#this....... this got out of hand very quickly
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nochepsicodelica · 1 day ago
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NSFW
"What are you doing? It's two in the morning, doll," Toji's voice drawls out, sleep morphing his voice into something quiet and gravelly.
You pause the show you have playing on your phone and look up at Toji, who's leaning against the dining room entryway. He has two random clumps of his hair sticking out, his eyes are slightly puffy with sleep, and there's this pout on his face that just pieces it all together.
"I woke up and wanted something sweet. I had a bite of cake and an orange. Well, two oranges," you say, giving him a glimpse of the progress you've made on the second one. He hums and goes quiet, groggily watching you continue to eat the fruit. "Go back to sleep, baby," you coo. "I'll head back in a few minutes."
"Come back, now. I'm tired," Toji says, crossing his arms over his chest. He really looks like the grumpiest of bears.
You chuckle at the almost whiny sound in his voice. "Five minutes."
"No. Too long."
"Three minutes?" You counteroffer.
Toji shakes his head. "No, baby. Now."
"But..." you hold up your remaining two pieces of orange.
"Finish up. I'm waiting on you."
You sigh and stuff the two pieces of orange in your mouth, before standing up to wash your hands.
You follow behind Toji as he leads you through the dark hallway, back to the bedroom. He waits for you to walk in before shutting the door and joining you on his side of the bed. Immediately, he tries to steal all your warmth, because the sheets and the blanket feel cold on his naked torso and his legs. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and throws an arm over your chest, while his legs trap one of yours between them. He's all consuming.
"Why'd you get out of bed?" You murmur, stroking the back of his head. Toji lets out a quiet grunt, falling silent, again, after. You smile and stop talking so that he can go back to sleep. You bring your phone up and start scrolling through your socials, only to earn another quiet, but more disapproving grunt. "Sorry," your whisper, turning down the brightness of your screen.
"Turn it off, ma. It's too early for you to be awake," Toji chides.
"But I can't go back to sleep. I'm not tired," you explain.
"I can put you down. Just turn it off, alright?"
You sigh, defeatedly, and turn your screen off, before setting it on your nightstand.
"Turn onto your side," Toji tiredly mumbles, instructing you so that he can turn as well and spoon you. His arm goes over your waist and below your shirt to caress the bare skin of your tummy. His thumb slowly strokes your soft skin, moving back and forth in a soothing manner. "Relax," he says, coaxing a relieved sigh out of you. "There you go. You've got sugar in your system, now, ma. It might take a little longer to get you to sleep."
"Sorry," you mumble into your pillow. Your eyes don't feel heavy and you don't feel the least bit sluggish. It always feels nice to have Toji rub your tummy, and this method of getting you to sleep is ninety-nine point nine percent effective, the point one percent being this time.
"I don't think me rubbing your stomach is gonna save you this time," Toji says, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. He gets a quiet, disappointed sigh from you, followed by silence. He doesn't want you to feel bad. You're not the first person ever to wake up craving something so badly that it doesn't let you stay asleep, and tummy rubs aren't the only method he uses to help you get to sleep. "Want me to go down there and make it all better?" He murmurs.
"You need to sleep, too," you say, considering his own tiredness.
"I'll sleep just fine without you tossing and turning all night. Let me help you."
So, you do. You let him go under the blanket and pull your shorts and underwear down, both in one go. You feel his lips on your thighs, slowly making their way towards the part of you that very quickly grew needy, and once his tongue makes contact with you, your first instinct is to bend your knees and plant your feet on the mattress.
"Relax, baby," Toji says, under the blanket. His hands push on your thighs so that your legs go down, again. "Don't tense up too much. We're getting you to sleep, 'kay?"
"Sorry," you mumble, shutting your eyes to allow yourself to focus on the way Toji's mouth works on you. His hands stay on your thighs and rub your skin, soothingly, with the same gentleness he uses for the tummy rubs he gives you.
All that can be heard as Toji builds you up through the quietness of the night, are your soft breaths and the rustling of sheets, as you squirm and slightly arch off the bed. His tongue offers gentle licks to your clit, before he envelops the sensitive bud with his lips and starts suckling on it. Every time your legs go up, he hums against your cunt and pushes them back down, and it keeps going this way until he's had enough. You don't listen and he's corrected you multiple times, so he had to resort to locking your thighs in place with his arms.
"T-Toji," you whimper out, writhing under him and the relentlessness flicking of his tongue. "Please- Please?"
"Shh... I know, baby," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your cunt, before continuing.
Your legs are quivering and it's so hard to lie still when you've been edged and denied of your orgasm three times, now—all work done by solely his mouth. His soft, warm tongue has been lapping at you for long enough to have thin strings of your arousal and his saliva connecting you to him, even for a mere second, before those strings snap.
It doesn't take much more than Toji sucking on your over sensitive clit for a couple seconds, for you to finally get that powerful orgasm you've been grasping, but never fully reaching. Your toes curl, your hips roll against the mattress as your back arches off the bed, and you gasp sharply, a sound that leads the rest of your sounds of pleasure out, as Toji helps you ride out the sensation. While, normally, he would be a little mean and overstimulate you, even just the slightest bit, he opts out of it, this time, because the purpose of this from the start was to get you to sleep, and based off the sounds you made, Toji knows you're going to sleep so good.
Once you've calmed down, your breathing steadied and your body still on the bed—now entirely relaxed—Toji cleans you up with his tongue. Slow, gentle strokes, because despite this act of kindness being for you to achieve rest, he can't—doesn't want to—waste your sweet essence.
When he's done, he slides your underwear back on and uses your shorts to wipe his face, before tossing them somewhere behind him on the bed. Toji peeks out from under the blanket and takes in your peaceful expression. Your eyes are shut, not a crease in your brows, and your breaths come softly through your nose. This is it.
He tries to be as careful as possible when crawling back up to his side of the bed, not wanting to wake you up after just getting you to sleep. It seems like the coast is clear when his head hits his pillow and he carefully shifts so that he can watch you until he falls asleep. Then, he sees you stir and he starts thinking that maybe the orgasm didn't fully wear you out, but just left you dazed. He doesn't say anything when you briefly open your eyes to look at him, but when you lean in to leave a chaste kiss on his lips, he's furthermore silenced. Immediately after, you bury your face in his chest and doze off for sure, this time. Toji coils around you and instantly returns to his all consuming way of sleeping with you.
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salvieslovenotes · 2 days ago
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Mirror Mirror
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vi x reader, 18+ themes!!
Vi receives a nude from you for the first time and... freaks out a little
(a/n: i haven't written anything like this before, please be gentle!!)
Vi loves the way your relationship is going. She's never taken it this slow before; her relationships in the past have all been about diving head-first, but this, with you, it feels different. She really, really likes you. She doesn't want to mess it up. And taking it slow feels good, it feels like the right thing.
She suspects she's in a bit deeper than you, afraid that it means more to her than it does for you, and so slow... yeah, that's good. Give her a bit of space, allow her to reign in the rush of feelings and want that floods her whenever she's around you.
It's new for her, not to be sure of where it's going, what's happening—but she's taking a step back, taking the cues from you. Whenever you want to take it a step further, she's more than happy to go there.
But it's also tricky, not seeing you every day when she wants to. Not being sure if you're feeling the same way. Only going on one or two dates a week, holding herself back when kissing you, afraid you'll taste the longing she can't swallow down, pull away because you don't want that. You made it very clear, you two were casual. Your relationship was supposed to be fun, and yeah—casual.
So she never mentions it, even though yeah, she wants to know if you're thinking about her, too, when you don't see each other. She wants you to be thinking about her. She wants to get little dirty texts from you, she wants to send them back. She wants to get a text and be thinking about it all day. But she respects your boundaries, and so she says nothing.
Casual is... not really how Vi feels about you.
But it's alright, she knows you haven't been treated right in the past. Been with some people who haven't been respectful, who've made it so you don't give your trust easily. And so she understands why you're hesitant about starting something serious, and she really wants to show you that she's not like the others. She would never do anything to hurt you, or make you uncomfortable.
It's a total slap in the face one morning when she's just messaged you hello like she always does and you respond... differently.
good morning love
sleep well?
She's busy pouring coffee when a moment later her phone buzzes with a new message.
Cupcake <3: Well... not so good.
Frowning, she types quickly.
oh??
Three dots appear on the screen and she waits impatiently, a little worried.
Cupcake <3: Yeah, couldn't sleep well.
Was kinda... distracted
Thinking about you
Vi stares at the last line, her heart suddenly beating hard in her chest, fast enough that her stomach clenches a little. Is this... are you doing what she thinks you're doing? For a moment she has a small panic; what if she's misinterpreted, because you two have never done anything like this before. Even your flirting is all tame, none of it overly suggestive, and what if she's got it totally wrong? What if you actually meant you were up because you were questioning the relationship. Is this you telling her you want to talk?
Now panicking in earnest, Vi glances down at her screen again where your three dots have reappeared. Wondering how to reply, she takes a sip of coffee—then promptly chokes.
Another message from you has just come through. This time, it's a photo.
A photo of you, specifically.
When Vi's finished coughing her lungs out, she grips her phone tight in both hands, staring, suddenly very certain that she was right the first time. It does not look like you're questioning the relationship.
The photo doesn't include your face, cutting off at your collarbones. Vi's gaze travels along their dip and curve, thinking of how she wants to run her tongue along that same line. You're clearly lying down in the image, rumpled sheets below your back. The lower half of the image cuts off again, just showing the elastic of your panties, and the fingers you're just slipping beneath the hem.
It's a matching set. Black lace, making the curve of your waist even sharper. Vi drinks in every pixel of the image, the way your fingers are teasing her, barely pulling the elastic of your panties as if it could snap back at any moment. She can imagine your satisfied little smile, the way your breaths would become more rapid and shallow as your hand slipped lower.
Vi lets out a shaky breath, a twinging ache of want low in her stomach. She doesn't need to move to know she's soaked her boyshorts. Pushing a hand that's trembling a little through her hair, she looks at the photo again, swallowing roughly. And shit—wait, the message is from almost ten minutes ago and she...
She has the sudden thought that you might be doing that right now, and fully just —spaces out. Gripping the counter until her knuckles are white, she closes her eyes, the picture of you blazing behind her eyelids. She thinks of the way your back would arch a little as you teased yourself, brushing a finger over your clit, bucking into your own hand. Biting your lip to stifle a moan, free hand clutching desparately at the sheets.
She still hasn't replied.
What does she even respond to something like that? Wow angel, thanks for wreaking me at eight in the morning.
Honestly, she's not really sure why this photo has... affected her so much. It's not the most explicit photo she's received from a girl, not by a long shot. Hell, some of her old hook-ups had sent full on videos and none of them had made her feel... quite like this. Shaky with the need to touch you, to have her mouth on your skin, your taste over her tongue. The desparate desire to make you hers, properly hers, someone that no one else would get to touch, to want, to have. You've barely been going out a month, and she wants it to be for always.
She's worried about leaving the message read and without a response—she doesn't want you to get the wrong impression, that it wasn't a good idea to send or worse, that she's unfazed by it.
But she just... doesn't know what to send back. In the past she's snapped responses without even thinking, quick photos of her touching herself, or maybe some at the gym, especially when she was with one girl who was particularly into her strength, but she doesn't know you well enough to know what you'd like, what would make you think of her in the way she's thinking of you—you're both still learning each other, the sex is still new. And she sort of wants...
She wants to make you feel like she does right now. She just doesn't know how.
For now she just sends a quick text, just the truth, before she can think twice about it—
fuck, angel
do you have any idea what you do to me?
—then locks her phone and religiously doesn't look at it for the rest of the day. Not that it makes a difference. Without ever opening your chat again, she's distracted. Thinking about you. Wanting you.
After work she can't take it anymore and calls Caitlyn, one of her closest friends and incidentally how you two met, as Caitlyn is also a close friend of yours.
Vi's not calling to ask for advice on nudes... but she's also not not calling to ask for advice on nudes. She and Caitlyn have been friends long enough that she's not even embarrassed about it.
"Fuck I just... I dunno what to do," she sighs. It's a little frightening, to want someone that badly, when she has no idea if you feel that strongly about her.
She's so highly strung her fingers have a tiny tremor in them even though she's only had one coffee today. Every time she thinks of that photo (which she's done approximately seven times a minute all day) her heartrate picks up, heat inching up her neck. She's pretty sure her cheeks have been flushed all day—though it's not particularly hot weather-wise.
She's wearing tight black jeans, her old pair full of rips she usually wears when tinkering on her bike, but it was a bad choice today because they're tight around her waist, and every time she bends or takes a seat the seam presses against her. Usually she doesn't notice, but now even that slight pressure is enough to have her biting back a whine as she thinks again about your long fingers curling under the lacy hem of your panties, the way you'd —
A soft laugh in her ear snaps her back to the present. Fuck, she needs to get it together.
"Okay, I'm gonna help you," says Caitlyn on the other end of the line, sounding vaguely amused. "But only because you're being a pathetic wet sock. Alright, you want her to want you?"
"Uh-huh," Vi mumbles, slumped over her counter top and staring moodily at the floor.
"Right, go into your bedroom."
"Okay..." Vi replies, pushing herself up off the counter and wandering through her small flat to her bedroom. "M'kay, I'm there."
"Open your wardrobe door," Caitlyn instructs, "the side with the long mirror. You still have that mirror, don't you?"
"Uh-huh," Vi says, pulling open the side of her wardrobe with the mirror attached. "Now what?"
"Now take off your shirt, and turn around. "
Having tossed her phone onto her bed, halfway out of her shirt Vi pauses, frowning. "Turn... around?"
There's an exasperated sigh from Caitlyn's end. "Yes, turn around. One-eighty. One-eight-zero. Turn around."
"So I'm... not facing the mirror?"
There's another sigh from Caitlyn. "Fuck, Vi, you useless lesbian. Yes, turn around so your back is to the mirror."
"My back?"
"Yep." There's a smirk in Caitlyn's voice when she adds, "Trust me, that's all you need to do to make her want you."
And well, Caitlyn's not wrong.
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wileys-russo · 1 day ago
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leah, training, “can i sleep on you please?” or something like that
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just one more II l.williamson
"oh no leah come on do we have to!" you groaned as your fiancé clicked into netflix and loaded up yet another season of the crown.
"yes! babe, this is educational and entertaining." the blonde patted your knee with a grin as you groaned even louder and slumped down deeper into the sofa.
"leah i hate to break it to you but as an australian i have zero interest in the royal family, or their arguments over tea trades and affairs!" you scoffed, you respected that the blonde had an illustrious interest in it however that respect lessened when she tried forcing it onto you.
the pair of you had been together for years now and somehow you'd managed to scrape by mostly unscathed, growing very able to block out her ramblings with hums and nods which seemed to appease her.
but then beth just had to go and get her into the crown, interrupting the calm and steady flow of your home routine and especially your once sacred movie nights.
no more would you be curled up together, sharing commentary and laughter and an occasional kiss, arguing over who got the last handful of popcorn, half of the bowl littering the ground where you'd been tossing it at each other trying to catch it in your mouths.
no now you had to try and stay awake through the gruelingly boring slow burned torture that was this show and leahs obsession with it, fighting to keep your eyes open and having to put up with leahs 'tests' that you were paying attention.
you'd tried to leave her to it, going to watch a movie or a show of your own in the bedroom but the moodiness and sulking and the pouts and the dramatic sighs that would echo out for hours from the living room just weren't worth it.
"okay baby, its eleven and we have to be up for the morning session at six, we can't be late again!" you decided for the pair of you, reaching for the remote and quirking an eyebrow when leah quickly snatched it back.
"leah-" "just one more! you can go to bed, but i have to finish this season." "lee there's three more episodes in the season! you may as well come to bed with me now, and watch them tomorrow afternoon when we get back." you tried to bargain but it was no use with the stubborn blonde who firmly shook her head, remote still held tightly to her chest.
"fine! you're a grown woman, you can make your own choices. one more leah, don't be stupid." you warned sternly as your fiance hummed with a firm nod. "just one more pretty girl, i promise."
"goodnight, your highness!" you mocked, pressing your lips to hers a few times as she squeezed your hips, nipping at your bottom lip for the teasing comment.
only as you woke suddenly around four in the morning needing to use the bathroom, you realised maybe you should have fought a little harder to get leah to come to bed with you, the defenders side still empty.
"for fuck sakes." you grumbled tiredly, wiping the sleep from the corner of your eye and swinging out of bed, stomping off to the living room where sure enough the blonde was hanging half off the sofa with her mouth wide open.
she choked on air and hit the floor with a thump as you smacked her in the face with a cushion, gasping as she sat up and found you to be glaring down at her.
"why the hell would you do that jesus christ woman are you trying to put me into cardiac arrest!?" leah clutched her chest and exhaled shakily. "leah it is four in the fucking morning, get your ass into bed right now!" you growled pointing behind you as the taller girl got to her feet, trudging off still grumbling under her breath.
"i swear to god leah you better get up when that alarm goes off tomorrow, if you refuse i'll leave you here and go by myself." you warned seriously getting into bed beside her and smacking away her hands which tried to draw your body into hers.
"seriously?" "seriously, goodnight williamson." "you know a few more months and you'll be a williamson." "well i haven't said i do yet." "hey!"
~
"nope!" your hand banged down on the table with a loud smack causing the blonde across from you to shoot upwards where her head had once been resting on the cafeteria table.
"i warned you leah." you took a bite of toast as the girl whined and buried her face in her hands. "long night then eh?" beth teased as she joined the pair of you, steph, lia and laura not far behind.
"this is your fault!" you poked at the girls chest accusingly who scoffed. "me? what did i do!" she frowned as once again your hand smacked down against the table causing leah to jolt and sit upright again.
"got her into that awful show that she stayed up until four in the morning watching. its taken over our house, our date nights, our dinner conversations, you're a menace!" you huffed, stabbing at your eggs and shoving them into your mouth.
"what show?" "the crown! she's addicted!"
"oo what season are you up to? i really liked-" steph started excitedly, falling short at the dirty glare you sent her in response. "stephanie you're supposed to be on my side!" you scowled making the older girl grin, reaching over to shove your head to the side.
"nah, where's the fun in that?" "traitor to your own country." "aw does it make you mad?" the brunette cooed pinching your cheek as you swatted her hand away, everyone finishing up their food as leah fought to stay awake, munching away on her toast.
"baby please, let me just take a little nap, i'll say i need physio or something." your fiance grumbled as you all filed out of the cafeteria heading for the change rooms, the air ablaze with chatter.
"nope, not a chance. i already warned them!" you shook your head firmly with a slight smile at the way your fiance threw her head back with a groan, moping after you into the change rooms where everyone was already swapping over their trainers to cleats.
"come on, can i sleep on you please? just five minutes." the blonde slumped over into you, grabbing onto your shirt and pressing her face into your neck.
"i love you. you're so pretty. and i'm so tired!" leah whined as you unhooked her fingers from the material of your training top. "well you should have listened to your pretty fiance when she told you to come to bed." you pouted mockingly, kissing her cheek and bending down to lace up your boots.
~
"oi watch it kyra!" leah yelped, ducking the ball which was booted at her head where she'd been leaning against the goal post in between drills. "sorry leah!" the brunette grinned showing she was anything but, alessia grabbing her in a headlock as you snickered.
"what did you do?" steph appeared beside you with a knowing look at the amused smile on your face, having seen it many many times in the years she'd known you and played beside you for country and club.
"me? nothing!" you gasped with mock offence, steph humming and staring you down as your grin widened. "i might have slipped kyra a little money to make sure leah stays...sharp, today." you admitted with a sly smile, steph shaking her head though it wasn't with disbelief.
"oh she's going to kill you, pest." "well she can't do that if she's asleep now, can she stephanie?"
"kyra i swear to god if you kick that ball at me one more time i'm going to shove it down your throat!"
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kurooh · 2 days ago
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PROFESSIONAL ( AT LOVIN’ ) !
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⊹₊˚. HAWKS’ BDAY 2024 — after six months of being his press agent’s friend with all kinds of benefits, keigo struggles to find a way to tell you that he can’t keep up his side of the agreement any longer. / or, his heart’s been in it since the very beginning.
word count: 14.3K (um….please read🧎‍♀️)
warnings: 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, friends with benefits -> lovers, angst, unprotected sex, creampies, cunnilingus, drinking (everyone is mid twenties), dirty talk, squirting once, office sex.
xoxo, juno: happy LATE birthday to keigo <33 WOOO first fic of 2025 and it’s the longest one i’ve ever written.. inspired by the weeknd’s kissland! hope you enjoy, love you guys :,) 🩷
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“this pussy of yours is pretty fuckin’ greedy, huh?”
“how could i not be when you always fuck me so g-good?” the filthy words rush out of your mouth in a surge of euphoria that has taken over your cognitive functions and renders you clinically cock drunk. in this state, things you’d normally never agree to are suddenly more alluring than a shiny trinket to a nesting bird. sex on the roof of the heroes’ safety commission is outlandish and obscene (you’d used those words when keigo had first brought it up in jest) — but here you are getting plowed by none other than the no. 2 hero of japan.
“aw, dovey,” keigo coos, gloved hand closing around the slope of your neck and tugging you back into his chest, “you’ve always got the best compliments, don’t ya?”
“ah, r-right there!” you gasp, eyes rolling back into your skull as your third orgasm of the half hour boils in your tummy like magma in an explosive volcano. “shit, kei, ‘m gonna cum again..”
“heh, go ahead ‘n let it out for me,” the heel of his other hand digs hard into the plush skin above your pubic bone and the crude slapping of skin against skin grows louder. “c’mon, baby, cum all over this cock. show me how good you feel, yeah?”
“yeah,” you whimper, desperately throwing your ass back onto his cock to get him even deeper, “oh my god, keigo, fuuuck—‘m cumming!”
it nearly sweeps you off your feet, the strength of your blissful orgasm leaving you shaking violently and clenching uncontrollably on keigo’s cock. his teeth sharply sink into his lower lip when he quickly pulls out of you, lamely stroking himself to completion above your ass and spraying strings of ivory onto your skin. your body is slick with sweat and now cum, but the messiness of the situation doesn’t hit you quite yet — you’re busy trying to catch your breath while he hangs his head lowly behind you.
keigo still holds you upright on legs of jelly, lightly beating his wings to help stabilize himself. watchful gold eyes sweep over your body, doing a once over and admiring every inch of you. he’s always considered you as the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and has always felt lucky to touch you — so why does he feel so damn unfulfilled? it’s probably a form of karma; keigo hasn’t ever had a consistent relationship, all due to his own actions. so many of his old girlfriends had clashed with him over his neglectful habits — his inability to give them time, attention, and effort. all of his relationships began positively, then quickly deteriorated into toxicity he’d grown tired of dealing with.
he’d been single for a year, and went without sex for longer. if he didn’t always have the press looming over his shoulder and scrutinizing each of his damn movements, he would’ve been able to get his dick wet sooner! keigo would certainly never admit it, but the total deprivation has been a good thing, allowing him to reset and understand why those relationships had completely gone downhill. at the time, he’d pettily blamed his girlfriend or the new guy she’d moved on with.
you let out a tired puff of breath and break away from his hold too soon just to look at your phone, which is sitting on top of keigo’s jacket. “so, my lunch break isn’t over just yet. we can hit the sandwich place around the block if you’re up for it?”
god, you’ve got that lazy smile playing on your lips like it always does after he’s made you cum. how is it possible for someone to look so elegant even as she buttons her blouse and wipes cum off her ass with a spare napkin? his brain literally short circuits when you hand him his jacket, plush lips shaping around a word. words. didn’t you just say something? maybe his post nut clarity has faded into obscurity, or he’s lost his hearing from how hard he just came.
“keigo,” you sigh, snapping your fingers in front of his face and briefly contemplating slapping him out of his stupor, “is the light on upstairs?”
a shiver jolts through him despite the fact that the weather’s warm, and his disassociated eyes finally hone in on you, standing right in front of him. “yeah, sorry. what’d you say earlier?”
you shrug on your suit jacket and slip into your heels. “i’m still free. we can grab sandwiches around the block if you’d like.”
so thoughtful. his heart swells happily at the prospect of eating lunch with you. it always does, usually accompanied with a flip in his stomach, whenever he tags along on something you’re doing, whether it’s eating lunch or sorting through lengthy documents after the office closes.
“sounds good. are we walking or flying, dovey?” your favorite sex petname rolls off his tongue naturally, and after months of this arrangement, you’ve stopped correcting him.
“let’s just walk,” you say decisively, wrapping the used napkin in another, “it attracts less press, showbird.”
☆ ☆
still thrumming with the sensations of sex, keigo walks into the restaurant behind you, piping up to place his order and then to swipe his card for the lunch. he dutifully waits at the table while you stand at the counter, glancing at your phone every now and then to alleviate the impatient boredom that accompanies most edible purchases. keigo allows himself a moment of respite, and instead of looking at his phone, he looks at you — particularly the way your clothes hug the slopes and curves of your body, much like he does when he’s coming down from an orgasm.
it was exactly eight months ago when keigo had first laid eyes on you. he knew right then and there that under no circumstances would he allow his old persona to shine through or mess things up between the two of you. for the first two months out of those eight, keigo had befriended you (with much encouragement from his friend mirko, bless her) and spent time getting to know you as a person over friendly lunches and the occasional drink. he’d committed each of your stories to memory and marked your birthday down on the calendar, something he’d never done for anyone else before. the beginning of everything was after one of those rare drinks that had landed you in keigo’s apartment and sitting criss-crossed on his bed, discussing your unlucky love life.
he’d listened with rapture as you pored over the freaks you’d met and gone out with in detail, mistakenly trusting your friends to set you up with someone nice on a blind date. in their defense, you’d drunkenly mumbled, it’s not their fault that there’s so many people catfishing. one inebriated conversation led to another, and you’d happened upon the fact that neither of you hadn’t had any good sex in a very long time. in the morning, you came into work late and sore all over, but also newly enlightened. for the past six months, you’ve successfully maintained a friends with benefits relationship with keigo takami, the no. 2 hero of japan.
“this one’s yours. here’s the receipt,” you push him a tightly wrapped sub sandwich and his tab.
he catches the sandwich after letting it spin on the table like an arrow on a game spinner, then crumples the receipt. “why don’t you believe me when i say i enjoy paying for you, hm?”
you sigh after a bite. “it makes me feel like a sugar baby . . but also, i can pay for myself.”
“so you’re either saying i’m old or rich,” keigo chuckles when you roll your eyes dramatically, “i know you can, but just let me spoil you, dovey.”
you knew it was a losing game the moment you brought it up, cheeks heating a little at the implication of his words. maybe being his baby isn’t that bad. conversation comes to a comfortable standstill as you both dig into your sandwiches, crumbs falling to the table and making a small mess. when you look up to pause and wipe your mouth, a laugh tumbles out before you can stop it.
“what?” keigo asks confusedly, holding his sandwich tightly and going so far as to swivel around backwards in hopes of pinpointing whatever made you laugh. 
you wrap a napkin over your fingers and lean across the table. instinctually, keigo leans in for a kiss, only to be a little more than heartbroken when you swerve to the side and dodge it to instead dab at a streak of mustard across his chin. the sudden intimacy and close proximity cause the apples of his cheeks to turn rosy in embarrassment. “did you just lead me on?” he asks when he notices you giggling at him again, voice taking on a playful and petty tone. “because it totally feels like you did that on purpose.”
“no, keigo,” a wide smile spreads across your face at his usual antics, “you were the one eating so quickly you got mustard all over your face! someone had to clean you up.”
in an instant, his voice drops an octave, becoming low and sultry. “you keep talking like that and i’ll clean you up.”
“i— we’re in public!” you exclaim, a dull ache pulsing between your legs at the thought of him using his tongue on you. 
he shrugs noncommittally, feeling triumphant now that he’s briefly flustered you. “public or not, you know you love it. now eat your sandwich.”
“way ahead of you,” heat floods your cheeks as you pick up the sandwich, feeling dirty because of the slick pooling into your underwear. keigo doesn’t understand how easy it is to get you worked up, whether it’s with his words or the mischievous footsie he keeps playing under the table with you. “if i come across a headline about this conversation, i’m gonna kill you.”
☆ ☆
“late night?” keigo hums, shattering your concentration on the current task. startled and disheveled, you glance up just in time to catch his typical smirk. his gold eyes shamelessly rake up and down your body as if he’s spotted something he wants—no, needs—to claim. however, his raunchy ogling comes to a screeching halt when he hones in on the shadowy dark circles beneath your eyes.
“the latest,” you blow out a peeved breath through pursed lips, doing your utmost to avoid looking out the window. it’s completely dark outside, the sky an inky blanket of night and stars over the city. “i’m fucking swamped.”
it comes out bitterly, and keigo cautiously steps forward, wings twitching nervously behind him. that well-groomed mess of vermilion feathers at his back seems to have a mind of its own, constantly betraying their owner by displaying his emotions so openly. 
“what, you coming to rescue me?” absentmindedly, you swish around your empty coffee mug. not a single drop flies over the edge, the porcelain totally dry as if it was never used.
“c’monnnn, you know i’m always up to rescue you,” he teases playfully, gently tugging the mug out of your grip and setting a reassuring palm down on your hunched shoulders. “i’ll get us some coffee and help you out when i get back.”
“i highly doubt that you’re qualified to deal with PR work, keigo.” a small though rascally smile plays on your lips, corners flicking up as your sour demeanor starts to mellow out. 
he sticks out his tongue and steps out of your office, heading to the kitchen. as his feet quietly pad along the hard carpet, he considers your recent behavior — last week you were fucking around on the roof and then getting sandwiches like it was nobody’s business. keigo was seeing you around the office and outside of it, but the time he’d been spending with you had decreased dramatically over the past few days. the coordinated lunch breaks and escapades were no more, and keigo’s been caught up wondering why. now, the reason for this couldn’t be linked to anything he did or said — still, it’s impossible for him not to overthink.
“god, you’re a lifesaver!” you groan joyously as keigo sets down a full mug of coffee in front of you and away from your laptop and notepad. “thank you for this.”
“slow down, you haven’t even seen the things i can do outside of making coffee.”
you rotate your laptop once he finally takes a seat in front of you, insistently pointing a finger at the various tasks on your metaphorical plate. “if i give you some work, you’ll have to do a lot of proofreading.”
keigo nods, and his eyebrows suddenly pull downwards in a mix of playful confusion and surprise. “wait, is that a virtual shrine dedicated to me?”
“what?” you mutter, squinting your eyes as you frantically look over the computer screen to no avail. “oh, shut up. just start reading while i finish up the rest.”
there’s a pause and a beat of silence as you both settle into your respective assignments.
then, “i actually came to the office because i missed you a little.”
“you what?” you laugh increduously, licking a finger to aid you in flipping through paperclipped pages. his eyes follow you, from the moment your tongue darts out to wet your skin and then flicks through pages you skim to find what you’re looking for.
“well, i haven’t seen you outside of work in a while,” keigo sniffs, tearing his eyes away from you and refocusing on the words on the screen. at the risk of sounding too vulnerable, he throws in something disgustingly horny to save himself. “was just wondering about my fuck buddy.”
fuck. he’s really cringing now, throat instinctually closing up once he feels waves of nausea crashing over him. but you don’t even bat an eye, too busy setting papers aside in different stacks and barely paying attention to him. “oh, yeah. i’m sorry, it’s just that a ton of people have been dumping so much work on me.”
“so that’s why i’m reading a drafted article enshrining endeavor as number one?” he grins, briefly catching your eyes. you’re not quite sure if it’s the exhaustion finally catching up or something else, but your stomach flutters when you automatically meet his gaze. loose papers drift to the floor, falling right past you. 
“yep, that’s why,” you laugh nervously, snatching up the papers so forcefully that they crumple in your grasp. keigo’s always so damn charming, and it affects you more now that you’re so tired. right?
“you want some dinner, dovey?” the affectionate pet name lingers in your mind, echoing loudly until it finally fades into a memory from a while ago. the transition of his affectionate voice into one choked with unadulterated pleasure is seamless, leaving you breathless in an instant. a glance at his wings has you sloppily picturing them fanned out above you and frantically beating the air as keigo ruts his hips into yours . . god, what’s gotten into you? he certainly could.
“i want you,” it slips out before you can stop it or even control it, words laced with a silent desperation only he can detect. “uh, i mean—”
“bold words,” a wolf whistle trills out into the air, reminding you that you’ve now started something you won’t be getting out of easily. “sure you can handle what you’re askin’ for, baby?”
“don’t act like i haven’t countless times before,” you retort, voice a little weaker than you’d like. it’s frustrating, the influence he has over your body — he hasn’t even said anything meaningful and yet heat’s surging to your cheeks while a shiver of excitement ripples through you.
“riiiight. aren’t you the one always saying you can’t handle it? ‘oh, keigo, please! i can’t, i—’”
the endless teasing is just too much — it makes your blood boil, gets your pulse racing, and absolutely does what it was intended to do. your full mug of coffee tips off the edge of the table and spills when you slam the laptop shut, leaping forward to rapidly close the distance between you two. your lips, slightly sticky with coffee, crash onto keigo’s hard, causing your foreheads to knock together too.
it’s a palpable invitation, one that he eagerly accepts without hesitation. his strong hands settle firmly on your hips in an attempt to stop their slight tremble, fingertips pressing into the curve of your waist. he pulls you into his lap and you fall into sync with one another just like always: keigo slips his tongue into your mouth while you tug at his blonde curls. impatience curated by time apart and characterized by frustration has the air in the room sparking with white hot electricity that’s strong enough to cause a power outage — you’re so close to finally scratching that unbearable itch, at least until it comes back tomorrow with much more ferocity.
keigo draws back with a knowing smile, lips curling up. “we should stop, dovey.”
a thin, glossy string of saliva connects your lips to his. you’ve got this desperate, needy look written all over your face, which crumples petulantly as you consider the possibility of being left unsatisfied. something purely horny twists in his chest, alongside his still yearning heart — keigo fucking loves being in control, being the only one who can give you the satisfaction that you so desperately need, but the thought of being something more resurfaces in his mind again.
it always comes to him at the worst times: right now, during a sexual moment, or before he falls asleep and when he opens his eyes to daylight in the morning. it’s eating him up inside, and he’s already too far in to stop — or is he? no, he isn’t! not if he finds a way to extricate himself from the suffocating casualness of this mess and advance whatever’s left into a real relationship, one that’s abundant in love and adoration. the evolution of the relationship hinges on the timing of his love confession, so he’ll definitely plan to wait until you’re not holed up in the office and on his lap looking like you’re about to shed tears.
“i c-can’t,” you gasp breathlessly, heart pounding in your ears, “kei, please— i need you so badly, i’ve been waiting so damn long.” 
and who is he to deny you, when you’re begging so beautifully?
“so you missed me?” keigo murmurs, pressing kisses to the column of your throat and savoring the way you softly gasp. this is his moment. he’s going to slyly frame a question for you, and when you answer it correctly, he’ll spring his confession onto you and then give you what you’ve been dying for.
“god, yes,” a moan rushes out from between your lips, head tipping back to give him easier access. with his nose pressed into your skin, keigo blissfully inhales the faint wisps of your favorite perfume. eight months later and you’re still wearing that scent daily, ever since he complimented you the day he met you. “you know i did, keigo.”
“what’d you miss the most?” he smirks between open mouthed kisses, guiding you straight to the answer with his warm hands that slip under your shirt and languidly caress the small of your back. 
“your cock, t-the way you fuck me,” you groan, unintentionally shattering his plan into pieces; but he doesn’t let it show, chuckling into your neck as he rapidly snatches them up and off the floor. it’s okay, he’s okay. all he has to do is ask a few more questions and offer up some multiple choice answers — in doing so, he’ll have a chance to tell you how he really feels.
“mmmm, is that all?” 
your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you tug him back by the hair, scrutinizing him with eyes clouded by lust and nothing else. a carnation colored flush sits high on his cheekbones, and his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows down a pesky i love you. not now, not here — this isn’t the right moment.
“keigo, why are you questioning me like my boss does?” he blinks, averting his eyes to your glossy neck, shining with his saliva in the dim light. it smells like coffee now, and he’s wondering if it’ll ever get cleaned up, dark liquid overflowing and soaking through the carpet, straight into the floor. he doesn’t want to be like the coffee, forgotten about and lingering in the air since it had fallen off the desk without you having caught it.
keigo knows you — he always has, and it’s too easy to pick up on the unmistakable tension twisted in your question, along with undertones of discomfort and deflection. automatically, he slips back into his typical persona, lips curling into an impish smile while he waggles his eyebrows to emphasize his words. “heh, you’re so impatient. can you blame me for wanting to build things up?”
you visibly relax, plush mouth forming into a pout he wants to kiss away. “i think there’s been plenty of build up. don’t tease me again.”
“yes ma’am,” he replies coolly, lifting his hands into the air in a show of submission. you release his hair and he pulls you into his chest, holding you tightly as he stands up from the chair. it rolls away into a corner, plastic backing hitting the wall with a soft thud just as keigo slams you down on the desk, papers flying every which way. 
“keigo, hah, you haven’t even gotten me naked yet,” you sigh, heat rushing to your face as he sinks to his knees on the hard carpet, his eyes never leaving yours. dexterous, impatient fingers find the clasp of your pants, and he drags them down your legs, along with your sticky panties. 
“i know,” keigo breathes, pulling your thighs over his shoulders and pulling your hips close to his face, “and yet, you’re already fucking soaked for me. aren’t you, baby?”
“yeah, i am,” you whimper, feeling your cunt clench around nothing when he rewards you by spitting onto your clit. “all for you, kei.”
“you’re so cute.” 
you really are, all spread out on the desk, pretty and pliant just for him. there’s not a shred of resistance when he manuvers you closer or teases his fingertips around your quivering hole, ignoring your strained cries for more. dark pupils enlarge against gold irises, and keigo’s wings flutter eagerly as his arousal crashes over him in continuous, steady waves of heat. now that he’s between your legs and focused on his favorite late night snack, the scent of the coffee dissipates along with his thoughts. 
“keigo,” you keen, fingers threading through his tousled curls, “please, just—oh god, stop fuckin’ teasing me.”
a sportive smack! lands on the side of your bare ass, kicking up a few papers when you jolt forward in surprise. “easy, baby. easy,” there’s a low, warning pitch in his voice, and you settle down frustratedly, gnawing on your lower lip. keigo’s never been one to rush when it comes to eating your pussy, even during quickies—you’d be more aggravated if he didn’t always make you cum so damn hard. his face is flushed pink and shining with eagerness as he pushes two fingers inside you, fixated on the way they slide in so easily. 
he experimentally curls them, and a lick of heat washes over his whole body when he watches your face crumple, head tipping back weakly while you tug at his hair. the blond curls are soft between your fingers, giving you something to grab onto when you need to steady yourself. 
“fuckkk,” keigo groans, attaching his rosy lips to your clit and lightly sucking at the swollen, sensitive bud. clumsily, you grind your hips against his mouth, body sweltering as the small office fills with the impolite smacks of his lips and wet squelches of your sloppy cunt. “loosen up for me, baby, you’re too tight.”
a trembly breath leaves your lips as you obediently readjust for him, spreading your legs and trying to relax so he can tug his fingers back. for a moment, he pauses to appreciatively look over his glossy, creamy fingers—he sticks them into his mouth, moaning and squeezing his eyes shut as he puts on a show of swirling his tongue around them like some kind of slut. once he opens his eyes, those piercing gold hues meet your own and he plunges them back inside, making you whimper.
“listen to me, dovey,” keigo murmurs, breath fanning over your wet clit, “i want you cumming hard on my fingers in the next thirty seconds.”
“but—oh,” your voice cracks when he deeply curls his fingers, purposefully interrupting you, “what if it’s not enough? i don’t think i can—”
sharp, pearly teeth lightly graze your clit and make you mewl noisily, the action both a warning and a reward. “yes, you can, dovey,” he utters in a hushed voice, “c’mon, show me you’re a big girl. i’ll be counting for ya.”
with that, keigo dives back in, furiously licking your clit while he roughly curls his fingers into that sweet, spongy spot inside you. it’s probably not serious, but something in your stomach flutters at the thought of disobeying him—if he wants you to cum, you’ll do just that. your hips rock into his tongue, developing a messy rhythm that could possibly rival his own when he’s inside you—he smirks against you, clearly pleased with himself. papers lift into the air, swirling around in a flurry of white as if they’re caught up in a tornado. the source of the miniature storm is his wings, uncontrollably flapping about as he determinedly licks at your clit like a lollipop. 
twenty five. a thin sheen of sweat shines on your forehead, making the skin tacky. absentmindedly, you wonder if it could be possible for him to cum in his pants just from eating you out. he certainly enjoys it enough — whenever he says he’s feeling thirsty or hungry, he’ll end up eating you out for so long you pass out by your seventh orgasm.
twenty. keigo’s absorbed in the smell, sight, and taste of you. nothing’s better than watching you fall apart on him, dewy tears in your eyes as you fight back overstimulation or impatience. but this is new: he’s never demanded you to cum after setting a time limit in place. it occurs to him now that he didn’t think far enough ahead to answer the question you’ll probably end up asking afterwards, something along the lines of ‘what would’ve happened if i didn’t cum?’ . . 
fifteen. with your eyes rolling back into your head as your hips lurch off the desk, a bit of drool pours down your chin. covered in a mixture of sweat, spit, and slick, you’re at a loss for words as keigo’s damn tongue rolls over your clit again and again. perhaps you’re too dazed, but you swear you feel him etch the letters of his name into you with the tip of his tongue.
ten. keigo’s pussydrunk, soaking his boxers with precum as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. his eyes are dark with lust, and the rosy skin of his cheeks and chin is smeared with that sticky wetness he just can’t get enough of. all of your muscles pull taut like a bowstring, and you sob out his name, pushing his face into you as euphoria hits you from every direction and all at once.
“kei, oh my god, ‘m gonna fucking cum,” within seconds of your frantic gasps, you abruptly gush on his fingers, hard enough to push them out of you — cum squirts from your cunt, getting onto his face when he curiously leans in to lick it away.
you don’t get a second to come down from your high because keigo roughly licks you through it as if he’s severely dehydrated. “mmmph!” you squeal, hips immediately pulling away from him like he’s given you an electric shock. “wai—wait, keigo, it’s way too much!”
he relents, rolling his eyes as if he doesn’t believe you. “fine, fiiiiine. you win this one, dovey.”
“pants off.”
he quirks an eyebrow but starts to undo his belt, letting it fall to the floor with a soft bang. “you’re so fucking greedy, i swear.”
you throw him a glare, wiping sweat off of your forehead as you sit up, slowly hopping off of the desk. 
papers fall all around you, quietly crinkling as they hit the floor and surround the desk in a sloppy circle. your lips press into a thin line as you take the sight in, mildly exasperated by the mess you’ll force him to clean up. “on the desk, keigo. tuck your wings in too.”
he laughs in disbelief, used to calling the shots when it comes to sex, “so demanding, baby.”
you fix him with a serious look, crossing your arms over your chest while papers ride the dying currents of air made by his wings. keigo clears his throat and folds his wings close to his back, “yes ma’am.”
his flushed cock is rock hard, bobbing as he settles onto the desk; it’s fraught with veins and beautifully curved to one side, something you’re endlessly thankful for when he’s inside you. above him, you’re dripping wet and ready to take him deep — keigo shudders when you grip the base of his cock, carefully balancing yourself on the desk so that you can easily sit down on it.
“holy—oh, shit,” he curses, abs clenching beneath his clothing as he forces himself to keep his hips down. if you want to take control, he’ll give it to you — anything you could ever want is immediately yours. bleary gold eyes clear up and hone in on where you’re connected; your pussy swallows his cock whole like it’s nothing, leaving him breathless.
you swallow, gnawing at your lower lip, “i’ve fucking missed this, kei. been s-so long.”
memories from your most favorite escapades rush back to you so quickly your head spins, momentarily distracting you from the task at hand. there’s a beat of silence before keigo grips your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he borderline begs you, “baby, c’mon, fuck me already.”
“don’t tell me what to do,” you breathe, placing your hands in the center of his chest to hold yourself up, “you don’t get to do that right now, keigo.”
“god, you’re gonna kill me.”
maybe you won’t, but your hips will — they start to move until you’re bouncing roughly on his cock, letting his tip bully itself against your cervix. it’s the kind of kiss that only the two of you can understand, filled with affection and an hungry obsession for more.
for what seems to be the hundredth time, this mahogany desk is christened with more sex. skin claps against skin, filling the room with the same applause that echoes in a theater after a successful show; the whole building is empty, and it’s only your window that’s flooded with fluorescent light in the otherwise dark night.
“dovey,” keigo moans, voice cracking on the familiar pet name, “if you keep going like this, i’m—i’m not gonna last much longer.”
you don’t answer, eyes squeezing shut against the burn of exhaustion setting into your muscles. handsy as always, he grabs at your tits, pulling you further on top of him and taking a hardened nipple into your mouth.
the sharp edges of his pearly teeth drag against your skin as he sucks, golden eyes shutting once he hears your whiny moans grow louder. you’re fluid and all too smooth, riding his cock into oblivion while working in these little humps against his pelvis that don’t disturb the rhythm you’ve built up. your clit drags across his skin deliciously—shit, it’s possible that you could cum together.
“haah, baby,” keigo trembles beneath you, wings spreading out and quivering against his will. “i’m so damn close, i want—” it nearly sounds too intimate, but he ignores the voice in the back of his mind and focuses on his impending orgasm that’s fighting its way out of him. “shit, i just want you to cum with me.”
sensitivity creeps up your spine and makes your body ripple with a shudder, “r-rub my clit ‘n i will, kei.”
everything happens so damn fast; it doesn’t take long for your body to respond to his frenetic touch, and you completely fall apart on his cock, triggering his own high. while your cunt desperately grips him like a vice, he’s shooting endless ropes of cum deep against your cervix. ultimately, it was pointless for him to fold up his wings — they’ve fought against him like usual, strewing more papers around the room and knocking objects off of your desk.
“d-don’t move just yet,” he wheezes, holding your hips in place the moment you try to retreat, “just stay here for a second, dovey.”
a mixture of slick and cum is smeared in the wispy beige hair that adorns his pelvis, and he looks at you pleadingly, cheeks a blotchy pink. it’s cute, but not nearly convincing enough for you to stay much longer than half a minute. “c’mon, i’ve got some stuff to finish up.”
begrudgingly, keigo lets you go and winces as you pull off of his cock. it flops lamely against his stomach, cum dribbling down the sides and adding to the creamy ring around the base. he sighs, unsurprised by your eagerness to depart — his thighs are cooling now that you’re no longer sitting on top of them.
“that was good,” you say, voice layered with praise as you stand on the tips of your toes and peck an appreciative kiss to his cheek, “let’s get started on sorting papers, shall we?”
you’re already across the room before he can grab your waist and show you what a real kiss feels like, slipping through his fingers like fine grains of sand each and every time. 
☆ ☆
rules are the stitches in the seams of anything, always there to hold things tightly in place. it’s natural to break a few every now and then, but what if there are some that should be broken? perhaps they tend to hold things back rather than securely in place.
“okinawa’s just beautiful,” keigo says wistfully, reminiscing about white sand beaches and the bird’s eye view of colorful tourist umbrellas dotting the shoreline from above. there’s a small glitch in his memories that adds you to the scene in a bikini, sunbathing on a towel while he convinces you to come swim in the water with him. he hears himself say something impulsive, but he doesn’t regret it. “maybe we can go on a trip there together. i’ll fly us.”
you stir your drink with a straw, watching the alcohol whirl around ice. “ah, i think we should build up to that, keigo. you’re forgetting that i’ve never flown around that far with you before.”
“we could always change that,” he replies, voice suave. “nighttime is the best time to fly.”
“someday i might just take you up on it,” a laugh spills out of your mouth after a gulp of sweetened tequila, and keigo’s face softens. one of the things he loves most about you is the fact that you’re not afraid to be yourself around him, never once hiding a smile or laugh. “anyway, is there anywhere you haven’t traveled?”
“hmm, let me think,” he raises his fingers to his chin and ponders momentarily, although the answer had come to him the moment you’d started to ask the question. “well, there’s your house.”
you shake your head, nudging his wrist with your own. “noooo, i’m talking about other countries and cities. haven’t you flown out of japan?” 
“only to okinawa,” he supplies, wings twitching anxiously. whenever he brings up your home in the city or worse, him going to it, you always clam up or push him away. granted, it was a boundary line you’d marked in the sand when you’d gotten into this reciprocal relationship all those months ago. escapades have taken place everywhere but your home—he could count on one hand the amount of times he’d mentioned doing it at your place, only to end up on a random rooftop or in an empty alleyway. ever the quick learner, keigo learned not to bring it up. but now, when he’s considering all the variables involved when it comes to confessing to you, he can’t help but feel that it’s necessary to see your house at least once.
sweat rolls down his spine and he unconsciously tugs at his fitted shirt, feeling the heatwaves brought on from both the liquor and the crowded atmosphere of the bar. there’s so many people walking behind the two of you, so much noise, so many bodies all in one space — he feels a little trapped.
“i’ve never been,” you say, derailing his train of thought as you drain your third drink of the night and then flag down the bartender for another. “it’s supposed to be a great vacation spot, though.”
he wipes away the sweat from his forehead with his arm and finishes his drink before nodding your way, wings fidgeting behind him. “it really is, dovey. you wanna take off after another drink or two?”
two glasses slide on the counter, the sides dripping with condensation and cold to the touch. it’s nice to feel in his hands, and he feels his nerves calming after a few long sips. “sounds good,” you answer, feeling hot yourself. the edges of everything in the room seem to blur, thanks to the halos circling the dim bar lights. “you might have to carry me out of here, though.”
“oh, i don’t mind,” keigo answers with a smirk that you can hear in his voice before looking up at him, “but only if you promise you’ll hold on tightly.”
“yes, keigo,” you drawl, scooting your barstool a few inches closer to him. he follows your shameless eyes, tracing your weighted stare to the small gold chain around his neck. it makes a tinkling sound when keigo loops a finger beneath it, hazy eyes meeting your own.
“can’t stop staring, can you?”
you automatically roll your eyes and look away, although your heart starts to race with anticipation. it should be an innocent question, but keigo’s words roll off his tongue in a way that is loaded with his unique charm and flirtatiousness. in a matter of seconds, you’re overthinking the question and the certain innuendo behind it; your breaths come in shallow pants that are just barely audible, and a finger slips beneath your chin to tip your head up. 
keigo leans in, lips barely grazing the shell of your ear. “gettin’ all worked up and i haven’t even touched you? that’s a first for you, baby.”
just stop it, you think, yet you’re unable to turn away. damn, he’s got you right where he wants you, and he knows it — keigo shoots you a knowing smile when he notices your thighs unconsciously squeeze together. it’s so hot in this bar, and it only grows hotter in his presence; an uncontrollable shiver races up your spine and you shakily reach for your drink. “stop it, kei.”
your words are shaky, and his wings twitch triumphantly behind him, feathers slightly puffing up. the dewy glass slips right out of your hand and splashes all over your blouse, sticky tequila soaking all the way through to your bra and dampening your chest. keigo stifles a snicker and plucks the glass out of your lap, a little bit of liquid still sloshing around inside it.
“that—that was your fault,” you drop a loose ice cube into the remains of your drink and glare at him angrily as he dabs a handful of napkins against your chest, unabashedly looking over the shrinking fabric. now that it’s all wet, it clings to every inch of your chest and emphasizes the outline of your tits.
“oh, but i wasn’t holding the drink,” keigo clicks his tongue and sends you a wink, sweat shining on his forehead. 
“someone has to foot the bill,” you grouse, sourly blaming him for your now stained blouse and sticky chest. then, it hits you—neither of you are drunk enough to leave the bar. after flagging down the bartender and requesting six shots, you look at keigo competitively. “listen up. whoever finishes the shots first wins and doesn’t have to pay.”
“really, a drinking challenge?” keigo grumbles, knowing you have a better chance of winning. normally, he wouldn’t mind paying for you, but you’ve challenged him and might risk covering the bill you’ve both racked up. his head is fuzzy, but one thought is clear: he won’t let you.
“yes, really,” you shoot back, nose crinkling at the smell of the liquor all on its own in the shot glasses. it’s not sweet and there’s no chaser, but you’re determined to fight your gag reflex as it goes down. “ready?”
“i’m ready,” keigo sighs, lifting a shot glass. 
it ends faster than the alcohol was poured. you’re proud to have won, and keigo doesn’t let on the fact that he assisted you. despite the liquid fire burning your throat, you’re happy—too happy; this is the most drunk that keigo has ever seen you, and he’s in the same boat as you, looking for the oars.
he nearly forgets his card when he struggles to his feet and walks out of the bar with you, right into the not-so-dark nighttime of the city. all of the streetlights are fuzzy and the sounds of racing cars are muffled; this is a different area of the city and it takes a moment for you to register where you are in relation to keigo’s apartment.
“dovey,” he says, cheeks flushed a bright red, “do you wanna go to my place?”
strong, possessive hands find your waist and pull you close, pressing your damp chest against his. those gold eyes of his search your face carefully, as if he’s taking in your features and committing them to memory or looking for something he’s intent on finding. 
your hand settles on his cheek and you pull him forward for a kiss on the busy street, not caring about who sees or writes about it. you’re in your own world, thinking of nothing but keigo and his plush, yearning mouth—he’s got the sense to pull away before it goes further, vaguely gesturing for you to turn around. when you oblige, he wraps his arms around you and under your own, holding you securely against his chest.
“i’ll treat you to a little night flight.”
vermilion wings beat the air powerfully, kicking up dust and litter along the sidewalk as keigo lifts you off the ground and into the sky. you’re shocked and speechless as you look over the city from above, thousands of buildings endlessly illuminated with light and color from the entertainment district. “it’s beautiful up here,” you breathe, feeling a little less drunk now that chill air washes over your face and cools you down. “why didn’t you invite me up here sooner?”
keigo laughs, riding on the wind and becoming one with it. “i did, you just never took me up on it. as to why, i don’t know.”
everything’s so much clearer from up here. the view is impeccable, and the air is fresh, free of the different scents of the city — exhaust fumes, restaurants, cigarettes, the occasional incense store. you’re shivering, a little too cold from the breeze blowing through your damp blouse, but being pressed against keigo’s warm chest makes it more bearable. something prods at the back of your drunken mind, a thought you’ve pushed away each time it arrives.
keigo thinks he’s slick. he thinks you don’t notice his lingering gazes, the odd way he tries to snuggle up to you every time you finish having sex, or the acute tenderness written all over his face every now and then when he’s talking to you.
but you do. you notice it, each and every time—in fact, you know exactly what all of this behavior stems from, but you choose to ignore it. clearly, keigo is in love with you. it’s evident in his actions and body language, yet he hasn’t actually said anything. it’s so damn easy to notice and understand because you feel the same, you’re just better at hiding it. something about the idea of a relationship with the no. 2 pro hero of japan is daunting — not only because you’re his agent or you’ll constantly have to face the public, but because there’s a possibility that transitioning into something more from being friends with benefits may be too dramatic of a change. 
“oh, fuck,” keigo groans, getting lost in the myriad of lights and buildings below. he doesn’t know where the hell his apartment is and isn’t sure if he has the time to fly around for a half hour looking for it.
“what’s wrong?” you ask worriedly, suddenly aware of the fact that your legs are dangling in the air. in order to preserve his pride and sensitive ego, you don’t bring up anything about him dropping you, but your body tenses.
“it’s the shots,” he grouses, speaking quickly, “they’re gonna come back up.”
“where’s your apartment?”
“i don’t know,” keigo answers, and now you can hear him starting to gag as he forces the contents of his stomach back down. “i can’t keep flying around much longer . . sorry to cut this little flight short, baby.”
“it’s okay, just don’t get sick,” you reassure him slowly, trying to pinpoint your own apartment. surprisingly, the building is a minute or two away from you, if he flies fast enough. “keigo, we’ll head to my place. see that dark building right there, near the red billboard?”
he nods, and the waves of nausea evaporate instantly. after months, he’s finally going to see your apartment—he’s now leagues closer to successfully confessing his feelings to you. keigo’s heavy wings slice through the sky as he hurdles toward your apartment; while the speed is steady, the course is not. from below, people watch as something wobbles through the sky, shifting awkwardly from side to side in a way that isn’t at all graceful . . or intimidating.
you assume he really has to throw up, when it’s quite the opposite. “k-keigo, see that balcony with the potted plants? there’s only one pot of flowers.”
“is that yours?” he asks, struggling to control how giddy he is. “i see it.”
☆ ☆
with the solid, familiar ground of the balcony beneath your feet, things around you are a little steadier. still, the alcohol buzzes persistently in your head and makes you giggle over nothing. it’s warmer now that you’re out of the sky, standing close to keigo and surrounded by all of your potted plants. a pleasant tingling sensation courses through your limbs as your body wobbles, adjusting to being out of the air and the new thoughts that rush into your head.
everything’s still a little fuzzy at the edges, a reminder of your tipsiness and disorientation. keigo wraps a supportive arm around your waist when you nearly stumble to the ground, quietly giggling at your own actions and sighing contentedly in his grip. there’s a beat of silence as your body meshes into his, the kind that settles between two people who’ve just shared a long day, and it feels so natural that your mind absently drifts to two pairs of shoes beside one another and two cups of coffee in the mornings—perhaps you didn’t notice the routine you’ve slipped into, one so innate that it makes everything else feel a little less important.
“hey, did i mention how sexy you are when you’re drunk, dovey?” keigo hiccups, wings quivering as he leans on you for some support, struggling to balance just like you are. his knuckles nudge into your side gently, grin widening as if he’s waiting for a reaction from you. the playful edge to his voice falters momentarily, and you exhale through your nose, shaking your head in disbelief.
“ugh, you must’ve had much more than i thought,” you laugh, kicking the doormat up and retrieving the brass key from beneath it to unlock the door. it’s dark out here on the porch and the same inside, leading you to awkwardly jam the key into the lock.
“you always blow me off,” he sighs ruefully, smile dropping as he notices you using the key upside down. “what, do i embarrass you or something?”
“i-it’s not that,” you breathe, tensing the moment his chest presses against your back and his hand envelops yours to help you with the key. goosebumps rise on the tender flesh of your arms first, then all over your chest, beneath your damp blouse. you recover once the lock gives, sliding the heavy glass door open and catching your breath. “kei, you’ve always got something to say to me.���
“you, of all people, have the power to shut me up whenever you want,” keigo teases, following you into your quaint apartment. instead of appreciating the moment, his mind races to find an answer to the million-dollar question: why were you so intent on keeping him out of here? even in total darkness, the place is cozy, shelves adorned with knickknacks and décor that suits you. totally lost in concentration, keigo’s wings bristle and he accidentally knocks something off a shelf, but manages to catch it in his hand. you’re in the middle of saying something, but he doesn’t even notice, his eyes completely lighting up at the sight of the object.
“is this that glass bird i gave you all those months ago?” 
a nervous laugh rushes past your lips and you nod, hand falling away from the light switch. “yeah, i thought it looked nice up there. it’s pretty.”
“wow, baby,” he gingerly puts the figurine back in its place, elated by the possible significance that this little glass bird holds. “if i’d known you liked it that much, i would’ve showered you in gifts.”
in the middle of unbuttoning your blouse, you trip over your own foot, and keigo, ever the hero, catches you as gently as he did the figurine. his fingers splay across your bare side and you blink up at him, faced with another small gap that’s dying to be closed. “i know what i want as a gift,” you utter, voice low and sultry. the words seem to hang in the air like more of a promise than a request.
keigo can smell the liquor on your breath and the temptation that accompanies it—without a second thought, his lips are on yours and he’s pushing forward with alcohol buzzing in his veins. he’s so full of hope, believing the best over what he’s considered a sign of something more; it feels so right to kiss you like this, with his hands spanning your bare waist and tugging gently at your waistband. it doesn’t quite occur to him that he is inebriated and therefore may not be thinking as sharply as he would if he were sober in this situation. 
you shove forward, pushing him hard into a wall and nipping at his lips hungrily. despite being a little bothered by him being in your apartment, you can’t say you’re not interested in fucking on your own bed for once. a shaky gasp leaves you when you pull away for breath, stomach fluttering delightedly at the hardness of his cock pressing into your thigh.
his breath hitches in his throat, hazy mind racing a thousand miles an hour. the question leaves his lips with more urgency than intended. “i—shit, you really want me to take you right here?”
“in the hallway?” you laugh, astonished. “i’d much prefer my bed, it’s easier for you to fuck me as hard as you want.”
desire and lust conducts your actions, has you dropping your blouse to the floor and unclasping your bra next. each article of clothing falls to the floor in a heap, forming a trail leading to the bedroom door. keigo follows your lead, wings jittering with anticipation as he crosses the threshold. billowy curtains blow up and around the window, lifted by the night breeze, and your room is dark, the details barely visible: keigo notices the many pillows on your bed (so that’s why you were on his ass about buying more than just one) and the full length mirror off to the side.
keigo stops to glance at his reflection in the mirror, fraught with the sculpted curves of muscle—each line a testament to years of hard work and dedication. dark hickeys litter his tanned skin, all left behind from the heat of many moments. momentarily, his eyes shift from the glass to you, perched on the bed and waiting for him. his fingers subconsciously graze over one of the marks, just as he recalls one of your rules, a line that had been drawn in the sand early on—no marks, nowhere near your neck or anywhere at all, even if people couldn’t see them. 
it’s a curious little thing, isn’t it? you clearly have no qualms about marking up his body, but you never let him give you some in return—he hasn’t voiced it, not yet. he exhales softly, feeling the ache between his legs flare once you call his name expectantly. it’s like a switch flips, causing his mind to sharpen and his pulse to quicken when he steps toward you.
bathed in opalescent moonlight, you sit back against your makeshift throne of pillows, eyes raking over him shamelessly, as if you’re looking for something else to sink your teeth into. vermilion feathers puff up and shake themselves out as the bed dips beneath his weight. “come here,” he beckons you lowly, with every intention of making you his. “you’re mine, aren’t you?”
now mussed with abundant wrinkles, the bedspread shifts beneath your bodies as keigo slots himself on top of you and hastily kisses down your neck, lightly nipping at the tender skin, just enough to elicit soft moans from you. doubt melts into desire, lacing his ministrations with something more urgent. for six months, keigo has never seen or left a single mark on you, and tonight, that’s about to change—you’ve already broken the biggest rule you had by bringing him to your apartment, so how much further could this go? 
“yeah, ‘m all yours,” you whine, back arching off the bed when he bites at the soft skin of your tits, tongue lapping away the sticky tequila you spilled earlier. it’s so different—he can’t believe he went this long without making any objections. 
things are heating up fast, and that haziness from the liquor creeps up on both of you, blurring your thoughts just enough. his hips chase yours into the bed, and he eagerly grinds his hardened cock against your thighs, all over them. your voice cracks slightly when you try to moan his name, impatient as always. but keigo decides to take his time with you, kissing and biting longer than usual—he’s in no rush, not yet.
it’s intoxicating in every way possible, causing your body to swelter and thrash beneath his own. keigo’s moving fast, delighting in your pleasure and drinking in every reaction unapologetically. fuck, to think you’d denied him and yourself for so long—he should make it up to you somehow, shouldn’t he?
“dovey,” he pants, fingers slipping under the fabric of the panties appreciatively, “you wore my favorites?”
crimson fabric adorns your waistline, threaded with soft lace. for lingerie, it’s pretty comfortable: it doesn’t floss your asshole like a thong or g-string does, something you’d told keigo when you tried it on in the dressing room. he knew he’d be buying it the moment you stepped out with a bright smile on your face. seeing it on you now is surreal, and he nearly creams his boxers at the sight of it, wings conveying his thoughts for him through a tremble.
your hips rise up and off the bed so he can pull away the last bit of fabric that covers your body. “yeah, but it doesn’t matter now,” you titter cheekily, shockwaves of arousal shooting straight between your thighs.
unceremoniously, your legs are thrown open and keigo’s wings flutter in amusement, always the first thing to react to whatever you have to say. “it matters to them,” keigo comments, jerking a thumb back to point at his pesky wings, “fair warning, this place might be a mess by the end of this.”
“so long as you help me deal with it tomorrow, i don’t mind,” your fingers swipe his cooling spit off your chest, and you’re a little startled as you press at a fresh hickey. it’s sticky, skin now sensitive and tingling in a way that’s just right.
fierce as always, keigo doesn’t waste any time diving between your legs, eager to fuck but even more so to eat your pussy. glistening strings of slick stick to the tender skin of your inner thighs, connecting them to each other thinly until he licks it away. “mmm, dovey,” he moans adoringly, and your pulse quickens, “taste so goddamn sweet.”
keigo’s a proud pussy eater, the filthiest and best you’ve ever met. he could be gasping for air with his face covered in your cum and yet, he’d still have something utterly nasty to say. unapologetically nose deep, he slurps loudly at your soaking cunt and pins your antsy legs down over his shoulders. 
“ngh, keigo,” you thrash forward, thighs squeezing his head like a vice while your hips uncontrollably buck into his face. “please don’t stop, don’t fucking stop—”
“keep squirming around like that and i will,” he grunts, one hand pressing you down into the bed while the other pushes between your thighs. those tenacious gold eyes of his are hooded now, gleaming rapturously as he devours everything you have to give him like he’s been starving. loud, sloppy slurps soon fill the room, falling into cadence with your whiny moans; scarlet feathers ruffle in response to his most favorite sounds, and his hips rut carelessly into the mattress, desperately seeking friction.
your head falls back into the downy pillows, jaw dropping slackly as you unsteadily sneak a hand down to your clit, fingers seeking to rub a lustful itch away. keigo’s fingers wrap around your wrist and snatch it away from your pussy, instead guiding your hand to his head in a show of acquiescence. 
“don’t go doing that,” he groans, pulling up for air and pressing a thumb to your swollen clit hard enough to make your eyes roll back into your skull, “use your words instead, dovey.”
you weakly nod his way, and a sudden, swift slap is delivered right to your clit, the force behind it causing you to see stars. a twisted yelp tears from your throat, and you’re doe eyed when you tearfully glance down at him, chest rising and falling rapidly.
“gotta work on using your words, baby,” keigo coos, thumbing away a stray tear from your cheek. “jus’ trying to make you understand that i need you to tell me what you want.”
there’s a dark edge to his voice that makes the apologetic tone he’s taken on seem ingenuine, almost a little mocking. and yet, you let out a sweet moan, leaning into his touch with a hushed, “yeah, kei. i understand.”
still reeling from the tingling impact of the pussy slap, you guide his head back down between your legs and unsteadily grind into his mouth. he greedily drinks you in, smacking his lips like he can’t get enough of your honeyed taste, and unconsciously pulling you closer. his fingers rub tight circles into your throbbing clit, occasionally pinching the bud to elicit a scream or two before letting go.
keigo had always been taught not to play with his food—but when she’s quaking against his face and sobbing out his name over and over, he just can’t help himself. he’s had a perpetual  mean streak that he’s only ever unleashed during sex with you, taking an overwhelming satisfaction in fucking you dumb and then teasing you about it. he notices the way your thighs tense at either side of his head, the way your head falls back whenever he tenses his tongue.
your clammy fingers claw through blonde curls, saccharine moans spilling from your lips with each ravenous push of his tongue through your folds. it’s a push and pull rhythm that is nothing less than addictive, dragging out the air from your lungs and leaving you utterly breathless. 
“g-god, keigo,” you keen loudly, shoving him down without any regard for his ability to breathe, “need you to—i need you to fuck me with your tongue.”
he groans in response, shamelessly humping the bed now that the ache between his legs has become too prominent to ignore. it flares dangerously every time you say his name or look at him with that blissed out expression written all over your face . . fuck, now you’re telling him exactly what you want and pushing him around, something he’s always enjoyed. his tongue slips into your awaiting cunt and pushes deep, tasting even more of you once he finds that puffy, spongy spot inside of you that makes you clench up every damn time. 
your breaths come in rushed, frantic gasps that soften each word. “fuuuck, right there—yeah, t-that’s it,” your voice shakes involuntarily, tight with inevitable euphoria. “kei, you’re gonna make me cum, hah—‘m real close, don’t stop, don’t stop.”
you chant those last words religiously, and keigo’s offended that you’re thinking he’d ever want to. “on my fuckin’ tongue,” he half groans, half begs, not sure if you even hear him at all.
keigo doesn’t dare to stop until you finally come undone on his tongue, shuddering uncontrollably as he licks you through your high, nearly passing out from a severe lack of oxygen. you’ve got him in a beautiful leglock that he regrets breaking out of, but seeing the dazed, drunken look on your face when he comes up erases the thought from his mind. the entire half of his lower face is covered in your cum, and heat floods your face when his pink tongue darts out to clean up his lips, all while holding your lidded gaze.
a few sanguine feathers float around your face, falling from the air like snowflakes and lightly settling on the bed like rose petals. it seems to make the moment warmer, more romantic as if this is your first time with him—in hindsight, it would’ve been nicer to christen the relationship with a bed of rose petals and scented candles scattered around the room. instead, it was something that happened fast and right after conversations about ex partners.
you pout at him as he positions himself on top of you once again, pressing a wet kiss to your mouth. instinctively, you lick away the mixture of spit and slick he leaves on your lips, tasting yourself on your tongue momentarily. it’s bittersweet and a little syrupy . . maybe he really isn’t lying about you tasting like candy. your thoughts fade away when you catch a glimpse of his vibrant wings — you’ve always seen them, but not like this. this time, you’re up close to them, so close you can see the downy barbs and delicate vanes of each individual feather.
“are your wings . . sensitive?” you ask curiously, voice carrying the barest note of reverence as your hand tentatively inches over his shoulder. after each and every covert tryst of yours, you’ve seen keigo smooth out the feathers or greet you in the morning with stimulating news of his freshly scrubbed wings. but this—touching them—feels like crossing an unspoken threshold.
keigo doesn’t answer, his breath catching in his throat. he’d been in the middle of dazedly tugging his boxers down his body when you’d just dropped a miniature bomb on him. this is the first time that he’s been this astonished, features mellowing profoundly. soon, he finds his voice and uses it, words intertwined with an unexpected tenderness: “ . . it’s alright. they’re just a little sensitive, heh. nobody’s ever touched them before.”
as if they understand you’re talking about them, his wings shift toward your fingers, obviously inviting you to touch them. this is certainly new — for the first time, his defiant wings are actually yearning to be touched, even though they get a little choosy when it’s him who’s brushing his hands through the feathers. gingerly, you reach forward and your hand disappears into the mussed feathers, fingertips brushing lightly against the sensitive skin beneath. the apex of his wings is abundant with small, downy feathers that quiver at your touch.
his eyelids flutter shut and he emits a shy moan, swallowing a sudden heart-shaped lump in his throat. courage swells in your chest and you push further, awed by the all-encompassing softness that meets your fingers. you’d expected them to be coarse, rough from years of flying and smelling earthy or musky. the faint scent of mango wafts through the air, stirring up a sense of familiarity and comfort in your chest, reminding you of all the times he’d protectively wrap his wings around your body as if to steady you. 
“they feel so nice,” you murmur, feeling his cock throb against your thigh. it draws you back into the moment, where you’re naked beneath him with anticipatory legs sprawled open. “so . . soft.”
keigo’s buzzing when you experimentally stroke your fingers through the thin feathers, an intimate form of worship that is only understood between the two of you. “you, ah, didn’t expect them to be?”
a wind created by his flapping wings kick up your curtains and make the metal rings clatter on the bar they’re hanging on. “i thought they’d be a little rougher,” you purr, voice smooth and sultry as your legs lift, locking tightly around his waist. his v-line is visibly sharp and hard to the touch like cut marble against the pillowy skin of your thighs, muscles flexing as he guides his cock to your soaked pussy. 
“i’ll show you rough, dovey,” keigo huffs, smearing his cock with your slick and pulling your legs away from his sides. he’s going to fuck you up, and he can’t do it properly in this position—your feet are thrown haphazardly over his shoulders, thighs folded tightly against your chest. he’s painfully hard, leaking sticky precum all over and trembling by the time he pushes the tip of his cock between your folds. your response is immediate; an eager moan slips out of your mouth, hips bucking impatiently onto his cock.
“damn, baby,” his chest heaves tirelessly, skin flushed pink and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, “you’re ready f’me, aren’t you?”
you look up at him with dewy eyes, electricity shooting through your every nerve. “i-if i was made for—ah—anything, it was taking your cock.”
god, you can’t just say shit like that and cluelessly think he won’t actually fall in love with you—he was only asking for a simple ‘yes’, but now he’s got hearts in his eyes as he finally pushes inside you, swallowing down the sudden urge to blow his load this fast. pulsating, gummy walls wrap around him and seem to suck him deeper without him even moving; he weakly presses his head into your shoulder, gasping frantically as he tries to adjust to the grip you’ve got on him.
“f-fuckkk,” he stutters out, regaining his cool composure after a moment despite the room feeling like a sauna, “i’m gonna hold you to that, you better not forget it.”
he’s relentless, going from zero to sixty in a second with no thoughts of slowing down — he’s jackhammering his hips, curved cock ramming right into your sweet spot and french kissing your cervix. you’re dripping wet, slick pouring down your ass and making each thrust slip ‘n slide all the more smoothly; the bed creaks ceaselessly beneath the weight of your bodies, groaning so loudly it occurs to you that it might just break. but that isn’t even a problem, not with keigo, who’d drop a ton of money on something you could just express the slightest bit of interest in.
“h-holy fuck, keigo,” you gasp out, back arching off the bed, “i could—oh my god, i could cum just from this.”
“yeah, dovey?” he grins, voice tight as he quite literally plunges deeper into heaven. “jus’ from my cock?”
sweat beads on your forehead, making your body swelter with endless steam that seems to vaporize any inhibitions you still had after all the drinks. “nghh, w-wait, ‘m gonna cum—”
“wait?” keigo practically barks out a laugh, shaking his head ruefully at you, “there’s no waiting. i want you to cum right on my cock ‘n i’ll fuck you through it, dovey.” 
you nod with mascara infused tears streaming down your face, legs quaking uncontrollably. everything seems to happen at once — a twinge of pain takes root in the backs of your thighs just as the built-up tension inside you snaps into thousands of sparks, finally igniting your long awaited orgasm.
keigo forces himself to keep his eyes open despite the fact that he’s risking an early orgasm, balls clenching at the sight of you: your lips form an o shape as euphoria washes over you, making your body quiver frenetically. he swallows dryly, closely rocking his hips against yours so you don’t push him out. 
“kei,” is the first thing you sob out when you recover, struggling to catch your breath with every thrust fucking the air out of your lungs. you’re sensitive all over, skin prickling with heat that doesn’t cool even with his wings creating a draft. 
he’s straining tight at the seams, heart pounding in his ears as he thinks of nothing but you.
you, you, you.
with your sweet, glossy-lipped smile in the mornings and the voice of a vixen when you innocently call his name. you’re nothing less than beautiful beneath him, clawing at his shoulders and staring up at him with those glazed over, blissed out eyes while your body molds against his. it’s a shape he knows well, one he’s pictured in his head when he’s all alone, one he’s been dreaming about whenever his eyes close.
his breath catches in his throat. “haah, fuck—dovey, i can’t hold it anymore.”
“right fuckin’ there,” your voice cracks into a squeal, “mhm, jus’ cum inside me.”
“you mean it?” keigo asks dumbly, nearly melting at the wild look you throw him in response.
“yeah, kei—shit, ‘m gonna cum again,” the words rush past your lips, urgent as ever and spurring him on to keep going, “i want you to—i need you to fill me up.”
something sweet flashes behind his gold eyes and he tucks his face into your shoulder, breath coming in frantic pants while he gasps your name. you’re practically in your own world, moaning loudly and dragging his slim hips closer to your own. when his cock starts to twitch deep inside you, the heel of your palm digs into his lower back, forcing his tip right against your cervix. he’s burning hot, utterly lost in you with no way of finding his way out — cum spurts from his cock and the spasms wrack his body, each stripping away a layer of him until he’s left with only his heart in his hands. 
“i fucking love you,” it rushes out and he doesn’t regret it for a second, “god, baby. i love you so much.”
your eyes roll back as your body surrenders to the toe-curling sensation of your third orgasm of the night, euphoria hitting you from all directions and rendering you clinically cock drunk. you muster just enough strength to wipe the salty tears away from your eyes, teeth chattering just the slightest bit as you drag in a gasping breath. 
after a moment, you yawn, stretching out your folded body and nudging at his chest to get him to lay down beside you. “ooh, that was great, kei. there’s no fucking way i’m walking tomorrow.”
coming down is the hardest part.
keigo’s shaken to his core by your flippant response to his confession, but most of all, he’s deeply embarrassed to have said something—no, to have thought something this stupid. finally, he’s getting a taste of karma from all of his failed relationships; he wishes that he could allow himself enough pity to ask the abyss of the universe what he did to deserve this. the heat that had once been sexy dissipates immediately, leaving him as cold as a corpse. he rolls over to the side, letting go of you and staring up at the ceiling, laying on top of wings that don’t even have enough life to twitch. pathetic tears prick at the corners of his marked eyes, and for the first time, he’s happy that the lights are off.
“keigo? did you hear me?”
“sorry, i didn’t. what was it you were saying?” he drags a forearm across his sweaty forehead, overlooking the tender inflection in your voice.
“i just . . i don’t know. that was really good,” he may not hear it, but you do. quickly, you clear your throat and tug up the blankets, inviting him to crawl underneath with you. “goodnight, kei.”
he should bite his tongue, but he doesn’t; this is the last time. “goodnight, dovey.”
☆ ☆
after tossing and turning the whole night, keigo finally decides to end the torture at 5:20 am the next morning. it’s still dark out, and he figures that he can easily slip away under the cover of night. he’s got a mild hangover, but it won’t impair him, not when he’s determined to keep it together until he gets back home.
soberly, he absorbs his surroundings and recalls the memories that have been plaguing him for hours. his body tenses, thick cords of muscle pulling taut as if he’s bracing against the impact of a punch, and like it has countless times before, the scene replays in his head again. his emotional, devoted admission of love was something you’d completely ignored—again and again, you’ve only ever shown an interest in his body.
in his chest, he feels his heart clench horribly as he looks over your sleeping form. you’re curled up in yourself under the warm blankets, turned toward him with a serene look on your face that makes it all the more difficult to slip out from under the sheets and into the cold. like a cat, he silently pads into the hallway and collects his clothes as if he was never there. he’s inches away from the back door he’d been so excited to step through last night when he stops in his tracks, head hanging lowly as pangs of guilt hit him like fists. it’s not right to just leave you like this, not without making an effort to say some kind of goodbye.
keigo hesitates in the hallway, feet seemingly glued to the floor. all he can hear are loud alarm bells—every instinct is begging him to leave, to spare himself the imminent heartbreak of going back in that room to see you. against his better judgment, he eventually tiptoes into your room with every intention of giving you one final kiss. at your bedside, he bends forward and presses his lips to your forehead; the kiss is entirely chaste, the brief touch carrying a blend of quiet grief and the tenderness of a love that was bound to fall through.
like most things in his life, this kiss doesn’t go as planned. there’s a momentary flash of blue and white—he’s managed to give you a strong, accidental static shock with an innocent kiss at 5:22 in the morning. you blearily wake up, squinting up at him in confusion and making out the high collar of his hero jacket.
“good morning, keigo,” you stretch under the blankets and reach for his hand, “what—what time is it?”
“it’s early,” he answers unsurely, sitting down on the foot of the bed. his wings droop, vermilion plumes seemingly inanimate. “y’know what, don’t worry about it. go back to sleep, baby.”
“but where’re you going?” you sit up abruptly, eyes narrowing at his fully clothed body. a glance over the edge of the bed reveals that he’s even got his boots on! 
“i’ve got patrol, silly,” keigo picks the easiest excuse out of an array of choices, and you sniff it out immediately. “i’m a hero, remember?” silence hangs in the air for a moment before you slowly speak up, sounding more confused than anything else. “but saturdays and sundays are your off days.”
keigo pauses, tongue sliding over his teeth as he contemplates what to say now that he’s been caught in his lie. like an idiot, he’s managed to trap himself. you scoff, cognitive functions coming to back to life as the final vestiges of sleep fade away into the ruined morning. did he actually expect you to wake up naked and hungover, all by yourself?
“okay, you caught me. i’ve got some stuff to deal with.”
“this early? c’mon, why’re you in such a rush?”
ultimately, it’s best for the both of you if he pulls away.
keigo’s usual smile drops and he sighs, “i’ve got shit to do, okay?”
it’s this early in the morning, and your blood pressure is already spiking in a way that is most undesirable. “are you fucking kidding me, keigo?”
the way you say his name so angrily, so accusingly—it fucking irks him, causing the corners of his lips to pull downwards into a scowl. he’s not really angry at you, he’s angry at himself for causing this dilemma to begin with, but you don’t know that. how could you really know anything about him aside from the way he likes to fuck?
“why are you getting so damn pissy? i’m going to leave whether you want me to or not, okay?”
stark naked, you exit the safety of the bed and make a beeline to your dresser, where you yank open drawers in search of clothes. keigo stands, watching longingly as you pull on some panties and a bra.
“i’m getting pissy because you wanted to take off so i could wake up naked and alone! you didn’t even say goodbye.”
“i was trying to,” keigo argues back, jumping to his feet, “but you were the one who ruined that for yourself, didn’t you?”
“a kiss isn’t enough!” you snap, now covered in a loose t shirt and pajama shorts. “couldn’t you have just waited a few hours? maybe then you could’ve told me why you were leaving.”
“what the hell? so you’re saying i need a reason to go back to my own house?”
“i don’t see why you think you can lie to me!” your voice raises furiously, words sharp as daggers, “i’m not just your agent, keigo. i know you, i care about you! don’t you get that?”
it’s quickly evolved into a dangerous game of catch, the pressure to be the one to drop the ball growing heavier atop his shoulders with each passing moment. painfully, a vein in his forehead pulses from the headache brought on by the hangover and the memories that follow it. it’s been hours and he can’t seem to shake away the pain that gnaws away at him. he’s so stupid.
“yeah, i know you are,” keigo grits out bitterly, “all i wanted to do was leave.”
“so abruptly?” you press him for answers, flicking on a small lamp so you can see him clearly. deep wrinkles span the entirety of each article of clothing that hangs on his body, but it’s the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes that makes him look unusually sloppy, getting you to pause as you take the sight of him in. concerned for his wellbeing, you soften, body relaxing. “what—keigo, what’s wrong?”
“it’s just the hangover,” he squints defensively, backing away and into a corner, “anyway, you got your goodbye, didn’t you?”
your gentle, worried face falls away. it hurts more than any injury he’s ever gotten, but he has to keep the walls up to protect himself from the pain even though guilt slips in through the cracks like mustard gas. with a pinched sigh, keigo backs away from the wall, wings limply hanging behind him as he prepares to exit your bedroom with no intention of ever coming back.
he’s blindsiding you, lying to you out of nowhere and slipping through your fingers like steam, too elusive for his own good. without a second thought, you close the distance and grab firmly at his wrist, a gesture that would’ve worked once. “i can’t do this anymore,” he mutters without looking over his shoulder, snatching away from you as if he’s been burned. “i just . . i can’t.”
“what’re you—what do you mean, keigo?” he looks out into the distance of the hallway, focusing on a specific floor tile and tracing its grooves so he doesn’t have to see your face. just from your voice, he knows you must be absolutely crushed. for courage, he allows himself a steady inhale before stepping past the threshold and leaving you in the lurch.
“this,” keigo turns, gesturing wildly and spitting out the words as if everything that’s happened in this room is horribly filthy, “it’s bullshit, all of it. i’m done, got that?”
there’s a beat of silence, and keigo stays a second too long.
“keigo, you’re breaking my heart here.”
you’re probably referring to the sex, aren’t you? surely you’re disappointed by the fact that you’ll no longer be fucking the no. 2 hero, petting his wings and calling him by a name few are able to.
“oh, come on,” he looks over you sourly, shaking his head as his eyes span the entirety of your body, “you’re pretty. you’ll find yourself a new fuck buddy, it’s not that big of a deal.”
immediately, he regrets saying it, feeling a rush of nausea in his stomach—he doesn’t want you with anyone else.
you blink back tears, his stare suddenly invasive and hurtful. “i don’t want a new fuck buddy, i want you.”
“tough shit,” keigo grunts, wings drooping further down. the longest feathers now drag along the floor, picking up whatever there is to offer. “i’m done being friends with benefits.”
“i just—all this fucking time, i’ve been wasting my time wanting to be with you,” the words tumble out of you bitterly, filling up the space between you with everything you’ve ever wanted to say, and his ears prick, grasping at a possible implication beneath all of it, “god, to think i was afraid we wouldn’t be able to become something more—all of this was a mistake.”
keigo pauses, heart pounding in his ears and possibly affecting his ability to hear. “you’re . . in love with me?”
“i was,” the correction is swift and choked, reverberating straight to his core and making his body stiffen. it hurts more than anything to hear, carrying a horrible weight, the kind that makes him realize you’ve given up on him.
“then why didn’t you—that doesn’t make any sense,” he gasps, the newfound information hitting him like a freight train, “if you were in love with me, why didn’t you—how couldn’t you have said something?”
“what’re you talking about?” you hiss, harshly rubbing away the tears in your eyes with the back of your hand. keigo’s bewildered now, face devoid of anything but shock and some kind of adoration as he seems to process something inside his head.
he stares at you desperately, struggling for the right words, “fuck, dovey, why didn’t you say anything last night?”
“don’t call me that,” you snap, the petname far too fond for a moment like this one, “why would i possibly have said something last night?”
keigo falters, and his voice cracks as the words rush out like a torrent. “i told you that i—god, i fucking told you i loved you. didn’t you hear me?” 
oh.
oh.
his heart squeezes painfully in his chest when the realization washes over your face, making him realize the gravity of this misunderstanding—you didn’t hear him.
wearily, you take a seat on the edge of the bed. he sees the way your spine curves forward, and bites down hard on his lower lip once the first sob slips out of you. in an instant, keigo’s beside you and pulling you into his arms, shaking all over. he doesn’t know what to say, but his voice breaks with endless regret when he finally comes up with something. “i’m sorry, god, i’m so sorry,” tears race down his cheeks and into your hair as he murmurs despairingly, “i thought you didn’t care, i didn’t know—”
there’s nothing more to say. 
keigo tries anyway, brokenly whispering apologies that fade into the air like smoke. his arms are tight around your body, holding you closely — it’s an unspoken promise to never let you go again. for the very first time, he truly melts into you without the walls in the way or the burden of hidden feelings. when you slowly relax against him and your sobs become quieter, something shifts in the air. vermilion wings, once held down by the weight of everything they’ve been carrying, finally come back to life. wings that have had no other purpose but to protect keigo now extend outwards to protect you too, soft feathers cradling you tenderly in the quiet of the morning. just over the horizon, the sun begins to rise, bathing the city in the light of dawn and new beginnings.
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totalswag · 16 hours ago
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podcast therapuss ⎯ DREW STARKEY
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authors notes first time writing influencer!reader, i like it so far. this idea popped into my head the other day after watching one of jake’s episodes. there's no face claim for influencer!reader, i added this picture for the ideal theme.
taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.
masterlist
summary joining jakes podcast talking about various topics then mentioning not getting the chance to meet drew starkey. clips of you talking about him goes viral which leads him to reaching out to you.
warning(s) none!
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About a month ago, your manager texted you about doing a podcast with Jake Shane, and you quickly said yes. You contacted him shortly after your managers confirmed it, expressing your excitement. Since then, you've grown closer and spent the night before the episode was filmed.
The two of you went out to dinner and got to talking about various of topics. It was a great way to get to know each other. You consider each other as friends now.
You've used social media since you were fifteen years old. You began by posting YouTube videos, and you continue to do so. Tiktok became another source of content to promote, including daily vlogs, hilarious content, and so on. Nothing would make you change it.
Everyone was getting settled before filming began. Jake started off by talking about a few topics then you came in. You were super excited about doing this.
“Welcome to Therapuss! "We've got the incredible Y/N here today," Jake says, gesturing toward you as you relax into the comfortable chair across from him. You flash your characteristic smile, which your followers enjoy. The cameras roll, but it feels natural—just another day in your life, sharing your thoughts and experiences with the world.
"Stop it!" you chuckle, shaking your head. "But seriously, Jake, thank you very much for having me. "I am a huge fan of the podcast."
"You're too kind," he replies, smiling. "So, let us dig in. You've experienced an unimaginable rise on social media. Your vlogs are really addictive, your TikToks are continuously trending, and everyone adores you. "How does it feel?"
You enjoy answering questions like this. They are your favorite because you don't always get to discuss what inspired you for doing this.
"It's surreal, honestly," you acknowledge. "I started YouTube my freshman year of high school because I wanted to look back on the moments I made. I never imagined it would turn out like this. It has been a whirlwind, but I am grateful for it."
Jake takes it all in, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand. "Based on what I've seen, your content is incredibly diverse in your vlogs, TikTok, and lifestyle tips. Tell me, how do you balance all of that?" He asks, intrigued by what you do.
You respond to the question by explaining how you learned to draw boundaries over time. You prefer to keep a lot of things private that do not affect the outer world. As your audience grew, you formed a unique bond with them.
"Do you have a show you've been obsessed with lately?" Jake asks you while laughing and raising his eyebrows.
"Duh, Outer Banks pookie!" Before you laugh and toss your head back theatrically, you smirk. The statement, "I love all characters, Rafe is my favorite," leaves Jake speechless.
"Let me explain, his character is so interesting and yes, he's a psycho," you huff, putting your palms up in defense.
Jake and you keep talking about the show and his favorite show.
Jake nods in agreement. "Totally. Okay, switching gears to Pougelandia. Tell me everything."
You giggle and lean back in your chair. "Oh my goodness, that was incredible! The Outer Banks cast is as cool as they appear on television,” You gush, your excitement is evident.
Jake’s face lights up hearing you talk about the cast, “stop it that sounds so sweet, tell me more!”
You quickly point at him, “They’re so down to earth and so sweet. I got to meet practically everyone except for one person,” pouting then covering your hands with your hands.
Jake shrieks in surprise, "bitch who? "You must tell me!" He exclaims excitedly, settling into his seat.
“Drew Starkey. I was very disappointed since I'd heard he was the sweetest person, but our schedules didn't work out." you confess with a hint of disappointment. You were excited to meet him and start a conversation like you did with the rest of the cast.
Jake, of course, teased you about it, saying, “I feel like we’re setting up a rom-com here. Drew, if you’re listening, the universe is waiting.”
The remainder of the podcast you two continue to talk about various topics and even did the infamous NAME—someone will send in a question or mention something for Jake and the guest to answer the question on the podcast. There were lots of interesting questions.
A few days later, the episode is up—fans are talking about you talking about Drew and you wanting to meet him. TikTok is overloaded with clips of you talking about Drew, and your comments are full of hopeful hints about a possible meet-up.
You'd just completed editing your most recent YouTube video for your next vlog, and you were drained enough to fall asleep at your desk. The buzz of your phone buzzing from your bed, frowning but curious in who it could be.
You scream. Literally scream.
Drew Starkey followed you.
Drew Starkey sent you a message.
"Am I being punked?" Am I dreaming? "What the fuck is happening?" You ramble while holding your phone in your shaky hands and looking at the two notifications on your lock screen.
Allowing yourself to relax and compose yourself. You unlock your phone, tap on instagram, go to the messaging tab, you’re sure your jaw dropped to the floor.
Drew Starkey: Hey, I recently watched your podcast with Jake. We should get together sometime—finally make up for not meeting in Pougelandia!
What do you say?
How do you come off calmly?
Yourusername: Hi! Yes, it sounds perfect. Let me know when you’re free.
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Fast forward two months later, you feel you’re still in a dream. Drew and you hung out together at a local coffee shop then went back to your place to talk more. Once you started talking you two couldn’t stop.
After hanging out the first time came more meeting ups. Drew asked you to be his girlfriend three weeks ago—you were shocked and excited all at once.
One day, while scrolling through TikTok in your kitchen, leaning on the counter, you came across the trend—wait they don't love you like I love you. You thought the trend was silly, so you decided to participate. 
You did a couple tries and posted your favorite one out of the four—not realizing Drew was in the background on his phone, unfazed about what you were doing. Your comments started blowing up.
Bestie you got some explaining to do 🤨
Causally dancing in your kitchen while Drew Starkey is walking around at the same time? Interesting
When worlds collide fr 😏
Alright where the cameras at...
I fucking knew it!!!!
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⎯⎯ my taglist!
✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account
@runningfrom2am @chenslucy @whorelaud @drewsephrry @diqldrunks @rosezza @rafeyslamb @mymultiveres @starkeyvhs @percysley @francislovergirl @kiiyomei @sukuna-wafiu @skyslowalking @kneelarmhstrung @inthelibrarybtw @liliumz @lovingsturniolo @xoxosblogsblog @yanna2coolz @stevesxwhore @minyoon23 @skywalker0809 @bxmaaa @anamiad00msday @ifwfratboychris @darkacademictrash @pwertiies @claudiamoscatoo @stir-knee-o-low @ratgirlcunt @drewstxrky
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Logan Going Into a Rut.
Would you guys like a part two? I could make a part two if you guys want….let me know how it is and please request a thousand more things I am eagerly awaiting your requests!!! (I am also working on the ones I already got!) I didn’t spell check this….
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Pairing: Logan Howlett (Wolverine) x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: Logan goes into a rut earlier than he expected.
Logan had woken up that morning significantly earlier than he usually did. You were still sleeping peacefully next to him, entangled in the sheets you had stolen from him during the night. Logan didn’t mind too much, being always warm. But that morning, he felt even hotter than usual. He slid his hand against his bare chest, feeling it to be slick with sweat. He closed his eyes, massaging his temples, before he shook his morning drowsiness and confusion away, deciding he would not be able to sleep any longer. He walked to the bathroom, deciding to take a cold shower even if it was the heart of winter.
He wasn’t too mad about the early start, Charles having drowned him in a very extensive list of things to do, not counting the lessons he had to begrudgingly teach that afternoon. Logan stepped outside of the bathroom, fully clothed and ready for the day, even if he still felt a little drowsy. He chalked it up to having eaten too heavily the night before, maybe the digestion worsening his sleep.
He checked himself in the mirror, making sure he looked decent. He started heading towards the door of your room. Right before he left, he glanced at you, making sure you were still in deep sleep. Logan’s eyes froze on your figure: your sleeping shorts had slid up your body, revealing your thighs, and your braless tits hidden underneath the shirt you had stolen from him begged him to jump back into bed with you. He exhaled loudly. Logan gripped the door so tightly he thought his claws would come out. He needed to go work. He shook his head, cursing Charles as he shut the door behind him.
Logan had been running around the X mansion fulfilling various tasks, not noticing as the day slowly, and sluggishly slid forward. The gloominess of the morning left its place to the timid rays of the winter sun, that caressed his back as he finished fixing a broken kitchen cabinet. A multitude of students had already waltzed inside the kitchen, still half asleep. They had uttered a sleepy ‘good morning’, before they grabbed a little food. Logan grunted in response, too focused on the darn kitchen cabinet. The flow of students had significantly slower when he had managed to finally fix it.
Logan slammed down the screwdriver. “Fucking finally.” He closed and opened the cabinet a few times, smiling proudly when the cabinet door did not decide to dramatically clatter to the ground rather choosing to finally stay in place.
“What are you celebrating, baby?”
Your voice startled him, but he quickly turned around, a type of smile reserved for you only gracing his lips. “(Y/N).” You grinned back at him. “I managed to fix this darn cabinet door that someone, managed to detach in the dead of night.”
Your eyes glinted. “You have a gut feeling about who did it?”
“Definitely.” Logan replied, walking around the counter to hold your waist. “I woke up super early this morning.” He added. You pulled back from his chest, worry dancing in your eyes. “No nothing serious, bub, I just think I ate a dinner that was too heavy.”
Your eyes relaxed, pushing up on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to your boyfriend’s lips. You were about to pull back when Logan suddenly deepened the kiss, darting his tongue in your mouth. You leaned back into the kiss, letting yourself be pulled by Logan’s large, warm hands on your waist. The man grunted into the kiss, his body starting to tingle on fire, desire coursing through your veins. The way he was pulling you close seemed desperate, as if he needed you to breathe.
You gasped in shock when his hands slid onto your waist and pressed you against his crotch, feeling his already erected cock. “Already hard?” You whispered, looking down at the evident bulge in his pants. Logan pushed you against the counter, caging you against it. His chest heaved frantically.
“No idea, darling. You’re making me go crazy today.” He whispered, before he dove back into the kiss. You fully lost yourself in it, knowing the kitchen was pretty much deserted at this point in time. He pressed into the kiss, his tongue caressing your mouth, desire making his chest burn incandescently. Your eyes fluttered shut, letting your hands roam on his large back, his scent making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
You were about to suggest moving it to the bedroom when Logan suddenly pulled back, pressing his crotch tightly against yours and caging you tightly against his chest. You glanced up at him, worried something happened when you noticed his legs were quivering. A moan erupted from his lips, and his hips thrusted against yours. “(Y/N), oh my god!” He grunted. You didn’t know what was happening till you felt wetness from Logan’s crotch, seeping into your leggings, as his head was thrown back, and he panted loudly.
“Did…Logan did you cum?” You asked, startled: he usually lasted more than a few rounds. His endurance was crazy. Logan’s eyes fluttered open, lust blowing his pupils wide. He slowly looked at you, disbelief clearly evident on his face. You tentatively bucked your hips, watching as he shivered.
“I think…” Logan swallowed, reaching his hand to feel his crotch. “My rut might be coming early.” He closed his eyes, cursing himself: the sweat, the ever present arousal, the shitty sleep…it was all there. Your eyes widened, shooting down to the clear stain on his light blue pants, and the evident bulge that was already growing again.
“Fuck, today is not the day for that.” You cursed.
“What, why?” Logan asked, grunting when he felt the head of his cock press against the seam of his jeans. Why did he decide to go commando today of all days.
“I have that overnight field trip with my students! I can’t bail last minute.” You cried, your eyes widening. Logan’s face contorted into a grimace of pain, a curse rolling out of his mouth, as he realized this day would suck. A lot. He would have to spend the day locked in your room, rutting against your panties to try and feel any sort of momentary solace. But he knew you could not desert your students just like that. Even if he acted all gruff and scary, he knew what caring for students meant, and he would not rip their favorite teacher away from them, especially during a field trip that was only supposed to be joyful.
He caressed your cheeks. “It’s gonna be alright, baby. I’ll figure it out.” He lied through his teeth, already feeling his skin starting to burn and itch with almost irresistible lust.
You glared back at him. “No, it’s not fine and we both know it. You know what, I’ll come back tonight. I won’t stay overnight. How does that sound, baby? Huh?” You asked, pulling against his shirt to try and get him to concentrate through the daze of lust that was already taking over.
Logan nodded, his head spinning. “Yeah, that would be great, love.” He whispered. You moved against him, trying to reach your phone to check the time, your knee gliding against his bulge. “Fuck!” Logan croaked, throwing his head back.
You locked your phone, glancing up at him. “Logan, baby, I still have 10 minutes. What can I do?” You asked, caressing his chest.
Before he replied, Logan gently grabbed your arm, dragging the both of you inside the supply closet, and locking the door behind you.
Safely inside, Logan closed his eyes, trying to look past his primal instincts, and deem what would be the best course of action. Objectively, fucking you would keep him satisfied the longest, but there wasn’t time in 10 minutes. He discarded his rationality, fully relying on his animal instincts, knowing what they desired in the moment would keep him satisfied the most. “This…might be weird, baby, but I just need to rut against you, please.” His voice was heavy with need.
“Baby, I’m here. I’m here for everything.” You reassured him, spreading your legs, letting Logan position his crotch right in between, were he needed to be. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you still as he started to thrust against you. His face soon contorting in a grimace of pleasure, even a drop of drool sliding down the side of his mouth.
Your hands raked Logan’s back underneath his shirt, letting him feel your skin on his. His beautiful eyes slid open, his gaze landing on your tits, that bounced delicately with every trust. “Your tits, babygirl…need to see them.” Logan whispered in your ear. You pressed an open mouthed kiss to his neck before you unzipped your jacket, revealing your light tank top underneath: you were going out with your students to a nature park, you needed to be sporty.
You reached for your neckline, feeling Logan’s hand wrap around yours to yank your tits out faster. When they were right in front of his eyes, Logan mewled loudly, leaning down to kiss you fervently as his hips started to jackhammer faster.
Somehow, even in the daze of his lust, Logan had managed to perfectly align his tip with your clit, making you see stars. Your moans quickly started mingling with his. His large hands reached your left thigh, hoisting it up to wrap around his waist. “Right - nghh - there! Logan!” You cried, hearing your boyfriend’s quiet pants fill your ears.
“Gonna make me cum in my pants again. God, you turn me into a horny teenager.” He murmured, his rhythm slowing down for a second before it started picking up again.
Your phone buzzed, showing you the time. “Logan…I need to go soon!” You whimpered, threading your hands through his hair.
“I’m close.” He reassured you, his lidded eyes landing on your jiggling tits. They dragged a broken moan out of his lips. Logan was only ever this loud when he was experiencing his rut. “Are you?” You nodded quickly.
The knot in your stomach had been tightening for a while, and reacted the second it was called to attention. You wrapped your arms tightly around Logan, pressing him against you, practically shoving his face in between your breasts. “Logan!” You cried, throwing your head back, as the thigh he was holding quivered in his hand, orgasming powerfully.
The sudden surge of the smell of your arousal made Logan go crazy, sighing against your tits before he pulled back. He stopped for a second, even if he was close. You watched him, dazed, still descending from your high. Through your tired eyes and panting chest, you watched as Logan hastily unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans pulling out his cock. He quickly placed his leaking cock in between your legs, and you had the reflex to shut your thighs to allow him a little more pleasure.
“Fuck. I could fuck you for hours!” He whispered, starting to move his hips as quickly as he could. You leaned forward, licking a strip up his neck, landing on a spot you knew sent him crazy and gently nibbling on it. Logan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, the sensation of your leggings against his sensitive tip, and your delicate teeth against his neck finally pushing him to the edge.
The orgasm was so powerful he didn’t even have time to warn you. His hips just sped up, his voice ripped away from the pleasure. He didn’t even manage to utter your name, just gripping your waist with his fingers. His mouth snapped open when he felt his orgasm reach him. Logan’s claws sprung out of his hands, puncturing two bags of rice that were placed on the shelves you were pressed against. Just as the rice started tumbling to the ground, Logan cummed, distinctly hearing his cum splatter on the floor.
Your boyfriend slumped against you, his claws retracting, his thighs shivering. You caressed his back, pressing soft kisses against his neck. “You did so well, baby.” You cooed, moving your hands to massage his head. Logan nodded, spent.
Your phone buzzed again, your students asking where you were. You cursed, hastily pulling your shirt back up and zipping your jacket. You clasped Logan’s jawline, forcing him to look at you through his post-orgasm daze. “I’m going to come back as soon as I can. Love you so much, baby.” You whispered, pressing your forehead against him.
Logan’s hands ran down to your waist, dragging you into a kiss. Your bodies melted together, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and yanking him closer. Not even a piece of paper could have fit through you. You pulled back, eyeing the string of saliva connecting you. “If we keep going like this, a bigger pool of cum will be on the floor.” You whispered, starting to head towards the door.
Logan grinned, lazily passing his hand through his hair. “Go, have fun. I’ll clean up here. I’ll be waiting for you tonight.” His eyes glinted with an erotic promise. You grinned, blowing a flying kiss. Logan watched the door close behind you, pulling his jeans back up and hastily disinfecting the floor.
He walked outside, quickly going to inform Charles he would be off today before he headed back to the room. He could still feel his buzzing desire for you deep inside his skin, but he felt somewhat satisfied as he threw his shirt on the floor, letting himself fall on the bed. Logan moved on his side, trying to get some sleep to get a break from his lust, but as he adjusted himself on the mattress, his eyes landed on the dirty panties you had accidentally forgotten on the ground. Your scent reached his sensitive nose, drugging him immediately.
Logan glanced down towards his crotch. He was hard again. “Fuck!” He yelled, falling back down on the bed, exasperated. It would be a long, long, day.
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witherby · 3 days ago
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what would be littlest wayne's first word be?
I was thinking of something simple or sweet, but then I got the funniest idea on the planet.
The Littlest Wayne: First Words
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You were babbling a lot more lately. Your family all knew it meant you were likely going to say your first words soon, and the fighting over who got to have your attention increased tenfold. It had gotten to the point that your brothers were practically kidnapping you to monopolize your time and attention. Bruce put his foot down and ended that whole charade when it stopped being endearing and became dangerous.
("Really, Damian? Your skill in combat is not in question, it has never been in question, but you cannot bring them on patrol with you on the off-chance they happen to say their first words in the middle of the night!")
So, Bruce takes you to the Watchtower anytime he has a Justice League meeting. It pisses off all of his sons, but he's arguably bringing you to the safest spot in the galaxy. Also, he's your father. It's not kidnapping if you're kidnapping your own child. Okay, it is, it very much still is, but that's not the point.
"Okay, Mouse," he murmurs, easing you onto the floor and handing you a stuffed teddy bear. "The meeting's only an hour, then we're going back home. Dada will take you home."
(Maybe he wants to steer you towards your first word himself. Sue him, he's just a man at the end of the day.)
You take the bear, staring openly at your father. You don't see him often in the Batman suit, so he's very visually appealing at the moment. Bruce allows himself a small smile, gently pinching your cheek, then he steps out of the way when Diana arrives.
"The babyyy!" She whisper-yells, kneeling next to the playpen. "Hello, little one! It's such a treat when Batman brings you around!"
You make some soft, babbling noises. Mostly you're making raspberries. It's a fascinating sound. Diana melts and wipes some drool from your chin.
"Someone's getting close to their first words. My mother said mine was "maim." I remember that conversation fondly..."
Bruce has to remind himself that Diana grew up on an island inhabited by immortal warrior women. "Maim" is a perfectly normal first word for an immortal warrior baby.
The other Leaguers start quickly filing into the meeting room, each of them stopping cheerfully to greet you. It makes something fond bloom in Bruce's chest, and you coo and openly admire all the people with bright, primary colors all over their bodies. You're busy trying to chew on Superman's cape when a glowing, green light enters your periphery, and you drop the fabric in favor of staring at the Green Lantern.
"Oh, bring your kid to work day, huh, Spooks?" Hal actually scoops you up out of the pen and cradles you to his chest, grinning down at you. "Hey, kiddo!"
"Mmmnnn," you mutter intelligently, reaching for his mask. Every time you manage to pop it off, he just wills another one on. You think this is the most entertaining game ever.
"The kids are taking them out into the field, now," Bruce sighs. "They all want to be the one to hear their first word. Which is fine. It's adorable. I love that they love the baby. But the baby does not belong on Gotham's streets in the middle of the night, especially if guns are involved."
"Oh, yeah, that's pretty bad," Hal says, smiling at you. You pop his domino mask off again, squealing when it dissolves in your fingers and another one materializes over his face. "Uncle Hal would never do that to you, would he? No! No he wouldn't! That's very dangerous!"
"Huh...Hal!"
Everyone freezes. Bruce's jaw actually drops.
"No fucking way," Barry blurts across the room.
"Language. There's a whole baby here, Flash," Oliver says, but he's grinning like an idiot.
"Hal!" You chirp again. "Hal!"
Bruce sinks to his knees. Clark looks like he's trying not to laugh. Barry and Oliver are definitely laughing. Diana is pouting over the fact that your first word was so tame and boring. J'onn doesn't understand why your first word is so important when it just means you'll eventually learn to say more.
Hal is nearly trembling with the flood of emotions. His thing with Bruce is very new, and he's been by the Manor often enough that you obviously know him, but he really hadn't anticipated his name being...being...
"The boys are going to kill me."
"Maybe," Bruce admits, still on the floor. "...it couldn't be dada? It couldn't be uppies? Or Mouse, or any of the other words you hear ten thousand times a day? Even Alfred thought you might try his name first."
"I think we're going to need to postpone the start of the meeting," Clark declares, coughing as a way of clearing his throat and definitely not to disguise his amused huffs. "Let's push it back fifteen minutes."
"Hal!" You chirp again, delighted. You finally pulled Green Lantern's mask off and it didn't disappear. You win!
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justhereforthecupcakes · 3 days ago
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@rosie-tyler Funny you mention Daniel spitting.
I actually wrote a very dark and sad AU fic in which Daniel spits in Terry’s face during the infamous arm lock moment in the 5x05 fight scene… with tragic results.
I’ve decided to post it below. Please be warned there are VERY dark themes and TW subjects. Otherwise, I hope those who read enjoy.
Something You’ll Never Forget Series
Title: Something You’ll Never Forget (I Know I Won’t)
Pairing: Daniel LaRusso/Terry Silver
Disclaimer: do you really need one at this point, or do you honestly believe I own the franchise?…. Why yes I do, write any checks to me please!
Warnings: N/C, Sexual Assault, Physical Assault, Edging, Forced Orgasm, Obsession, Anti-Asian slur, Terry Silver is his own warning, in fact Terry Silver is flat out delulu
Summary: Daniel makes the mistake of telling Terry Silver to blow him. So he does.
“You really ought to be careful what you ask for, Danny Boy.”
Daniel lay on the floor, naked below the waist, trembling and giving broken little whimpers from both the assault and being kept on edge for the last 20 minutes by Terry’s mouth and hands. He was straining oh so beautifully against the silver silk scarf binding his hands behind his back.
His cock straining even more.
Terry was glad he decided against blindfolding him; it would have heightened the sensations for his boy, but seeing the conflicting emotions of shame and arousal in his expressive brown eyes was far more rewarding.
They had fought, ending with Terry trapping Daniel’s arms with his own, taunting him.
“You never had the strength, did you?”
“Blow me, asshole!” Daniel had spat out, before spitting in his face.
He also never did learn to watch his mouth…
He’d struggled at first, alternating between panic and anger, pleading and cursing at him to stop; then the tears followed. But eight minutes in, the anger and tears subsided as Daniel gave up fighting. Resigned to Terry’s ministrations, his breaths now coming in delicious little gasps, and moans.
He loved the fire in his boy, but Submission was a damn good look for him.
Terry’s pants were definitely much tighter than they were 20 minutes ago. He ignored it, though. That wasn’t exactly easy considering Daniel’s thighs were quivering in the most provocative manner — if he only knew just how badly Terry was tempted to take a bite of his inner thigh and truly mark him.
For now…
Daniel let out a choked moan as he massaged his balls, lips teasingly brushing over his cock.
Oh he was going to enjoy hearing his boy cry out in ecstasy when he finally let him come.
But not yet.
He would make him beg next time - and there would be a next time, giving Daniel this small taste has without a doubt ensured that.
Perhaps he’d even take a hand to his backside for his insolence, as adorable as it was. Administer blow after blow until his cheeks were glowing.. until he was deliciously squirming and writhing in his lap, begging for Terry’s forgiveness… for mercy…
But, he didn’t want to totally break him just yet. Breaking him too quickly would have him running or fighting him even harder.
He knew his boy — he’ll always be his boy, no matter how old he got — and he was a stubborn thing. Regardless of how many years had been lost between them, he knew not to rush him. Daniel would need time to accept his feelings if he was to come to him on his own.
Besides, this was meant to be a gift, an incentive, a little nudge in the right direction…
… Still, his boy did need a firm touch. He needed to learn.
And Terry just couldn’t help himself.
“Do you have any idea how you look right now?”
A gentle kiss to his swollen cock.
“Has it ever been this good with your wife?”
Daniel remained as stony-faced as he could manage in his position.
Admittedly, it was an unfair question to ask — and an irrelevant one.
The one that mattered…
“Has a man ever touched you like this before?”
Because he needed to know. And because he’d seen Lawrence and especially that sl**t-eyed Toguchi sniffing around his boy, like Daniel was a bitch in heat.
Well, he supposed, in a way, he is.
And Barnes… well, he got the message.
The grimace on Daniel’s face was enough to confirm he hadn’t. And the elation it brought him. It meant Terry would be his first in so many ways.
God, it meant he’d stayed faithful.
That alone earned Daniel his reward.
He grasped him tightly then, sealing his mouth over the head and giving him firm strokes; his other hand teasing his perineum — that did the trick.
Daniel let out a strangled cry, involuntarily thrusting his hips and himself further into Terry’s mouth. It wasn’t long until Daniel threw his head back, letting out a guttural moan as he came hard.
Watching him fall apart and completely come undone truly was a sight to behold. Something he’ll never forget.
And neither will Daniel.
Underneath the flush from his post-coital daze, he looks shellshocked.
Understandable; his boy had never experienced this kind of pleasure before.
Daniel was no doubt experiencing the full onslaught of the feelings and desires he had kept buried all these years, the ones Terry had just forced him to confront.
It was long overdue. Terry had accepted his feelings, and now it’s time for Daniel to do the same.
Time for Daniel to come back to where he belonged.
He gently takes his face in his hands and kisses him before he unties him and leaves; pocketing the silk scarf.
It won’t be long before he’ll finally have the pleasure of seeing what his beautiful boy will look like riding his cock.
Until then, the scarf that had touched Daniel’s beautiful hands was now wrapped around his cock. And he imagined his boy would feel just as smooth around him.
So he waited for his boy to come to him.
And waited.
But his boy never came.
No, the next knock on his door were two LAPD officers with a warrant for his arrest.
The charge: sexual assault of Daniel LaRusso.
He made bail, of course.
But to add insult to injury, he was almost immediately served with a Temporary Restraining Order barring any contact with Daniel and his family, and instructing him to stay a minimum distance of 100 feet away for the next 30 days.
How he managed to obtain one so quickly… The judge listed on the order was part of LaRusso’s little country club, no doubt.
He’d have her charged with collusion and disbarred.
GODDAMN LITTLE PRICK!
Even if he wasn’t convicted and placed on the sex offender list, the charges alone would severely hamper, if not totally derail his plans.
LaRusso, you little bastard… you fucking tease!
He planned this.
Somehow he’d planned this and once again Terry had underestimated him.
He would have given him the world.
Okay, Danny Boy. Okay.
Now the real pain begins.
Title: Breathe
Sequel to: Something You’ll Never Forget (I Know I Won’t)
Pairing: Daniel LaRusso/Terry Silver
Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS, murder, strangulation, rape, stalking, obsession, suicide, Terry Silver is his own warning, in fact Terry Silver is flat out delulu
Summary: After the events of “Something You’ll Never Forget (I Know I Won’t),” Terry makes bail… and now… the real pain begins.
He wept softly as he rocked Daniel’s too still body in his arms…
He understood, too late, his boy simply wanted to know if he mattered more to him than Cobra Kai.
This had been a test to see if he would choose what mattered most, and he’d failed.
He’d been waiting for him at Miyagi-Do.
He just wanted to… he doesn’t know… but he needed Daniel to know.
Terry needed Daniel to know that for all the things he’d ever experienced… Viet Nam… the fear… the trauma…
Never had he experienced heartbreak like that at the hands of Daniel LaRusso.
His Danny Boy…
There were moments he was sure Daniel was pure Cobra, more than he or Kreese ever were.
He thought he’d never been more sure than the moment he learned what his boy was capable of: Orchestrating his arrest, the restraining order… setting everything he had worked to rebuild to burn to ash once more.
All of his patience and planning… all his years of therapy… gone with one look from his boy… a single threat of walking away…
But when he came out of the shadows, and Daniel jumped back, and ordered him to leave — screamed for him to get out.
Out of nowhere his anger dissipated; instead, Terry broke down and fell to his knees, grabbing Daniel around his waist, begging him… “don’t make me go, don’t push me away, please”…. never had he willingly shown such weakness and vulnerability in his life…
… and still Daniel tried pulling away… panicking and screaming and tripping them both to the ground with Terry on top of his back…
“DON’T TOUCH ME! DON’T TOUCH ME!”
The cruelty in his boy.
And, God help him, his anger has returned and turned into an all consuming rage. All he could think was how much he wanted him to hurt! To make him suffer for the way he had deliberately made Terry suffer, and break him for it.
Because Terry was suffocating and he couldn’t breathe…
So he wouldn’t breathe…
He wound the silver scarf around the swanlike throat and pulled tight… tighter…
"Terr—" he'd choked out, before his eyes rolled back and he finally went still under him.
And he was done waiting, done drawing this out. No, this was pleasure for Terry and pain for Daniel.
“I told you not to play with fire,” he voice shook in fury, as he undid his belt and pants, before roughly yanking down Daniel’s, “didn’t I?”
He took one moment to appreciate the enticing view, smoothing a hand over the cheeks he could only dream about over the decades; now a reality in front of him. Any ounce of regret he might have felt at their first time ruined by fury and blood was overtaken and consumed by that decades old darkness that had been caged too long.
There was no going back.
He took that one moment before spitting into his palm, and greasing his cock with the barest amount, because he didn’t deserve lube… he deserved every second of the torture he was about to endure…
And he shoved in, uncaring of the damage to delicate flesh and the blood that followed — satisfied even.
“You used me!” thrust “You used me for a trophy” thrust “and then walked away” thrust “without a backward” thrust “glance!”
His hands yanked upward on the silk material, pulling the scarf tighter, while pushing down between Daniel’s shoulders blades. Daniel couldn’t cry out, could barely breathe, body twitching in agony; didn’t matter - he knew he was in excruciating pain, while he was in utter bliss.
He was so very right after all… his boy was as smooth as silk on the inside… Smooth as velvet… He never knew people actually saw stars when they came.
He let his breathing come back under control… but his hands… were still pulling on the scarf around his boy…
… who was laying too still…
NO.
He jerked his hands away from the scarf and turned his form onto his back, and frantically tried to give the breath he'd stolen from him back… mouth-to-mouth… chest compressions… mouth-to-mouth… chest compressions…
BREATHE!
God, Danny - sweetheart - please breathe…
He tried listening for a heartbeat, but the horrible wail that tore from him drowned out the sound that wasn’t there.
He simply dragged his boy up into his arms, silently crying as he rocked him, whispering apologies and begging forgiveness to unhearing ears.
He doesn’t know how long he sat there, doesn’t know how long it was before he was discovered by Lawrence, Toguchi and (regrettably) Daniel’s children.
He knows their presence is the only reason he woke up in a hospital three days later, miraculously still alive… in pain (though it would never come close to what he felt when Daniel’s body was ripped away from his arms)… but he was still alive…
Just another regret.
A regret he remedied when he plead guilty, and requested the death penalty. He’s not the first convicted murderer in history to do so; but it still sent shockwaves through the Valley.
But he didn’t do this out of any sense of nobility… not even because he deserved to die for what he did… no, again he was selfish - he did this to see his boy that much sooner.
The only solace he had found through this tragedy was when he belatedly realized that his name was the last thing the love of his life ever breathed.
And so he was sentenced to death by lethal injection.
But he was given a surprise visit by Samantha on the day of his execution.
She didn’t want his apologies, she wanted to know why.
“Nothing I could tell you would ever make sense, nor should it. All I can tell you is that I wanted to believe I could change. I tried to pretend I wasn’t a monster, but I am. And your father… despite what I’ve done, I love him.”
And he loved me.
But he left that unspoken. She would never accept that. Never be ready for that.
Like father, like daughter.
Predictably she reacted in shock and denial, but he held her gaze and allowed her to see the naked and undeniable truth from him. The rage was still there, but so too was the quiet realization and acceptance of his admission.
“I’ve never felt more pain than the moment I realized what I’d done. I’ll never forgive myself for it.
“You don’t have to forgive me. But, Samantha — don’t let this consume you or your family like it did me.
“For over 30 years I’ve thought of nothing else but all the ways my life could have been different if I had just made a different choice - the right choice. I wanted something beautiful, and I had the chance to have a future with him… but now, if I could go back and change everything, I’d go back to the start of it all… and I’d kill Kreese. And me.”
That surprised her.
“So that you, your dad, and your family could live a happy life. Safe.”
She sat, unsure of how to take that. “But you can’t.”
“No,” he admitted, “But you will be safe from now on, Samantha. I’ll be going soon, and I’m taking Cobra Kai with me. It’s already done. It’s only a matter of time - they just don’t know it. And one day, you and your family can stop looking over your shoulder. It’s the one unselfish thing I can do.”
He watched her, the daughter they never had, leave knowing she would be safe.
He briefly wondered what she would do with the money he was leaving her and her brother… how she would react when they discovered they were among the beneficiaries, but no point in dwelling.
And when the guard came for him, he didn’t cry, he didn’t have second thoughts, he did not beg for mercy. Not even as they strapped him down. Not even when they inserted the I.V.
This was Mercy, unintentional as it were.
Daniel was waiting for him on the other side.
And he would find in death what he could not find in life — Love.
He was still smiling as they depressed the plunger.
Title: The Roots Are Strong
Sequel: Breathe (Third in the Something You’ll Never Forget series)
Pairing: Daniel LaRusso/Terry Silver
Characters: Daniel LaRusso, Terry Silver, Johnny Lawrence, Samantha LaRusso, Anthony LaRusso, Amanda LaRusso, Miguel Diaz, Carmen Diaz, Robby Keene, John Kreese, Kim De Eun, Chozen Toguchi, Mike Barnes.
Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS, death penalty, references to murder both past and present
Summary: Terry is executed, and everyone deals with the aftermath.
Samantha was curled next to Miguel on the couch, Anthony passed out on the other side of her, his head on her lap and a protective hand on his shoulder. He had progressively grown even thinner over the last six months.
Even Johnny had tried to get him to eat more — couldn’t help it. Kid was starting to look as skinny as his dad during his pencil thin days of high school… Always had to fight the urge to shove a sandwich down the little twerp’s throat back then.
Amanda had seemed to age ten years. A heavily pregnant Carmen was by her side doing her best to provide comfort.
The rest of Miyagi-Do/Eagle Fang were scattered about, keeping watch. Standing guard.
It was happening. Right now.
Johnny, Mike, and Chozen were present to make sure the bastard was dead and gone. No tricks this time.
And Robby.
There was no stopping him.
“He was there for me and I stabbed him in the back - I never even got to apologize… I need to be there. I need to see that asshole pay. He’s the reason for all of it.”
Johnny nodded.
“Ok, you’re 18 now. You can decide. But if it gets to be too much, then we’re out. No judgment. And no questions. Ok?”
It was incredibly anti-climatic.
But the son-of-a-bitch still died smiling.
Whatever. Hell will wipe it off his face the second he lands there.
They switched off the monitor once he’d flatlined and closed the curtain.
And that was that.
Afterwards, everyone departed, and it felt like a fucked up version of everyone walking out of a Sunday matinee.
Show’s over… time to go home…
But the son-of-a-bitch was gone.
That was one down as far as Johnny was concerned. There was still a fight left for what remained of Cobra Kai and Kim Da-Eun.
Or so he had thought.
Their demise had been anticlimactic as well.
Kreese met his end in prison the day of Silver’s execution.
A shank to the jugular and no one was talking.
No one cared.
With Kreese and Silver gone, Kim Da Eun had simply packed up and left.
If she planned to continue her grandfather’s legacy, it wouldn’t be in the Valley. And that’s all that mattered.
When Silver’s lawyer reached out the day after his execution, all of them were prepared for a battle beyond the grave. Something they should have seen coming.
No one expected he’d named Johnny and the LaRusso kids among the beneficiaries of his will.
They still expected some kind of trap. A deal with the devil. Maybe a cursed rabbit’s foot or something.
“To Samantha LaRusso and Anthony LaRusso, daughter and son of Daniel LaRusso, I leave a total sum of $200 million dollars to be split equally between both parties.”
He hadn’t counted on Anthony being the one to explode. He had been so quiet and shut down the whole time. But they all knew it was coming sooner or later.
He popped out his chair and almost up ended the desk before Johnny and Chozen were able to subdue him.
“Does he think money can fix this?! NO! I don’t want his goddamn money. I want my dad back!”
Amanda and Chozen had ushered him and Samantha out of the office.
“To John Lawrence, I leave in its entirety the title and brand ownership of Cobra Kai, LLC, to include its dojos—“
The rest he’d left to various charities and anti-bullying organizations, blah blah blah.
Douche.
In the end, they had each taken the inheritance.
Sam and Anthony had no clue where to go from here, though.
But Cobra Kai was now officially his. He knew what had to be done.
He’d retired the moniker and sold most of the dojos — there’d been a lot. He made a decent sized fortune, more than enough to secure a house — a real house — for his family, close enough to the LaRussos… he could afford to send all three of the kids to college if that’s the route they took...
Cobra Kai was gone.
And in its place stood Miyagi-Do — now officially co-owned by Chozen, Sam and Anthony, with Amanda acting as trustee until they reached 18; and with Johnny and Chozen as head instructors.
Carmen and Shannon managing the finances and accounts.
Finally.
The head of the snake had been cut off.
It was over.
For Cobra Kai. For Kreese. For Silver.
For Daniel.
But Miyagi-Do would live on, and be here long after they were gone.
All of them were going to be okay.
Because the roots are strong, so the tree will survive.
A/N: Terry did NOT see Daniel when he passed over. Nope. He woke up in his own Hell Loop losing the 85 tournament and watching Daniel walk away, smiling, over and over and over…
oh, sex? actually, can you just beat me up homoerotically so i can go home and jerk off about it later?
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fakebwitch · 2 days ago
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rafe finds handcuffs in your room…
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
“you done?” rafe asked you for the third time, wandering around your room occasionally taking in his hands a polaroid, plush or a book — whatever was in front of him — observing it and scrutinizing it, trying to make the time pass as quickly as possible. “5 minutes” you said finishing applying the mascara, catching in the reflection of the mirror the figure of rafe intent on observing a small stuffed animal.
technically you were supposed to go to a restaurant for dinner, but rafe had shown up at your house early and you still had to finish getting ready, so now he was in your room waiting for you to finish your makeup. “you got many of this uh?” he said referring to the plushies scattered on your bed and a some on the shelves, “rafe stop touching everything” you said turning briefly to him, he put the plush on the bed raising his hands in the air whispering a little “okay”.
“what are you doing now?” he asked you approaching slowly, his brows farrowed as he watched you search in a drawer full of those that looked like pencils in his eyes. “lip liner” you said grabbing one in your hands, rafe watched you without saying anything as you began to trace the contour of your lips.
he looked at the watch on his wrist letting out a small sigh, he was getting bored. he approached a chest of drawers near the bed, the first drawer was slightly open and his eyes caught a glimpse of something that immediately caught his attention, it was perhaps the second time he entered your room so he had not yet explored what you were “hiding”. you had been dating for a month, the first time in your room had been the previous week, but beyond a heated make out session and foreplay nothing had happened, you had not yet had sex.
too focused on making the contour of the lips perfect you hadn’t noticed that rafe, too taken by curiosity, had not been able to hold back and had opened the first drawer all the way, very slowly. all your bras and panties were neatly folded together with some babydolls. rafe was taken by surprise, turning to give you a quick look and check that you were still busy with the lip liner. he couldn’t stop the hand that moved between the various bras, quickly observing the decorations, the details, the colors, and not to mention the panties, he couldn’t look at them like he really wanted — because they were all neatly folded — otherwise you would have noticed his intrusion.
while his hands rummaged through the various babydolls, his mind wandered quickly, imagining what you would look like wearing them. the fact that you hadn’t had sex yet certainly didn’t help, he was currently whipped sexually, and seeing all those things didn’t help, but then something hard met his fingers, rafe’s eyes widened quickly, giving you a quick look before giving into temptation.
noticing you were still busy — you were applying lip gloss — extremely curious he pulled out the unknown object from where it was hidden, and they were... handcuffs. he almost choked on his own saliva, they had their typical silvery color but they were covered with a baby pink fur. he quickly recovered, a smink grew on his face as he turned towards you, the handcuffs dangled between his hands.
“handcuffs, huh?” he examined them, catching your attention, a mischievous grin painted on his face “i didn’t know you were into this kind of thing” you quickly turned to him, your eyes slightly wide as you got up from your seat walking towards him, “rafe where did you get them?”.
rafe smirked, holding the handcuffs out of your reach as you approached him, his eyes glinting with amusement. “oh, they were just sitting in your drawer,” he teased, swinging them lazily back and forth, “you know, like an invitation for me to find them.”
“rafe” you warned, crossing your arms, though you could feel your cheeks warming. you hated how easily he could fluster you. “give me them now” you said trying to grab the handcuffs from his firm grip. he tilted his head, stepping back a little, clearly enjoying your reaction. “oh, come on” he drawled, inspecting the soft pink fur around the cuffs. “these are… cute” he said trying to hold back from laughing.
“rafe cameron, i swear—” you lunged forward, trying again to grab the cuffs, but he dodged, laughing as he held them high above his head. “nah think i need some explanation” he said looking down at you, his eyes lingering with amusement and something more, lust maybe?. you groaned, standing on your tiptoes as you tried to reach his hand. “seriously, rafe, give them back. they’re a gift from my friends. they’re not even—”
“not even what?” he interrupted, raising a brow. “not even used? ‘cause judging by how red your face is right now, i’d say you definitely—”
“rafe!” you cut him off, swatting at his arm. he laughed harder, finally lowering the cuffs enough for you to snatch them out of his hand.
“i’m just saying” he continued, smirking as he watched you shove them back into the drawer, “if you want to try something… different, you can just tell me. no need to keep secrets, babe.”
you slammed the drawer shut, turning to face him with an exasperated look, “you’re impossible.” he gave you a teasing smile getting closer to you, his hands gripping your waist, his face got closer to yours, moving to you ear. “although” he whispered, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes, “if you ever do want to put those to use… i wouldn’t mind.” he said placing a small kiss under your ear, his words lingered on your head more than they should’ve. you bite your lip as his eyes met yours, he surely knew how to get under your skin.
you shook you head quickly recovering from what had just happened, shoving his chest playfully, “i’ll let you know” you simply said with a teasing smile, walking past him to grab your bag. rafe looked at you, his eyes lingering on your body for a bit too long as he rolled his tongue inside his check, his fist tightened around his side.
“come on, we’ll be late” you said innocently leaving the room, turning off the light starting to walk down the corridor. rafe left the room staring at you for a few seconds, they way your hips moved, your back uncovered... he felt his pants getting too tight, you were driving him crazy.
“you can’t keep going on like this, you know that uh?” he said walking slowly, you laughed shaking your head, it was going to be a looong night.
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xoxochb · 2 days ago
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oh hey guess who got sick 😁
——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖
“don’t cry.” percy pauses to watch you. you disobey his orders and let tears roll over your cheeks. “please don’t cry, sweet girl. if you cry, I’m going to cry.”
“can’t help it.” your pout grows more prominent. “I don’t feel good.”
percy sighs. “I know, sweet girl. let’s get you in the bath, hm?”
“I’ll get vertigo.”
“no you won’t, I’ll be right here.”
he outstretches his hand. you take it reluctantly and let him pull you out of bed. like presumed, your vision begins to blur and you feel a sudden lightheadedness. you quickly latch onto percy and bury your head into his shoulder, closing your eyes to stop the feeling.
he holds you until you have returned to normal state and lift your head. “let’s go.”
“yes ma’am.”
slowly, he begins walking you to the bathroom. very slowly as you previously demanded he do. when you reach the designated room you lean against the sink counter. percy stands in front of you and begins stripping you of your clothes.
“taking advantage of a sick girl?”
“okay, fine.” his hand stops at the waistband of your pajama bottoms. “then you take your clothes off.”
“you want me to do a strip tease? oh, you dirty boy!”
nonetheless, you begin removing the rest of your clothes one by one. once you are reduced to nothing you swiftly get into the tub, pulling your legs up to your chest and resting your cheek on your knee.
percy, on the other hand, picks up your discarded clothing on the floor and throws them in the laundry basket before coming over and sitting on the floor beside the tub. he watches you intently as your fingertips toy with the water.
“tell me how you’re feeling, sweet girl.”
“like shit.”
he presumed as much. “let’s get you washed up.”
you allow him to do so. as sickness was not the most enjoyable time in your life, you were equally as excited that you were able to be babied by your boyfriend without a shitty excuse.
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amirasainz · 2 days ago
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Can you do one similar to lights camera flashing but Lando version like maybe he gets run down and sick or something
Love your work 🤍
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
-xoxo babygirl 🧡
@bucket-hat-lando 🧡
Feverish and Clingy
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The early morning sun filtered through the curtains of their Monaco apartment, casting soft golden light over the room. Yn stirred first, her eyes fluttering open. Beside her, Lando’s face was flushed, his breathing labored with a faint wheeze. His forehead was pressed against her shoulder, the heat radiating from him was far beyond normal.
She frowned, her heart tightening with concern as she gently reached out to brush his curls from his face. His skin was clammy to the touch, and even in his sleep, he seemed restless.
“Lando,” she whispered softly, testing his forehead with her palm. The heat confirmed what she already knew. He was burning up.
“Mmm,” he groaned but didn’t fully wake. His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer as though even in sleep, he refused to let her go.
Carefully, Yn wiggled out of his hold, doing her best not to disturb him. He whined softly at the loss of contact but settled back against the pillows, his breathing uneven. Yn slipped on a hoodie over her sleepwear and padded out into the kitchen, determination replacing her worry. If there was one thing she could do, it was take care of her sick boyfriend. Lando had been pushing himself to the brink lately, traveling from race to race, and now his body was clearly fighting back.
---
Twenty minutes later, the smell of fresh toast, scrambled eggs, and tea filled the apartment. Yn balanced the tray with one hand and opened the bedroom door with the other. She set the tray down on the nightstand before perching on the edge of the bed.
“Lando,” she murmured, her voice soft. She leaned over to press a cool cloth against his forehead, rousing him gently. “Baby, wake up. You need to eat something.”
Lando stirred, his eyes fluttering open slowly. His brown eyes, usually so bright and mischievous, were dull and glassy. He let out a groggy groan, his lips parting as he rasped, “Yn?”
“Right here, love.” She ran her fingers through his curls, her touch soothing. “You’ve got a fever, and you’re coughing in your sleep. I made you breakfast.”
“I don’t want food,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse. Instead, he reached out for her, his hand weakly grabbing at her wrist. “Just want you.”
“Lando,” she said with a soft laugh, though her heart ached at seeing him like this. “You need to eat. You’ll feel worse if you don’t.”
“No,” he protested weakly, his grip tightening just slightly. “Stay.”
Yn sighed but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at her lips. This was typical Lando when he was sick—clingy, needy, and utterly impossible. “I’m not going anywhere. But you have to eat a little first, okay?”
With great effort, Lando propped himself up against the headboard, his messy curls flopping into his eyes. He gave her a pout that would have been more effective if he didn’t look so miserably sick.
“Fine,” he relented. “But only if you stay right here.”
“I’m not leaving, I promise,” she said, grabbing the tray and placing it over his lap. “Here. Start with some tea.”
He took the mug with trembling hands, and Yn quickly steadied it for him. “Thanks, love,” he murmured, his voice thick with affection.
---
Once he managed to eat half the toast and sip on some tea, Lando seemed to perk up slightly. But his newfound energy wasn’t directed toward recovery—it was directed toward clinging to Yn. As soon as the tray was off his lap, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down beside him.
“Lando,” she laughed as he buried his face in her neck, his curls tickling her skin. “You’re supposed to be resting.”
“I am resting,” he mumbled, his voice muffled. “You’re the best pillow.”
“You’re hopeless,” she teased, but she wrapped her arms around him anyway. “Are you comfortable, Mr. Norris?”
“Very,” he murmured sleepily. “Don’t move, okay?”
“I need to clean up the kitchen,” she said softly, but as soon as she tried to shift, Lando tightened his arms around her like a vice.
“Nooooo,” he whined, dragging out the word like a petulant child. “Stay. Please, Yn. Don’t leave me.”
“Lando,” she sighed, running her fingers through his hair. “I’m not leaving you. I’ll be back in two minutes, tops.”
“I’ll time you,” he grumbled, finally letting her go with great reluctance.
Yn pressed a quick kiss to his forehead before slipping out of bed. She hurried to the kitchen, her heart warming at his antics despite her concern for his health. True to his word, as soon as she returned, Lando was waiting with his phone in hand.
“You took longer than two minutes,” he accused, though his voice lacked any real bite.
“By ten seconds,” she replied, climbing back into bed. Lando immediately wrapped himself around her, sighing contentedly.
“Ten seconds too long,” he muttered, nuzzling into her shoulder.
---
The rest of the day followed the same pattern. Every time Yn tried to get up—whether to grab a glass of water, make him more tea, or fetch medicine—Lando would whine and plead for her to stay.
“Yn,” he whined when she tried to stand up again in the afternoon. His voice cracked, making her turn back to him with a soft smile.
“Lando, I’m just getting you some cough syrup,” she said patiently.
“I don’t need it,” he argued, reaching out to grab her hand. “I just need you.”
“Lando Norris,” she said, crossing her arms in mock sternness. “You’re taking that medicine whether you like it or not.”
He groaned dramatically, flopping back against the pillows like a petulant child. “Fine. But only if you promise to come right back.”
“I promise,” she said, chuckling as she walked toward the bathroom.
When she returned, Lando was staring at her with big, puppy-dog eyes. She handed him the small cup of syrup, and he grimaced before downing it in one go.
“Good boy,” she teased, ruffling his curls.
“You’re lucky I love you,” he grumbled, though the corners of his lips twitched upward.
---
As the hours passed, Yn remained by Lando’s side, indulging his every whim. They watched old movies together, though Lando drifted in and out of sleep, his head resting in her lap. Yn stroked his hair absentmindedly, her heart aching at how vulnerable he looked.
“Yn,” he murmured at one point, his voice barely audible.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Thank you,” he said, his eyes fluttering open to meet hers. “For taking care of me.”
“Of course,” she said softly, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “You’d do the same for me.”
“Still,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re amazing. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’d survive,” she teased gently. “But it’d be a lot harder, wouldn’t it?”
“Definitely,” he agreed, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Yn felt her cheeks heat at his words, but she quickly shook her head, brushing them off. “You’re just saying that because you’re sick and delirious.”
“No,” he said, his tone surprisingly serious. “I mean it, Yn.”
Her heart swelled at his sincerity, and she leaned down to kiss him softly. “I love you, Lando,” she whispered against his lips.
“I love you too,” he murmured, his eyes already starting to close again.
---
By the time night fell, Lando’s fever had started to break, though he was still weak and clingy as ever. Yn helped him into a fresh set of pajamas and coaxed him to drink more water before they climbed back into bed together.
“Yn,” he said sleepily as she pulled the covers over them. “You’re not leaving, right?”
“Not going anywhere,” she assured him, pressing a kiss to his temple.
“Good,” he mumbled, already half-asleep. “You’re stuck with me forever.”
Yn smiled, her heart full as she held him close. “Forever sounds perfect.”
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burdenandacrop · 3 days ago
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˗ˏˋ ❝ italian leather sofa. ❞ ˎˊ˗
thank u to the wonderful @thecourtjester-e for being the reason this is being written, ur MIIIIND. this goes hand in hand with my cake AND schlatt obsession so ... does a twirl.
HEAVILY based on the song italian leather sofa by CAKE !
summary : for a schlatt & co video, your [ secret ] boyfriend decides to take you out shopping. showing off his douche-bag internet persona, unbeknownst to him; that was actually quite the turn on. with a little fashion show back at home, he shows you just how hungry he's been.
⋮ ⌗ ┆established relationship, secret relationship, schlatt is mean in this one, you're also decently famous!, dabbles in a bit of spoiling, power difference k!nk, degrading mixed with some praising, rough smut.
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the bright luminescent lights were beaming across the designer store, your hands gently trailing through the racks of numerous dresses. you weren't used to this sort of environment, but it was very quickly becoming second nature to you. to the internet's eye, you were schlatt's acquaintance who was mostly just known for your face. the running joke was that you were his personal thumbnail over-user, considering every video the two of you did got millions of views. almost the amount that his reaction videos got, and this was on his second channel. surprisingly, not a whole lot of people suspected you to be a pair. rather just an unconventional duo, which kind of worked on your end.
he brought the camera back up to your face, making you smile and droop your shoulders with a grin. "these good enough for you miss socialite?" schlatt sneers out, you wished the viewers could see just how cocky he looked in the moment. "brought her here to the most expensive mall in new york, nothing too smancy." he adds on, turning the camera to his face to wink and smile, "cause you know, i can afford that." god he was so insufferable, in a good way surprisingly. he brings the camera back to you, anticipating for you to say something. "i just need a dress for my event." you snicker out, rolling your eyes and searching the racks yet again.
"and of course you had to come here for it, didn't ya?" he teases, you just shake your head and continue to search the racks. eventually pulling out a red silk dress. schlatt was hoping to god the microphone wouldn't pick up how his breath hitched when he saw it. his mind already reeling on how it'd look on you. "this one?" you ask, looking at the camera with a smile. shaking the hanger and awaiting for schlatt to do anything but gawk. a part of you almost wanting to turn the camera right around just to show the viewers how down bad he was. "yeah get the red, brings out your rosacea real nice." he bites back with a chuckle.
you scoff at him and rub your cheek, worried that it was visible to the camera how aggravated your skin might've been. "yeah, get a purple tux to match your eyebags, dickhead." you groan out, hoping to one up him. you knew the viewers loved the bickering, especially with your one liners. "i'll get a ralph lauren one and call it a day, can't say you can do that." he replies with a smile, he knew you had your own money but he liked to occasionally throw in that he was a smidge more successful.
"yeah i can't wear a tux, no shit schlatt." you roll your eyes and stow the dress back on the rack. almost sending him into a panic, "editor, cut this." he stammers before leaning the camera down for a moment. "keep it, i'm buying it." he practically chokes out. your head whipping back to him with a smile, nodding and stowing the dress in between your arm. you secretly loved how he insisted on things like that, was kind of hot in a way.
he sighs in relief and brings the camera back up with a smile, going right back to his persona. "gonna buy anymore or are you too low on cash for it?" he stated, knowing damn well he'd be leaving this store with a dent in his wallet. "i'll have to look and see." you sigh out, looking to him for a moment before looking back to the racks. "you're no sydney sweeney but i'm sure it'll suffice." he stifles out, making you side eye him as you were just about to pull out another dress.
"and you're not hugh jackman with those chops." you say as you roll your eyes, pulling out another silk dress, except it was black. "now what about this one?" you state as if you didn't just plain insult him, the both of you knew it was just for viewer attention. "it looks like people will only be looking at the dress, saves the trouble of looking at your face." he snickers out, you look at him with a groan. suddenly seeing his lips mouth the words 'keep it. that one too.' it was so hilarious to see the switch, you just wished the rest could see, but of course, they couldn't. "you're truly such a gentleman, mommy must be so proud." you gruffly reply, making him shrug with a smug grin. "that she is." he measly replies.
"see what i put up with for clicks? she's so ungrateful." he adds on, rotating the camera back to his face with a sigh. you shake your head as you eye another dress, the royal blue was catching your eye. "and it seems miss socialite has found yet another dress that's gonna bankrupt her." schlatt chuckles out, panning the camera back over to you as you show off the dress with a smile. "isn't the color so nice?" you ask with the same cavity inducing smile, knowing it'd probably be clipped all over twitter. whatever, as long as it brought money with it. which is almost always did. you watched as schlatt sweetly grinned with a nod, hidden from the view of the lens. "how much is it again?" he says as he reaches for the dress to hang his fingers to the tag.
his eyes widening as he realized it was a $3000 dress, looking back up to you with a grin. he zoomed the lens into the tag, then slowly panned the camera back to his face. his eyes bugging out with his brows furrowed in a comical look, quickly dropping it for a more serious expression, "i spend that in an hour, anyways." he deadpans, making you scoff at him and turn yourself away from him. he looks up from the camera to see your irritated stature and belts out a low laughter, turning the camera right back to you. zooming right into your head, picking up how your head was shaking as you continued to browse the racks. "somebody's sour about that fact." schlatt teases, making you spin your head back to him with narrowed eyes. he was so unserious.
"what's this- event even about anyhow?" he honeyed, at least the question wasn't half bad. you leaned against the rack, twirling the hanger as you thought of how to answer. "it's for this upcoming body-care line, very prestigious." you reply with a grin, feeling a bit prideful that you did get invited to something like that anyhow. "they just don't invite majorly successful people to advertise their products, got it." he pokes, making you nudge his shoulder with a groan. the comments from him were never ending; but so was a lot of other things. "what? you don't think i can be a good representative of smelly goods?" he snickers out, drooping his shoulders at you with a slight pout. "yeah, you totally could." your tone couldn't be any more sarcastic.
he softly pumped a fist in the air and panned the camera back to him, "that's what i thought." he stated, looking back to you with a knowing smile. the little look giving you a good idea of how his ego was far from being bruised. "now if she could go through with this faster- i can get my watch." he sighs out, shaking his head at you as you continued to scroll through the racks. "this is the kind of greed that they talk about in the bible." he adds on, earning a little chuckle from you. his switch off button was no where to be found.
"a lot of talk coming from you, y'know?" you breathily reply, the weight of the dresses getting to you as they restlessly laid on your arm. "i'm allowed to talk." he snapped back, he noticed how the weight of the dresses were getting you as you bobbed your arm up and down to try and balance it. "look, now she's getting all tired. see what internet notoriety does?" he jokes, turning the camera back to your state. "tell that to a mirror." you reply with a chuckle, making him nod. "oh i do, every damn day baby." his tone was unbelievably cocky. though, another part of you was asking; why were you really liking it? now what did that say about YOU?
the camera had already been recording for a good thirty minutes, he followed you around for a short bit more. getting all the funny banter that he would need for the video, he already knew they would eat it up. it was you after all, you were basically an infinite money glitch. yeah, he was mean as shit to you on camera. he just didn't want people to interfere with your relationship, especially when the cameras were gone. he knew if his viewers, particularly his male viewers, knew he bagged such a beautiful girl. he'd never hear the rest of it on twitter, so it seemed it was the smarter decision. plus, what man likes to share? especially not him.
he stowed away his camera with a smile, immediately gripping his hand around your waist as the two of you reached the check-out line. "you're out of your mind if you think you're wearing any of those to that promo event." he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. you had a good five dresses in your arms, all together probably the amount that most people pay for a down payment on a bentley. "the black one's my favorite though." you whine out quietly, looking up into his eyes with a smile. "why do you think i don't want you wearing it out then?" he replies, his hands wandering up your back slowly. "just wear the blue one, cmon baby." he pleads. making you sigh and oblige to his request.
you knew exactly why he didn't want you wearing the black one, based on how you saw it was sewn. it'd look damn near painted on your figure, the blue one on the other hand was a lot more 'leave it up to your imagination' sort of deal. the two of you eventually made it up to the cashier, placing your dresses down as he checked the quality and the tag. "find everything to your expectations today, miss?" the cashier says as he begins to scan everything, his eyes a bit narrowed as he noticed the amount that was racking up. you fiddled your hands together in front of you, nodding to the cashier with a soft grin. "everything is to par." you felt so pretentious saying that, but you deserved it in a way.
you watched as the cashier raised his eyebrows to your reply, smiling to himself as he continued to scan the tags. his eyes almost lighting all the way up as the price continued to raise. you saw how his eyes wandered back to you, eyeing how your blouse sat on you. maybe a little too hard too, with a smile plastered on his face as he did so. schlatt let out a deep exhale, knowing it was loud enough to be a signal for him to keep his eyes where he needed them. if he wanted to keep them, that is. the cashier smiled and stood up more straight to eye the total, "$10,034.67, miss." he stated, almost not believing the price. schlatt watched how he was eyeing you, he was one to give second chances but he just blew that on how he was insistent on looking at you like that.
he took a step closer to the counter and leaned down slightly, just to throw it in the little cashier's face that he had a good six inches on him. cocky as ever, maybe some parts of the 'persona' were real after all. your eyes followed to him, noticing how irritated schlatt was getting to be. you knew you had to do something to get out of this, and pronto. you nervously smiled at the cashier before shuffling your hands to your purse, you couldn't imagine he was actually being serious about paying for all of this. that'd just be ridiculous. you felt his hand gently but strictly wrap around your wrist to halt your motion to try and grab your wallet. making you shoot your head back to him, "don't embarrass me like that." he says barely above a whisper. "you know i got it." he adds on with a sigh, pulling his wallet to whip out a black card of all his cards.
he used that card any chance he got, just to be annoying that he did in fact make that much. you watched as he handed it over to the cashier like it was nothing, looking back to you with a soft grin. "what?" he says as if he had no idea why you were looking at him like he had three heads. "douche." you roll your eyes with a smile. he shakes his head and leans his head down to reach you better, "you haven't seen anything yet." he whispers into your ear, you could practically hear the smug grin in his tone. the cashier carefully put all the dresses into the boxes, then slid into the bags. handing over the bag with a smile, "see you next time." he snarkily goodbyes, giving him a soft nod about to open your mouth to save the possibility of embarrassment. "oh you will." schlatt slyly replies before turning with you to leave, making sure to not let go of you for even a second. slightly tilting his head to eye the creep of a cashier, lowering his hand to your behind and nodding. he looked back to you and kissed the top of your head. was it prideful? yeah. did he care? no.
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schlatt's head reeled back into the couch's leather, eyes closed as he impatiently waited for your little fashion show. the one that you insisted wasn't going to take long, now having him sit for a good 20 minutes to himself. wasn't your fault though, you were just intensely afraid you would tarnish the dress by putting it on too quickly. okay, and basically gawking at yourself in the mirror for way too long. let a girl live. schlatt opened his eyes and peered them over to the coffee table that had his brand new longiene watch that was sitting in it's neat little box.
"oh, what the hell." he groaned out, leaning over and picking up the small box. smiling to himself as he took it out of the case, draping it around his wrist to snap on. did feel quite nice to have three thousand on his arm, a little ego boost if you will. he twisted it on his wrist, leaning back into the couch with a sigh. "you almost done in there, hon?" he yelled out, spreading his legs out as he fidgeted with the settings on his new watch. you patted down your dress, knowing it was probably best you just escape your little narcissistic moment. for now at least. you took one last look in the mirror, swooshing your hair on your shoulder so you could get one last peak on how nice the backless effect was.
"in there in a sec!" you yelled back from the bathroom, letting go of your hair and smiling to yourself as you opened up the door to walk down the hallway. hoping you were going to get the reaction you were hoping for from him, maybe then the money would seem worth it. he cocked his head to the side as he heard your footsteps, a grin growing on him as he saw the first impressions of the dress. you grazed your hand along your hip as you made your way in front of him. "lil spin for me?" he asked with a smile, leaning back into the couch and crossing his arms. you nodded and twirled yourself around slowly. he licked the roof of his mouth as he watched every movement, deeply stuck almost.
you crossed your hands together behind your back as you stood in front of him, the look on his face alone told you all you needed to know. "it's even backless!" you excitedly state, turning your back towards him to show it off better. "if you don't sit your ass down." schlatt says as he shakes his head, gesturing for you to come over with his finger. you raise an eyebrow and slowly walk over to him, leaning down and letting your palms rest on the leather. purposely not giving him what he wanted right away. looking right into his eyes and titling your head to his just a smidge closer. "i take it you like the dress?" you whisper out, his hands reaching up to your ribs. "do i like the dress, huh?" he mocks back at you with a grin, letting his hands roam around under your breast. his eyes failing him as he looked at how your hips looked poking out.
he leaned his head back and looked up and down at you without shame, almost trying to convey his pleading with his eyes. you leaned your knee onto the leather, cocking your head to the side as you continued to move yourself onto the couch. schlatt's mind reeling as he could see the silk tightening around your hips. "i've already got hypertension, are you trying to make it worse?" he gruffly stated, his hands wandering down right above your hips as he helped you settle on his lap. you roll your eyes as you lean your hands on the edge of the couch, right above his shoulders. "you're so dramatic." you snicker out, adjusting the edges of your dress that were riding up. that little notion not making him the happiest.
his hands went right to your thighs to trail up the fabric, his chest slowly puffing as more and more skin showed. "this is more like it." he muttered, bringing his hands up to your shoulders to toy with the straps as he looked at you. "you don't think?" he added, expecting you to be vocal. he knew exactly what he wanted you to say, which was to admit how needy he was getting you. he could see it by how you gently squirmed under his touch, stroking his ego a little further. you slowly nod and adjust your hips above him, "yes, this is better." you sigh out. which earns him a little chuckle, raising his hand up to cup your chin. "there's the money." he practically seethes out, racing his free hand to your breasts to give them a firm squeeze. it was pretty hard not to.
his hand reaches up so he can gently tug down at the offensive fabric covering you, you arch your back a little to give him a better view. "you trying to say thank you?" he asks, tracing his finger along the silky straps. you softly hum and nudge your shoulders with a smile. "point taken." he adds, pulling down the straps and dropping his hand from your chin to fully engorge his hands to your breasts as the delicate fabric fell onto your stomach. "and no bra? you're just trying to get in trouble." he seethes out, involuntarily bucking his hips up as he looked up into your eyes. watching how the friction was affecting you.
he reaches his hand up to the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss, gently groaning as your lips meet. his other hand still grabbing a selfish amount of your breast into it. you grind in with his hips, making him deeply exhale and drop his hand to your ass to give a sharp slap. you knew exactly what he wanted, and you knew exactly how you were going to do it. he gently pulled back from your lips after a moment, looking up at you. "i'm kinda exhausted from today, baby." he states, letting his hand grip along your ass again. that didn't mean he didn't want to do it, just meant he wanted you to do all the work. perhaps as a thank you.
you softly nod and lean down to your knees, feeling his hands leave you as you felt your knees hit the hard wood. you could see his smile above you as you began fiddling with his belt, his jeans practically making a tent. unbuckling the belt and pulling it off slowly, knowing damn well he wasn't in the mood for anything that slow. it was just fun to be a bit of a tease sometimes. he trailed his hand to the top of your scalp, ruffling your hair gently as he looked down at you. "cmon baby." his voice cooed, you sigh and unbutton his jeans. letting the zipper come undone as you pulled down at them. being met with a rather aggressive hard on from him.
you looked up to him, his fingertips running through your hair as he smiled down at you. then dropping his hand down the side of your face, shaking his head as he ran a thumb along your bottom lip. "so pretty." he whispered, letting his hand drop to your chin as your hands fiddled with his boxers. his anticipation only growing further, but he wasn't satisfied just yet. he fluttered his eyes shut as he felt your mouth wrap around him, his hand shooting right back to your hair to grab a fistful. you paced yourself as you listened to his grunts coming from his stubbornly closed lips. he wanted so badly to just slam your head down, but right now; it felt way too good to mess anything up. he could afford the patience.
he kept his grip on your hair, his mouth gaping open as he looked down to the saliva mess you were creating from your tongue. he wasn't usually the biggest fan of messy sex, but today would just have to be an exception. bucking his hips slightly, causing you to accidentally slam your mouth around his base. even the gagging sound beginning to excite him a little too much. he liked the sound of struggle, knowing it was hard to keep up. he leaned his head into the leather and looked down to see your eyes glaring at him, even the gloss over your eyes made him want to bite back. "keep it up with your mouth and i'll give you what your hips are begging for." he choked out, his stomach twitching from underneath his shirt. he knew was cusping at the edge.
you felt your body warm up at his words, only making you give him a real show with your mouth. his grunts becoming incredibly obvious now, he wanted the real thing. he let you pump him for a few more moments before pulling your hair to unlatch your lips from him. watching as the saliva slowly dripped from your gaping mouth, snickering to himself. "uh-uh, i want you up here baby." he breathily stated, releasing your hair from his fist. he watched as you crawled back onto his lap with a shit eating grin. "hike it up for me." he added on, trailing his hands on your thighs as you curled up the fabric around your hips. he looked down to your underwear and shook his head, "off." he demanded, making you quickly pull of the couch for a moment to toss them off of you. quickly plopping back onto his lap, his eyes zoned on the new sight.
his fingers quickly moved under you to rub along your clit, smiling to himself as it immediately made an effect on you. "you like me spending all that money on you?" he asked, continuing his pace. you shakily nod, only able to respond in needy whimpers. "come on, answer me baby. or i'll have to stop rubbing on you like this." he snickered out, knowing he was going get the exact answer he wanted. "y-yes!" you choke out, bucking your hips with the movement of his fingers. "and you just love paying back, don't you?" he sighs out, looking down to his fingers. your hands grip along the edge of the couch, almost about to fall back. "you just get whatever you want, huh?" he adds on, biting down on his tongue as he fastened his pace along you.
his kept his eyes down, slowly trailing his fingers from your clit to your slit with a grin. "you want this, don't you baby?" he groaned out as he teased the tip of his finger on your slit. you looked at him and leaned forward, almost trying to push it inside yourself. "mm-mm, don't get shy now- if you don't say what you want, i can't give it to you baby. tell me." he seethed out, shaking his head softly at your impatience. "please- give it to me." you whimper out, progressively just getting more and more needy. with that, and a click of his tongue, he shoved one finger inside you. your eyes shutting as it reached fully inside. "already two?" you groan out, earning him a little chuckle. "it's just one for now, baby." your hips immediately pressing down into his legs as he curled his finger. it really was unbelievable just how nice the one felt.
he watched as your head flailed back to his motions, his free hand reaching up your chest. letting his fingers grip along your neck gently, making you fix your head back down. "show me that you want more, baby. i know a sweet- sweet whore like you can." he sneered out, letting his grip tighten along your throat slightly. your noises only growing more desperate as he curled his fingers right where it needed to be, your hips switching along him. he watched how your hips moved with ease, knowing how good it feel right on his dick; but he could be patient. this was more than worth it. "god- you fucking slut." he seethed out, popping another finger in as he smoothed out his pacing. "you deserved another one for that." he added on, pumping his fingers in and out.
you lean down and press your palm into his chest to stabilize yourself, huffing for air as he continued. he snickered to himself as he could see how quickly you were just giving in, bringing his free hand to cup your face as he kept his finger's pacing. "it's a miracle you can take my cock when you act like this with my damn fingers." he muttered, keeping his grip tight on your face. your eyes fluttering open and shut as he kept on, unsure on how much longer he could go with this before you would completely unravel. "got you in the palm of my hand, don't i?" he adds on, swallowing deeply and waiting for you to do anything but whine out. your hips begin to whine on his fingers, making him look down at the mess you were creating with yourself. "fucking yourself back with my fingers? show me how you really feel, hm?" he grunted out, smiling as he noticed how close you were to coming right on him.
slowly nodding with a grin as he noticed the immense relief that washed on your face, feeling your hips slowly come to a stop. he groaned and pulled out his fingers of you, settling both his hands now on your hips as he raised your body up. "my turn, yeah? only fair right?" he seethed out, your body was already so exhausted. you knew it'd be worth it though, adjusting the fabric of the dress before settling yourself on his dick. schlatt's hands gripping tightly into your hips as you pushed all the way down, a bit surprised you did it so quickly. no questions. just how he wanted you. you kept your hand on his chest as you bounced yourself, his eyes transfixed on how your breasts were bouncing with you. a part of him wanting to just completely take over.
he slapped his hand along your back, causing you to fall right where he wanted you. running his fingertips into your back as he latched his lips onto your breast, lapping his tongue the best he could with your rapid bouncing. his eyes closed as he focused on sucking down on you, enjoying every last moment. roaming his hand along your back as he pulled you in close, smashing every inch of your flesh against his face. his other hand giving a sharp slap on your ass as you were reeling him in more and more. choking out a yell, only encouraging you to keep your vigorous pacing on his cock. your arms wrapping along his shoulders as you wailed out, schlatt's body stiffening as he felt your insides tighten around him. unable to control himself, his lips letting go of your breasts. his head falling to the back of the couch, all he could do was look at you and pant. it couldn't be more perfect.
you were so drowned in the pleasure, you didn't even realize how intense you were going. oh but he knew, letting out a low groan as you continued. his eyes failing to keep open, but he needed them open so he could see how good your tits looked while you bounced so desperately. almost like your life depended on it. his hand trailed up your sides, the dress had basically became a hip cover at this point. the only thing you could hear from him was a few 'fucks' and 'shit's underneath his breath, watching him beneath you as he struggled to keep himself together. "god- don't let me stop you now." he groaned out, bucking his hips to meet with yours as your pacing began to lessen. looking up into your eyes as he noticed how tired and shaky your legs were getting.
finally having enough, just wanting to rummage every bit inside of you. grabbing onto your sides and bucking his hips up and down, a pace you couldn't do if you tried. he smiled as he watched your lips fall agape, you really were just letting go. just for him. he'd be lying if he said that's not what he wanted. "come on. let go." he stifles out through his grunts, giving you another rash slap to the ass. "this is exactly what you wanted, hm?" he adds, looking up to you and expecting an immediate answer. he noticed the side of your ass reddening, only exciting him further to do it again. "answer me." he grunts out, practically branding your ass with his palm. you yelp out and grip onto the edge of the couch to not complete fall over, "g-god yes!" you shakily whimper out, huffing in and out.
he flails his head back and continues to mindlessly pump into you, almost choking on his breath as he climaxes. slowing down his pacing as he lets it fill inside, rubbing his hands around the raised up skin on your hip. the heat radiating off his palms. "you wanna show me the other dresses?" he snickers out, trying to catch up with his breaths. running a hand through his hair with a smile, you groan and pull yourself off of him. almost stumbling on your own movements, "if that's what you want." you huff out, watching as he began to pull up his boxers. "what? scared of round two?" he stifles out, sitting up more upright as he watched you fix yourself back up. you roll your eyes with a grin as you pull up the straps of the dress, his grin growing as he's reminded just how good you look.
you peel up the fabric up to cover up your breasts, wincing as you try to move your hips. the silk pairing perfectly with your dampened skin, and he was well aware of how beautiful it looked. "yeah. i'm taking you back to that store soon." he mutters, eyeing you up and down. "you've made it clear it's worth it."
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author's note : i think this was the most excited i've gotten off a one shot idea, maybe Ever. perhaps it's because it's based on one of my favorite CAKE song, but none the less @thecourtjester-e is a mastermind and i appreciate the patience and creativity that was helped put into this. so PLEASE check them out !! 💌 their new series is one of my personal favs and i'm sure it will be yours too :,))
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gravedwe11er · 2 days ago
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Some more texaid for the @keferon mecha au! Comes after part one and part two, though it can be read on its own with just the knowledge of the AU itself.
Cw: Vortex, a bit of innuendo and semi-graphic descriptions of violence and death
A new point of view on recent happenings in the shatterdome, and also Felix.
Or: Vortex is here, and he has Opinions.
Vortex really likes Felix.
Has liked him ever since he saw this quiet, boring-looking little doc sneak around the base at night, and instead of going to hook up with someone - like a normal fucking person would - breaking into the research lab and messing with quint corpses. At first, he thought it might have been an op of some sort, but no! The guy just really liked cutting the things apart. Which- Tex could relate, honestly.
Seeing Felix bumbling about in the dark and excitedly muttering to himself through the cams quickly became the highlight of his mind-numbingly boring days. And then, to absolutely no surprise, the man got himself caught, and things went from good to great real fast.
As he watches little Mr. First Aid dig dried blood out of his crevices, with a stolen butter knife of all things, he really has to applaud himself for how well it all turned out.
Here’s one thing about Vortex – he likes violence. Always has - it’s one of the very few fun things that was never in short supply during his life, and the same goes for his after-life. And now that his other sources of entertainment are largely, hah, dead in the water? He very much likes to indulge.
Despite that, the first pilot he killed actually was a complete accident. He’d been pretty freshly dead, floundering around in his new body, when whatever control he’d manage to wrangle from the mech had been ripped out from under his hands. In his horrified flailing, he somehow managed to jerk the guy’s seat so hard he cracked his skull open on the console, and that was that. Only once he felt his death throes through the neural link had Vortex even realized what had happened.
And fuck, was he livid! Now, let’s be honest, Tex could absolutely get behind some rough manhandling of his person in the right situations, but this was outright violating! And like hell was he just going to put up with it.
Here’s another thing about Vortex – he hates being told what to do. And gee-whiz, it really doesn’t get any more being-told-what-to-do than some tiny fuck crawling into what is now your actual head and moving you around like an overgrown puppet.
So, he kept pushing. The next few casualties were only partly accidental, him testing out his range of motion, so to speak. And once he figured out how to establish himself as the dominant consciousness in the mech, even with a pilot plugged in-
Hah, let’s just say they definitely weren’t accidents after that.
It was part spite, part entertainment, and part just wanting those bastards out, their minds grating against his consciousness and giving him the closest thing he has to a headache nowadays. And what fun it was! He’d never really gotten to kill people before, not on purpose at least – his minders always kept him on too tight a leash - and damn was it great to see those uppity little shits turn to red mush in his gears.
For a while, at least. Look, he’s a creative guy, but there’s only so many ways to kill a person with no opposable thumbs available for the job! Not to mention, he was sorta hoping they’d get the hint eventually. He thought if he showed his ability to function on his own and his inability to tolerate pilots, they’d kinda just- leave him to it.
But of course not – that would require those bastards in command to actually give a shit about their people. They never did while he was under their tender care either, so he shouldn’t have been surprised. Kinda stupid of him actually, but excuse him, he’d, hah, rather recently lost all his braincells. Still, it was a problem he needed to figure out.
Then the solution waltzed into his cockpit, first aid kit in hand and doing his darndest to resuscitate the latest thoroughly dead pilot, and Tex started having ideas.
Here’s one thing about Felix – he’s a real gentle, meticulous sort of guy. He’s seen it in the man’s treatment of his patients, in the way he always tried to check on the vital signs of Tex’s broken toys, even when it was super fucking obvious they’ve long since kicked the bucket. Even now, as he’s poking around in the seams of Tex’s pilot seat with a rag, he’s still displaying a level of care in it he hasn’t seen from any of his actual technicians. It’s pretty nice, being treated like an actual person for once.
And damn, it’s times like these he really misses having a human body. Having this pretty man on his knees and all up in his business like that would have been a lot better if he could properly feel it. Vortex-the-mech has sensors for pressure, temperature and structural integrity, but it doesn’t come anywhere near to what he was used to when he was alive. No sense of pain either. Boring!
But oh well; he’ll take whatever fun he can get. Aaand speaking of fun-
As Felix sticks his hand in one of the seat’s movable joints, Tex mentally reaches for the mechanism and jerks it back – easily slow enough to avoid, but more than fast enough to make the man jump.
Here’s another thing about Felix – under all his outwardly softness, the man’s got teeth.
“Fuck!” he shouts, and Vortex cackles, the mech’s internal vents clicking and hissing to convey his glee. “What is your problem?!” Holding his – completely unscathed, mind you – hand to his chest, Felix looks at the screen, awaiting some sort of answer with just the most hilarious looking scowl on his sharp little face.
Mentally kicking his feet, Tex sends his words out to display on the red glass.
JUST PLAYING, BABY
GOTTA KEEP THOSE REFLEXES SHARP!
Felix huffs, relaxing a little now. “How nice of you,” he says, snide as all fuck, reaching for the rag he dropped when trying to avoid getting his fingers pinched, “but let’s keep the fun to a minimum, please.”
Then he pauses, giving Tex’s screen a considering look. “But seriously, should I not be touching that?” he asks, concern twisting his features. “Does that hurt? Or tickle? I don’t really-“ he waves his hand in an ambiguous gesture, “-know anything about how all this works. Suppose that’s something I should look into…”
Aaand off he goes, lost in his own head. Actually worrying about him. Fuck, when’s the last time someone cared about Vortex that openly? Huh, long before he was ever called that, he’d say. Hard to remember. These days, Vortex is fifty tons of stainless steel killing machine, very much not a squishy human patient for the soft-hearted doc to be fussing over. And yet.
Damn, what a weirdo. What an odd little freak.
Vortex really fucking likes Felix.
Thank you for reading, and many thanks to my beta @jayden-writes for the help!
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cosmicalily · 1 day ago
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3:26pm with seo changbin - a @cosmicalily timestamp
author’s note: thank you all for waiting for this one! she's short, but very, very sweet :)
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“You good?” Changbin asked, looking at you worriedly from the hallway. He was sweaty from the gym, his black tank top clinging to his chest and a little out of breath. Normally, you’d absolutely inhale him in this condition, hands all over him, pressing adoring kisses on his cheeks, lips and nose. 
Yet, you remained flat on the couch, as if he wasn’t even there. 
He couldn’t help but feel his ego deflate a little at your ignorance.
“Head hurts,” you groaned, hands covering your eyes.
Ah. Changbin knew this version of you well.
“I’m going to take this from you,” he said, pulling your phone out from under your back and setting it on the table. “Have you had any water? Any food?” He reached to pull your hands from your eyes, smiling at you comfortingly.
You pouted at his questions. “No,” you huffed. 
“And this headache just magically manifested itself, not because you’ve starved and dehydrated yourself this whole morning?”
“Yes,” you replied firmly, hands reaching up to squeeze his arms. Your fingers trailed down to his hands, which you interlinked with yours. He gently rubbed soft circles into your palm, kneeling beside the sofa.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he replied, letting go of one of your hands to stroke your forehead lovingly. “Does it hurt a lot?”
“Yeah. It’s a bit better now, though.”
“Because your favourite boy in the whole world just got home?”
“Shush. Can I lie down on your chest?”
Changbin chuckled. “Sure, once you’ve had a glass of water. You can lie on me while we decide what you’re gonna eat for a very late lunch, okay?”
“Okay.”
You pulled yourself off the couch, going to the kitchen and downing a glass of water as quickly as possible, motivated by the anticipation of a full body cuddle. When you returned, Changbin laid himself down on his back, then climbed on top of him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he wrapped his around your waist, kissing your forehead softly as you nestled into his skin.
“I’m sweaty, you don’t mind?”
“I like it.”
“Freak,” Changbin laughed. 
The two of you laid on the sofa, bodies tightly pressed against each other. He felt you snuffle a little against his neck, and soon enough, your breaths rose and fell gently. 
And oh, even if you’d entirely self-inflicted this state of irritation and pain, his heart only softened more at your vulnerability when you were like this. Something about how simple love was during moments like this, how all you wanted was him, even if your biological needs were far more complex.
It was sweet. In the same conditions, he was sure he’d pick you above anything else a thousand times.
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taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @yaniluvs @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff @starsinagreenskyxx @ashtxrie @pigeonseatmayo - comment, dm or send an ask to be added
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orimuraa · 2 days ago
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ᯓ ✈︎ XO, call me - OT7
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꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆enhypen as your airport crush ⨾
۶ৎ ot7!enhypen x fem!reader ┆fluff┆airport crush au┆heerisma, jayrisma, jakerisma, rizzhoon, sunrisma, rizzwon, and rizzki┆ wc 1.5k
⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i got this prompt randomly and i thought it was really cute so i wanted to write abt it! this is a longer ot7 fic so i hope you enjoy! reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!!
꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱
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𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승
you were just on your way back from a recent trip to paris when you him—the most gorgeous man you have ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on. the way his hair fell perfectly, framing his face, and how he was dressed so casual yet he looked so good. the headphones that hung around his neck added an extra touch to his vibe, making you fall instantly for him. but as soon as he caught your gaze, you felt your cheeks start to heat up, your whole body feeling very hot all of the sudden.
he takes a second to realize you were staring at him before smirking, casually making his way over to you. before you can process the situation, he’s right in front of you writing on a piece of paper. “call me,” he whispers into your ear, slipping the paper into your pocket. as he walks away, you see that grin of his before he’s walking off to his gate. oh, you’d be such a fool to not call an angel like him.
𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성
the airport was bustling all around you and it was practically impossible to make your way over to your gate with how many people there were. but that’s when you bumped into him—a man so gorgeous, you felt unworthy to even be looking at him. “oh- i’m so sorry!” you manage to squeak out, immediately backing away and bowing to him. but he just chuckles, and god damn is it the most attractive laugh you’ve ever heard. “don’t worry! there’s so many people in this airport, it’s dangerous for a pretty lady like you to be all alone,” he winks, laughing at his cliché words. “here, let me walk you to your gate.” he smiles. and who are you to say no to such a kind gentleman.
once you arrive at your gate, you turn to thank the handsome man. “thank you, and i’m so sorry again for bumping into you,” you bow, the embarrassing memory coming back. “ahh~ don’t worry about it. you can repay me by calling me,” he winks. at first, you’re confused, but when he slides a piece of paper into your hand, you understand. and with that, he walks away with a part of your heart.
𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤
it was finally summer, meaning you’re vacation to australia was also finally here. as you were sitting by your gate, you noticed someone sit down next to you. curious, you looked over at the person and your jaw dropped when you saw him. his hair was a little ruffled but it added to his look. he had the most gorgeous face and you were sure that leonardo de vinci shaped it himself. you felt your cheeks heat up the more you stared at him—despite feeling a little creepy staring so intensely at a complete stranger. “hey, if you’re gonna stare, at least gimme your number,” he smirks, a thick accent mixed in with his words.
flustered, you quickly look back down at your lap, contemplating your whole life. “hey, i’m just teasing. but if you don’t mind, i would like to give you my number,” he smiles sweetly. “i think you’re really cute.” and oh god, your heart does a whole backflip. “y-yeah, of course!” you nervously stutter, scrambling to fish out a piece of paper. handing him your number, he thanks you, standing up and promising to call you. you’re summer can’t get any better than this.
𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈
you were sat at a small table inside of a cafe in the airport when the door jingled, indicating that someone else had come in. naturally, your eyes made their way over to the person who came in, who was now ordering at the counter. but oh gosh, when he turned around, you were absolutely star stuck. his visuals were insane and he looked so good in that black, leather jacket that you couldn't help but stare a lot little at him. but soon, his sharp gaze caught yours and you never looked away so fast. however, doing so, you failed to see the smirk on his lips as he took a sip of his coffee, still staring at you.
you don't exactly know how much time passed, but you wanted to just see if he was still there. glancing over your shoulder to where he was, you see that it is now empty, no random, handsome man in sight. sighing, you take your last sip of you drink before standing up and gathering your luggage. but before you can leave, a worker calls out to you, stopping you in your tracks. "a man told me to give this to you before you left," she explains, handing you a small slip of paper. you thank her and walk out, curiously opening the paper. couldn't help but stare, huh? well, i can't let such a pretty face go without giving you my number ;) xxx-xxx-xxxx -call me XOXO.
𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우
as you were browsing around the duty free section of the airport, you happen to pass by a gorgeous, gorgeous man. his features reminded you much of a fox's and it made his appearance so striking. his hair was jet black and pushed up and out of his face, revealing his forehead minus a couple of loose strands. he had small freckles adorned on his cheeks and nose, making all the more perfect. you must've been staring for some time because when you finally came to your senses, he was staring right at you, a warm smile on his lips. you watch as he slowly strides towards you, unable to move your feet nor think completely straight. "hi! i noticed you staring and i thought you were really pretty so i wanted to come and chat with you!" his voice is so soft and sweet that you almost miss what he says completely, focusing more on his voice than his words. "oh- i'm so sorry about that, i just thought you were so handsome and.." you flush, catching yourself before you ramble on.
"wahh~ thank you! if you didn't mind, i would maybe like to give you my number? maybe we can get to know each other," he smile never faltering. gosh, you admired his bravery. "yeah of course! here it's xxx-xxx-xxxx," you blush, in shock that you got such a handsome man's number. "then i'll see you around!" he winks, turning on his heel and walking out. "see you.."
𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원
people were rushing past you, trying to get to their gates in time but you were taking your sweet time. you made sure to get to the airport early so you weren't rushing whatsoever. but now, you were kinda regretting it as you had nothing to do for the next 2 hours while you waited for your flight. you were walking around, casually window shopping, when your eyes caught a very handsome guy. he had the cutest pair of dimples and his hair was dyed blonde and waved perfectly. he was dressed casually but you have never seen someone pull off a sweatshirt and cargo pants like this man has.
he see's you staring at him ominously, and walks over to you, a small smile on his lips the whole time. internally you start to panic because why is such a hot guy walking towards you right now when you probably looked like you just rolled out of bed. "caught ya. here's my number just in case you want it," he smirks handing you a piece of paper which you gladly accept. and within a blink of an eye, he's gone, almost as if he was all in your imagination. but the paper in your hand proves that wrong.
𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力
currently, you were sitting across from the hottest man you have ever seen and you were attempting to steal glances at him while also being nonchalant. he was dressed in a pair of loose cargo pants and a baggy white tee that defined his figure so well. his ears were adorned with silver rings and studs while his fingers had simple rings on them. he had a couple delicately placed moles on his face and features that told you he was from abroad. he was your perfect definition of "airport crush" and you weren't complaining one bit. however, when your eyes met momentarily, you suddenly felt hot and flustered as he continued to stare at you. a small smirk adorned his lips and you heard him let out a small chuckle before reaching in his bag for something.
you keep your head down, deciding that you've had enough of your fun for today. that is until a deep voice in front of you clears his throat, causing you to look up at the source. "o-oh, hi there," you blush, feeling your ears heat up again once you catch his eyes. "here, i noticed you staring and thought that you might want this," he drops a note in your lap before walking away, a satisfied smile on his lips. you're cute, give me a call when you can :) xxx-xxx-xxxx p.s. you should work on your staring, people will find it impolite.
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𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets
⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy
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twinkletfout · 2 days ago
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Gojo is an absolute pervert! Why, so?
Because sneaking into your room to find your used underwear and purposefully take it cause he is unable to put down the thought that, that's where your pussy has been..♡
Of course you thought that it was strange that one of your panties has gone missing when you came back but you didn't give it much thought anyway until you found none other than your boyfriend, Gojo, palming himself to his very visible bulge on his boxers, with his pants slightly zipped down. You could even pinpoint the wet spot forming on it.
And there is it, your panties, so close to his face, his eyebrows scrunched as he inhaled your scent, you swore you could see him twitching in his boxers. "Satoru!" You yelled, causing him to quickly turn around as he hid your panties behind him like you did not just see that. "H—Hey, wassup?" Oh he was embarrassed, his face flushed as you just stared him down. His eyes never, once looked into yours.
"seriously?" You asked as you just took a step closer to him, enough to fill that gap between the two of you. Enough to feel that heat radiating off of him. "w..what?" He said slightly brushing the back of his neck, still avoiding your glare. "You are really bad at hiding something, satoru. You think I can't see that you have your pants down?" You pointed out the obvious.
He sighed really loudly, putting both of his hands up. "Finee, you caught me, so, what?" He asked, narrowing his eyes down at you. A smirk growing on his face, he still had your panties in his hands. You tried to get it back, only for him to bring it even higher up over his head, lowering it to see you try to get it again, you jumped and clawed on his shoulders and you just couldn't get it back. "Stop playing, and give it back, toru!" But he didn't seem to listen at all.
"should I?" He asked, before turning you against the wall with your ass against his erection. "You smell so fucking good, baby, it got me like this, see?" He grinded himself on to your ass, pulling the waist of his boxers down. "Now, Let me play with the real thing."
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