothes. A casualty – the cup of tea abandoned by the bed sent tumbling onto the floor. But you have not even noticed, too occupied by Neil, his skilful hands and breathtaking moves.

Logic of your closeness startling in its simplicity. Without needing to ask, he made sure you were ready, consent chased at every stage with something as straightforward as eyes searching yours, looking for that nod. For the spark, that told him what you wanted. And then, as he allowed you to have everything once again, gazes locked and held. Love passed with each sigh, shudder and moan. Faster and harder, seeking that familiar rush. Confirming what you both knew already. Never enough. Hands worshipping every inch of your body as you drove him to the edge and over, following suit. This time you did not bite back on words that settled on the tip of your tongue. With every single instance, the three words rolled off with more ease. That moment not any different, the I love you whispered as he offered you the necessary release, sealed with a kiss and explosion of pleasure. Nothing came close. Nothing ever would.

***

The quietness of the moment right after was astonishing in its tranquility. Neil pulled you back down to lie next to him on the bed with your head propped on his chest, the heartbeat a constant white noise bringing peace. With those careful hands caressing your skin, there was no place for insecurities. Only the overwhelming feeling of completeness, as if now when you knew that your heart was safely his, everything else has sunk into the background. That, of course, was an illusion, one that had to be shattered pretty quickly with the reminder about the topic you were yet to discuss. But it could wait. Just a little longer.

“Not a bad way to finish off the evening,” the low murmur tinted with a playful edge.

Of course. Despite the warmth spreading through your body, you grinned, arms embracing him tightly, even if only to show agreement. It really was. And yet…

“Was it still that good? Like you said, in the morning-” the eternal need for validation speaking up before you could properly gather the thoughts.

Thankfully, Neil sensed what was coming before you did. He sat up, dragging you with him.

“Christ, you-” the exasperation betrayed by the heavy sigh, “If I need to tell you how amazing it was every time we have sex, then I will. Keep that in mind” he observed you closely, taking in the spreading blush and deepening shock “My love” an addition followed by a bop on the nose.

Just like that. Without giving you time to react, he laid down again. This time you seemingly had a choice, no arms holding you close as if to show that you were free to suffer the doubts alone. As if. With a quiet huff, you settled back on the bed facing him. The lack of touch felt strange.

“I’ll take that as a warning” stubbornly, you met his gaze, awaiting nothing but satisfaction.

Rightfully so. The infamous smirk graced his lips as he stared at you fondly. Maybe it was time to abandon the uncertainty. Maybe you really got that lucky.

“You should,” as though he too was missing the contact, he reached out to stroke your cheek slowly, “And yes, it was still very much mind-blowingly good. Splendid. Terrific” with each word, the blush was darkening.

Neil’s smugness growing exponentially. Too much.

“Okay, stop,” ignoring the sudden desire to punch him, you chose the puppy-eyed look instead, “Please,” placing your hands on his shoulders if only to assert the dominance.

The sudden flash of darkness within the blue eyes was unexpected. And fascinating.

“Make me,” a whisper accompanied by his touch trailing down your stomach.

That was a challenge you gladly accepted. Using the moment of stagnation, you rolled over to trap him beneath you. His eyes swept over your chest, hands settling on your waist, making everything easier as always. It was not difficult to lean in and shut him up with another breathtaking kiss, with teeth catching that frustrating lower lip showing him why it was unwise to test you. The answering groan and tightening grip were good enough confirmation. And also, a perfect moment to let go and let him suffer alone.

The offended look on his face - absolutely delightful. You waited patiently as he got over the initial shock and wound his arm around your waist once again. From the wistfulness on Neil’s face, you could tell that he was not done:

“Now I know why I’ve always been so drawn to you. You’ve got quite the skillset” the meaningful look giving more confidence than anything ever “And, mind you, I might be catastrophically in love with you but that… no wonder we couldn’t keep our hands off each other” accentuating the meaning, he cupped your face once again “You’re unforgettable. Wonderful. Extraordinary. And mine” the litany closed off with happiness in his eyes “Which is why I’ll start counting my blessings” a kiss on your forehead finishing the speech.

You met his gaze with a gaping mouth. What on earth… That amount of affection expressed just like that was overwhelming. The only thing that could be done was to hug him tightly and hide from the fond look by burying your head in the crook of his neck. The warmth of your bodies slowly lulling you back into the peaceful illusion of safety. Into believing that the drama was truly beyond you. Only one last issue circulating your brain, nagging at the thoughts and creating ‘what ifs’ that needed answering. Maybe…

“I’ve got one more silly question before I’ll be quiet for eternity” your whisper broke the silence with the husky timbre.

You felt Neil’s low chuckle before you heard it. His hand stroking your back without a stutter. As if that was second nature. As if he always knew how to touch you but held back. Until now.

“Go on then,” you raised your head in time to see a happy grin, “Miss silly questions,” fingertips skirting over your profile, stopping at your mouth.

The ghost-like touch, parting your lips just because it was possible. Because casual intimacy was no longer out of bounds. Ignoring the sudden onrush of feelings, you chose to use the rare courage to your advantage:

“Are you my boyfriend now? Is that what I should call you?” blurting out the questions with deepening blush and increasing embarrassment.

Too clingy. What if he wanted to keep this casual, without labels? And you just messed it up? Like everything in your life. Before the sabotage could take over, a familiar hand tilted your chin up. The blue eyes, searching yours, looking for clues towards the extent of self-inflicted damage. Whatever he found was enough to call for a soft kiss, followed by a cheeky smile:

“Boyfriend, partner... husband, whatever you want darling,” the wink almost making you brush over the words.

Almost. Your brain froze as you remembered the meaning of the terms used. The ridiculousness of it all taking away the last bits of reason.

“... We’re not married,” staring at him as though he has officially lost it, you stated the obvious.

Only the answering grin was not that obvious. Or the way he took hold of your hand and kissed your knuckles, all the while maintaining eye contact.

“Are you sure about that?” the arched eyebrow adding the final blow.

There was no end to the shock as the absurd of everything caught up. The laugh could not be contained anymore, giggles interrupting whatever you could want to tell him. The happy look in his eyes, making everything even worse. Only once you could catch your breath again, an expression of exasperation the only thing passing through your throat:

“Jesus Christ… Neil” a hint of warning.

Mostly to stop being so bloody charming. Even with spite, it was difficult to find flaws in that beautiful face. Or to stop the constant flood of affection whenever your gazes locked. He looked completely unbothered, amused by your reaction.

“You knew what you’re signing up for,” a shrug showing no remorse whatsoever.

He did have a point. Still.

“Yes, but… I hate you sometimes,” the words triggered by the eternal frustration, “You with your perfect eyes and jaw that cut through my defences. And let’s not even mention all that smooth talk” ever so casually, you traced the outline of his jawline.

Catching the hints of something darker in his expression, you felt the need from before return. Making you cling closer to him, find a temporary fix for the addiction in the way you fit together. Legs entwined; comfort brought by something as simple as the possibility to share the pillow with him. Or the option to get lost in his gaze, let his hands explore all the curves and edges. Everything that you could offer.

“And yet,” the simplicity of his answer was enough to make you grin.

Distractedly, you let your fingers skim down his chest, watching with fascination at how easy it was to treat him as yours. The naturality of the conversation and the variety of responses to keep up the banter. Effortless. Before you found the right words, Neil traced the path down your thigh, creating the tiniest sparks of electricity.

“My most humiliating defeat,” you admitted with a feigned disappointment painted on your face.

That seemed to be the bait he needed. You observed with satisfaction the way his eyes lit up. The cheeky smile back on his lips. There we go.

“You didn’t seem humiliated. Just now,” hand getting dangerously close to the space between your thighs “More like… satisfied” Neil shifted forward, closing the gap between your faces “By me” a low whisper before he captured your lips in a kiss.

A hard one that deepened the bruises and showed you why you had no choice but to give in. Why resting within his embrace was where you were meant to be. You let the feelings consume you whole, clinging even closer to him, arms holding him tightly, letting the breathlessness roam free. The only cue to end the kiss came from Neil, who has run out of oxygen and ended the contact with a sharp gasp. He did not let go, however, extending the hug for at least five minutes, during which you both savoured the moment. The quiet only disturbed with the sounds of your breathing and the synchronised heartbeats, marking the passage of time. It would be easy to fall asleep like that, feeling safe and loved. Finally important to someone. Finally his. But you knew that the things needing talking over would catch up eventually. And so, with the heart getting heavier and the body aching for more, you let go and disentangled enough to meet his eyes again. Nothing but affection there. It was that overwhelming love that prodded the next reflection:

“Sometimes I can’t quite believe you’re real” you let yourself stare a little longer, taking in his infatuated gaze and ruffled hair.

His beauty always startling in its harshness. The angles and sharp edges capable of shattering a heart. You knew that best of all. And yet, with the blue eyes that always showed a myriad of feelings, he was not intimidating, only absolutely fascinating. Someone you could admire for hours and would never have enough. Now, with your curious glance reflected and gentle touch caressing your temple, the luck felt almost immeasurable. Because how could you get this fortunate?

“I am, all yours to touch... and do whatever else you want,” the response bringing the confirmation.

It was that simple. The darker glimmer in his eyes told you as much. You hoped the smile was a good enough answer, for there were no words. Neil acknowledged your speechlessness with a timid smile, as though he too needed time to get used to the new dynamic. To the honesty and unrestrained confessions passed between you to make up for the lost time. The longing in his gaze was enough to let you know that it was time. That you could not stall anymore.

“Tempting…but…” you let out a long exhale and forced out the serious tone, “We should talk,”

One look in his direction told you he understood. The smile wiped off his face in an instant, the frown replacing the previous shyness. With the sudden need to make your circumstances a little bit more bearable, you got up and took hold of his t-shirt abandoned on the floor. Without thinking too much, you slipped it on and turned back to face Neil. An answering grin was a needed reassurance. You observed as he put on the boxers and settled back next to you, instantly drawing you into a half embrace with an arm placed over your shoulders and a hand resting on your thigh. It was all the comforts you could hope for beginning the difficult topic. Nothing to hold you back now. One look at him was enough to permit you to start. Alas…

“Every second I’m falling harder in love with you, and there’s no end to it,” the opening sentence getting out without a stutter as you stared at his fingers idly tracing patterns on your bare skin “I might not understand much-” watching with horror as he opened his mouth to protest you closed it with hand placed over his lips “No, Neil, let me say it” firmly, gaze held to show the determination; after a beat, he nodded and you resumed “I don’t understand much. Probably a quarter of what you know since you’re the smart one here, but... I refuse to give up before we try to make it work together. Let me help you” you could see the conflict brewing in his eyes, thousands of worries passing through his face; one last thing to say “I like to think that there’s a reason why I’ve been brought into this. That I’ve got a bigger role to play than being your lover” you whispered the word shyly, as if almost unsure if it was the right one.

It seemed correct, but… With growing uncertainty, you watched as Neil’s frown deepened. Then he seemed to consider something with eyes closed as though needing to block you out of the picture. That did not help the anxiety. Before your heartbeat could kick in with the elevated speed, he faced you again with new emotions painted all over the features. Most obvious of all – hesitancy. And then…

“You’re much more than that,” a long inhale as though that could give him courage, “You’re… You could be my- We could-” he faltered, the blue eyes looking anywhere but at you.

With your mind starting up the sirens for the world-ending kind of emergency, you could only blurt out the straightforward questions:

“What? What are you trying to say?” your voice wavered, betraying the chaos within.

It was that one false note vibrating through your vocal cords that made Neil calm down a fraction. Finally, he met your widened gaze, and after an extended second of soul-searching, he responded:

“I want to marry you… even today,” oh “If you’d want that, of course,” a hurried addition, with eyebrows knitting together and teeth nibbling on the lower lip restlessly.

Oh. Christ. Now nothing was stopping your pulse from picking up the tempo. The blood rushed into your cheeks as the words sunk in. That was far from anything you expected to hear. Now or ever. From him or anybody else. The sight he presented at the moment told you that there was no point in doubting the authenticity of the proposal. No one would look this terrified because of a lie. With words missing, you could only let out a half-hearted laugh:

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the forced lightness bouncing off his rigid resolve with the speed of light.

He took your hand in his, thumb brushing over the knuckles. Additional regard given to your ring finger almost thoughtlessly. It was hard to remember about something as basic as breathing as you stared at him, pondering his very next sentence. An explanation, hopefully.

“I’m serious. I need you to understand how much I love you. More than I can express and enough to know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you” the earnest look stunning you into silence with his beauty.

The confession needing at least two business days to be processed and understood. But there was no time for that. The part of your heart that has fallen in love with him circa New York ready to abandon logic and say yes. No matter the approaching battle, the lack of reason or sense in any of this. But that voice had to be silenced. For now.

“Neil… You can’t- It’s been less than a day since we-” you stumbled over the protest, failing to piece together a coherent argument.

Because it was both a yes, and a no. Yes, I want to marry you. Not now. Not yet. Not with the world on fire and uncertain chances of survival. But how do you say that?

“I know, but I’ve been feeling like this for months. And everything that happened showed me that I’m right. I need you” your internal monologue got cut short by Neil’s response, “But if… if you don’t want me like that, it’s alright. I-” it was the sudden insecurity betrayed by the stutter that alerted you.

You could not allow him to doubt your feelings like this. Never again. Following the instincts, you clamped your hand over his mouth again, cutting off the horrifying ramblings.

“Shut up,” you met his gaze and replaced the hand with your mouth, kissing him slowly, “I want you, exactly like that. But I want to have a future with you, filled with so much love and understanding that it will make my heart ache” the meaningful look focused only on the man inches away from you “That’s why we need to work together. So, one day if you’ll still feel the same… you’ll ask me properly, and I’ll say yes” the breathless addition costing you blush on the cheeks and a flash of anxiety.

The best answer you could offer hanging in the tense silence. Hesitantly, you looked at him again, searching for a response. The knowledge that he understood your plea and was willing to accept it. As your eyes locked, Neil smiled, the expression brightening up the mood in an instant. Maybe it would be alright.

“That might have been the most poetic rejection I’ve ever heard,” he murmured, and before you could comment on that, captured your lips in a kiss.

Gently showing you that he understood. Deepening the contact, making the reality catch up. It was real. He wanted you, and not just now. Loved you enough to marry you if the universe allowed. That was a prospect good enough to fight for. An idea to fight off the doubts and worries. Because no matter what your brain had to offer in exchange, it could not compare. Ending the kiss, on a contented sigh, you rested your forehead against his. Taking an additional moment to level the breathing and stare into the eyes that have seen the inside of your soul and accepted it.

“You took me by surprise,” the nervous grin appearing on your face on its own accord.

Neil mirrored it, fingers cupping your face and stroking your cheek tenderly.

“Sorry…” a kiss on the forehead “Since I woke up today and looked at you… it’s been on my mind. The idea that you’re the one, and I need to let you know somehow. An obvious way would be to make you my wife” an overwhelming wave of fondness passing through the system at his words.

Neil’s wife. That sounded good. Hopeful. A label you would be proud to have one day. Final confirmation of your love. That was the needed spark to steer the conversation back on the right track. You leaned in once again and laid a small kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Will you let me help you?” the simple question as you forced the seriousness once again.

This time he looked less nervous. Instead, you could see the battle playing out within his gaze. Fear and worry most prominent, close to tipping the scales and engulfing his mind within their shadow:

“I understand your logic… and why you want to go with me,” the diplomatic tone making you frown, “But… I don’t think I’ll be able to survive losing you. If something went wrong and you’d- I can’t let that happen” steel-cold resolve you knew from those disastrous meetings where this topic was the ultimate hot spot.

Now, technically, the issue of holding back was out of the way. Now neither of you had to pretend that you cared less; that there was anything else at stake but your feelings towards each other. Still, the fear of another argument was settling in the pit of your stomach as you aimed to answer with necessary determination:

“That goes both ways, Neil,” your comment causing him to look up with a surprise, “You need to understand that we’re both stubborn idiots who won’t let go. The best we can do is compromise” the softer tone needed to persuade him somehow.

You observed as he swallowed hard, your hand still within his grasp, now clutched tightly. As if he was afraid you would disappear if he relaxed the grip. Finally, he raised his head once again and met your searching gaze. Panic. Denial.

“But what if-” the words coming out strained, broken.

You did not like where it was going, and so you interrupted the supposition:

“What if what? There’s a reason why TP sent me those materials. Why he thought it’s crucial we know about the lock, and we prepare for it” the urgency crept into your voice, disrupting the illusion that you were the calmer one.

But how can one discuss something this important emotionlessly?

“Maybe they’re meant for me. So that I can go in there, open the gate, and leave” Neil’s answer made you snap up with sparks of passion burning in your eyes.

What you found on his face made it worse. It was that same resignation from before. As if he had no other choice but sacrifice himself. As if that was the only option, and he did not even want to consider alternatives. Why? Ignoring the desire to slap sense into him, you urged the reason to fight alongside you and put on the most definitive of voices:

“But what if something or someone stops you?” the question tearing through the fragile reality as you faced his conflicted look, “You’ve got reasons to come back now. Don’t you dare give me that same self-sacrificial crap” mindless of your need to stay strong, a single tear trailed down your cheek.

It fell perfectly onto your joined hands, making Neil look up sharply. His forehead creased with a new dose of angst as he reached out to wipe the wetness from your cheek. Taking a moment to stroke your neck then, gently caressing the skin as if it was necessary. As if the time was running out.

“Maybe this… maybe it’s all we’re meant to have. Those few days and-” the heartbroken look he gave you was enough to call for drastic measures.

Impatiently, you took hold of his free hand and grasped his chin to force him to meet your gaze:

“No” certain, no place for bargains, “I won’t give up on you without trying. You’ve made yourself essential to me, you’ve given me something else to… to be” you faltered, more tears streaking down your face; words needed but missing “I can’t let you take it away like that” a sudden stroke of anger adding inspiration for the very next argument “And why? Because ‘what’s happened happened’? That’s just another way of excusing inaction” with fascination you saw him flinch.

You have hit the right spot. Now it was the question of persisting. Of making him understand how ridiculously he was acting. How selfish it was to get himself killed in the name of philosophy. The wrong one, at that.

“It’s not. It’s an expression of fate in the mechanics of the world, not an excuse to-” he recited the words as though he knew them by heart.

As though it was his credo. Bullshit.

“Do nothing?” you completed the sentence with an arched brow, “And what is it that you’re planning to do?” biting edge unplanned but helpful.

If only to see him hesitate. No scripted cue for this question.

“Save the world. For you,” the candid answer taking you by surprise, “Because this the only way I can assure your survival” Neil stared at you with startling emptiness.

It was not exactly unexpected, but still. The fact that you mattered that much, the lengths he was willing to go to for your sake. Fuck. Overwhelmed with love and fear, your heart begged to be released. It thrashed within its cage, pulse pounding in your ears as you forced the brain to work. To tell him how wrong he was to think you wanted a life that did not guarantee his presence.

“The trouble is I don’t want to live in the world without you in it” that straightforward; making sure he held your gaze before continuing, “Listen to me. We will devise a plan, the best we can come up with, and then we’ll go in there together. I’ll cover you and help you escape after the job is done” you outlined the most reasonable of options and added upon his silence “It’s that simple,”

The conversation slowly draining the remains of energy in your body. You wanted nothing but to curl up in his embrace and sleep, forget about this whole mess, even if for a few hours. But you could not have that yet. Not with Neil offering yet another counterstrike:

“It’s everything but simple,” more worry in the stormy eyes, “I don’t know if I can do it… if I can let you…” he trailed off, the unspoken concerns making him interlace your fingers securely.

That called for the final defensive.

“Do you trust me?” you dropped the question with a neutral tone.

The answer hoped for but never taken for granted.

“Yes,” he did not stumble, the word rolling off his tongue with ease.

A rare surge of hope blooming in your chest.

“Then trust me on this too,” raising your joined hands to your lips and kissing his knuckles, “Together we can come up with something brilliant, I’m sure of it” a tentative smile to sign off the sentiment.

You did not know it was the gesture or your words that did it. You saw him waver, teeth nibbling on the bottom lip showing you the depth of the internal struggle. And then his eyes softened.

“You’ll need to be careful. I can’t risk losing you,” refusing to look at you, attention focused on your hands resting in the space between your folded legs.

It felt strange to know that you were this important. But it also explained everything, helping you find the solution to his worries and a way out of the stalemate.

“I know. I love you, and I’ve no plans of dying until we’re both ready to go. Together” you could only grin at his shocked expression, “So?”

You knew you had won the moment he cracked a tiny smile:

“…Okay… but only if you promise me that if things get nasty, you’ll leave. Without putting up a fight,” waiting for your response, he gazed into your soul, careful touch running up your thigh.

That seemed like an acceptable condition. One that offered space for maneuvers. One that could be argued with later.

“I promise,” the whisper opening up a space to lean in and kiss him.

Sealing your fates, confirming the beliefs. A final opportunity to show him why you were willing to do anything to save him. And vice versa.

As the kisses evolved into cuddles and the simple need to find comfort in each other, the tiredness caught up with you both. Another yawn interrupted the comfortable silence. Your hands were idly resting over Neil’s heart, the steady rhythm helping you calm down after the eventful day. He kept on stroking your hair, fingers tangling in the strands and smoothing them down. The repetitive movement easing you in, bringing a needed break from the stress and anxiety of the past weeks. As your eyelids felt heavier with every passing breath, a final question had to be asked:

“Can you stay with me?” the sudden timidness not fitting in with the intimacy of the situation.

And yet. Any voices of uncertainty got extinguished the moment you looked up at Neil and met his bright gaze:

“As if you think I’d leave. Don’t be silly,” the sheer audacity of your question causing his grin to widen, “I need to make up for all those lonely nights somehow” voice lowered to a whisper, gentle touch trailing up your arm, soothing and promising.

Good enough to succumb to and let go already. However, that need for water was stronger, causing you to smile apologetically before untangling from the complex web of limbs and standing up. His eyes followed your movement like a hawk, smirk forming on his face as he took in your dishevelment. As you stretched, the hem of the borrowed shirt rode up, exposing the glaring lack of underwear. The rare rush of confidence was strengthened by the look in his eyes. Suddenly being seen did not hurt that much.

“That you do” taking a sip of the water, you asked, “Can I keep the t-shirt?”

It was just a simple black shirt, good enough to sleep in, engulfing you in the additional dose of that ‘Neil smell’.

“Of course,” an appreciative nod, distracting you to glance at the abandoned phone, “You seem to like me shirtless… which I’m not complaining about,”

The comment was enough to make you turn back, however. Obviously. Taking in his satisfied grin, the urge to slap him was back. That, though, could turn your peaceful evening into something else. Something that perhaps was best left for the future.

“I just generally rather like you, Neil” the retort dropped with perfect disinterest.

No one messaged you, which was bound to be counted as a win. You got a far as making sure the phone was on mute, and you were ready to join him back in the bed when Neil’s question made you turn with widened eyes:

“Can you check my phone, please?” there was nothing suspicious in the way he asked.

As if it was nothing. But it was not exactly nothing. With trembling hands, you went through his notifications. Nothing remarkable or worth mentioning. It was when you faced Neil again after a minute that you noticed his taxing gaze, analysing your every move. He acknowledged your startled look with a serious smile:

“I can see that shocked face, and I’ve got one thing to say to your mean brain - I’ve nothing to hide from you” the emphasis placed on the right words “You can go through my texts if you want to test that” a passing glance at the device you still held in your hand.

Now that was too much. The idea itself triggering the reservoirs of worries. That you were too possessive. That the insecurities were getting ahead of you. As though burned, you put the phone down:

“Christ, no, sorry,” covering your face with your hands for a beat, “I don’t know why…”

Why what? Fuck knows. Looking for comfort, you glanced at him helplessly. Maybe with time, it would get easier. Maybe.

“It’s alright. Come here” Neil had no doubts as he extended his hand towards you in the simple invitation.

He need not say it twice. You switched off the remaining lights and took his hand, letting him pull you into a hug. The whispered reassurances and affirmations followed as you settled for the night. Carefully, you placed your hands over his heart and the scar on the side, mirroring night from another place and another time. As you closed off the day with a final breathless kiss, it was astonishingly effortless to realise that it was where you were meant to be. His lips glided over yours with tenderness reflected in the way he pulled you closer. Finally, you exchanged another confession and closed your eyes. Joined hands resting in the space between your heads like a beacon of hope. Someone to hold on to.

***

The initial sleepiness lasted for about three hours. After that, your brain switched back on, no longer satisfied by the presence of Neil’s steady breaths or the anchoring touch reminding you of the new circumstances. With every minute, it was harder to focus on falling back asleep. Instead, you were forced to go over the various what-ifs and worries centred around the battle. Thoughts of locks, guns, and bullets elevating your pulse and warming up your body in the familiar signs of an upcoming anxiety attack. Overwhelmed with the flood of ideas, you opened your eyes. No salvation in the darkness. Only the warmth of the embrace acting as a reminder to breathe. With a spark of fondness, you realised that Neil pulled you even closer throughout the night. His hands have slipped underneath the shirt. The touch comforting yet also warm enough to be bothering the heightened emotions. You had to get up and cool down. Only that was easier said than done. With his tight hold, it was difficult to untangle, and the first attempt got stopped with half-asleep Neil clutching you with stubbornness, refusing to let go. Despite your heart desperately clinging to the comforts of the position, you decided to take it slow. You raised your head and watched him for a short moment, involuntarily smiling at the peacefulness painted across his features. The relaxed forehead, long eyelashes falling on the cheeks, and strands of hair splayed on the pillow like a crown of gold. Beautiful. Leaning in, you placed a fleeting kiss on his temple, then another one on the cheek, lips brushing over the corner of his lips in a ghost of a touch. Message simple – sleep, it’s alright.

It worked, for he relaxed his hold enough for you to get up from the bed and trod over to the window. The coldness of the room waking up the senses, moonlight spilling over as you glanced at the horizon. Nothing but the ocean and the starry skies. No salvation to be found there. Unable to let go of the worries, you sighed heavily and pressed your forehead against the glass. There was hardly any point in trying to go back to sleep. That train has left the station. Your hands trembled lightly, betraying the anxious energy stored in every single cell of your body. Needing to get out somehow. Briefly, you considered putting on clothes and slipping out to let the cold air calm you down. But that could only help for a brief moment. You needed a better solution. A way to shut down the qualms. How was an entirely different question.

Your nervous internal ramblings got cut short with the unmistakable rustling coming from the bed behind, followed by:

“Why did you leave?” Neil’s husky voice enriched with the sleepy drawl causing a smile to spread on your face.

With the permanent warmth seeping through your chest with the reminder that it was finally your reality, you turned back to face him.

“I can’t sleep,” sheepish admission completed with a small shrug, “It’s fine though, I can-” as you sat down on the mattress, Neil silenced you with a hand taking yours and lacing the fingers.

“What’s wrong?” he seemed more awake now, the familiar focus back in his eyes, “And don’t tell me it’s nothing because I’m not buying that,” the disclaimer placed with a firmness that still startled you.

Supposedly it was time to get used to being seen like this. Right through, no bullshit allowed. Terrifying and endearing. Because for once you were understood. Accepted.

Taking an additional moment to collect the thoughts, you brushed the hair away from his forehead. Careful touch making Neil shut his eyes and lean into your palm as you traced the sharp edge of his cheekbone.

“I can’t stop thinking about the lock… All of the what-ifs and plans are starting to drive me insane,” you admitted quietly, not stopping the tender caress, “It’s like whenever I try to go back to sleep, the thoughts just keep rushing in, and there’s no end to them” the dejected note causing Neil to open his eyes and meet your tired gaze.

His brow furrowed, hold over your hand tightened as though he wanted to reassert his presence. A reminder that you did not have to deal with it alone anymore. In response, you squeezed his palm and rested your head on his shoulder.

“I know the feeling well,” a kiss on the top of your head, “Maybe we should make use of it,” the hopeful edge kindling curiosity.

“How?” somehow, it already felt a little bit better.

As though being able to share the troubles could make your heart less heavy. Because he was there and willing to fight the demons away with you. That was enough to assure you that he was the one. He had to be.

“Let’s go to the bridge and start planning. You won’t sleep and, frankly, knowing you’re feeling like this, I won’t either, so what have we got to lose?” the explanation simple in its directness.

For a moment, you wanted to argue, to tell him to go back to bed and let you deal with this one your own. Because it was selfish to drag him along at 3 am to brainstorm over the filter coffee and A0 format blueprints. Yet the moment your eyes met his, the protests died on your lips. Everything you saw in his gaze told you that there would be no bargaining over it. That he was bound to follow you into the bridge and start the planning right now if it meant you would be able to sleep and calm down. You could only show how that realisation felt through a kiss that strengthened every single feeling twice fold.

***

That is how you have found yourself slouched over the terrain maps and Sator’s compound blueprints with the old-school ticking away the early morning hours on the opposite wall. This early (or late?), the bridge was bathed in the glow of the dawn spreading throughout the eastern horizon. It was incredibly cold, the biting chill causing you both to huddle at the corner of the large table with pullovers zipped up and mugs clutched in your hands. The adorable pinkish tint on Neil’s cheeks and tips of his ears were almost good enough to suffer.

Quickly you established the main points needing covering: the area separating the drop-off zone from the epicentre and tunnel leading inwards, the ten minutes you would have for the whole job, and the potential fuck-ups. With your directions, Neil drew the simplified plan of the terrain on the blackboard, and you attempted to figure out the optimal time needed to cross the distance while inverted. That turned out to be a rather inspiring conversation…

“How fast can you run?” standing at the head of the table, Neil threw a glance at you in passing.

With a grin, you noticed that he managed to get a blue marker stain on his chin. The desire to get up and deal with that distracting you from answering the question. Long enough for him to glare at you offendedly. Riiight…

“Not as fast as you… with all those legs, but I’ll manage” you eyed his slender form with a glimmer in your eye, noting down the exact route to cover.

Tough, but manageable. You were definitely not going to back out now. Not a chance.

“All those legs?” Neil’s clueless tone made you look up with a wide smile.

Cute. One would think someone this gorgeous would be vain. Not this one, however. You stared at him, fascinated by the confusion visible in his face. There was only one way to show him. You got up and crossed the space in two strides, stopping half a meter away, a wicked grin on your lips.

“Legs for miles, sunshine,” one more taxing look directed at him, slowly slipping over every single inch of his body.

Ending the scrutiny on his face again, you closed the space and cupped his cheek. Taking in the widened pupils and parted lips.

“Blimey,” a longer exhale, timidity highlighted by the deepening blush and disbelief in his voice, “Is there a part of me you’re not crazy about?”

As if. Perhaps it was the mix of anxiety, sleep deprivation, and unbelievable luck that made you braver. You placed your hand around his neck to get proper leverage and make him bow down slightly.

“…nope,” the poker face easily achieved before you kissed him on the marker smudge, “Do with that what you will,” a wink as you made sure to press your body against his in a clear message.

And then you strolled back to your chair. As though nothing happened. After all, it was time for work… and a little bit of fun.

Your punishment for the provocation came not long after when Neil came back to the table to help you figure out the best way into the epicentre. Busy with the blueprints, you only noticed his presence once you felt a teasing touch run up your spine, followed by lips trailing kisses down the nape of your neck. However far the collar of your pullover allowed. Involuntarily you shuddered, the reaction instantaneous as you grasped the edge of the cold table to keep focused.

“Neil-” a half-whine exposing the frustration.

Mistake. He must have knelt on the floor behind your chair, for the next thing you felt was the warm breath causing goosebumps all along your neck and throat. He pressed another kiss to the spot right under your ear. The specially chosen one always resulted in thighs clenched tightly and warmth spreading down your veins.

“Don’t tell me you thought I’ll let that pass” the whisper confirmed your suspicions.

One glance at Neil told you he was rather proud of himself as he mirrored your wink from before with a satisfied smirk.

“Rude,” you rolled your eyes, huff added to the drama.

Perhaps mission planning could be interesting like that. Perhaps. As though following your line of thinking, Neil leaned in once again and pressed a kiss to your throat. His hands sneaked around your waist and between the thighs for a split second. Enough to make you groan.

“Is it now?” he chuckled and got up before you could utter a sound, “So… which entry do you propose, miss?” leaning over your head, tone strictly business.

Just like that. Bloody bastard. There was nothing else to do but sigh heavily and begin to plot revenge in the quiet of your mind. That could be rather pleasant.

You decided on an entry point, separate from the tunnel used by the splinter unit just in case. Whatever that case might be. Around five o’clock, when the whole of the room was bathed in the mellow sunlight and the few fucked up seagulls were desperately trying to fight over a fish on the line of your eyesight, you yawned for what felt like the hundredth time and glanced at the sofa longingly. It seemed like now, after over two hours spent planning and talking about nothing but the bloody lock (and the possibilities of your relationship), anxiety has started to die down, leaving nothing but the worst of energy slumps. Neil must have caught your worsening state, for, suddenly you felt a careful touch on your shoulder. He drew you into a half hug, lips pressed against your temple in the soft kiss. You relaxed in his hold instantaneously, the sense of peace finally palpable and within your reach.

“You can go lie down,” he murmured, gently steering you towards the settee, “We’ll go over the obstacles we need to prep for now, but I don’t need you at the table for that” with a small smile, Neil pushed you down to sit.

“Thanks,” you grinned at him, the expression carrying over the rest of what you could not say just yet.

It was too easy to prop your head on the armrest and listen to him ponder on the various ways your mission could be hindered. So easy that you did not even realise when sleep has won over everything else, and you have given in to dreams with Neil’s steady voice fading into the background.

***

When your consciousness has once again reached the surface, you have noticed two things at once. A presence of a duvet you have been covered with that was not there previously, and a blinding light shining right at your face. Slowly, you opened your eyes, squinting at the brightness, and took in the surroundings. The bridge. Early morning. The steady sound of the keyboard typing. Neil. An unauthorised smile welcomed itself onto your face as you stretched out the stiffness from the nap on the sofa. One look at the clock was enough to let you know how badly you have fucked it. 7:30. No more, no less. One question needing answering… why hasn’t he woken you?

You sat up, quietly folded the duvet, and glanced at Neil still slumped over the plans. He had his head propped on the hand, hair falling over his eyes, and fingers restlessly typing out the document. Next to him, there was an unfinished coffee and a half-eaten protein bar. With a flash of gratefulness, you noticed that apart from fetching the blanket for you, he also remembered to eat.

It was that affection and fondness that prompted you to sneak up on him and use up some of the many vengeance scenarios you have thought of. In a smooth move, you have covered the distance and threw your arms around his neck. A startled yelp he let out, only giving more conviction that this was the right maneuver.

“What-” the beginning of the question cut short when you kissed him on the neck.

Slowly savouring the taste of his skin, you placed your hands on his thighs, relishing in the feeling of the muscles tensing underneath the clothes. It was easy to become addicted to this kind of power. The rush of courage prodding you to graze your teeth over his skin. The answering groan and slight head tilt giving your more space for exploration, nothing but approval.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” giving him a breather, you asked the question.

There was no reason to acknowledge it in any way. He would understand you were sure of that. Before he could answer, you picked up the activity, trailing kisses down his neck, giving additional attention to the pulse points and spots that made him fidget in the chair.

“Could never,” the hoarse whisper complemented with his hands covering yours, “What are you doing?” the hint of uncertainty causing a wicked smirk to spread across your lips.

A teasing answer on the tip of your tongue when the unmistakable sound coming from the airlock shattered the moment.

“Well, well, well… good morning, lovebirds,” the familiar Cockney accent broke the silence with an impish edge tinting every syllable.

There was no point in fooling yourself that they have not caught what you have been doing. Still, with cheeks burning red, you took a definitive step back, away from Neil and faced the rest of the team with an awkward smile:

“Hi,” the word came out quiet, raspy voice bringing out even more embarrassment, “We’ve um…” you trailed off, gaze helplessly slipping over Wheeler and TP.

No help apart from a knowing grin on her face and an inquisitive look in his dark eyes. The pronoun you have used ringing out in the space. We. Correct, and yet strange. Because you knew that after a show like this, there would be no more pretending. Everything out and clear. But maybe that was better… Your increasingly more hectic thoughts got interrupted by the sound of the chair scraping the floor.

“Couldn’t sleep. So, we decided to start the planning. For the lock,” Neil finished your sentence and added an explanation on a long exhale.

Unable to deny yourself the pleasure, you glanced at him briefly. He took a step closer, throwing you a reassuring smile. His cheeks were still flushed after your earlier ministrations, hair ruffled and begging to be arranged. Maybe later.

“You’re one entity now?” the shameless staring got interrupted by another cheeky question by the squad leader.

Oh christ. Resisting the urge to facepalm, you fought hard to find an answer.

“No, but… I’m going in with Neil. To help and cover” the truth had to do.

After all, it was what Ives wanted from you. The final decision on the state of things. A way out of the impasse. A sleepless night seemed worth it. One look at the soldier told you the decision has surprised him. He turned to look at Neil, directing the next question at him:

“Alright… and you’re all prepared for that? No more drama?” the emphasis given to the last three words brought back all the traumatic meetings from mere days prior.

No more drama. At last, there was no reason to feel the fear rise at the mention of the war council. Maybe the worst was truly beyond you?

“Yes, we’ve talked it over” Neil confirmed your thoughts with resolution.

On its own accord, his hand brushed against yours, the gesture not escaping the attentive gaze fixed on both of you.

“Doubt that’s the only thing you did,” the comment whispered low enough to be caught by the three of you stood close.

Your face reddened as you understood the connotations. On the one hand, it was nothing to be ashamed of. On the other, the part of you that always hated being seen like that was close to lashing out. However, your boyfriend had your back.

“Ives,” Neil uttered the warning, shooting you a worried look.

That was enough this time, luckily. Without a shadow of remorse, Ives grinned and strolled over to sit at the head of the table. Nonchalance personified.

“Mind sharing what it is that you came up with?” he arched his eyebrow in an open invitation.

Alrighty. You glanced at Neil, a silent question on your lips instantly understood, and answered with a nod of the head in the direction of the whiteboard and your abandoned plans.

As TP and Wheeler took their seats around the table, you both took hold of the papers and arranged them to prepare the presentation. Then a short eye contact was enough to kick it off:

“We’ll go in” Neil uncapped the blue marker and drew two dots on the board.

“Inverted,” you added, gaze sweeping over the audience.

So far, comprehension has seemed to be maintained.

“Yes. We’ve figured out that 4 minutes might be enough to cover the distance from the drop-off zone” drawing the line indicating your route, he motioned for you to pick up the compound blueprint.

“And get into the hypocenter. Via this tunnel,” exchanging a small smile, you took hold of the paper and pointed at the alternate entrance.

“Different to the one you’ll be using in case something went wrong,” he explained, “Then I’ll pick the lock and open the gate” quiet confidence you have missed hearing tinting the sentence.

Maybe it could work out just right.

“While I make sure he’s safe and sound,” complementing his sentence, you took that one step closer to Neil.

Emboldened by the dynamic you have easily fallen into, you shot him a confident grin and placed your hand on his shoulder.

Suddenly being watched did not feel half that bad. As though he was following your logic, Neil winked at you and finished the presentation with a telling shrug:

“And we exit,” you enjoyed the way his eyes glimmered with conviction.

For once, it felt like it was not just you who wanted it to work. Perhaps the conversation made an impact on how he saw things. And now he was willing to fight for your future. Together. The sudden need to take his hand got interrupted with a neutral question coming from Wheeler:

“What if someone stops you?” the poker face masking the hints of concern you knew well.

“We can discuss that now” Neil grabbed the list he composed during your nap and opened his mouth to speak.

Not for long.

“Have you been rehearsing that?” Ives’s question made all of you snap back to him in an instant.

The witty smirk gracing his features was a cause for concern. Because you knew well what he meant. Feeling the wave of embarrassment wash out the bravado, you struggled for an answer:

“No… that’s just-” biting on your lip in search of words, you barely registered what happened.

“Chemistry” Neil smiled assuredly and took your hand in his without missing a beat.

As you faced him with wide eyes, he raised your palm to his lips and kissed the knuckles in a gentlemanly fashion.

That was certainly a memorable way of announcing your relationship. Probably better than a Facebook status. Then you did not have Neil befriended on that. Did he even have an account? For whatever reason, your tired brain decided to treat those types of issues as most important of all, fixating on bloody Facebook of all things.

“You alright?” the tightening hold on your hand combined with the worried undertone in the question made you drop the pointless thoughts in a second.

As you met Neil’s gaze, you mustered another smile and squeezed back his hand. The company did not matter he was everything you could see anyway.

“Yep, sorry. Just knackered,” you whispered the assertion, refusing to acknowledge the ridiculous questions.

However, judging by the scepticism in his face, you knew it was not getting brushed off eternally. The sound of a throat being cleared pointedly made you both turn back to the audience with apologetic smiles.

“Hate to interrupt your little conversation, but I think we should use your head-start and try to complete the plans” Ives stood up from the chair and strolled over to the blackboard.

Marker in hand. Things still needed looking into if you were to make this mission successful on all fronts. Sleep and tiredness would have to wait.

“Sure thing” you passed the soldier a weary nod and sat down on your chair with a quiet groan.

Sofas were not the ideal places to nap. Note to the future self. Before you could do as much as glance at the documents again, a passing remark made you look up with eyebrows knitted:

“Congrats, by the way,” Ives threw the words with a telling wink directed at you and Neil.

Does the torture ever end?

“… Thanks?” the frustration seeping through your tone as you added, “It’s not like we’re getting married or anything, though”

“Yet,” the husky voice on your right chimed in with just the right amount of cheekiness.

Naturally. You glared at Neil sharply, any intent or purpose forgotten once he met your gaze with that familiar affectionate look in his eyes. Might as well…

The next few hours were spent on making sure every part of the plan and the tactics made sense and fit with the rest. It meant more filter coffee (fifth cup? More likely than you think) and more marker smudges all over your hands and arms. On the chin, too, if you ever got too lost in staring at the blonde bastard to your right. Which did happen. Often.

The cause of your death was the assigned job of drawing out the tactics on the large block of paper spread across the table. It was well past noon when you had finished half of it, and the pounding headache only seemed to increase with each second spent on staring at the red and blue lines and dots covering the piece. Stuck with the especially tricky part of indicating your two special task units on the plan, you let the frustration boil over with one simple curse, breaking through the dam:

“...fuck me-” the rest of the sentence, saturated with even more annoyance, was never meant to be heard.

“I am,” the two words invited themselves into your intended message.

Your eyes widened as the culprit confidently approached your workstation and gave you a little pat on the head. What the fuck? From every available expletive, you knew in a few different languages nothing seemed to come to mind in the outrageous moment.

“Neil, I swear-” that had to do as you made sure to show him the extent of fury through the look in your eyes.

You did not even dare glance at the others, knowing that this was quite the scene. Hilarious.

“What? Everyone knows anyways” the feigned innocence in how he batted his eyelashes at you only increasing the frustration.

He did have a point they knew. Especially after something like this. Still.

“That’s not an excuse,” the steel-cold voice doing nothing against the playful sparks in the blue eyes.

It was in the way Neil pushed himself closer to you that you knew what was coming. The ultimate finale to your early morning banter. Showdown. He caught the bottom lip between the teeth and glanced up at you through the dark eyelashes. Nothing but allure personified.

“Am I gonna be punished for the disobedience?” he overenounciated the words with a challenging tilt to the tone.

All of the annoyance was gone, the prospects opening up with his question. Mirroring him, you nibbled on the lower lip, letting the permanent desire back into your gaze. It was easy when faced with someone like Neil.

“... perhaps,” the word whispered with the promising wink.

And a pat on the blonde head, for good measure.

You need not turn to look at the company to know who facepalmed at that.

[witchygirl99]

finding a photo of your enemy as a toddler, inukag

Ask, and you shall receive.

1800 words under the cut. Not edited. Written at work so it was a shoddy rush job and everything is very vague and you'll just have to accept this.

I'll write a proper, better video gamer AU one day. For now though...

Won't You Say (You Love Me, Too)

The thing is—

The thing is that Inuyasha isn’t meant to be here. Sure, he’s a little drunk. And sure, Koga’s stupid face dared him, because Koga is both stupid, has a face, and that face is stupid. Inuyasha didn’t have to listen, though. Inuyasha could have done a billion other things, like walk away, or laugh the dare off, or – or – could have even gotten himself another drink.

That… That would have been the smarter plan.

Inuyasha hiccups, flinching at the noise. He is so not supposed to be here.

“Inuyasha,” stupid Koga hisses from below. It’s probably supposed to be a whisper. It’s not. It’s like…quieter yelling, but yelling nonetheless.

Haughtily, Inuyasha glares down at his teammate. The window that he’s jimmied open to break into the Priestess House is still open. It’s unseasonably warm for an autumn night, but it’s strangely comforting. At least, Inuyasha thinks so. That could just be the alcohol talking, though.

“Inuyasha,” Koga hisses again, “what do you see?”

He blinks, frowns, and then squints into the dark room. There’s not a ton of illumination from either the moon, or the streetlights. He thinks, dimly, that this is a…bedroom? A bedroom. This is not, in fact, the office that they thought they were breaking into.

[Read the rest below the cut.]

He takes in a deep breath, brain pinging at him worriedly. He knows this scent. It’s familiar. Too familiar. Inuyasha should know whose room he’s in and it’s on the tip of his tongue – his nose? No, that’s not a saying – when Koga makes another hissing sound.

Ugh.

“What?” Inuyasha snarls, so desperate to glare out the window at his stupid teammate and at said stupid teammate’s face that he nearly stumbles. Bracing himself on the little table underneath, he makes a point to roll his eyes when the wolf demon waves alarmingly at him. “What is so urgent that you need to—”

“I hear them,” Koga whisper-yells, because he’s stupid. “They’re just down the street.”

“What?” he exclaims, but this time it’s desperate rather than irritated. “I thought Miroku said the girls would be gone for at least an hour.”

“Well, his intel is shit,” Koga replies. “Now get out!”

So much for sneaking into their offices to find out if any of their playing strategies would be visible. The regional gaming tournament is only two days away, and every single member of the six-person Priestess team has been dominating the competition. Their battle strategies have taken weaker characters and turned them into something surprisingly efficient. It should be impossible. Character stats don’t lie.

And yet. And yet. The women of the Priestess House have made a mockery of nearly everyone there. And the worst of them?

Kagome Higurashi. The absolute bane of his existence. She came onto the scene about three years ago, rising up the ranks. Inuyasha hadn’t even given her a second thought until The Incident last year.

The Incident, in which she—

“Inuyasha,” Koga hisses again, like an angry cat. A cat. Not a wolf. Inuyasha should tell him this. Inuyasha is desperate to tell him this. “You need to jump out the window, you fuck.”

Right. The Priestess girls were coming back. Kagome would be with them and that would be— That would be bad. Not just because of the breaking and entering, or the trespassing. It would be bad because Inuyasha would have to be around her for likely more than a minute, which would mean that he’d have to stare into those dark eyes and that too-kind smile – like they’re friends, which they are not – and then—

“For fuck’s sake, I’m going to leave you,” Koga states, and that finally drills through Inuyasha’s pretty drunk skull. Can skulls be drunk?

No?

Maybe.

“I’m coming,” Inuyasha replies, pushing upwards, but he’s an idiot. The table underneath him isn’t that sturdy, and so his pressure on it to climb back out the window from which he entered sends a picture frame crashing to the ground.

“Inuyasha!”

“Oh my god, say my name one more time and I will murder you!” Inuyasha snaps. Koga is not helping, that fucking fuck. “Hold the fuck on, we can’t let them know—” And he bends down to grab the frame and put it back. Hopefully whoever’s room this is won’t notice.

And then he sees the picture in the frame, practically mocking him. It’s fucking Kagome Higurashi, no more than four years old and clinging to a small baby who looks distinctly unhappy by the entire experience. It’s undoubtedly her. While there’s more chub to her cheeks, those are the same sparkling eyes and that’s the same beaming smile. He would know that smile anywhere because it always makes him feel off-balance, confused. No one just smiles at people, at strangers. No one just smiles at you while they’re getting destroyed in one-on-one battle, and then shakes your hand with that same happy smile when they’ve lost. They don’t use that exact same smile when they see you again later in the year, at another tournament, and only stop smiling when they beat you so badly—

Oh god.

Oh fucking god.

This is Kagome’s bedroom. This is Kagome’s bedroom and he’s in her room and—

Kagome Higurashi at four years old smiles the exact same way, and she’s clinging to a little boy and that’s a big purple dinosaur right beside her on the couch. A dinosaur. She likes dinosaurs, oh god this is the worst—

“Godspeed, fucker,” Koga whispers-yells. “We hardly knew ye!” There’s the distinct sound of bushes rustling. His own teammate has abandoned him. Inuyasha is going to commit murder.

Firmly putting down the picture frame, Inuyasha starts the careful climb back out the window. He’s got one leg out, half of his body strained to reach the little lip in the brickwork he climbed up earlier. His hands grab at the sill, twisting him, and then he sees it.

It.

The purple dinosaur.

It’s on her bed, perfectly placed and disgustingly cute.

“Oh no,” Inuyasha groans, and then promptly shoves himself out the window. It takes him ten precious seconds to balance, and then another ten seconds to close the window and hide the fact he ever broke in in the first place. At the first sound of voices, Inuyasha freezes against the brick, propped up in a little corner and distinctly not looking down. It’s not a far drop, but the last thing Inuyasha needs is to lose his balance, topple into the garden, and then have the Priestess women come running to see what the fuck happened.

He waits, breath nearly held, until they start opening the door. There’s enough fuss and discussion that Inuyasha feels safe in making his escape, running away like the hounds of hell are chasing him. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t look back.

When he finds Koga, lounging on the couch and drinking yet another beer at their shared gaming house, it takes a solid ten seconds of very slow counting to remind himself that murder is bad.

Besides, they have a tournament to win on Saturday.

X+X

The next day, Inuyasha finds himself looking for purple dinosaurs on Amazon.

This is, well, not ideal.

“What are you doing?” Hachi asks, eyes narrowed in confusion and then widening in concern when Inuyasha flinches to hide this embarrassing lack of restraint. “Wow, okay.”

“Fuck off,” Inuyasha replies, but he’s too mortified to even make it mean-sounding. He just comes off as pathetic.

There’s a snort in the doorway, and Miroku comes bumbling in with a clipboard. He takes his duties as team manager far too seriously. “What did Hachi do wrong now?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Hachi replies, eyeing Inuyasha again. “He’s the one that went all crazy when I asked him what he was doing.”

“And what was he doing?” Miroku presses. He’s grinning like a fool because he’s the worst. The worst best friend a guy could ask for. Inuyasha doesn’t know why he’s teammates with these idiots. It’s bad enough he’s got to deal with Koga.

“I wasn’t do anything,” he tries, but Hachi’s just shaking his head.

“Looking at his phone. I don’t know.”

Miroku turns to him, a shark that smells blood in the water. “Your phone? Who are you texting?”

“No one,” Inuyasha scoffs. “Fuck off.”

This gets a nod, and he has one moment of hope that Miroku won’t push the issue when his best friend hums. “You’re right. You have no friends outside of this team.”

“I’m not his friend!” Koga yells from somewhere else in the house.

Inuyasha sighs.

“So you must have been watching something.”

“No,” Hachi argues, “he was holding his phone like this. He was reading something, or maybe scrolling?”

“Inuyasha can’t read!” comes Koga’s voice again. They all ignore him.

“You’re not on Instagram,” Miroku hums, playing fucking Sherlock Holmes. “And you’re definitely not on TikTok. Discord is just another form of talking to people, so that’s out.”

Growling, he shoves his phone in the pocket of hoodie and gets up. “I am leaving.”

“Ooh, he’s leaving,” his friend continues, blue eyes alight with something dangerously close to glee. “Fuck, it has to be about Kagome then. That’s the only time you get this pissy.”

“Ha!” Hachi laughs because he, too, is the worst.

“That’s my future wife!” Koga yells from the other room, but that’s just because he’s delusional. As if someone like Koga could fucking rub two braincells together enough to impress her. Inuyasha’s face does a thing at the very thought.

“Oh my god, it is!” Miroku cackles.

“No,” Inuyasha answers, and he thinks he does a pretty good job of remaining calm. “But fuck you, anyways.”

“Are you reading her Wikitubia again?” his friend asks and that is it—

“One time!” Inuyasha yells, storming away from the main room. “That was one time!”

His teammates’ laughter follows him all the way back to his bedroom. Shippo, rubbing at his eyes after his nap – because he acts like a literal child, it’s embarrassing – just stares at him confusedly. “What did I miss?”

Inuyasha doesn’t stop walking. “Absolutely fucking nothing.” He gets into his room, shuts the door with a disturbing amount of care, and then leaps onto his bed to try and suffocate himself with a pillow. The walls of their gaming house aren’t that thick. If he tries hard enough, Inuyasha could hear the shit they’re undoubtedly still talking about him.

One time, Inuyasha pathetically whines in his head. He was only caught staring at her Wikitubia page one time. He was sizing up the enemy. Looking for weaknesses to exploit. That’s the only reason he did it. Just like that’s the only reason he watches her YouTube videos religiously, at least once a day, and always at night once everyone else has fallen asleep.

It’s not because of anything weird. It’s because she’s the enemy. She’s the competition. Inuyasha must figure out a way to destroy her.

Later that night, when he goes back to re-watching an old YouTube video of hers – one Kagome had posted within the first month of her rise to so-called fame – that he sees it.

It.

The purple dinosaur.

Sitting propped up on some pillows, like a prized treasure.

“Motherfucker,” Inuyasha snaps. He doesn’t stop the video, though. There could be secrets. Weaknesses to exploit. Yadda yadda yadda, he’s not in denial, this is only his third time watching it, blah blah—

Kagome smiles in the video and his chest does the thing.

Inuyasha sighs. Miroku can never, ever see his browsing history.

X+X

Tagging: @ideasthatbuildcities​ @wolfcry77​ @alerialblu​ @misspepperpottss​ @sailorbabydoll92​ @willowandfog​ @amethystablaze​ @fawn-eyed-girl​ @noyourenotreal​ @hnn-wnchstr​ @liz8080​ @nsr0716​ @superpixie42​ @itzatakahashi​ @mandirox89​ @inussunflower​ @cstormsinukagblog​ @nartista​ @hopidoodle​ @princessinume​ @lavendertwilight89​ @anxietyaardvark​ @omgitscharlie​ @theinuyashareader​ @ruddcatha​ @umacaking​ @kagometaishostory​ @cammysansstuff​ @sacred-arrow-writes @sacred-arrow @gicu2 @neutronstarchild @kalcia

[mrskurono]

Aphrodisiac Pt. 1 // ft. Kageyama + Seijoh

tags: drugs/aphrodisiac usage, noncon (Iwaizumi), slight dacryphilia (Kindaichi), vaginal penetration, handjobs, edging, orgasm denial, slight femdom, noncon photography (Oikawa), footjob, degradation, pet talk, creampie, mommy ish kink (Kageyama)

character(s): Tobio Kageyama (hq), Hajime Iwaizumi (hq), Toru Oikawa (hq), Yūtarō Kindaichi (hq)

Tobio Kageyama 

⇾ Oh Tobio

⇾ He thought you were giving him the opportunity to take care of you all strung out and fun

⇾ But the way he downs his spiked little treat is a testament to how much you knew he needed to unwind for a bit 

⇾ The way his face unscrunches and he’s left like a paralyzed star fish on your bed is the cutest thing you’ve seen in a while honestly

⇾ What might be cuter than that?

⇾ Oh the way he keeps trying to get on top of you and grind into you with that desperate excuse of a hard on he’s whimpering about

⇾ He goes from zero affection to climbing all over you in mere minutes that he’s complaining of being warm and tingly

⇾ “My...everything...and warm.”

⇾ Nothing out of his mouth makes sense even if he’s trying to talk, he won’t stop babbling which turns really into a mess of moans even at your slightest touch

⇾ Now though he isn’t fighting your lips ghosting over his neck, or the way you shift your hands under his shirt, no he is willingly leaning into everything you do to him as he moans up a storm

⇾ He can’t have all the fun and with the way he reacted the second your leg brushed over his crotch when you shifted? Clearly something else needed to be taken care of

⇾ Kageyama is completely useless like this save for the energy he keeps to hide his face every time you tell him how cute he is from above 

⇾ Straddling his lap bringing your core against his cock

⇾ His eyes half lidded as his fingers tangle in his own hair and he bites his lip watching you

⇾ “Do you want something?” “How badly does my baby boy want it?” “You’re just so hard like this~”

⇾ All the teasing and Kageyama is a red faced mess as he grinds his hips up into you like it’ll do anything

⇾ Finally you decide to indulge him though, it’s a treat for both of you

⇾ Sinking down on his cock as he stretches you out and hits your deepest parts 

⇾ Kageyama is a mess under you with his jaw slack and a bit of drool oozing from his mouth

⇾ You do him a favor and wipe up his mouth with your thumb but you notice he tries to follow your touch

⇾ As needy as he is you grin and pop your thumb in his mouth, feeling his tongue swirl around your digit and his eyes roll back in his head

⇾ Kageyama is a mess under you each time you shift your hips and grind into him, his sucking piss poor and mostly he’s drooling over your hand

⇾ Instead you pop it out of him mouth and make him watch as you bring your spit covered hand to your clit

⇾ “I’ll get off with your spit, maybe it’ll make me feel all nice and warm too~”

⇾ He is entranced, be it half lidded, by watching you play with yourself on him

⇾ Moving here and there to feel his cock inside you, its for nothing as you deny him most of the pleasure when you bring yourself to an orgasm just by yourself

⇾ The way you tighten around him and your walls flutter like they want to suck all his cum, Kageyama whimpers and tries to rut up into you like he can even move

⇾ “Shhh, you’re next, I’ll make sure you feel good too baby boy.”

Yūtarō Kindaichi

⇾ This idiot will be easy to talk into trying something fun, genuinely it takes one bat of your eyelashes and Kindaichi does what you want even if he doesn’t know how he feels about it

⇾ Show a bit of skin and he’ll do anything ok he can be simple at times

⇾ Kindaichi doesn’t down it like an idiot though he’s apprehensive to eat/drink it too quickly

⇾ Once he gets down to the last part of it though, and he’s feeling pretty warm and fuzzy, then he shoves/drinks the rest of it in him like he forgets he was apprehensive about it

⇾ Skin on fire, words slurred and half lidded Kindaichi wants nothing more than to have your hands on him

⇾ Asking repeatedly for you to touch him even if your hands are already on him

⇾ Not to mention he’s extra talkative, like, there is no way to get him to shut up and he keeps talking no matter what you do

⇾ Real touchy feely which would be annoying, if, it didn’t mean he’s overly sensitive everywhere else

⇾ “I’m feeling so weird....Please, I want more I-” “No no no, I think you’ve had enough silly boy.” “Please.”

⇾ The way he leans up into your touch when you draw your hands down his chest is wonderful, he’s such a pile of putty it’s pathetic 

⇾ Kindaichi will whimper and make the most delightful noises the entire time that it makes it difficult for you not to get turned on

⇾ Luckily the feeling is mutual though as his hard on was visible through his shorts almost the moment he complained about being warm

⇾ “Come here.”

⇾ Like a puppy dog Kindaichi is ready to do anything you want even if his gross motor skills are a little less than perfect

⇾ Completely useless though its up to you to really get what you want, wrapping your legs around his hips when he poorly tries to push himself inside you

⇾ Giggling at him rubbing against you like a horny puppy with little to show for it besides your juices covering his cock and Kindaichi whining about how warm he feels 

⇾ Help him though and he can hardly keep on his knees

⇾ Moaning like a fool as you position him at your entrance and pull him into you with your legs behind him as leverage

⇾ Kindaichi is panting with his arms on either side of you, barely keeping himself up, face red all the way to his ears and lips slightly parted panting 

⇾ You have to remind him to move, encouraging words cooing at him 

⇾ “Go on puppy, move for me.” “Lemme see how much you want it.” “Make me feel how warm you are~”

⇾ His thrusts are sloppy, Kindaichi rutting into you and moaning up a storm, everything on him tingling on fire as he can’t find anything to satisfy it

⇾ You push up against him just to lock your legs around his hips and do the same with your arms around his neck

⇾ Gasping a bit he lays almost entirely on you but his limbs are too heavy to move as he ruts into you with desperation

⇾ “You wanna cum hmm~?” “Please-” “How badly do you wanna cum?” “So badly!”

⇾ The way he overstims himself is adorable as Kindaichi grinds into you, tears pricking the corners of his eyes, chasing his own orgasm like its the last thing on earth

⇾ He just can’t take it anymore, the way you tighten around him and the feeling of your fingertips grazing his neck, there’s no way for him to keep his wits about him

⇾ Kindaichi is a sobbing mess as he buries his face in your neck and can’t help paint your insides white with all his cum

⇾ Sweet talking him all the way through it as you push your hips up to meet his 

⇾ You’d almost be mad if he wasn’t clinging to you for dear life with his cock still buried inside you

⇾ Lucky for you he’s not going soft after just one little fluke~

Hajime Iwaizumi

⇾ You will not, and I repeat, will not get Iwa to take anything willingly.

⇾ But he just looks so stressed lately? Work/College is too much, he’s being stubborn and he just needs to...unwind.

⇾ Iwa doesn’t suspect anything when you bring him his favorite drink

⇾ “It’s open?” “Yeah I took a drink of it can I not?”

⇾ He doesn’t have an issue sharing with his s/o so of course he’ll accept it! You’re not Oikawa so he trusts you at face value

⇾ Your eyes go big as he downs the entire bottle in one go around

⇾ The little something you put in his drink hits him the fastest (what do you expect when he just gulped it down in one breath?)

⇾ “My bodies warm-” “Why are my cheeks flushed?” “Am I sick damn it.”

⇾ Yeah it doesn’t last long before Iwa is silent but the clingiest you’ve ever seen him

⇾ Grabbing at your waist, palming your hips and pressing into you no matter what you do he is draped over you like a giant ragdoll and he is so relaxed

⇾ Unlike some of the others, he isn’t much of a talker all strung out like this

⇾ Actually it’s like he has laser focus and suddenly all he can see is you, tunnel vision to the max

⇾ Has no idea how to help himself though his limbs are so heavy and all he can do is press his lips against your neck thinking he’s kissing on you

⇾ Utterly useless hunk but the tent he pops in his pants the second you move your hands over his chest?

⇾ Well worth it

⇾ Iwa’s moans are immaculate seeing as he normally only keeps to grunts and a few words

⇾ Now though he is red from the bridge of his nose to the tips of his ears and he has no idea the puddle of mush he is in your hands 

⇾ Grumbling every time your hands run through his hair or touch his face; he wants more but can’t vocalize it

⇾ Taking it into your own hands as his grabby touch and firm grasp on every inch of you is a delightful turn on

⇾ “Shhh, lay back baby it’s fine.”

⇾ Iwa is staring up at you with such a dazed look that it almost makes you wish you did this earlier

⇾ Gripping his sides and grinding down on him is adorable as Iwa’s arms hang above his head, gripping the sheets under him, eyes glazed over staring up at you while he’s unable to move a single muscle in his beautifully toned body

⇾ For someone who’s incredibly fit, he can’t fight anything you want to do to him

⇾ So when you decide you want a little moment to relax yourself, Iwa is a grinning mess the second he feels the warmth of you slit slide up his cock

⇾ He’s so hard it’s almost pathetic

⇾ But the way he feels nestled inside you and he can’t even move his hands up to touch you is such a sight to see

⇾ Iwa is bubbling with moans anytime you shift on his cock, he’s like your own personal toy like this

⇾ Hands pressed to his chest you can go at your leisure riding him, Iwa twisting and turning under you as he stares up at you with a stupid grin

⇾ “Warm.” “Shh I’ll make you feel good too baby.” “Hehe warm all over.”

⇾ You’ll ride him until you feel his abs tense under your palms, a clear cut sign he’s gonna loose it even if he has no idea what’s going on

⇾ “Not yet.”

⇾ You wanna enjoy the fun a little bit more so the moment you pull him out of you, Iwa makes the saddest whimper as his perfect warmth is gone but it’s well worth it as you steal a kiss

⇾ Open mouthed, needy Iwa trying to suck on your tongue, ignoring the fact you just ruined his orgasm, this is well worth how much trouble you’ll get in later

Toru Oikawa

⇾ You can and will convince Toru to eat something, doesn’t matter what it is bc enough goating and he will fucking eat/drink the entire thing at once

⇾ Really you just wanted to see him maybe a little giggly but this, phew, this is another level

⇾ Clingy doesn’t begin to explain him

⇾ Toru is like a puppy dog but with such an inappropriate touch you’re left to wonder if he’s thinking about this all the time but is composed enough not to

⇾ “Kiss, I want a kiss!” “Lemma touch-” “I’m so tingly everywhere~”

⇾ Grabbing at your shirt hem, running his hands up under your blouse, hooking his fingers in your waistband, he doesn’t care how unsightly it comes off all he knows is he loves the feeling of your skin brushing his

⇾ Now at least when he won’t shut up it’s in the form of babbling incoherent thoughts that honestly are kinda cute

⇾ Mister Hot Stuff suddenly the begging drooling fanboy at your feet gives you a power rush like none other

⇾ If his stupid fangirls could see him now, on his knees, brown hair pushed off his blushing face, a string of drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he looks up at you half lidded, it’s beautiful

⇾ All this talking and you’re wondering if you can shut him up

⇾ “Suck them.”

⇾ Toru’s lips clamp around your fingers, eagerly if you might note, and his eyes close as he leans into your touch to take your fingers down to your last knuckle

⇾ “So needy.”

⇾ You press down on his tongue, force another finger in his mouth, tilt his face up to you, it doesn’t matter Toru sucks on your fingers with enthusiasm and a half lidded glazed over look up at you

⇾ This could go on forever really, maybe just a picture to save the occasion...

⇾ “Smile babe.”

⇾ Toru’s cheek dopey grin with your fingers pressing down on his tongue, you encourage him to open wide and maybe just snap one more for good measure

⇾ As eager as he is, it’s easy to see his excitement travel down below the waist

⇾ His cock standing at attention with the cutest wet spot in his shorts, you wonder if you just touch it lightly with your foot if he’ll-

⇾ “Mmphm~!” 

⇾ The muffled moan on your fingers gives you the biggest rush in the world and you can’t help as you press your foot into his clothed cock

⇾ Toru really is a mess as he nurses your fingers and his hips jolt just ever so slightly when your foot grinds into him

⇾ “You’re so hard...and just for my foot? Soiling your shorts like that too...”

⇾ The more depraved your words are the harder he sucks, the fuck is loving this degradation to its fullest

⇾ Tied up in the way Toru’s tongue swirls around your fingers and the heat growing between your own legs, you nearly miss it if he hadn’t groaned so loudly

⇾ Toru cumming all from just your foot grinding against his cock, his cum seeping through his shorts and the groan vibrating on your fingers as his eyes shut tight and he inadvertently gags himself on your fingers

⇾ A wasted mess he’s drooling down his chin after gagging, brown eyes fixated up at you as he really doesn’t know what happened

⇾ It’s quite alright as the tent remaining in his pants means your fun has just began

[ellitx]

💚 anon said: Angry yan-ish Himmel? Now let’s give him something to be angry about~

submission

TW: fighting, cursing, smut, blood, slight Bennet slander, OOC Albedo possessive yan-ish behavior

The year-end assignment was coming up and you and Himmel were standing side by side waiting for Prof. Zhongli to assign partners, giving each other hopeful gazes and crossing your fingers.

“Chongyun and Xingqiu… Keqing and Ganyu… Y/n and Albedo… and Bennet and Himmel, please go to your assigned seats and begin please…” Himmel’s world seemed to pause as he held his breath. 

‘Y/n and Albedo… Y/N AND ALBEDO!? That guy’s gonna steal her away… any glance he gives anyone makes them swoon…’ He thought in a shocking state. All he could do is stand there and watch you walk away with Albedo by your side as you give him a solemn glance, not even noticing his own ‘partner’ waving in his face to get his attention. 

“Uhh, you okay there…?” Himmel flinches and focuses his mind back on the present moment. 

“We’re gonna be partners! You ready to go?” Bennet gleamed. An optimistic smile sent to Himmel’s way. “Yeah… let’s go…” He sighed out, slowly making his way towards his table and shooting you a side-eye glance. 

“I’m sorry…” you mouth to him, only getting a shrug in return.

‘Great, just great… He put them together and not us. And I’m stuck with the guy with the 2nd lowest GPA in the class on top of Mr. Pretty boy sitting with my songbird… he better not dar—’ 

His thoughts were cut off and his eyes widened as he watched Albedo lean in closer to you. He was sitting one table behind you so there’s that at least, so he kept a watchful eye and open ear to your conversation, not once breaking focus not caring about the academic subject matter at hand. It made him sick having to watch Albedo completely devour you with his gaze, even watching him glaze his eyes over your exposed thighs.

“Hmm this all seems to be lining up quite nicely, you seem to be the most applicable partner Y/n~” Albedo complimented in his ever so buttery tone. “U-uh yeah you too! Thanks!” You stammer out awkwardly getting more and more uncomfortable.

Bouncing his leg quickly and leaning his head on his palm covering his mouth to try and keep composure, watching the both of you made him vile. Watching all of Albedo’s ways of trying to finesse you wasn’t working and was making his blood boil, seeing his darling put in such a spot.

“So may I perhaps get your number? For further discussion about the project, or maybe there are other matters you’d like to discuss?” he cooed. His question flustered you and you turned around to silently ask knowing Himmel had heard everything “What do I do?” You mouth to him.

“So what’ll it be Sunflower-” The nickname made you shudder.

Hearing this snapped something within Himmel, quickly standing to his feet and slamming his hands on the desk. “What is your fucking issue?! Can’t you see she’s clearly uncomfortable?!” Himmel shouted, drawing the whole classroom’s attention towards him in silent awe. 

Zhongli sighed, “Himmel please return to your seat, I’ll let you off with a warning that knowing you are usually very obedient. But next time there will be consequences…” He said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Embarrassed and even more upset hearing Albedo’s sly cackling.

Not soon after did the bell ring, all students scramble for the door except for you. You were going straight to Himmel. “I-I’m so sorry about all of this, maybe we can—” He pulls you in and holds you so tightly it’s almost suffocating. “Where’s Albedo..?” He breathes out. His breath ragged and hot against the skin of your neck “Umm maybe in the hallway…” you look up at him concerned.

“That’s all I need to know…” He kisses your temple and storms off.

“Himmel wait!!” You chased after him but were late due to having to gather your things. But one thing for certain is the loud yelling and banging you can hear along with a few students chanting: “Fight, fight, fight!”

You rushed to where the commotion is and try to make your way through the ever-growing crowd.

“You cocky piece of shit!! How dare you go and borderline harass her?!” You heard Himmel yell. You stood there wide-eyed with shock, going completely stiff. Both Himmel and Albedo had hands on each other, faces bloodied, with Himmel shoving Albedo against the corner wall. 

“Oh, and what does it matter to you, you’re nothing more than a childhood friend!” Albedo snapped.

You quickly snap out of your frozen state to try to break things up before they could escalate. “STOP IT…! PLEASE WHAT HAS GOTTEN INTO YOU?!” you shout with tears begging to form as you rush over to them. “C’mon Himmel, let’s go…” you pull on his sleeve to get him to pull away, and in this moment of courage you speak back to Albedo.

“For one, I am his girlfriend. And two, don’t you ever call me or anyone of that matter 'Sunflower’ ever again. Go. Get out here…” you quietly sob, leaving Albedo off.

Later settling yourselves in an old empty classroom to escape the crowd, most of the students and teachers had left for the day which was lucky, but you wanted to lay low for a bit while you tended to Himmel’s wounds. 

"You okay…?” You softly say while wiping away at the blood on his face. “I’m sorry Y/n. I’m honestly… just so scared to lose you to someone like him… so when I saw him make advances on you I couldn’t control myself…” He said with clear self-disappointment. 

“It’s okay. I just don’t wanna see it ever again… especially how easily you get sick, Himmel.” you say, pulling him to hold him close with him burying his head into your shoulder, squeezing you tightly. “I love you so much Y/n… I wanna show everyone you’re mine..” He whispers while starting to slowly nip and suck at your neck and pulling you into his lap. 

“Mmm… H-Himmel… W-what what if we get caught..?” You say instinctually wrapping both your arms and legs around him. “Honestly hope it happens, then no one would dare question us again~” He cooed pulling more of your supple skin through his teeth intending to leave beautifully dark marks. This causes you to grip onto him and bite your lip to keep yourself quiet. 

All the while Himmel’s hands started wandering downwards. Firstly running over your breast then down your sides then finally settling on your hips and tightly gripping them. “Mmm… Y/n it’s so unfair how the system makes you wear such revealing attire~ your beautiful form should be for our eyes only, you don’t know how much I hold myself back from taking you…” you didn’t think your face could get any hotter than it was but his breathy words right onto your ear made you weak. And at this point, you didn’t even care if you get caught. You needed him is all you could think of.

“Haa… then don’t, my love. Take me. Mark me. I’m forever and always yours, Himmel~” you say, slightly shifting your weight in his lap and grinding against him. Upon hearing your words, he almost instantly complied— placing a hand on your face to kiss you with such desperation it felt like it was going to be his last. His tongue was exploring every part of your mouth. 

Feeling him grow stiff under you, you began to move your hips on his clothed member, with him grinding against your soaked heat in tandem. 

“Mmm…! More… nng~ I want you so bad it hurts…!” You said looking at him with doe-like eyes. Himmel couldn’t resist letting his hand under your skirt and pulling your panties to the side and sliding two slender digits along your folds. “Ahh my love you’re already so wet… let me help you~” he whispers as he slowly begins to pump his fingers into you, curling them just right along with his thumb and swirling your clit to bring you pure ecstasy.

“Nngg…! Himmel s-so good ahh!!” You could feel him smirk into your skin. 

“Yes, my songbird~ I’m the only one that takes you there… not anyone or anything else…” His motions continued as you reached to undo his belt and pull out his shaft to try to please him in turn. “Mmm! Y/n… Haa~ I wanna feel your heat so bad…!” He moaned against you, only increasing the pace of his fingers as he felt every part of your inner walls he could even reach and rubbing the tip of your cervix, winding you tighter and tighter until… 

“Haa! Himmel I-I’m right there..!” Biting onto his shoulders and gripping onto him for some sort of stability as you release all onto his hand.

Shaking and coming down from your high, he slowly removed his fingers and licked your essence off of them. “Ever sweet my love~ now which one is Albedo’s desk?” Himmel asked with a smirk. You turned your head and pointed to the one in the back of the class. 

“I-I think it’s this one.” he smiles then picks you up and gently lays you. Stomach down and legs dangling over the other side. “You alright like this Y/n?” He lovingly looks down while turning his head to kiss you once more and you nod.

“Mhmm… thank you.”

He slowly pulled down your soaked panties whilst positioning himself behind you and lined his length up with your core and left himself there for a moment waiting for your permission. “Just let me know when, love…” you nod again and grip onto the edge of the desk as he slowly pushes himself within you. 

You both let out shaky moans as he filled you and stretched your walls. “Ahhh! You’re so tight…! You fit so perfectly around me…!

He began to slowly thrust into you, fully in and fully out, bending all the way over you and wrapping his arms around you to securely hold you close, leaving small kisses and love bites on your neck and shoulders. 

"Nnng!! Himme— Ahh…! More~!” you moaned out, feeling yourself clench around him.

“Y/n..! Don��t do that..! I can’t hold myself back… I need more!” He moaned deeply right into your ear while vastly increasing his pace, gripping onto your hips harder that completely clouded him with desire as he rutted into you with such force it makes your vision go white. 

“W-wait!! I- Ahhh…!” With each thrust, it shoots electric bliss through you. It’s so good all you could think of is how you wanted him to spill all of his white hot seed inside of you, and how each push hit your sweet spot every time. You could feel it creeping up on you again, your walls squeezing around him even tighter wanting to milk him for all he had. 

“H-Himmel—  I’m gonna— ahh!!” You almost yelled if it weren’t for you shoving a part of your shirt in your mouth to stifle yourself. 

“Yes, my sweet!! I– hng… I love you so much please! I’m so close!" 

And with just a few more thrust, you come unto him once more spilling everything you had onto the table and with him pulling out and shooting all of his seed onto the same spot. You slowly lift yourself off the desk and lean yourself onto him, until you notice he’s dragging his hand through your mixed essence to form the words: "She’s mine”

“"Just a childhood friend.” We’ll see about that~” he said with a smirk.

—

(to jail i go -💚)

[baepsaesbae]

Office Hours

Pairing— Kim Namjoon x female reader

Genre— Smut, pwp, college au

Warnings— Inappropriate student/professor relationship, fingering, spanking, oral (male), dirty talk

Word count— ~3k

Summary— You visit your professor’s office hours to seek some help

A/N— Happy Birthday Namjoon! Fun fact: this story was the first time I ever attempted to write smut. Huge thank you to @taemaknae for making this pretty banner for me! Enjoy~

It’s just for the grade. Just for the grade. The words paced back and forth across your mind in the same chaotic motions that your own emotions took on. You made your way up the steps of the history hall, towards Professor Kim’s office. All your nerves were hyper aware of the surrounding and each step was deafening, threatening to pop your eardrums. The nervousness of it all flushed your cheeks with a warm glow that slowly grew into an uncontrollable forest fire.

And then it all climaxed as you stood at the closed door of Professor Kim’s office. Your heart skipped and sputtered and protested, but you vowed to push onward. It was just a meeting with a professor. No biggie, you tried to reassure yourself.

But the little angel on your right shoulder (the one you had always ignored up until now), whispered in your ear about how you got yourself into this predicament. Y/n, the social butterfly and socialite-to-be, was, admittedly, a flirt. Of course, this had always gotten you into predicaments that often left more to be desired, but they always resolved themselves. Besides, if you couldn’t concoct a solution for yourself, your parents always helped out their little. They both came from money so old the corners of the bills were fraying. But this time was different; this time you bit off more than you could chew. This time your parents wouldn’t be there to bail you out.

It all started the same way as always: with you being the ever flamboyant ___ and locking your eyes on the target of your next fling. Professor Kim Namjoon was a young professor, one with the worn down charm of an old bike, and he had just started teaching at your university. His hair was dark and fell in delicate waves, and his face was charmingly disheveled by the cute glasses he always wears. You knew since the first day of class that he would be your newest toy, and what’s more? You were tired of the boys your age.

Now, you were here, three months later, facing the door that led to the mess you created. Just for a grade. Your shaky hand knocked a nervous knock, one that begged the person on the other side to not open the door.

“Come in,” you heard his voice from the other side of the door.

God dammit why did I do this to myself? you thought. Although you had been quite flirty with Professor Kim ever since the semester started, any romantic interactions with him had all been just a fantasy. Well, romantic OR sexual interactions.

You put on your best smile in an attempt of exuding false confidence before opening the door. Once inside the office, you locked eyes with Professor Kim. He was wearing a light blue button up shirt with a cute tie that had a colorful paisley pattern. His black glasses were simple but only added to his charm. You began to wonder who chose the tie, whether it was him or maybe a significant other when your train of thought was interrupted.

“Ah, Miss ___. How are you? I assume you’re here to ask about the final paper? Please, sit down,” Professor Kim flashed you a smile. It was the type of smile that would have women of all ages swooning.

“Ah yes! I uh, have a rough draft that I wanted to review with you. If you have the time. I’m not sure if I’m addressing the prompt properly. I think I had an issue with that on the last essay,” you began to explain.

“Of course we can do that. Office hours are specifically set aside for students anyway. Whether that be for academic purposes or...other things…” his voice suddenly got lower and dropped off before he continued with his usual cadence, “Anywho, let’s take a look at your paper!”

You nodded and tried not to pay any mind to his odd remark. You chalked it up to him just not knowing how to end his sentence. You whipped out a printed rough draft and slid it over to Professor Kim. You found it more beneficial to make revisions on physical paper. You both sat in silence as he began to read your essay.

After what felt like the larger portion of a decade, Professor Kim’s eyes rose from the paper to meet yours, and they were murky with a mixture of amusement and something a bit darker. Your heart skipped as you scanned the dark brown pools for confirmation that what you had read in his eyes was a brewing lust.

“Miss ___, you have a fine craft for writing history papers don’t you?” his lips tugged at the corners into a charming half grin, “Have you written anyone’s papers for them for profit?”

You let out a breathy laugh that betrayed your false confidence, “Um, sir?”

He chuckled, “Just messing with ya. Lighten up, Miss ___.”

Again, you let out a breathy laugh and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, an annoying habit you had picked up when you were nervous (though it was rare anyone ever saw you nervous).

“S-sorry, sir,” you wanted to kick yourself for being such a wuss in front of him. I am ___, and I’m not supposed to lose my nerves!

Before you could collect your feelings, you felt your heart chase up your throat when Professor Kim suddenly leaned in and the distance between you two went from close to very close. You could smell the light musk of his cologne, a lovely scent that folded itself into a strange warmth in your chest.  Perhaps it was Aqua di Gio? A man of taste, you noted to yourself.

“You’re quite the social butterfly in lecture, and yet here you are stuttering,” he chuckled, his eyes betrayed nothing except a shadow of lust. You could almost see your own nestled desire in your reflection on his glasses. “Tell me, ___. Why are you really here? Surely, an excellent writer like yourself wouldn’t need my guidance on such an elementary paper?”

As if his direct confrontation wasn’t enough to send you into a frenzy, Namjoon’s hand shot out to tap the tip of your nose teasingly. You felt your lips part, in an unconscious expectation for him to run his fingers along them. He didn’t, but you could hear him chuckle again.

“I’m not quite sure,” you spoke, and as you continued to speak, you felt your confidence- your real confidence- sink back in, “I just thought it would be...entertaining. One for the books?” You even allowed a single eyebrow to make its way up, challenging him.

Professor Kim leaned in even closer, until his lips almost (but not quite) brushed your ear, “Go make sure the door is locked, Miss ___.” His breath was warm, and the musk of his cologne grew stronger, caressing you invitingly, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to reject it.

Slowly, you stood up from your seat to the door before turning the lock with a quick, deliberate movement. Your breath came in quick bursts, your legs pressed together tightly as you made your way back to the desk, and, for the first time since entering his office, your face slowly cracked into a slight, sly smile.

Professor Kim was leaning back in his chair, as if the situation hadn’t taken a turn at all. His calm demeanor put you on edge, especially when he beckoned you over to him with one finger. You arched a brow and smirked at his boldness, but nonetheless made your way to him. Raising the stakes, you plopped into his lap, straddling one of his thighs.

“Did I say sit down, Miss ___?” Professor Kim’s voice was deeper now, and the light aura about him had vanished.

You were taken by surprise and didn’t know how to react. Before you could reply, Professor Kim leaned in to whisper in your ear, “From now on, you'll do as you’re told, understand? Only good girls get rewarded.”

That sent chills down your spine. All the boys that you’ve been with before had tried to put on a dominant act. Some of them were more convincing than others, but none of them were as authentic as this. Your excitement grew and you became cheeky because of it.

“What if I wanna be a bad girl?” you teased, trying to place a kiss on Professor Kim’s neck.

“Then you can get the fuck out of my office,” Professor Kim said abruptly, and pushed you off his lap. Stumbling backwards before running into the desk, you were shocked again. You realized you had never met anyone like Kim Namjoon before, and he wasn’t going to put up with your antics. You were helplessly at his mercy, and you couldn’t be more turned on.

“Turn around and bend over,” Professor Kim commanded with a new edge to his voice. You did as you were told, thanking god that you chose to wear a seemingly innocent dress with red lacy underwear that day. From Namjoon’s angle, you were sure he could see everything. You heard Professor Kim click his tongue as he got up from his chair. He leaned over you and whispered into your ear, “You’re such a naughty thing. You think I don’t notice the skimpy outfits you wear to class? All the innocent little bends you do when you ‘accidentally’ drop something? I think I’m going to have to discipline you to act properly in class. I will not be disrespected in my own classroom, do you understand? Outside of class, however, you can act however you please.”

“Yes Professor Kim. Punish me however you like,” you decided to play along looking back at him with a smile. The smile didn’t last for long, as you felt a hard slap on your ass that stung like hell. You let out a loud gasp.

“I’m not playing around. I’ll be the one calling the shots, Miss ___. You can call me ‘Sir’ from now on, Professor Kim is too long, it’ll be hard to scream it out later,” Professor Kim landed another hard blow on your ass. You let out another whimper. Usually, you love getting your ass slapped, but no one has ever done it like this before. A few seconds pass another slap echoed throughout the room. The pain was starting to mix with pleasure.

“You didn’t answer me, Miss ___. I do not like being ignored,” Professor Kim admonished.

“I’m sorry, sir. Yes sir you will be calling the shots from now on,” you quickly responded. As good as the spanks were starting to feel, you would have preferred a more tender touch.

“Good girl. What do you want me to do now? You want me to touch you?” Professor Kim said with a deep sultry voice. His voice alone had you soaking through your panties. All you could do was whine in response and sway your hips in Namjoon’s direction. Namjoon chuckled at your reaction as he slipped off your panties.

“Already so wet for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet. Is this what you’ve been wanting all semester?” Professor Kim questioned.

“Yes, oh my god yes. Please sir, just touch me already!” you couldn’t help but cry out; you were dying from the anticipation. Without warning, you felt your professor rubbing your clit in circular motions. The sensation was pleasurable but left you wanting more. Moaning, you tried to push your hips closer to Professor Kim.

“Oh you want more? This isn’t good enough?” Professor Kim teased, slipping a finger into you. You gasped at the feeling, as Professor Kim pumped in and out of you slowly. Professor Kim took note at how easily he slipped his finger inside, as you were dripping for him.

“Do you think you can handle two fingers, princess?” Professor Kim asked, keeping his pace agonizingly slow.

“Please! Please I need more,” you begged.

“What a greedy girl,” Professor Kim growled, adding another finger in. His pace quickened at an alarming rate, curling his fingers at just the right spot. With each pump, he hit your sweet spot and soon you was having a hard time keeping quiet. Your whimpers turned into moans that were mixed in with your increasing panting. Namjoon listened to you and took your rapid panting as a signal to go faster.

“Oh my fuck. Oh god. Yes, right there,” you moaned out as you were reaching your climax.

“Do you deserve to cum?” Professor Kim asked without slowing his pace.

“Yes sir PLEASE I’m gonna- ahhhhh,” your body jerked involuntarily as waves of pleasure coursed throughout your entire body. Despite your cries, Professor Kim kept up the same pace, helping you ride out your orgasm. Afterwards, Professor Kim helped you into his chair. You looked up innocently at him before sweetly saying, “I’m ready for round 2, sir.”

Namjoon, who stood over you in his towering stature, allowed his face to betray a grin of delight, and he leaned in, placing a hand on each side of the arm rests. You didn’t even flinch as Namjoon established a dominating stance, but rather you teasingly leaned in and pressed your lips to his neck, just below his jaw.

This motion elicited a soft growl from Namjoon, and he grabbed you by the arms and gently pulled you up from the chair. His face was beginning to lose the structure and reserved nature that it had been carefully maintaining, and his eyes became dark with greed and lust. He loosened his button up from its tucked state in his trousers before beginning to undo the belt.

You caught on quickly with what he was about to do, and you took a kneeling position on the carpet. You looked up at him expectantly with your signature devious smile, and you were surprised at how pleased he was when his eyes narrowed in response.

“Look at you, Miss ___. Keep smiling cos in a few minutes you won’t be,” he threatened, “I’m going to shut that dirty mouth of yours up. God, your lips were meant to do that weren’t they?” He reached down and roughly moved his thumb over your plump, parted lips.

Namjoon finished up undoing his trousers, and he finally said, “Open your mouth, Miss ___.”

You obeyed without a word this time, because for some reason you were so eager to see his face wrinkle in pleasure. There was this burning need to please him that you had never felt in any other lukewarm hookup you had previously. Namjoon gently released his erection, and you were left to admire its length. But before too long, he slipped into your open mouth, and you could feel its warmth and texture. Experience kicked in, and your hands moved expertly over his erection. Your tongue played at his tip, and you watched as his face that was always so charming yet reserved crumpled into one of sheer pleasure.

You couldn’t help but smile as your mouth moved along his cock, and Namjoon responded by growling through quick breaths, “God, your mouth feels so good, princess. Keep going.” His hand became entangled into your locks, and he held your hair up to ease your movements. The ego boost of knowing you had this effect on him was a catalyst for you to speed up.

In response, Professor Kim groaned under his breath, and as your pace picked up, his hips began rhythmically moving along with you, driving his erection deeper into your mouth. Your own heart was racing as you felt him nearing his climax, and your face was warm as you felt the wetness from your mouth spilling onto your chin. You felt Namjoon’s grip on your hair tighten as he began to cum, releasing himself into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled, as you continued your motions, his body sending rhythmic waves from his release. Through his heavy breathing Namjoon managed to command you, “Swallow.” Finally, he pulled out of your mouth and leaned over you, giving you several light smacks on your cheeks. His lips found yours, and you felt his kisses all over your chin, neck, and cheeks before traveling back to your lips. In that moment, your desire almost toppled over because there wasn’t enough skin, enough spit, or enough of him.

You giggled under his lips, and closed your eyes from the pleasure of his light smacks again. Namjoon then stood up and fixed himself, as much as he could after receiving such marvelous head, and then addressed you again, in a more collected voice, “What do you say, Miss ___?”

“Thank you for cumming in my mouth, sir,” you responded promptly.

He arched an eyebrow, “Getting cheeky are we? If it weren’t for the end of my office hours I would’ve fucked you so hard it would knock that smile of yours off your pretty face.”

You pouted playfully, but there was a sense of urgency as you realized this might be all you would be getting from him, “Are you sure you can’t extend your hours?”

Namjoon smiled amusedly, his face carefully composed again. You knew then that he had the upper hand, and even though you were always used to being the flirt, the girl with men wrapped around Tiffany clad fingers, you yielded control to him.

“I believe your essay could use some extra guidance a different day,” he answered pointedly, “Oh, and Miss ___?”

“Yes, sir?” you perked up at his change in tone.

He tossed you a handkerchief from his trousers, “Clean up a little. We wouldn’t want our little secret out and about would we?”

Published September 11, 2020. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2020 Baepsaesbae.