#wiping the sweat off your partner's brow | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blockedbykei · 5 months ago

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𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐏 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐎𝐖

🏐— tsukishima kei x f!reader

— synopsis: he hates your intelligence in classrooms and you hate his cunnigness at the court. both go at great lengths to defeat each other, but how is it that both of you were the only ones that can help each other be better?

— warnings: swearing, a bit suggestive, enemies to lovers (although kind of enemies)

You slam your paper on his desk.

Tsukishima barely flinches. He removes his headphones and hangs them on his neck, unbothered by your looming presence as he stares blankly at your paper. 96

The corners of his lips tug down, seemingly unimpressed. "Eh."

"Eh? Aw, is little Tsukishima disappointed at himself?"

He looks up at you, stares deeply into your eyes. And for a moment you'd think his domineering gaze would soften as he was overawed by you. But then he smiles, that annoying little shitty, narcissistic smile.

"Actually, not at all (l/n)," his smile is bright, almost genuine, but his sarcasm is radiating. "I got a 98. Not bad, though!"

You swear steam was coming off your body.

"96 at modern Japanese." He says. "Understandable."

"Understandable?!"

"Don't beat yourself up, (l/n). Not everyone's perfect," he leans back. "Not even me. I mean, I'm just being humble. But yeah, not everyone."

"I hate you," you take your paper off his desk.

"Flattered. Really, really flattered. Thank you for hating me, actually. I feel so honored to be hated." He puts his headphones back on and places his elbows on his desk, his chin resting on his joint fists. Tsukishima smiles at you again.

God, his smile is infuriating.

Tsukishima was someone you'd go to great lengths to defeat. He never bothered for your existence when first year began. He didn't even know your name; Didn't even look at your direction. He'd only known it a month later when you were paired to be partners and he decided to be such a condescending brat when he pointed out your handwriting.

At first you ignored it, took it by heart and started organizing your writings on your notes. Then he decided to put all his self-hatred on you and started to discreetly judge you.

Maybe he wasn't even judging you. Maybe he was just staring at your paper, scoffed to himself, shook his head and laughed because you got a better score than him and he was berating himself. But no, he laughed because he thought you were a tryhard and he was a prodigy.

Obviously none of those were confirmed. But he's a man and a man hates it when a woman's happy.

When he smirks you have the urge to rip his lips to pieces.

You walk away from him and sit on your desk, which was actually beside him.

His scent follows your flaring nostrils as you carefully shove your paper between the notebooks in your bag. Tsukishima looks out the window, hiding his smirk, his foot tapping lightly but never making sound. So you put your own headphones over your ears, in hopes to drown out his deafening aura.

🏐 —

"Shit!"

Tsukishima's knees bends the wrong way and almost falls onto his back as he lands on the ground. The ball echoes across the court as it ricochets off the floor. You laugh loudly, and everyone looks at you.

"You're too advanced for the block, idiot!" You say loudly. Yamaguchi giggles.

He rolls his eyes at you as he chases for the ball. Kageyama sits beside you.

"You know he plays horribly when you're here."

"Oh?" You raise a brow. "Is he not used to a girl looking at her?"

Kageyama scratches his nose. "Probably 'cause he hates you."

You laugh lightly. "Kinda nice that I'm here. I get to see him fuck up."

Kageyama snorts. "He feels pressured 'cuz you're here."

"Oh? He said that?"

"No. But I can hear him think."

You laugh and wipe your sweat off. "I'd play with you guys, but his remarks could piss me off and I might, uh, shove that ball up his ass."

When Kageyama laughs again, quite loudly, Tsukishima's head snaps at the bench where you're sitting. Heat rises to his head, his stance losing its usual strength, his arms weakening as he watches you—

Laughing, at some joke you said or Tobio said. Laughing heartily like someone just made the best joke in the world. The way your lips almost reach the wrinkles beneath your eyes. Oh, that's so funny Tobio. You're so funny you should quit volleyball and be a stand up comedian!

He knows you're talking shit about him, too. Idiot. Brat. Showoff.

He had the right to show off. He was better than you.

He was the better thinker; the better scorer.

Tsukishima is better than you.

I'm better than you—

The ball hits the side of his face, his glasses flailing to the side.

The first thing that reaches his ears—your sickening laugh. That monstrous, sadistic guffaw. Tanaka yells from the other side of the court and dives beneath the net to take a look at his face. Nishinoya hovers, hands on his knees, laughing.

"Pay attention, dumbass!" You cuff your hands over your mouth. "Stop daydreaming! It's embarrassing."

He bends to pick his glasses up. Alive, no cracks, frame not broken. He puts it on the bridge of his nose so that he could see your face clearly.

Hideously alluring.

"Do you think of scheming as daydreaming, (l/n)?" his voice, full of disdain, though hidden through feigned sweetness. "Like a child as always. Go back to middle school?"

"Do better at volleyball?"

"I ought to kick the both of you out this court," Daichi says loudly. "Oh wait I can't speak to (l/n) like that. S-sorry!"

Tsukishima sneers, his lips frowning. He approaches the rolling ball, watching as it hits the wall and propells back towards his awaiting feet. When he picks it up, he steals another glance at you talking to Kageyama.

The King and the Brat. The most annoying combination in the entirety of Karasuno campus.

Somehow, seeing you next to Kageyama and being given the nickname as if the two of you were a pair sends a tight rope around his chest that causes it to ache a little. Tsukishima huffs it out, an unsettling in his bones.

Please don't look at me.

The ball flies into the air, and his palm raises just in time to make contact with the ball.

He sees you watch from the corner of his eye, a blurried silhouette, but your figure was familiar enough for him to recognize you. His heart beats a little louder.

🏐 —

No.

Shit. Fuck. No

God damnit. 74.

Tsukishima stares at his paper in horror. In his entire life, he has always gotten two digits on his scores. However, they had always been ninety onwards. Never in the line of sevens. He doesn't know if his horror is displayed across his face. He prays it doesn't—he would die if you saw his expression.

He leans sideways to the right, his eye darting towards the side to peak at your paper.

98.

The english language was something that was easy to learn but never easy in exams. This—despite boasting that english was the easiest subject—was his weakness.

You're too preoccupied to notice his existence. Good.

He turns around to look at the green haired boy.

"Yamaguchi." He whisper-yelled. "Tadashi."

Yamaguchi looks up. "Yes?"

This was it. Years of built up pride, intelligence, boosted ego— down the drain. As soon as he'd ask him the question, it would forever alter the image of himself towards his friend. Tsukishima was no longer the brainy four-eyes of the Karasuno Volleyball Club.

He would now be Tsukishima, the idiot four-eyes.

Maybe I'm overreacting.

He stands up and sits beside the empty chair next to Yamaguchi.

"How- What's your score?"

Yamaguchi looks puzzled as he glances at his paper. "E-eighty eight."

God, this is depressing.

"Um," Tsukishima scratches the back of his neck. "Could you help me with English?"

There it is. His face says it all.

"Don't you even—"

"You, Tsukishima Kei, asking for my help?" He laughs incredulously. "Are you sure? What's your score?"

"Don't want to talk about it."

"Aw, c'mon Tsukki." He pouts playfully like comforting a weeping baby. "I'm sure it's not that bad."

Tsukishima tells him in a low voice. He never thought he could hate Yamaguchi's laugh. But he did, right after he laughed at his score. It wasn't even a failing grade.

"You know who should tutor you though?" He puts his paper in his bag. "(l/n). She's good, y'know. I heard her speak english once. I thought she was from, uh, some foreign country or something."

"She's not even that good." Tsukishima takes off his glasses and wipes it with the corner of his uniform. "She's good with memory but she forgets it right after the quiz like a ditz."

Yamaguchi snorts. "She's the one who got the best score out of all of us."

"Yeah, no thanks. I'd never let her teach me."

"I think you're forgetting I'm right here in front of you." You turn around, placing your elbow and forearm on the back of your chair and look at Tsukishima. "I can teach you."

Tsukishima scoffs. "No thanks. I'd rather repeat freshman year."

"Are you sure?" you pout, placing your chin on the back of your hand. "I can teach you, little Tsukishima."

"I'm not little."

"Yeah but your brain is."

"Yamaguchi, help me out here."

He can't ask for your help. Never ever. Never will he ever ask for your help. Tsukishima can study this himself. He's always studied by himself. He's never needed anyone, and certainly not you. He was independent, cunning as everyone says. Tsukishima does not need tutors.

Up until now.

"Please help Tsukishima study," Yamaguchi looks at you. "He's too prideful to ask but he really needs your help."

Tsukishima stammers. "T-that's not what I meant!"

"Aw, is this true?" You're taunting him. He feels like a child.

"I can study by myself. Fuck off."

You smile at him. In a way that he can't read. It was soft, almost kind, like you wanted to help him wholeheartedly and wanted his english to improve. Then he looked into your eyes and all the kindness in your smile had been washed away by this pity in your eyes that you enjoyed. Tsukishima huffs.

"No need to be shy about asking for help, little Tsukki," you coo. "We'll study in the locker room while everyone else plays. You're skipping practice today."

Tsukishima zips his bag and stands up. He towers over you, covering the sun that blinds you through the glass window. He looks down at your eyes—teasing, condescending eyes. His lips are turned to a frown, which makes you smile even more.

"I'm not skipping practice."

"Too bad. You are. You know, if you let me help you, you'd stop having that distraught face everytime you get your english paper." You take a step closer, neck bent backwards to look up at him. "Yeah, I saw your face."

Yamaguchi nudges his arm. "C'mon, Kei. Ask for her help. You know you need it. Don't be so prideful."

Tsukishima growls. He doesn't say anything yet, all the confidence in him washed away by a score that wasn't even a failing grade. His palm rubs the space between his eyebrows and mumbles:

"Help me."

You lean in, ear towards him. "Couldn't hear that. Sorry?"

"Help me study."

"Are you commanding me or asking?"

"Please help me study."

"Don't mumble, Tsukishima."

"Damn it!" He groans. "Please help me, dearest (l/n)." His voice drips in sarcasm, peering at you through his scratched lenses. "Help me get a better grade at english. Help me stop myself from strangling you! Idiot!"

You lean back, the bottom of your spine resting on your table as your left hand props you up. Tsukishima is almost seething, his eyes widened a little as his anger seethes through his nostrils. You hum, pretend to think, then slap his right cheek twice lightly.

"How kind of you to ask, little Tsukki." You wrinkle your nose at him, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "See you at the locker room."

When you leave, his head turns to Yamaguchi who smiles innocently. Tsukishima almost strangles him instead.

🏐—

The boys are thirty minutes late to practice. Including Daichi.

"It's the sequence of the words, Tsukishima," you point your pen at his test paper. "The spelling's no problem. You're good at it. It's just with how you've formed them together."

They all sit behind the two of you, watching silently. Tsukishima is red from embarrassment as he ignores them.

"What's so wrong about this sequence? It sounds correct."

"Just because it sounds correct doesn't mean that it is correct."

Hinata snorts. Tsukishima's head snaps at it. "Don't snort, dumbass. Last time I checked you got a twenty at your exam."

"You hit a nerve there, Shoyo," Kageyama giggles.

You sigh and slap your hands at your thighs. "Sawamura-san, why are you guys even here?"

He stammers, his back straightening as he fixes his bag on his left shoulder. "Jus–Just wanted to make sure you two will be fine. Let's go guys."

When they leave, Tsukishima relaxes in relief. He stares intensely at his notebook, figuring out the correct answer. You try not to laugh at him, but the sight was entertaining; seeing him suffer brought your heart at ease.

"Figured it out, moron?" You bring your own notebook out, flipping it to the last page you'd written on. "It's really not that hard."

"Shut up, (l/n.)" he says. You make a small sound, similar to "okay!" As you begin to write down on a blank page.

And you're like that for a few hours.

Tsukishima answers the questions you've written for him, and when he asks you for help, you cordially help him without telling him the answers. Then you both go back to formidable silence, doing your own perspective works.

He almost enjoys this newfound environment created with you. Somehow, his body is more tranquil, but at the same time his mind is racing, because you're here. Tutoring him. Tsukishima has always believed that he was one step ahead of you, making sure you were unable to catch up with him. But now he's slipped from that step and you've caught up and you're deriding him.

Nonetheless, you're his only hope right now.

He looks at you.

Your hair is tucked behind your ears and your teeth are currently creating dents at the eraser of your pencil. You're concentrating, seeming like you've forgotten that he's sitting in front of you. And Tsukishima's eyes are extremely blurred, but when he looks at you through the gap between his glasses and forehead, your face was somehow clearer.

"Are you a dog?" he raises a brow. "Don't chew on your pencil."

You huff like you're being scold and place your pencil down. But the chewing didn't last a second as your bottom lip is now tucked between your teeth. Tsukishima rolls his eyes.

"Here," he flips his paper and shows it to you. "Did I do it correctly?"

You take the paper from him and read it. He hopes you're at least slightly impressed, that you're not arbitrating his answers nor think they're half-assed. When your red pen moves into a slant, the corner of his lip twitches upwards. But when you circle the number, he has this urge to shove that pen into your eye.

"Hm, not bad. But not enough." you flip the paper.

70.

Four points less.

"Damn it." You can tell he's disappointed at himself. "You suck at teaching."

"Excuse me?!" Your eyebrows furrow. "Hey, I've spent the past four hours teaching you here, stickhead. The sun's almost down!"

"Do you have to go home already?" He asks. You shrug. "Then we can stay here until they're done with practice."

"Tsukishima, I have freshly cooked doburi waiting for me at home. Do you know what donburi is? Do you know what it tastes like while it's still hot? Fucking donburi, Tsukishima." You whine. "Would you like to study at my place instead?"

You seem to not have processed what you've offered, but Tsukishima has. He's surprised at your comment, watching you look so desperate to get home and eat that "fucking donburi." He waits for a moment until you realize and you do, but it seemed like you didn't care when you lean back and raise a brow.

"Well?"

"Sure."

His quick, almost unhesitant compliance surprises you. Tsukishima adjusts his glasses and brings his headphones out as you both head out the door. You lock it behind you, with Tsukishima already walking ahead.

You pass by the gym. "Sawamura, everyone, we're heading out!"

Tsukishima appears beside you. "We're going."

"To where?" Yamaguchi approaches you both. "Are you going to eat out? Ooh, can you bring food back here?"

"We're going to her place to study." He answers. "We can't come back."

The others seem to hear what he said, because Hinata yells: "What kind of studying are you going to do, Stingyshima?"

"Something that your tiny shit-for-brains can't comprehend." He retorts. "Focus on your receives, squirt!"

You wave to everyone and catch a glimpse of Yamaguchi's smile. You roll your eyes at him and poke your tongue out.

🏐 —

The way home was quieter than you expected.

Mainly because Tsukishima had his headphones on and all you hear was your un synchronous footsteps on the stoned sidewalk. You take small looks at your peripherals to see what he's doing. And, well, he's walking... like every other normal person.

But you're walking side by side and there's this space between you that's so close but also so far away. You feel his heat touching the fabric of your shirt, his hand twitching and just barely grazing yours. Then he speaks:

"You walk like a penguin," he says. "Why are you like that?"

"Why are you so annoying?" you roll your eyes. "I don't point out how you walk."

"That's because there's nothing wrong with my walk," he puts his headphones down, hangs them around his neck. "What? Got a stick up your ass or something?"

"I'll stab you with that stick."

"Gross."

You turn a corner and he follows suit like it was normal for him to follow you around. When you stop in front of your gate and unlock it, he bore no unhestiance as he removed his shoes and entered your home.

There was no one else around. And as soon as Tsukishima entered, you disappeared in his vision. Although, he hears you yell from afar: "Set your bag wherever. Stay in the living room though!"

He assumes you're either changing your clothes, getting a bowl of donburi, or both. He obeys, sets his bag on the floor and sits cross legged on the carpet of your living room, taking his notes out. He sees the sun inching away behind the roofs of the houses near by, waiting for you patiently.

And then his eyes roam to picture frames.

Never would he think that a picture of you smiling would be so endearing. That smile of yours, painting you an angelic aura, like people would never expect that you'd be the devil's descendant. Nonetheless, you were still beautiful.

The picture was you in a ponytail, face doused in sweat; the background, although blurry and dark, looked familiar. But Tsukishima was more focused on your gleaming smile, the way your eyes are almost closed and your lips were pale and your teeth were shiny.

"Hey, douchebag," you sit beside him despite the free space on the opposite of the coffee table, setting down two bowls of donburi. And yes, you had changed your clothes into something comfier. "Let's eat and study."

He never expected that you'd get him a bowl, thought that he'd have to ask or drop hints of him wanting donburi. He takes it though, and it is freshly cooked. He now understood your eagerness to go home.

An hour passes by.

The bowls are empty and set aside. Tsukishima's notes are scattered, hair disheveled from him constantly running his fingers through them. That string of hatred between you has been put aside as you both seem to tolerate one another through this session.

"Tsukishima," you say, almost sternly, placing two cartons of strawberry milk on the table. "It's easy to determine an adverb in Japanese. It's no different in identifying it in English."

"I know that, dumbass. What are you, a consciousness?" He takes his box, taking the plastic off the straw and shoving it on the circular foil. "Gimme yours."

He takes your carton and shakes it before doing the same and handing it to you. You blush vehemently, murmuring your gratitude and wrapping your lips around the paper straw.

Tsukishima's eyes wander out of boredom, tracing every corner and every ridge of your home. Until his eyes land on the sliding door to your backyard and catch a glimpse of that familiar blue and yellow ball.

"You play volleyball?" he queries, both his eyebrows raising.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Back in middle school."

"Bet you were shit at it."

"I was a middle blocker."

Tsukishima's back straightens, staring at you in hidden surprise. "At that height?"

"I'm not that short! Asshole," you throw your pen at him. He catches it with ease, setting it beside his notebook.

"Why aren't you in the women's volleyball club, then?" his brow raises. "Too short? They didn't take you? Failed the tryouts?"

You look down at your fingers, covered in peeled up skin and charred fingernails. You feel embarrassed, avoiding his eager stare. You sense his want to know your reason, radiating off his eyes.

"Not saying," you push yourself up, now standing in front of him. Tsukishima's eyes follow you, trailing uo from your thighs up to your neck, his irises darkening until he meets your gaze. "Get up. Time to go home."

"Let's play."

You stammer. "W-what? It's late."

"And I want to see you play." Tsukishima stands, hovering over you. "It's only nine in the evening."

You purse your lips, arms going limp on either side of your tired body. Though despite being worn out, you walk towards the door and slide it open, being greeted by Miyagi's brumal air that raises the hairs on your body. Tsukishima tugs on the sleeves of his sweater, covering half of his fingers, before following you out.

Barefoot in the evening, with the moon casting a pearlescent glow on your enervated bodies, the thump of the leather ball is in sync with your beating heart; and at each thump, it seems to wake Tsukishima up more.

"Tell me why you're not in the women's volleyball club," he sets it towards your direction.

"No." Your wrists join, your right fingers placing themselves on top of your left fingers, both thumbs settled side by side as your wrist ricochet the ball towards him. "It's none of your business."

Tsukishima catches it with ease. "You're lame."

You scoff, returning the ball. "I am not."

The blue and yellow ball floats into the evening air, the bright colors darkened by the stygian sky, only luminated by the moon and the lights outside your backyard. Tsukishima sets it to you again. "Listen, I don't really care about whatever your reason is. I just want to know."

You huff. There's no harm in telling your enemy a secret of yours, right? It's not like he was popular enough to go on and tell people. And like he said, he didn't care.

The ball comes in contact with your wrists. "I got injured. Well, not seriously injured. I can still play but I'm not as good as I used to be." Tsukishima catches the ball and rests it on his hip, listening to you explain. "I actually got a surgery at my calf."

You lift your pajamas just below your knee, showing the healed scar at the back of your calf. "The bone got dislocated 'cause one of my teammates smashed onto my leg when she was trying to save the ball. She got injured too, actually."

"Obviously," he retorts, now staring at your calf. Something about Tsukishima staring at your scar seemed too intimate as it should be, staring at your bare skin. His blonde hair drapes over his forehead, glasses glinting in the moonlight. "So where do you struggle?"

"Blocking. I can't jump properly." You scratch the back of your neck. "I can set though. Just, it's not in my heart."

"It's just a club," he says. "Play whatever position you want." Tsukishima sets the ball to you again.

"Just a club, huh?" You smirk. "Why'd you fail your test?"

"Because I was thinking too much of what I was gonna do when I'm at court again."

"And it's just a club."

"What's it to you?" He snaps. "At least I'm in the Volleyball club. Have I taken your dream?"

"You're a child."

"Yeah yeah. Join the club or whatever. Don't care if you don't or you want to."

You set it back to him again. "I want to."

Tsukishima senses your melancholy longing for the sport, sees your disheartened look as you think about all the chances you've lost. His heart twinges just the slightest, holding the ball between his slender hands. He almost pities you.

"Tell you what," he sets it to you. "If I pass the retest tomorrow, I'll help you with your blocking. If not," he shrugs, catching your return, "good luck with your life."

"You sound like this is a once in a lifetime opportunity." You roll your eyes.

Tsukishima hopes he passes the retest tomorrow.

Mainly because it was import to him to ace it. Partly because he wanted to see you on court.

🏐 —

100.

You read Tsukishima's answers. In the fluorescent lights, his neat handwriting presents to you all the knowledge he's obtained from your chaotic teachings. He scoffs proudly, resting his lower back on the edge of his table.

"Not bad, nerd." You hand his paper to him. "And you beat me by two points."

"That's because you're an idiot," he sits down on his chair, though still facing you. "See you at the gym later."

Your brows furrow. "The gym's closed. Coach Ukai said today's rest day."

"But I'm not Coach Ukai," he fixes his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "It's just for today. And only today."

"Fine," you agree. You act like you're forced to say yes, but deep inside the vessels of your heart and every part of your brain, they throb with excitement.

So you meet Tsukishima outside the gym after class in a white shirt and gym shorts. He meets you there, clad in the same outfit, heat radiating off his body that warms your always cold flesh. For a moment he admires observes you, your attire unfamiliar but nevertheless appealing hideous.

When you enter, the court seemed bigger without the boys rousing around the court. It was quieter, no shoes squeaking, no balls slammed, no eager yelling. You set your bag down on the floor and see your untied shoe laces.

"Fuck," you mutter.

But before you could bend down, Tsukishima has already knelt in front of you.

His knee rests on the tip of your shoe, fingers ribboning the laces of your rubber shoes. Your eyes widen, body stiffening, and it felt like forever as he tied it (it was actually only 10 seconds).

"You're a dumbass for leaving your shoelaces untied." He makes no comment as to why he's decided to tie your laces, but you swear you see his ears turn a twinge of pink.

Tsukishima takes a ball and goes to the other side of the court. When you stand opposite from him, he rolls the ball to your direction.

"How long has it been since you've played?" he asks, loudly, voice echoing across the empty gymnasium.

"Uh, a year and a half." The ball bounces between your palm and the squeaky floor. "I'm a little rusty."

"You are rusty. Your receives were shit last night."

You growl at his tease.

"We're not gonna start with the blockings. We have to start from the beginning." Tsukishima positions himself, knees bent and apart, his hands on his knees. "Serve it."

So you do. You toss the ball into the air, your hand striking as it meets the ball, and it flies across the net. It goes outside.

"Idiot." Tsukishima laughs. "First, don't try to aim it to me. You don't want your opponents to save it. You have to aim it at an open spot inside the line. Second, don't serve too hard it goes outside."

"Okay!" You yell. And you serve again.

The ball grazes the net, but the momentum deems the ball to be inside the line. Tsukishima catches it and receives it back to your side.

Shit.

You race after the ball, joined wrists hitting it back to him. He dives, the back of his hand coming contact with the ball and it goes back to your court.

And it's high in the air, so you take the chance to bend your knees and jump, spiking it to his court.

Tsukishima blocks it.

He laughs. "You're horrible at this."

"I don't exactly have a libero to save it, don't I?" You retort.

Tsukishima smiles a little, laughing at your loss point. "Give me the ball." You roll it to his side. "I want you to try and block me."

"The net is higher than it is for girls, you know." You approach the net. "I'll have a hard time."

"The higher you jump, the better you can block the ball. And you'll even have an advantage against your enemies since you're practicing with a higher net, (y/n)." He dribbles the ball.

Tsukishima called you by your first name.

Not your surname, not some insulting nickname. Your first name.

Your knees weaken at the sound of his voice dropping the phonemes of your name.

But when he flings the ball upwards, you feel your body go rigid. And just before his incoming ball passes through the net, you jump, fingers stopping the ball.

But the ball doesn't go to his side, instead it falls down below the net, at your side. You land clumsily on your feet, ankle bending but not painfully.

"See, you got it. You just have to jump higher."

"Shut up, you stilt walking clown." Your leg throbs, shaking. "Hit it again."

"See this?" Tsukishima brings his hands in the air, his arms and hands bent inward. "You block like this. Don't straighten your arms. It sets the ball upwards and they get the point since you're last touch. Block me again."

You kick the ball to his direction. Tsukishima springs the ball into the air once more, his arm flinging back when he jumps and strikes the ball towards you.

Filled with adrenaline, you jump as high as you could, your chest as high as the edge of the net, arms and hands bent inward as you block the ball and ricochet it towards him.

He doesn't do anything and watches the ball roll outside the court. Tsukishima's eyes shoot up and look at you, the corner of his lips bent downwards in amusement.

"Not bad. Try harder though."

You snarl at him.

Hours pass and you're both drenched in sweat. His shirt sticks to his chest, his hair damp across his forehead. He's wiping his face with a towel and his glasses rest on top of his hair. You drink from your water bottle.

The sweat drips down the tip of his nose, golden eyes drowsy yet vigorous with adrenaline. His lips are parted to pant out tired breaths, his adam's apple bobbing, the veins of his arms protruding. And he's sitting at the same bench as yours.

You swallow the liquid in your mouth.

"One day of practice isn't enough to get me into the club, Tsukishima." you say, wiping your mouth. "Thanks for teaching me though."

Tsukishima sets his towel down. "It's whatever. Your receives are go-fine, anyway. And you're really not that tall enough to block. You're hopeless."

"I wish Hinata was here to say that so he could yell at you."

Hinata. Tsukishima feels something uncomfortable rise to his chest when you mention his name.

And it seems as though you have summoned that tiny tangerine devil.

"Oh, Kageyama! The lights are open, someone must be here," your head turns and see that Hinata's hair pokes out the door before his head fully goes in. His eyes roam around until they find you. "Oh! (y/l/n)-san!"

"Hinata," you smile kindly. "Why are you guys still here? There's no training today."

"Tanaka-san said we can train for as much as we want as long as we don't tell Sawamura." he hops inside, Kageyama following suit behind him, unzipping his jacket. "What are you doing here, Stingyshima?"

"None of your business." He replies, irritation dripping off his sharp tongue from the nickname. "What do you think we were doing? Playing kendama?"

"I wouldn't mind playing kendama," Hinata looks at Kageyama, who shrugs. "Can we join?"

"Hopeless child," Tsukishima rubs his face with his towel again. "It's getting late. We should go home."

His usage of plural rather than sigular denotes that his usual selfishness has been decreased due to your unwavering presence, having been spent multiple hours with you for the past two days than usual. Tsukishima has easily adapted to include you in whatever he was going to do next.

We should go home.

"Aw, well, can you leave us the keys?" Hinata asks you. Tsukishima shoves the keys in the small boy's hand. "Thank you, Stingyshima!"

Tsukishima slings his bag over his shoulder, approaching the exit. He looks at Kageyama. "Fix your sets, your Majesty. You wouldn't want to clip the wings of Karasuno now, would you?"

You can see the smirk formed in his face. Kageyama is fuming, his fists clenching. "You– I...– You piece of shi– Hnmgh– You dumbass! Hinata!"

"Why me?!"

Tsukishima walks away without waiting for you, although you follow suit behind him. And when you reach the school gates, he turns right rather than left—and his way home begins with him turning left.

Yours was to the right.

"You gonna walk me home?" You joke, finally catching up behind him. Your weary legs has made you walk slower, though enough to now keep up with Tsukishima's tired pace.

"Yes."

Tsukishima doesn't spare a glance at you. But you look at him in shock. Then you shoot him an upsidedown smile, humming.

"No longer Stingyshima, I see."

"I ought to leave you here and get kidnapped." He states bluntly, finally looking down at you through his peripherals.

"Why are you walking me home then?"

"Because I want to take a long walk."

"Yeah sure, whatever." Your hands meet behind you, hitting the top of your bottom at every step you take. "You wanted to take a long walk. Could've gone to the park, could've roamed around your street. But yeah, you're walking me home so you could have a long walk back to your home."

Tsukishima tuts, his arms crossing. "Are you implying something, (y/n)?"

Your first name. Again.

"Oh, I'm not implying anything!" Your eyebrows raise, looking fully at him. And Tsukishima turns his head and looks at you as he walks. "I'm just stating what I've observed, Tsukki."

"Don't call me that."

"Okay!" You turn to your gate. When you reach inside the small box and pull on the lever of your door, you sense that Tsukishima is still standing behind you wth his hands in his pockets, watching you intently. So you turn around when the gate unlocks. "Yes? Do you need to use my bathroom first? Want a carton of milk or something?"

"No." He says. "Get in already."

You rest your back at your gate. "Tell me the real reason why you walked me home."

"No."

"So you lied to me earlier?"

"N-no."

"So what is it?"

Tsukishima sighs. Then he takes a few steps, approaching you and bends down so that his face would be equal to yours.

His scent is sweet, like freshly picked strawberries. And his lips, though thin, was soft and pink. And the tip of his nose grazes just above yours. And his golden eyes narrow to gaze at every speck of your irises. The corner of his lip turns upwards.

"That shut you up." He says. You blush, and he seems to taunt you. "Still want to play volleyball?"

His breath is hot fanning over your cold face. You can't help but nod. You swallow thickly from the close proximity that Tsukishima has created.

"Okay. Well, I still need help with english. And you obviously still need help with volleyball. So you reap what you sow. We'll help each other."

Tsukishima says those words like they're a command. Like they're being read from sacred scriptures. An event waiting to be happened for a prophecy to be fulfilled. Tsukishima's tone was flat but his voice deemed importance.

"Okay," was all you managed to let out through a breath. "See you tomorrow?"

Tsukishima stands up, eyes you up and down. Then looks into your eyes again and you swear that his gaze softens.

"See you tomorrow."

🏐—

A few weeks pass by.

At mornings, Tsukishima has come to pick you up and you studied on the way to Karasuno. You spend your lunches together, along with Yamaguchi, as well as Hinata and Kageyama who—while also bickering like children—listen to whatever you teach Tsukishima.

After classes, you find yourself joining the boys at the volleyball club, with Tsukishima helping you practice your blocks and receives. Though you notice that the boys take their strengths down a notch, which you are somewhat grateful for — because they truly are strong, and you're not ready to catch up to their level yet.

And at nights, Tsukishima walks you home with a milk carton in hand and sharp remarks in his mouth.

There's still a thick smoke of hatred that covers the both of you, that string of annoyance wrapped around your fingers. Yet as days pass by, that smoke has been thinning at every civil interaction. Albeit that annoyance still lingered.

And until today, that smoke has turned into this very light fog, until you begin to question why you hated Tsukishima in the first place.

Your phone vibrates.

tsukishima. Where are you? 8:32am

you. almost there. forgot my bag at home. 8:33am

tsukishima. Hurry up. It's cold outside. 8:33am

you. will do. sorry :| Read at 8:34am

Tsukishima is standing outside the gates of Karasuno, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed as you quickened the pace of your walk.

"You're so slow it's annoying," his eyebrows furrow. "Why'd you forget your bag? Idiot."

"You pressure me, douchebag." You flick the bridge of his glasses. He yelps. "Hurry. I want to study already. We have a quiz at 9."

When you and Tsukishima sit on your respective seats, you quiz each other with lazily scribbled flash cards. He seems to have absorbed the passed on knowledge and had answered the questions with ease.

So after the quiz, he seemed content; confident.

"How well did you think you did, beanpole?" You zip your bag.

"Well enough to beat your ass," he replies. Then, he does something new.

He smiles at you.

It wasn't a bright smile. Not energetic, but radiates some kind of light happiness. Seemed like a smile of gratitude.

You feel your cheeks flare.

After classes, you meet outside the gym as always, both of you changed into training clothes. Then you spend hours and hours jumping and tiring your wrists out, squeaking your shoes off the floor.

By the time the sun has set, Tsukishima was waiting for you again.

"Let's study."

Your eyes widen and you look startled. Tsukishima looks bored. "I'm pretty sure you got yourself covered for the rest of the year, Tsukishima."

"And I don't think you can train by yourself in volleyball," he adjusts his bag. "Let's just study. Reap what you sow."

"You keep saying that."

He ignores you. "Let's study at my place."

"E-excuse me?"

Tsukishima begins to walk to his direction. And despite your reaction, you follow him either way. "Let's study at my place for a change. I'm sick of your living room."

He says it like he's spent years hanging out in your living room. Your feet runs on the cobblestone to catch up with him. "But- What else are we gonna study?"

"Whatever I want."

His house wasn't actually that far from the campus. When you've turned a corner, he opens the gate and lets you in. When you enter his home, it's warm and clean, so you set your shoes aside and walk in your socks.

No one's home.

Tsukishima could've led you to their living room. Instead, he goes directly to his bedroom. And when you don't move, he looks at you through the door with a raised brow, as if to say "well? why aren't you getting in?"

So you do.

You sit on the edge of his bed, watching him unzip his jacket and set it aside. You decide to stop acting so wary and let you back fall to his bed, taking your phone out.

"So when are your tryouts?"

You look at him, placing your phone on your chest. "Next week. Michimiya was nice enough to let me try this late into the school year."

"I'll be there." He sits down on the other side of his bed.

"Oh," you're stunned. "Okay. Um, what do you want to study?"

You pull yourself up until your whole body is on his bed, sitting up and resting your back at his headboard. Tsukishima brings his legs to the bed, resting them beside your socked feet.

"Chemistry." This is new. "Can you run me through it?"

And you do. You take your notebook our and run him by all the lessons discussed for the past week. Tsukishima's pretends to listen but he actually doesn't.

Instead he's staring at your scar at your leg, up and down your very exposed thigh, but mostly at your scar.

You notice this immediately. "Tsukishima, why are you staring at my scar?"

"It's Kei," he looks at you, his hand resting just beside your calf, index finger twitching to trace the ridges of your scar. "Call me Kei."

Kei.

"Okay, Kei."

Your voice, filled with dulcets, his name sounding mellifluous as it rolls of your tongue. Tsukishima's heart beats wildly, and has decided to come with the terms that he hates you— because he likes you.

"Your scar looks... cool..." his index finger finally sets on the soft skin of your healed wound. You shiver at his featherlight touch.

And he's so near you now. As near as that time he walked you home and bent down to your height. And gods, he was so handsome. Even with his scratched glasses. Your mouth gapes the slightest, shaking hands reaching to remove the spectacles off his nose.

Tsukishima lets you. You see sweetness of his stare, all that hatred you used to see seemed to have melted and dripped from his sweat. This kind of Tsukishima is new– foreign, yet seemed right. Seemed destined to happen.

"Kei," you murmur. "What are you doing?"

"Is your skull too thick to process your environment?" his laugh leaves him in a huff, smirking.

"You're so eager for me to teach you something you're already good at so you could keep training me," your brows meet in the middle the slightest, a crease on your forehead that Tsukishima wants to wipe away. "Why?"

"Because you're good, (y/n)." He declares. "Your injury isn't stopping you to perform your best. You're just scared."

"Then why not just train me without me having to tutor you?"

"Because I don't want to lose these kind of moments." he whispers. "Jesus, (y/n), I like you. It's why I brought you here, for fuck's sake."

His lips are warm compared to his cold hands.

You gasp, though eyes fluttering shut, and your eyelashes tickle his soft cheeks. Your fingers wrap around his wrist as he holds your delicate face in the palm of his hands, careful not to hurt you as his lips remain planted on yours.

When Tsukishima pulls away, he's not far from you. His lips hover over yours, breathing your air, his forehead resting just slightly on yours. Your fingers come up to tangle themselves on his silky hair.

"Lose moments like what, make out with me?" you giggle. "If you wanted to make out, Kei, just tell me."

"You never shut up, do you?"

His lips meet yours again in an open mouthed kiss, his tongue unabashed to graze your shy muscle. You hum in surprise, feeling yourself fall backwards when he gently cradles your head to rest on his sweet-scented pillow.

Somehow, you did meet up with your end of the bargain, only with something better.

Something better– like his hips slanted against yours as his mouth spreads shameless ardor across your body.

Something better– like how he whispers your name against your lips like a sacred prayer before he kisses you again carefully.

Something better– like a newfound relationship with Tsukishima Kei, someone you swore was your enemy, but now was someone you could spend your days with in his bed getting warm in ways fire couldn't.

Tsukishima looks into your eyes, tells you his secrets through his dilating pupils. His calloused fingers push your hair behind your ears, and then he kisses your forehead, followed by silk petal kisses on the plump of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and then your lips.

His hands wander beneath your shirt, palms no longer cold as they're heated by the fervor of your body.

"You're so pretty."

"What a sap." you tease. "You're in love with me."

"I am." His nose rubs against yours lightly. "I so am. I'm in love with a dumbass. My ego has exploded."

You hit his face with a pillow.

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!

#tsukishima kei x reader #haikyuu #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff #kei tsukishima x reader #tsukishima haikyu #tsukishima kei #haikyu x reader #haikyu fluff #haikyuu tsukishima #kei tsukishima #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x y/n #hq tsukishima

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uyuuma · 7 months ago

Text

“ YOU DON'T HAVE TO PRETEND ”

jjk!men x fem!reader ღ MDNI.

❥ summary. jjk men's reaction to you faking your orgasm. because real men make sure that you finish first (among numerous times) .

❥ warnings. nsfw, female anatomy, cunnilingus, fingering, toy use, use of pet names, biting, orgasm denial, choking, mentions of overstim, etc.

❥ a/n. writing some shorter form stories for the ADHD girlies (aka me) also writing this for the girlies who struggle to finish from someone else's hands (aka me again)

❥ wc. 3.4k

──★ 𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙾𝚁𝚄 𝙶𝙾𝙹𝙾

Gojo looked at you with a puzzled expression as you panted heavily. His confused expression turned into a slight grin as he pulled his sopping wet fingers out of your cunt.

"Princess, you don't have to lie to me." He cooed, moving his other hand to cup your cheek softly.

He climbed on top of you, caging you against the bed. His silky white hair falling over his eyes as he scanned your gorgeous body.

"I'll always make sure you cum first." Gojo soothed, wiping some of the sweat off of your forehead. "There's no need to rush, I want you to enjoy every second of this."

"H-how'd you know that I-"

"I can always tell." Gojo blurted before you could finish your sentence. "I'm not sure how many men had let you down before me, but you can stop putting up an act with me." Gojo assured with a slight chuckle.

Your face heats up, seeing his bright blue eyes peer into your soul as he waits quietly.

"Okay?" He asked, his eyes unwavering from yours.

"Okay." You murmured, pussy still aching from his touch.

"Good girl." He smiled, kissing you on the forehead. He then sent his hand to glide against your soft stomach, down to your twitching pelvis.

"Let's try this again, this time no pretending." Gojo said teasingly, fingers already parting your slick folds.

You gave a slight nod at his words but quickly gasped after feeling his slender fingers enter you once more. He buries his middle and ring finger to the knuckle and curls them ever so slightly, making sure to massage you tight walls.

Your eager hips buck against his wrist, wanting that ever-elusive orgasm that men had failed to get you to reach before. You realized that Gojo was very different from your past partners, he actually took his time to find every spot that made you twitch and spasm uncontrollably. The places inside you that made you whimper and cry out his name. He truly understood your body and its needs and was willing to give himself an arm workout if it meant you cumming all over his fingers.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head from him moving his free hand to rub circles around your sensitive clit. His fingers pumped in and out of your soaking pussy rapidly, helping you build up that wonderful pressure in your core. His thumb swirled atop your bud causing you to instinctively rock your hips to the rhythm. This, combined with the dizzying pace of his fingers stroking your sweet spot, made you reach your limit.

You arched your spine suddenly, violently shaking as you threw your head back. It felt as if the weight of the world was lifted off your shoulders as waves of your orgasm came crashing down.

"C-cumming!" You sobbed out, this time really meaning it. Your knees buckled and your hands latched onto the sheets, your knuckles turning white from the sheer power of your grip.

Gojo watched as you became completely undone by his hands and grinned in satisfaction. He continued to thrust his fingers in and out, letting you ride out your high as long as possible.

"Good girl." He preened. "See, I knew you were a vocal one." He said in a sly tone.

"Now, how about my turn?" Gojo asked as he slid his underwear down, revealing a fluffy patch of white from below his belt.

──★ 𝚂𝚄𝙶𝚄𝚁𝚄 𝙶𝙴𝚃𝙾

Geto raised his brow in suspicion as you twitched and whined against his tongue. Your rapid breathing and shaky voice tried to make it seem like you came, but it was not fooling Geto.

"Are we acting all of the sudden?" Geto scoffed as you softly let go of his hair. He looked up at you from between your legs. His eyes narrowed when your gaze met his.

"W-what are you talking about?" You muttered, propping yourself up against the pillow.

"Well with how over-the-top your acting was it felt like I was in a porno." Geto jokes, his hands still holding onto the plush of your thighs.

Ooh, busted.

"Sorry Sugu, I just didn't want to make you wait forever." You confessed shamefully, your eyes looking away from him.

"I'd wait however long it took for you to cum all over my tongue, sweetheart." Geto comforted you, his hand reaching to brush against your flushed cheeks.

"Your pleasure is just as important as mine, never forget that baby." Geto's voice sounded like honey as he gave you a reassuring smile.

"Are you sure? It takes me a while to cum..." You asked with a slight pout. You weren't sure if he could actually eat you out for that long without getting sick of waiting.

"Well, if you focused more on your orgasm instead of worrying about me, you'd probably feel a lot better." Geto scolded you with a somewhat annoyed expression on his face.

"Okay, okay. I'll focus on myself this time." You surrendered, feeling the cold air blow against your exposed cunt. The saliva that he had previously left on you made you shiver.

"Good, now lay down and relax." Geto instructed, parting your legs so that he could continue where he left off.

Geto took a second to admire your cute little pussy before he sunk his slick tongue back into your warmth. The way you tasted made his body tingle, he couldn't help but get messy when it came to eating you out.

He used both of his thumbs to spread your cunt, giving him access to your hole, stuffing his tongue as deep as it could go. His tongue expertly thrusted into you, making you arch your back from the sensation. You could feel his hot breath against your clit as he tongue-fucked you for all you were worth.

You had no idea someone could be this skilled with just their tongue, but here you were. You could no longer control your bottom half as you writhed in absolute bliss. Your thighs definitely would've clenched around his head if his grip on you wasn't so strong.

Your eyes fluttered as you bit your lip, the sensation of your orgasm starting to build up. Your thoughts were no longer filled with worries, all you could think about now was how sweet that release was going to feel.

"Mmh, fuck..." You slurred out, your legs quivering from the immense pleasure. You swore you could pass out from how amazing he was making you feel.

He started to thumb your clit carefully, being tactful to find the perfect rhythm for you. When he heard your pants and whines become louder, he knew to continue with his unrelenting pace.

He groaned against your cunt, absolutely obsessed with the way you tasted and sounded. He wanted more of it, he needed more of it.

His tongue plunged sloppily into your hole, his drool running down your thighs and cunt, collecting onto the sheets.

He felt no shame devouring you, in fact it turned him on more that you were making a complete mess of his face. He almost forgot that the whole point was to make you cum, he was just having fun at this moment.

However, your abrupt squeal and the iron grip you had on his hair brought him back to reality. He looked up at you through half-lidded eyes and saw your face contorting in ecstasy. The way your mouth hung open as a silent scream was caught in your throat, it made him smile. This was a real orgasm, you didn't need to say anything to convince him that.

Your body tensed as you came down from your high and then went limp in an instant. Your dazed expression made Geto grin, he was so proud of you for finishing.

Geto wiped the slick from his mouth and got up to crawl over you. "Good job, baby." He praised while hovering over you.

"Since you're already nice and prepped, let's take care of this." Geto said, referring to his painfully hard erection. You looked down to see that he was ready for round two, precum already dripping onto your thigh.

──★ 𝙲𝙷𝙾𝚂𝙾 𝙺𝙰𝙼𝙾

Something didn't seem right about how you shuddered under his touch. He could sense a bit of apprehension in your body movements. Your mouth may have told him you came, but your body betrayed that sentiment.

"I want to make you actually cum." Choso remarked disappointingly. His fingers were skilled and he did make you feel wonderful, but you were really tense and he needed to figure out how to get you to relax more.

"What do you mean, Cho?" You asked sheepishly, your eyes giving away the truth to him.

"Babe, I know you didn't really cum. Your body is as stiff as a board." Choso observed how you looked away in guilt as he said that.

"Yeah, I'm just feeling a little nervous. But, I wanted you to know that I'm still enjoying it either way." You admitted finally. You picked at your nails unknowingly, trying to find a way to break the tension.

"It's okay baby, we can take this at your own pace." Choso responded sweetly, he reached up to pet your head. He gave you a kiss on the forehead and comforted you a little more.

His caresses and soft lips help you control your breathing a little more. You took a deep breath to release the nervousness within your body.

"Tell me, how do you normally get yourself to cum?" Choso questioned politely. His eyes lovingly scanned your expression to see if your demeanor has changed.

"Normally, I use my vibrator." You responded meekly, you could feel your face heat up from the confession of using a toy.

"Can you show me?" Choso insisted, his tired eyes gazed into yours.

"Okay." You agreed, turning over to dig through your nightstand. You found your bullet vibrator and held the button down to power it on. It buzzed quietly on the lowest setting, Choso's eyes following it as you moved.

You moved it so that it could pulse against your clit. The way you jolted from the sudden stimulation made Choso watch intensely. He was enamored with the way your body reacted to such a small toy.

Choso then slid his fingers against yours while you held the vibrator steady against your clit. He wrapped his fingers around it, indicating he wanted to hold it for you.

You let go and instinctively cover your mouth with that same hand. Seeing his eyes hungrily watch your trembling body made you feel so vulnerable. But it felt so good this time, not as nerve wracking as before. Perhaps it was because the vibrator made you loosen up.

Choso turned up the toy to the next level, the buzzing becoming slightly louder. You whimpered in response to this and it made him smile in success.

You could feel heat build in your core, a familiar and very welcomed sensation that made your thoughts fade to nothing. All that was on your mind now was the handsome man between your legs.

Your eyes closed as you focused on the intoxicating high you were on. This was short lived however, since the lewd feeling of his tongue dragging against your thigh made your eyes widen. You gasped, looking down at Choso.

Choso lovingly kissed and licked your right thigh, his arm wrapped around it as your calf dangled behind his shoulder. His right hand steadily pushed the toy against your throbbing clit, applying a pressure so heavenly you swore you started to see clouds.

Your whines and desperate moans were like music to his ears, it made Choso turn up the toy once more.

You shuddered, feeling the vibrations start to reverberate in your spine. It was enough to make your jaw go slack, your breathing much more audible.

Choso nipped at your flesh, making you squeak from the sudden shock. You looked down to see a little hickey left on your inner thigh. It was so fucking hot that you babbled out to Choso, begging him to continue.

He heard you loud and clear, this time sinking his teeth fully into your skin. This bite felt less sharp, but it covered much more space than the first nip. It made you mewl so beautifully, he was becoming drunk off of your moans.

He continued to bite and suck at your supple flesh, leaving bruises and bitemarks along your inner thighs. The twinge of pain mixed with the pleasure from the vibrator made your babbling much more incoherent.

You could feel your orgasm reach the edge, you bit down onto your fist to stop yourself from screaming out Choso's name for the entire neighborhood to hear.

"Gonna cum!" You choked out while biting onto your fingers. Your body convulsed under the immense stimulation, your final squirms made Choso bite down hard. Your head tilted back as you rode your high, you could feel each bite and bruise throb while you cried out his name.

Choso planted a few soft kisses against the teeth marks he left on your plush thigh. He clicked the vibrator off and placed it back on your nightstand.

He admired the work that he had done and how your pussy glistened from all of the slick that you produced. You felt him rest his cock against your sore thigh.

Clearly, he wasn't done yet.

──★ 𝚃𝙾𝙹𝙸 𝙵𝚄𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙶𝚄𝚁𝙾

Toji looked at you with an unamused expression as you tried to convince him of your 'very real' orgasm. His eyes looked at you scathingly, like he was done with your shit.

"I was kind enough to getcha all prepped n' shit just for you to go and fake your orgasm?" Toji seethed while giving you a searing glare.

"Ungrateful slut." He smirked, grabbing your jaw with a vice grip. His fingers dug into your cheeks, making your face become sore.

"Mmmshorryy Toji..." You cried out in a panic. You knew better than to try and fool Toji, you were really in for it now.

"So ya think I'm stupid or somethin'? Huh, is that it?" He sneered, your eyes fixated on the scar across his lips. You could see in how the corners of his mouth moved to show his teeth, that he wasn't playing any games with you right now.

"Ffforgib me Toji." You begged out, your cheeks still smushed tight while in his grip.

"I'll think about it. After I punish you for being so greedy." Toji said maliciously, his gritted teeth turning into a wide grin. That grin never meant anything good, for you anyway.

"Since you don't wanna cum so bad... get on top of me." Toji ordered, flipping your positions so that he was laying on his back, sitting up on the pillows, you awkwardly hovering over him.

He hooked his large finger into the waistband of his sweats and in one swift motion slid his pants and underwear down far enough to let his cock free.

His cock was heavy, but still bounced a bit from being constrained. He gave it a few pumps with his own fist and then let it rest against his stomach.

He moved his arms behind his head, letting his elbows point outwards as he rested his arms against the headboard.

"Grind against it." He commanded, watching you hover over his cock with a dumbfounded expression.

You swallowed the saliva stuck in your throat and lowered your cunt so that it rested on Toji's cock. You could feel his cock throb against your clit and it made you whine pathetically.

"Fuck, I can feel you pulse against me. Dirty bitch." Toji groaned as he felt your pussy coat him in your slutty juices. He moved his arm from behind his head to grip onto your waist. His motions were languid and slow, showing how little work he was going to put into this.

"Thought I told you to move." He commented in an irritated tone. He bucked his hips up to get you to wake the fuck up.

You propped yourself up onto your hands and knees on top of him, your hands holding you up against his chiseled abs. You dragged your hips up and down, his thick cock sliding against your slit. Your clit was stimulated from the grinding and it made you shudder in pleasure.

He grunted, watching how your little pussy struggled to just grind against his girth. He could feel himself grow impatient, he wanted to just stuff you full with his cock right now. But that would be letting you win, so he dealt with the urge.

You began to roll your hips, eyes fluttering as you became lost in that tight feeling growing in your stomach. God... it was so close, you could practically feel your release as if it was on the tip of your tongue. Your breathing became rigid as you sunk against Toji.

You gripped onto his shoulders now, eyes darting into the back of your head, your lewd mouth agape as you came close to euphoria. He loved watching you become desperate, rutting against him like a damn puppy in heat.

"God...Toji m'gonna-"

"Nope. You don't get to cum anymore." Toji denied, his face had a sinister expression. He gripped onto your waist, forcefully slowing down your hips.

You let out such a pitiful whine, it almost made him laugh.

"Whine all you want baby, but we're gonna do this till you learned your lesson." Toji assured you.

"Now, beg for me to let you cum." He snickered.

──★ 𝚁𝚈𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽 𝚂𝚄𝙺𝚄𝙽𝙰

"The fuck was that?" Sukuna barked, not buying into your theatrics for one second.

"Suku, is something the matter?" You stuttered, your heart dropping to your stomach from the shift in his voice alone.

"Do you take me for a fucking fool?" He chided, his hand gripped onto your oversized t-shirt, pulling you up so that your faces could get up and personal.

"Suku... No I-"

"Shut up woman, spare me your pathetic excuses." Sukuna released his grip on your shirt, causing you to fall back onto the bed.

You could feel your breath become caught in your throat, knowing he wasn't letting this transgression slide.

"Did you really think of me as one of your miserable, inadequate partners from before?" Sukuna sneered, obviously offended by the very insinuation.

"I could get you to cum 100 times before anyone could even manage once." He boasted, his brows furrowed into a scowl. How dare you underestimate the King of Curses like that.

You knew better than to interrupt him when he was irritated. So you kept your lips sealed, only nodding or shaking your head in response to his bellowing.

"In fact, that's a great idea isn't it?" Sukuna asked in a husky tone. His scowl turned into an evil smirk as a plan hatched in his head.

"Why don't we make you cum so many times that you pass out? Maybe then you'd understand how easily your body crumbles under my touch." Sukuna spoke aloud. Though it seemed as if he was speaking to you, it was more like him vocalizing his inner thoughts. You knew you had no real say in the matter.

It wasn't long until he was stuffing your pussy full of his giant fingers. Just two was enough to stretch you out, your walls being massaged in short and quick bursts. He pumped his fingers at an almost inhuman pace, you lost count of how many times you came by now.

Your legs couldn't keep up with his thrusts, they just dangled uselessly off of the sides of the bed. You lost count of time, you weren't sure if it had been ten minutes or three hours at this point.

All you knew was that the grip Sukuna kept on your throat as he fucked you stupid made you become lightheaded.

He squeezed your throat just enough to make you choke on your sobs and pleas for him to slow down, but not hard enough to make you pass out. No, that was too good for you, you deserved to keep cumming until you physically couldn't anymore.

Your voice became hoarse, raspy whines being let out each time you inevitably orgasmed again and again.

"Aren't I so generous? My little whore disobeyed me and yet I still rewarded her precious body with my touch." Sukuna gloated, watching your hazy eyes and shallow breathing in satisfaction.

"So...generous." You sputtered, words barely coherent at all.

Although his methods may be relentless, Sukuna was very generous. He gave you more than anyone else had ever before.

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gabgabwrites · 5 months ago

Text

DEUCE | Art Donaldson & Patrick Zweig

summary ⇝ Art has been so stressed about his match coming up against his ex best friend and denies it completely, you’ve begged and begged him to relax before he agrees, until someone interrupts.

warnings ⇝ language, unestablished? relationship, kissing, smut! 3sum, softdom!art, mean!patrick, oral (M & F), masturbation (M), handjob, cum eating, spitting, rough sex, unprotected sex, riding, spanking, minor ass play, groping, scratching, semi-public sex, slight voyeurism, not much aftercare, mdni.

read part 2 here

note: this one is a little 𝒻𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓀𝓎 also is shorter than most of my fanfics, more porn than plot

Tomorrow Art would be playing against Patrick Zweig, his old time best friend and part time rival. Art told you he didn't worry for his match, but you saw the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion and the bags under his eyes grew darker. You told him to take a sleeping pill when he slept but he said he was getting enough hours of sleep, you had to act like you didn't feel him constantly moving around at night, tossing and turning.

"Art, I really think you should relax today. I can book you an appointment with a masseuse to help your muscles, or, y'know, you could sleep," You chewed on your bottom lip after telling him this, Art sighed, stopping his upper body exercises in the small gym.

"It's fine, honey. I'm fine. I feel totally relaxed," He gave you a tight lipped smile before he picked up the orange resistance band and began to pull at it. You watched his eyes glaze over in focus before sighing yourself, pushing off the wall and leaving the room.

You knew better than to press further. Art was stubborn and determined, traits that made him both a fantastic athlete and a frustrating partner at times. You loved him dearly, but his single-minded dedication to his sport often left little room for self-care. As you walked away, you couldn't help but worry about the toll this match against Patrick was taking on him.

The evening passed slowly. You busied yourself with mundane tasks, trying to keep your mind off Art's impending match. The air in your shared apartment felt thick with unspoken concerns. Art, still in his workout gear, moved from one exercise to another, the rhythmic sounds of his routine creating a steady background noise. You watched him from the kitchen, your heart aching for the man who pushed himself so hard.

When dinner time rolled around, you called out to him, "Art, dinner's ready." He nodded, wiping sweat from his brow before making his way to the table. You had prepared his favorite meal, hoping it would bring some comfort.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he said, sitting down and picking at his food. You could tell his mind was elsewhere, probably on tomorrow's match and the strategies he needed to employ.

"You're really worried about this, aren't you?" you asked softly, trying to meet his eyes.

Art sighed, finally setting his fork down. "It's not that I'm worried, exactly. It's just... Patrick and I, we go way back. This isn't just another match. There's a lot of history there."

You reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. "I know. But you can't keep pushing yourself like this. You're going to burn out."

"I know you're right," he admitted, squeezing your hand. "But I can't help it. I need to be at my best."

"I understand," you said gently. "But you need to take care of yourself too. How about we go for a walk after dinner? Get some fresh air, clear your mind?"

Art considered it for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, that sounds nice."

After dinner, the two of you strolled through the nearby park, the cool evening air a welcome change from the stuffy apartment. The rhythmic crunch of gravel underfoot was soothing, and for a while, neither of you spoke. It was enough to just be together.

Eventually, Art broke the silence. "You know, sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice, pursuing this career so intensely."

You looked at him, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's all-consuming. I love it, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I feel like I'm missing out on other things. Important things."

You stopped walking, turning to face him. "Art, you have a passion and a talent that's incredible. But it's okay to have doubts. It's okay to want more than just your career."

He looked down, his expression thoughtful. "I just don't want to let anyone down. Not my team, not my fans... not you."

"You could never let me down," you said firmly. "I love you for who you are, not for what you achieve. And I'm here for you, no matter what."

Art pulled you into a tight hug, resting his chin on top of your head. "Thank you. I needed to hear that."

The walk seemed to have done some good, and by the time you returned home, Art appeared more relaxed. He took a long shower while you prepared some chamomile tea, hoping it would help him sleep better. When he emerged, you handed him a cup, and he accepted it gratefully.

"Let's try to get some good rest tonight, okay?" you suggested, leading him to the bedroom. He nodded, sipping his tea thoughtfully.

As you both settled into bed, you reached over and turned off the bedside lamp. The room was plunged into darkness, the only sounds the faint hum of the city outside and Art's steady breathing.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the quiet room.

"I love you too," you replied, snuggling closer to him. "We'll get through this, together."

That night, Art's restlessness seemed to ease. He still shifted occasionally, but there was a sense of calm that hadn't been there before. You stayed close, your presence a steady anchor in the turbulent sea of his thoughts.

The next morning, you woke to find Art already up, dressed in his gear and looking more focused than he had in days. There was a determined glint in his eye that made you believe he was ready for the match.

"Feeling better?" you asked, stretching and sitting up.

"Yeah," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. "I think I am."

"Good. I'll be cheering for you," You said, giving him an encouraging kiss. You grabbed his racket and headed for his car. Once there, you packed all his equipment in the back. He drove the car this time, to the stadium. You two had gotten there earlier, for many reasons like him relaxing before the match and for him to get last minute practice.

He told you he was going to the sauna for an hour or so, you told him you'd wait outside, on the small bench as you decided to flip through a magazine. As Art headed towards the sauna, you found a small bench outside and settled down with a magazine. The warm, humid air from the sauna seeped out, creating a comfortable ambiance despite the anticipation buzzing in your mind.

Flipping through the magazine, you tried to distract yourself with celebrity gossip and fashion trends, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Art and the upcoming match. You couldn't shake the worry that gnawed at your insides, no matter how hard you tried to focus on the glossy pages in front of you.

Minutes turned into what felt like hours as you anxiously waited. You checked your watch every few minutes, unable to shake off the nervous energy that pulsed through you. Finally, just as you were starting to wonder if you should check on him, the sauna door creaked open, and Art emerged, white towel around his waist, his muscles shiny with sweat and his blonde hair darker and sticking to his forehead.

He called your name, his voice a low, gravelly murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. You looked up from the magazine, your eyes meeting his intense gaze. "Yes?" you asked, your voice coming out softer than intended, laced with a hint of curiosity and a touch of anticipation.

He licked his top lip, his gaze scanning the room briefly before locking onto yours. "I realised I really do need to relax," he admitted with a sigh, pondering how to phrase his next request. "Come here, please?" His voice was soft yet tinged with a hint of longing, inviting you closer with a subtle urgency that stirred something deep within you.

You swallowed, placing the magazine neatly next to the pile of his disregarded clothes on the bench, before standing up and slowly walking towards him. "Yes?" His forefinger found the neckline of your shirt and hooked inside, before abruptly pulling you in making you yelp out in surprise. "Art?!"

"Shh-h-h, someone could hear you," He waited for you to stand up straight, after nearly being curb stomped by the sauna bench and turning to face him. His voice dropped to speak softer. "Help me relax?"

"Art, I-I don't—," The words got caught in your throat when you felt him pick up your hand and gently kiss your fingertips, lips moving to graze over each knuckle before they were on your wrist. "Anyone could walk in."

"They won't," he murmured against your skin, his lips lightly grazing the soft flesh of your forearm. "Please?" His plea was soft and earnest, his voice laced with vulnerability. You let out a gentle sigh, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin, before tenderly moving your hand from his lips to cup his jaw.

"Only because it's getting hot in here," You smirked, Art's eyes shone at your words before his fingers moved to help you peel away your shirt that was becoming damp with moisture. He waited until you were fully undressed, clothes a disregardment, scattered around on the bamboo floor, before kissing you.

Your body was still somewhat dry while Art's was slippery against yours, dewy with sweat. His one hand cradled the back of your neck as you pushed your tongue between his lips, happily obliging to feel you against him. He let out a groan, signalling he wanted more, he needed more. Using little control, he grabbed your shoulders and pushed down on them, forcing you to sit on the bench.

Your lips broke apart before Art smashed them together again. Your fingers went to the white, fluffy towel and began to pull at it, falling apart to reveal his cock, hard and pulsing. "You really are needy?" You murmured, Art whimpered to ensure your questions.

You pressed a hand against his pec, letting it slither down and collect little moisture before your fingers found the tufts of hair below his belly button, following the trail until you reached his cock, wrapping your fingers around the base and slowly pumping your fist.

Art let a gasp, swallowing his moan at your actions. "Sit down, Art," You told him, he basically threw himself down, now kissing you shoulder to shoulder, your hand wrapped around his cock while his left hand squeezed at your thigh and his right curling at his side. "This helping?"

"Yeah, mmm, yes," He groaned, slowly but surely failing to kiss back as you squeezed his cock harder, making his mind go fuzzy. "Please don't stop."

His head fell back, lips parting as he panted and moaned, the crown of his head resting on the wall. Your lips took action down the column of his throat, tongue lapping up at his sweat. You sucked a path down to his shoulder, before allowing your teeth to graze the skin there.

"Art, I want to ride you," You said softly. Art was quick to shift his hips, snapping out a trance so you could slide onto his lap.

His fingers flew to your arousal, massaging at your aching clit to get your hole to relax. "That feels good."

Your fingers pumped his cock still, only at a slower pace. It twitched and throbbed, especially when the pads of his fingers moved and found your hole, feeling you drip onto his fingers. His eyebrows drew together in focus, fingertips breaching your pussy, sinking into it.

You ignored the initial pain of the stretch, humping your hips to sink onto him further. His fingers worked faster to relax your hole before they pulled out, too eager to have you around his length. He grabbed his cock and nudged the pink tip at your entrance, feeling your hands stabilise yourself on his shoulders, and drop onto him, both letting out a moan.

You bent your legs, for leverage, hips bucking into his to get friction while his hands grasped your hips. "You feel so good around me," He gasped. You nodded at his words, lips finding solace on his skin again to kiss his flesh.

It was pure bliss between the two of you, in the warm, sweaty room. Moans and wet sounds bouncing off the walls.

The door suddenly ripped open, a gush of cold air fanned your back. Your head whipped around to see what it was, or rather, who it was; Patrick Zweig, standing in all his naked glory.

Your hips didn't stop their movements, even though Art stiffened at the intrusion. A wicked grin cracked on Patrick's face at the sigh. "Huh. World renowned tennis star getting fucked like a whore in the men's sauna before a big game," Patrick whistled. "Who would've guessed?"

"G-Get out, Zweig," Art said, words stuttering from pleasure.

"No, no. I don't think so. I think I'll just sit here and enjoy the show," You watched him sink down onto the opposite side of the room, brown eyes looking from your face that never left his view, to where you and Art were connected at the hips. He couldn't help the stiffening feeling between his legs, not caring for his cock to slowly harden, and out in the open.

Perhaps you should've stopped and ran out in shame. Perhaps Art should have begged you to stop instead on having his fingers dig deeper into your hips, his own bucking up into yours. Perhaps you should've looked away when you saw Patrick take his own cock in hand and fist it, matching the same pace you fucked Art.

Perhaps it was all the reason you came too quickly, mouth falling open as moans tumbled from your lips, getting Art's thighs coated in your cum. You felt him curl up, his own high nearing. He slammed you down on his cock, before filling you up.

"Aw man," Patrick chuckled, though it was slow and rugged with lust. "The show’s over and I barely started jerking off." He sighed, throwing his hand up, no longer touching himself.

You turned to tuck your head between Art's neck. Panting from your labour. "What do we do?" You whispered to him.

"Wait until he leaves."

He did not. In fact, you heard the floorboards creak with Patrick's weight, until you felt a presence behind you. "Hey, Art," Patrick spoke. "You gonna move over so I can try her?"

Your heart dropped, at first in surprise before your mind mulled over scenarios. Art's eyes shot up and glared at Patrick, who just stood there and smirked. "Excuse me?"

"C'mon, man. It's not like it's the first time we shared her," Patrick had to bring up the one night you three shared in college, the one you never spoke about again. You didn't hate that night, in fact you used to think about it often, but Patrick grew to become a major prick thereafter, forcing you to forget about it.

Art stayed silent, until he sighed. Using his hands, he moved you to look at him. "You can tell him no."

You took in a breath, chewing on your bottom lip. You stared into Art's eyes, looking, searching for any sort of plead, or hesitation, but got none. Did he want to share you? Would he be willing to? "I don't mind," You whispered. "But if you don't want to, then we don't."

Art pried his eyes away from you to stare at Patrick, a multitude of emotions, ones that didn't look all too pleasant. "Only this once."

Patrick let out a grumble through his chest, happy you two agreed. Perhaps it would change the way on court. "You got it, hermano," Patrick slipped a hand on your shoulder, pulling you off Art's lap to stand, back pressing against his chest.

His one arm was wrapped around your shoulders while the other was snaking it's way down, tips of his fingers brushing along your tummy in the ticklish area that had it convulse, until they pressed into your pussy, collecting the residue from both you and Art. When he was satisfied with what was gathered on his fingers, he brought them to his lips and let out a groan at the taste of both of you.

"It tastes so good. You should try," He don't give you time to protest before reaching down to collect more cum before shoving his fingers in your mouth, having you choke and sputter until your tongue licked away at the salty liquids. "God, if that's the way you suck my fingers then I can't wait until I feel you suck my cock."

His fingers left your lips, hand moving down to grope your left breast, squeezing at the flesh.

"Tell me something, Art. How rough do you fuck her—ooh no wait, how rough does she fuck herself on you?" Patrick asked, eyes flirting to Art who just glared at the brunette, knuckles paling as he gripped the bench. Patrick smirked at the silence he got, from both ends.

He roughly grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him, he clicked his tongue in fake pity.

"Poor thing, not treated right?"

"I'm treated just fine," You told him. "Thanks."

"Hm, we'll see." Patrick basically threw you forward, hands seizing your wrists behind your back, having you at a near 90 degree angle, face close to Art's. Patrick used his foot to nudge open your legs. You felt the tip of his cock brush your folds, before he abruptly shoved his entire length inside you, he wasn't as long as Art, but he was more girthy.

Your face screwed in pain, giving you no time to adjust before his hips snapped against yours, fucking into you at light speed. "O-Oh, fuck," You whined, head falling forward from pleasure.

"That's what I thought. Needed someone to fuck you right," Patrick chuckled, taking one hand and slapping your ass, making you howl in pain. Patrick's brown eyes found Art's, who was still glaring at him, yet he had a blush on his cheeks. Patrick smirked. "Take notes."

"If you only fucked her to be an asshole, then you can stop." Art growled, anger sizzling in his chest.

"Nope, just doing it correctly." Patrick nearly fell forwards when he saw a sliver of movements on Art's end. His tongue swiping to wet his bottom lip as he gave Art a shit eating grin. "You bastard. You getting off to watching your old best friend fuck your girl? Dirty, dirty boy."

Gasps and moans clashed in your throat, getting the strength in your neck to look up where Art was, indeed, fisting his cock. Your mouth salivating at the sight. "L-Let me help," You stammered out, letting your lips fall open. Art gently grabbed your head and positioned it lower, sighing when he felt your tongue lap out and lick his tip.

It was so contrasting, the way Patrick was manhandling you, tip nudging that one sweet spot deep within you while his fingers slapped, scratched and groped your ass and Art's gentle caresses on your hair. It was like heaven and hell, all in a sauna, perhaps you were limbo.

"You're squeezing me so tight, baby. I'm so close, gonna let me cum deep in your pussy?" Patrick moaned. Words slurred from drunken pleasure.

"Patrick—." Art warned, a damn near growl escaping his chest.

"Nuh uh, man. I can't pull out now."

"Patrick—."

"Fuck!" Patrick moaned, his movements sloppy as he spilled his seed inside you. Panting as he caught his breath.

He was quick to pull out before dropping to his knees. He grabbed your ass cheeks and spread them apart before he dove his face inside, tongue rolling against your clit.

His own cum spilling from you and onto his nose and top lip. That man ate you out like a starved man.

Art's hips jerked before he was cumming in your mouth, fingers tightening slightly in your hair as your name fell from his lips.

"Gonna cum," You moaned, words coming out unclear as your mouth was still full of Art's cum. You couldn't get the energy to swallow, it slowly dribbled out your mouth, along with your drool and back onto Art's cock, Art couldn't lie and say it wasn't one of the hottest things he's seen, not even phased that you didn't swallow.

Patrick grabbed your hips and pushed you further down onto him, mouth open as you came on his tongue, hips rolling on his face. He swallowed most of it. He stood up, with some of your cum in his mouth and his own spit. His hands still kept your ass spread, pursing his lips, he allowed for the concoction to dribble onto your neglected asshole.

He didn't do anything to penetrate it, only using his forefinger to spread the liquids from your asshole to your pussy, leaving you wet and sticky all over.

Patrick stood back, allowing for you to hobble towards Art and sit down on the bench next to him. "Let's make a bet. If I win, I get to fuck her again."

"Get the fuck out of here," Art spat, grabbing a towel to help clean you. Patrick just chuckled before grabbing his own towel, wrapping it around his hips before pushing the door open and leaving.

Art turned to you, his voice softer.

"Hey, you alright?"

"Yeah," You smiled meekly. "Just promise me this, you'll win."

Anyways, this was inspired by the beautiful sweaty sauna scene:

#gabgabwrites #my works ✎#x reader #art donaldson x female reader #challengers art donaldson #art donaldson x fem reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson smut #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig x art donaldson #Patrick zweig x reader x art donaldson

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bonercoaster · 3 months ago

Text

Tell Me What You're Feeling

“Are you… feeling it too?” You say, almost whispering.

He stops in the middle of the room with his back to you. God, you can see the musculature of his back so well now that he took off that flannel. His fists are clenched and arms strained. Your body is on fire. You see his breathing pick up as he hears you approach him, gently placing your hand on his right shoulder. Joel whips around with a wild look in his eyes, his hand flying to the base of your neck to swiftly push you against a nearby wall, pinning you with his body–one hand at your throat and the other caging you in on your right side.

WARNINGS: filthy smut, a little fluff at the end, choking, sex spore/sex pollen fic, creampie, dominant Joel, fingering, pet names, p in v sex, begging, joel yells at reader but dw it's hot, the sex shrooms compel them to screw each other but they've both wanted this for a while, I know this is a javier pena gif but it was so hot i had to use it :3

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

While on a supplies run with your partner for the day, Joel, it seems he’s been having a pretty grumpy day. Grumpier than usual at least. Something about a deal gone south earlier in the day, you guess. He walks swiftly through the trees, just slow enough that you’re having some trouble keeping up, and fast enough that you’re panting a little.

“Joel for fucks sake, I have little legs can we PLEASE slow down? What’s the rush?” You pant, your lungs and legs begging for respite.

Joel gives you a mean look, raising an eyebrow until he sees just how winded you are. You had to start jogging just to keep up with his brisk walking speed. He looks down, “M’sorry, didn’ realize, let’s take a breather.”

You go sit down on what looks like a fallen tree.

“You okay man? Can’t help but think you’re upset on account of the steam coming out of your ears”

Joel fights a smile at that, you know what to say when he’s having a rough time.

“M’fine it’s nothing.” His knees crack a little as he sits on the floor next to you, leaning on the stump as support for his back.

You roll your eyes at him… typical. But at least he isn’t giving you shit.

You shift your weight a little, beginning to look down at Joel while you start to crack another stupid joke, but suddenly, your seat gives out from under you. The tree you’re sitting on seems to be rotted, and it just collapses, sending you falling butt-first about two feet into the newly created hole. You let out a surprised yelp and a plume of… are those spores?… rise up out of the tree.

“Shit.” Joel, also surrounded by the spores, grabs your hands and helps you out of the hole, dragging your dazed self away from the area.

“Are you okay? Doesn’ look like the cordyceps kind… need a minute?”

You’re dazed, a little shocked but you’re physically okay. “Thanks for pulling me out, I'm fine.”

“Better get goin’ then, there’s shelter close by”

You two traverse through the forest, you’re still a little dazed, and you wonder if you hit your head against the bark but you don’t feel a bump or any pain. A couple of minutes later it gets a little too warm, you shrug off your sweater, leaving you in just a tank top and some shorts, but that doesn’t stop the sweating.

Joel just keeps walking, using the back of his hand to wipe the sweat off his brow. At some point you notice his eyes on you, but it’s awkward and you don’t feel very equipped to talk about anything right now so you swiftly look down and keep walking. Eventually, Joel tears his eyes away from you and just takes the lead, walking in front of you and wiping sweat from his own brow. His breath seems a little more labored than usual but you know better than to bring it up to the sometimes- sensitive- about- his- age, old man. You just keep walking until you realize something’s very wrong.

The fever that’s come over you makes your whole body tingle. Your breasts ache, they feel swollen. Your skin is crawling and you’ve broken out in a cold sweat, and there’s this familiar ache deep inside of you that just won’t go away. It’s getting worse. Thankfully the house is within sight and you’re getting closer. Looking ahead of you, you notice Joel removing his flannel, revealing that he was wearing a white ribbed tank underneath. You notice the sweat glisten down his muscular shoulders and his flushed neck; your breath hitches at the sight of his arms.

He stops for a moment at the sound, before he keeps walking, turning the knob to enter the house. Slowly.

“Are you… feeling it too?” You say, almost whispering.

Towering over you, Joel bends down nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck right underneath your jaw, inhaling deeply. The stubble of his beard lightly scratches against your skin causing you to break out in goosebumps and coaxing a whimper from your lips. Both of you are panting. Sweating, hearts racing. His face drags it’s way up your neck, toward your cheek, until his lips hover over yours. It’s intoxicating, his breath, the feeling of him rubbing himself all over you, his body pressed against yours, the way he smells, the way he is looking at you like you’re a meal to be devoured. It makes you dizzy, it makes you feel weak in more ways than one. The temptation to collapse into him and just let him have his way with you, beg him for more contact, to press your lips against his, to release all of the lewd noises you’ve been trying so hard to hold inside of you.

“You first babygirl, talk to me, tell me what you’re feeling.'' Joel breathes, almost allowing his lips to touch yours. The hand at the base of your neck moving down your chest to begin kneading at your breast, an involuntary whine making its way out of your throat.

“J-Joel.” Is all you could muster while he kneads your tender and sensitive breast. You’ve never felt so much all at once before, it’s overwhelming.

Joel moves his lips back down toward your jaw, growling into your ear “What is it baby? Usually I can’t get ya to shut up. C’mon sweetness, d’ya think you could use your words f’me? Tell. Me. What. You’re. Feeling.” Joel growls out the demand, sending shockwaves down your stomach into your currently most neediest area.

A long whine escapes you when Joel’s lips make contact with the skin under your jaw, sucking on the tender skin there, feeling his teeth and tongue run over the area. Joel keeps slowly kissing and sucking on your tender flesh while you, winded and overstimulated, try to gather the necessary vocabulary to answer his question.

“Joel I.. Please Joel. P-lease ahhh, ahh please.”

“Please what? ‘m gonna need more than that from you, doll.” He says grinding his hard cock against you, making you gasp. “Mmm,” Joel sighs, a rumbling sound that comes from deep in his chest, “You make the most delicious sounds babygirl.”

“Can’t handle… I need… Joel please! I … need… please…need you.” You manage to gasp out, breathless and shaking. Your whole body is on fire, pussy throbbing, breasts even more swollen and needy, legs shaking, every hair on your body standing up on end. You just know you want him to touch you, hold you, kiss you. You want his tongue in your mouth and his cock in your cunt but you can’t verbalize it, so needy and head so cloudy. You’ve wanted this for a long time, but you could never find the courage to initiate anything. “P-lease Joel… please baby.”

At that point Joel’s lips crash into yours with such an insatiable voracity, it knocks the wind right out of you. He kisses you like he’s a man dying of thirst and you’re the first drops of water he’s consumed in weeks. Joel’s tongue forces its way into your mouth and massages against yours while his hips grind against your own. Joel groans into your mouth, and it is the most erotic thing you’ve ever experienced in your life. Your hands find their way up toward his curls while his own hands tug off your clothes, not breaking away from the kiss for more than one second. You’re both in your own little world together, all that exists right now is each other and the pleasure you both receive. You begin tugging at his undershirt furiously, not caring if it rips, just needing to feel more of his bare skin. You hear him chuckle at your desperation, breaking away from you for just a couple of seconds so he could take off his tank, pressing his lips against yours again while he steps out of his pants and boxers. It’s… so big that it’s a little intimidating. Nevertheless, the fire inside of you rages hotter, needing more. Your skin tingling all over and your heart feeling like it is beating a million times per minute.

Almost as if reading your mind, Joel’s fingers trail fire down your bare stomach before they dip into your wet heat, spreading your slick all over your clit, making you cry out. He inserts one of his large fingers inside of you causing you to clutch at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. “Joel please, I need you now, I need, I need you!” You gasp out. You’re unsure how he could handle all this teasing, all you know is that you want his cock inside of you right now and the longer he takes, the more torturous this all becomes. Joel gently pushes you to the floor. He inserts another finger inside of you, and then another. “Joel baby ahh please!” Your cunt throbs around his fingers, you’re so close to your climax, and even though this is the most intense amount of pleasure you’ve ever felt, you can’t seem to get to that much needed sweet release, you think it might actually drive you insane.

“Need t’make sure you’re prepared, baby” Joel pants. He doesn’t seem like he’s doing much better than you are, and it’s a delicious sight. His eyes wide and wild, skin flushed and sweaty. His muscles are tense, like he’s doing everything he can to hold himself back from straight up ravishing you.

You grab him by the jaw and bark “NOW!” Desperate for him to stop holding back and just start

His eyes darken and you see a hint of a smile show up on his face, but it’s different. If you weren’t so horny you might have otherwise found this expression frightening. He swiftly snatches his hand out of you and toward his member, you can’t help the groan that escapes from your lips. He positions himself right at your entrance before thrusting himself fully inside of you, the sensation so intense you can’t help but let out a loud moan that was probably closer to a scream. You both sit there panting for a couple of seconds, you look up at him and he’s squeezing his eyes, trying and failing to hold back groans and growls between his breaths. You realize he’s trying to give you time to adjust, and he’s really struggling. You grind your hips toward his, silently telling him it’s okay, keep moving which results in Joel letting out a sharp hiss before he starts moving.

It’s not long at all before he’s pounding into you with everything he’s got. His hands all over you, caressing your face, teasing your breasts, desperately grabbing at your thighs. With sweat dripping down his whole body and mingling with yours, his eyes are crazed, looking you over while you fall apart around him. Your eyes flutter shut as you get close… close…so close when one of his hands fly to your throat. While continuing to thrust at a punishing pace, he brings his face close enough to kiss you and between pants he growls out:

“LOOK. AT. ME.”

You immediately open your eyes and your orgasm hits you in waves, stronger and stronger, flooding and overwhelming your senses. You see he’s close too, his hips stutter and the rhythm you two had is now lost, Joel is pounding into you with everything he’s got until you feel him release inside of you. You two collapse into each other, exhausted,

You cuddle yourself into him, nuzzling your face into his chest. After a few minutes, Joel clears his throat and speaks up and you’ve never heard him sound so nervous: “I’ve been wantin to do that for a very long time now…but if…” He trails off, takes a deep breath and continues: “If you don’t wanna mention this… I mean if you wanna forget all this happened I would respect that.”

You shift your weight to sit up just a little and bring your hand to his cheek. Joel closes his eyes, he can't help but lean into your hand. You speak up: “I’ve been wanting this for a while too, Joel.”

Joel leans over toward you, and presses his lips against yours. “Alright then.”

#brb i gotta go to confession after writing this absolute filth.#i know that's a pena gif but lets pretend its joel because pHEW #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel the last of us #pedro pascal smut #joel miller/you #joel miller/reader #joel miller tlou #the last of us hbo #joel miller the last of us #joel miller/reader smut

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innerfare · 2 months ago

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Smutty Mihawk Headcanons

Summary: a collection of NSFW Mihawk headcanons

Genre: pure smut (afab!reader)

CW: a little bit of knife play (cutting clothes not skin), dirty talk, low-key masochist Mihawk, exhibitionism on the down low

———

Bisexual icon.

King of sexual tension.

Marine hunter? More like marine fucker.

Is eternally bored, but has a keen interest in lingerie, and he rather likes cutting it off you. He never thought he would enjoy drawing a knife or sword during sex, but he finds the trust you put in him invigorating.

A very passionate lover. His insistence on being the best carries over into the bedroom. As such, he’s no fan of quickies. He wants you tied up in his four poster bed, the curtains pulled back to allow moonlight to filter in from the balcony, your naked body sprawled across his silk sheets until the sun rises.

Talks dirty but getting a moan out of this man is like pulling teeth. Also won’t tell you if you’ve pleased him. Your only indication is that he comes back for more.

Of course, if you do want to get a moan out of him, the best way is to hurt him. Likes if you rake your nails up and down his back, yank his hair, bite him (especially the spot between his thumb and index finger after sucking his fingers), squeeze his face in your hands, maybe even slap him.

And then there's his bondage kink. If you tie him up, it better be to whip him. He'll start out goading you in that bored tone of his, accusing you of half-assing it, telling you to hit him harder. You know you've gotten to him when the comments cease and he bites his lip, his brow furrowing.

Doesn’t just fuck. He spars.

Saying it again, cannot emphasize this enough, he loves a biter.

Wants a partner who wants to be chased, as most people either throw themselves at his feet or run away with no hope of being caught. Will chase you down the halls of his castle and ravage you wherever he catches you. Poor Perona has a list of sofas she no longer sits on, counters she refuses to put food on, and entire staircases she avoids. There are even certain mirrors she doesn’t want to look in, even if the marks have been wiped away. Zoro doesn’t fully believe her when she gives him the rundown, thinking nobody can be that feral, particularly not his stoic teacher, who in his mind is the picture of restraint and civility, until he’s training by himself one day in the courtyard and happens to see you appear in one of the towers, only for Mihawk to appear after you and rather lewd sounds to follow. Also sees Mihawk fucking you hard in a window one time, and over a balcony another time. Zoro quickly learns not to enter the wine cellar between the hours of six and ten PM.

Lives for dangerous sexual situations. Has fucked you in the woods at night despite the menagerie of dangerous beasts running around, has fucked you from behind in an open window several stories high, your front half hanging out, has even fucked you in his small boat on stormy, raging seas. Every duel he has ever enjoyed has been charged with sexual tension.

In addition to these trysts, he wants you in his bed every night after dinner. You either shower or bathe together, and then he works you into a sweat so you need another one.

Worries deeply if you ever reject his advances, thinks it must be his fault. “Have I displeased you in some way? Tell me, my love, and I will make it right.” It’s times like this that any veneer of disinterest falls away and you see just how much he cares for you.

Has certain pet names reserved for the bedroom. “My mewling kitten,” is his current favorite.

Always does that thing where he strokes your temple with his thumb when he fucks you in missionary. It’s supposed to be a reassuring gesture when you’re struggling to take all of him, but it riles you up more than it calms you down. Uses his other hand to pull one of your legs up as far as it will go, so he’s pinning you down but comforting you about it.

Loves to feel you up in the bath.

If he has more than one glass of wine, he will be going down on you. The more wine he has, the bigger his appetite for you. It gets worse with stronger liquor. When the Red Hair pirates come to stay and Shanks insists on breaking into the whiskey Mihawk keeps for that very occasion, you know you won’t be sleeping until they leave (and that Shanks will be going down on you, too).

His favorite is to go down on you on his dining table. It makes you feel very exposed considering he strips you down but remains clothed (as is common with Mihawk when he's domming) and the dining room is very large with many doors that anyone could walk through. But that's what Mihawk enjoys about it.

If you go down on him, his hands will most certainly be in your hair. He loves smoothing your hair, and if it’s long, pulling it back into a makeshift ponytail to get the best possible view of your pretty face.

Once moaned Shanks’ name in bed. Neither of you ever addressed it, but you do always flirt with Shanks when he and his crew come around because it seems to peak your lover’s interest. You haven’t proposed a threesome because you don’t want to share him with the Red-Haired drunk.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece #one piece headcanons #mihawk #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #one piece mihawk #mihawk x reader #op mihawk #mihawk smut #Dracule mihawk smut #mihawk x reader smut #shanks #red haired shanks #one piece smut

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aerynwrites · 1 year ago

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Lovers Embrace

Halsin x afab!reader

A/N: I finally have an excuse to use the shirtless Halsin gif and I couldn’t be happier lmao. But yes - sex pollen/potion fic at your service 😏 hope y’all enjoy!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! Smut, sex pollen trope and all that comes with it, accidental consumption of aphrodisiac potion, reader has female anatomy, PiV sex, oral (female receiving), nudity, unprotected sex, fluff.

The only sound filling the tent is of the pestle grinding down into the mortar. It’s uncharacteristic for the camp to be so calm and devoid of sound, but most everyone else had agreed to Karlach’s idea of a jaunt into the city to spend the rest of the day at the Elfsong Tavern.

They had tried to get everyone to go, but Halsin chose to stay back and you followed suit - both because you won’t ever say no to some alone time with your partner, and because you had also wanted to stock up on some potions.

Which is where you are now - you’ve already got a good batch of lesser healing potions brewing and you’re currently working on a potion you found a recipe for, which just seems to be an amped up version of the greater healing potion while adding in a stamina aspect as well.

Halsin had left not long ago to look for a bit more of one of the ingredients, since you’re working with the last of what you have. Just as you finish preparing the ingredients, the first batch of the trial is done.

You look over the instructions one more time just to double-check that everything you’ve done was correct before taking the vial in hand, appraising your handy work.

Silently, you wish there was a better way to test potions rather than trying them outright, but if something were to go awry, you know Halsin isn’t far.

The potion is tinged red like the other healing potions, but held up to the candlelight, you can see that it’s slightly purple as well. Most likely from the stamina portion of the potion.

Slowly, you bring it towards you, carefully sniffing the concoction. When nothing seems off, you finally place the vial against your lips. The liquid is warm as it hits your lips and spreads over your tongue, and you automatically notice a difference in taste.

The other healing potions taste medicinal in nature, not at all pleasant. But this is…different. Sweeter. It’s more rich as well, coating your mouth and throat in a syrupy thickness as you consume it.

You pull the vial away from your lips and stare at the empty glass curiously before glancing down at your hands. You’d been sparring with Lae’zel earlier, resulting in bruised and split knuckles - the perfect way to test this new potion.

Except…they’re still there. Even after you wipe away the dried blood, the minor injuries are still present. Quickly, you set the vial off to the side and look back to your notes. Maybe the potion has a delay in effect, or takes longer than usual?

However, after reading over the notes several times, one particular phrase leaps off the page.

Effects are immediate.

So why isn’t it working?

You move to look over the ingredients once more, but stop as you reach for them. Your hands are shaking. Badly. And not only that - it feels as if the air in the tent has risen several degrees, a cold sweat breaking out along your skin.

Oh fuck.

Did you just poison yourself?

You move to stand but the world sways, mind foggy as a wave of…something rushes through you and settles low in your belly. Your knees almost buckle beneath you as something all too familiar clenches in your core.

“Halsin!” His name is falling from your lips before you can even stop it, not even wondering if he is in ear shot to hear you.

Panic is settling in now, fear of not knowing what you consumed or what it’s going to do to you. You stagger towards the tent’s entrance, pulling the flap back just as your partner does the same.

He stands before you, brows furrowed as he looks down at you. “I heard you call out as I came back into camp. Are you alright, my love?”

You shake your head, wanting to tell him no, you’re not alright, when your eyes land on the bundles of plants in his hand. Confusion fights its way to the front of your mind as you reach out to touch the plants.

“What is that?”

Halsin looks even more concerned now, “It is what you asked me to gather for the potion you are working on. Is it not?”

You shake your head, turning back to the desk to pick up the last stalk of belladonna you have before showing it to Halsin. “No, I needed belladonna, I-ah-“

Another wave of, what you now realize is pleasure courses through you, finally bringing you to your knees. But Halsin is quick. His hands catch you before you hit the ground as he gently lowers you both to your knees.

His concern is palpable now as he looks from you to the plant in your hand, and finally to the empty vial on the desk. His grip on you tightens.

“That is not belladonna,” he informs you, pulling away to show you what he gathered. “This is.”

“Then what…what is this?” You choke on a gasp, curling in on yourself. “What did I drink? Am I…Did I poison myself?”

Halsin quickly reaches over you to take the papers from the desk, scanning them over quickly. His eyes widen slightly before he lets out a soft sigh, eyes falling shut tightly.

“You did not poison yourself, my heart,” he tells you, causing a slight sense of relief to course through you.

However, any relief is overshadowed by the aching need now flowing through your veins. And Halsin’s presence just seems to make it worse, his smell invading your senses, his presence calling to you. You try to shove it away.

“Then what is happening?” The words are a plea on your lips as the pain starts to bloom in your belly, gnawing into your very bones.

Sensing your discomfort, Halsin speaks quickly, tossing the things aside in favor of taking the plant still gripped in your hand.

“This is Lover’s Nettle. It’s a rare plant, so I am surprised you stumbled upon it.” He reaches over you again to trade the plant for the empty vial on the desk, sticky purple residue still stuck to the glass.

He takes a small sniff and his lips quirk upwards ever so slightly. “It seems you accidentally created an aphrodisiac potion, little one - a potent one at that.”

Embarrassment wells up in your chest, almost strong enough to overwhelm your other senses. “I…what?”

Ever attuned to your emotions, the druid takes your face gently in his hands, turning your gaze towards him. “I have encountered what I believe to be this same elixir in the days of my youth. They called it Lover’s Embrace, as I am sure you can see why-“

“Halsin, you know I love you, but please-” Your plea comes out in a whine. “Is it harmful?”

Halsin smiles at you, that all too familiar twinkle in his eye. “No, my heart, it will not harm you. But it does tend to cause great discomfort until one’s…baser needs are met.”

“What?” you gasp, “why would someone create something like that?”

Gently, not wanting to rush you, Halsin readjusts and tugs you into his lap. The new position has you straddling his lap and places you slightly above him so the usually taller man has to gaze up at you for once.

“For many reasons, but the most common is just for pleasure’s sake - it was very common in brothels in the city to increase one’s pleasure during their time there.” Halsin’s voice is low now, his hands tracing patterns onto your back and making it even harder for you to stay focused.

“Although, the potion was meant to be consumed by both parties, but…” he’s leaned in now, lips brushing your jaw as he speaks. “It seems you’ve taken enough for the both of us.”

His words, his lips, the way his hands caress you, it all comes together to snap that final tiny string of restraint you had left. Turning, you capture Halsin’s lips with your own, your hands coming up to fist in the material of his shirt as you finally let the potion take over.

Gods, you want him.

You always want him, but now…you feel as if you’ll shatter into a million fragile pieces if he doesn’t touch you.

Halsin, always attuned to every part of you it seems, quickly obliges your silent thoughts. Large hands run from your hips up your sides, rucking up the fabric of your shirt as he does until, eventually, he slips his hands beneath the piece of clothing. They’re warm, as they always are - but now it feels like they’re on fire, scorching a path on your skin as he moves ever upwards, fingers trailing delicately along your spine.

“Halsin.” His name is a plea on your lips as you pull away from the kiss, forehead falling to rest against his own. “Please…”

His lips land on the corner of your own before trailing down to your jaw and lower, stoking the flames even more, until he finally moves to tug your shirt over your head - separating you both for just a brief moment before his lips are on your skin once more.

“Tell me what you need from me, my heart. State your desire and it is yours.” Halsin’s voice is low, almost a rasp as his lips brush over your neck, stopping there to suckle the skin sweetly, teeth barely grazing before moving lower.

His hands never cease their movement, both steadying in ther strength yet infuriating in the way the flit about, never staying in one place for too long and never seeming to touch you where you want him most.

A gasp slips past your lips as his thumb brush just below your breasts, and you squeeze his shoulders sharply. “Just…touch me, Halsin. Kiss me, touch me, fuck me just- please-“ Your words end on a moan as he places a particularly sharp bite to your shoulder. “Just do something, anything.”

Faster than you can blink, Halsin has you on your back beneath him, the furs that make up the tents floor soft beneath against you.

“Careful, my heart,” Halsin warns, voice low. “Your presence alone tests my control, but with words like that I cannot promise I will be able to contain it.”

You fist the fabric of Halsin’s shirt in your hands where they rest on his sides, trying to pull him impossibly closer from where he hovers over you.

“Then lose it,” you gasp, rolling your hips up into his own in search of some - any kind - of friction. “I just want you, I don’t care how. Just, please…”

That word, the one that’s already fallen from your lips several times tonight, finally reaches the man above you. His mouth is on you as soon as he hears it and you don’t bother to fight back the sounds that fall from your lips as he starts a path down your body.

The heat that started after you drank the potion feels like molten lava beneath your skin, and Halsin’s lips are doing little to douse the fire. Teeth scrape at the tender flesh of your chest before moving lower, as if he’s as desperate to touch you as you are.

After what feels like an eternity, his nose brushes the waistband of your pants, and before you can so much as think about begging, his hands are already taking them off, taking your underwear with them.

Halsin is an experienced and thorough lover, typically drawing things out to give you both the most pleasure possible. Tonight, however, he must take mercy on you. Because the moment your trousers are tossed to the side, his mouth is on you.

You almost come right there, the second you feel his tongue on you, drinking in your arousal. It’s like electricity shoots through you, and you can’t suppress the cry that falls from your lips, your hands shooting down to tangle in his hair.

Thick fingers dig into your thighs, keeping your hips pressed to the floor and his lips against your center.

You can’t stop writhing against him as his tongue presses against your clit teasing that bundle of nerves as one hand starts to slide downwards, fingers slipping through your folds to press against your entrance.

“Ah, Halsin-“ His name is like a prayer on your lips, begging him to keep touching you, afraid of what will happen if he doesn’t.

Your lover praises your plea with action, finally pressing two fingers into your warm heat. Normally, he would have to work you up to this, but with how wet you are and what you assume to be the work of the potion, he faces no resistance.

Immediately, stars erupt behind your eyes, and you are catapulted off the edge. Your climax comes on so suddenly it steals your breath away, your back arching upwards as your body fights to get closer to the source of your pleasure. It’s as if the potion has made every nerve ending more sensitive. Euphoria washes over you, and Halsin coaxes you through the tumultuous waves, lapping at you until you feel there’s nothing left.

It feels like there is not enough air to fill your lungs as you lay panting on the floor, a pitiful whine escaping your lips as Halsin pulls his fingers from you.

You watch through half-lidded eyes as he licks your spend from himself before your head falls back onto the soft furs.

Warm lips press to the inside of your leg before traveling upwards again, leaving barely-there kisses to your hips, then your stomach, then upwards still. His slow ascent gives you just enough time to gather your senses once more, just enough to realize that it’s still there.

That need. The fire beneath your skin. Even if it’s slightly dulled, you can feel the flames growing once more.

Halsin presses his lips to the valley of your breasts, then your collarbone, reaching your neck before you can gather enough words to speak.

“Gods,” you groan, arms moving to wrap around his shoulders as he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, a breathy chuckle brushing over your cheek.

“I told you it was a potent mixture,” he says, voice full of amusement as he settles between your thighs.

It’s then, as you struggled to pull him closer, that you realize he’s still fully clothed. You paw at his shirt, your arousal growing hot in your belly once more.

“Off.”

Halsin can’t help but laugh again, kissing away the frown that tugs at your lips.

“As my lady commands.”

In a flash of that all too familiar druidic magic, his clothes are gone, leaving him blissfully bare above you.

Despite the need coursing through you, you can’t stop the way your eyes trail over him. The muscles rippling in his shoulders as he adjusts his position, the dark hair dusting his chest, the way his hair falls over his shoulders as he gazes down at you.

Taking his face in your hands, you lean up to capture his lips in a desperate kiss - one he returns eagerly.

He dips lower, his forearms resting beside your head as he moves to press flush against you. A moan escapes you, his body fitting perfectly against your own. You can feel him, hot and heavy against your core, can sense the way he tries to restrain himself but fails as his hips rut against you.

Halsin pulls away from your lips, chest heaving with ragged breaths as he presses his forehead to yours. You watch the slight grimace in his face as his eyes flicker open and a flash of gold overtakes them before disappearing.

The beast.

Gods, if you weren’t desperate for him the way his now, you’d tell him to let go. Beg for him to devour you like you know he’s able. But you don’t, instead you wrap your legs around his waist as fingers dig into his back.

“Halsin please, I can’t wait another moment, just-” A whine escapes from your throat as he rolls his hips again, teasing your clit as he pressed harder against you.

“Take me.”

He needs no more encouragement, lining himself up before thrusting into you in one fluid motion. Your body gives way to him with ease, taking him to the hilt in one thrust that pushes the air from your lungs.

You dig your heels into him, begging him to move as words escape you, a request he complies with eagerly. His thrusts are firm, and soon he’s built up a steady rhythm that brushes against that devastating spot inside you each time.

His head falls to the crook of your neck, kissing just below your ear and nipping the delicate skin with blunt teeth.

“I am not ashamed to say I have fantasized about this,” Halsin breathes, voice ragged as he continues to move against you, arms slipping beneath your shoulders to wrap you in a snug embrace.

“I imagined what it would be like having you like this beneath me, writhing and needy just as you are now.”

His words spark something within you, increasing the pleasure pooling in your belly and forcing a moan from your lips again. “Halsin…”

He lets out a groan of his own at the sound of his name on your lips, and suddenly your world is spinning as he hauls you up from the floor. He’s on his knees now, you in his lap as he continues to thrust up into you, arms wrapped securely around your body to keep you pressed flush against him.

The new angle allows him to press deeper, sending shocks of pleasure that have your fingers tingling and toes curling as you sag against him.

A firm hand settles at the back of your head, cradling it gently as his lips brush your ear.

“But in my dreams, it’s not just you who’ve consumed the elixir. Instead, we both indulge.” A kiss is pressed to your cheek, arms tightening around you as his thrusts become more frantic and that familiar coil in your core starts to pull taut.

“The potion works as it’s designed, making us crave each other to the point of lust-addled passion. The craving is so strong that all control is lost and there is nothing but pure pleasure as we claim each other.”

Gods, his words are pure fuel to the fire within you, creating images you don’t dare to push away. Fingers dig into his back, your nails no doubt leaving marks on his tanned skin as you cry out.

“Halsin, please, I’m close, I-“ A strangled moan leaves your lips as one of his hands works its way between your bodies to tease your clit.

“Come for me, my heart,” Halsin says, his voice a whispered command against your skin. “Let me hear my name on your lips once more.”

All it takes is one more press of his hips for you to obey. The coil snaps and you are falling once again into unadulterated bliss, Halsin’s name flowing from your lips like a mantra.

He works you through your climax as he chases his own end, a few more harsh thrusts before he’s filling you with a groan, then going still against you.

Slowly, ever so gently, he leans forward, laying you amongst the furs before following suit.

You wince slightly as he moves away from you, but quickly settled into the arms he offers you, cheek against his damp chest and one leg thrown over his own as you press against his side.

Exhaustion tugs at every part of your being, but despite being blissed out and spent, you can still feel that smoldering ember in your belly, unsure if it is the pleasure still waning or the potion waiting to be flamed once more.

“Is it…how long does it take for it to wear off?” you ask softly, tongue heavy in your parched mouth.

Halsin hums and you can feel the vibrations against your cheek as he reaches up to place a hand against your forehead.

“You are still running hot,” he observes before dropping his hand to rub soothingly up your arm. “This particular mixture does not wane quickly,” he tells you, a tinge of apology in his voice. “It may be well into sunrise before it completely leaves your system.”

He smiles then, an action you see solely because his words cause you to look up at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. “That long?”

Halsin laughs, nodding and pulling you against him again. “It is a powerful concoction. However,” he pauses, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, “it is gracious enough to give you brief respites. So, sleep now, my heart, and when the tendrils of desire pull you from your slumber I will be here waiting.”

Your eyes are already slipping closed as he speaks, your limbs resting heavily against him as he holds you close.

And as you drift off to sleep you can’t help the eagerness that stirs in your chest for what awaits when you wake.

Tags:

@daedriclys

#halsin x reader #bg3 x reader #halsin bg3 #bg3

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multi-fandom-imagine · 10 months ago

Note

Can we get a one shot of reader's labor experience with luci 🥺👉👈 idk reading partners supporting reader during birth makes me have the happy flaps. After youre done with the demon form smut ofc-

A/n: smut must be paused! Cause I love writing Dad!Lucifer things! Please send me more dad!Lucifer things

You couldn't asked for a more supportive husband than Lucifer. The King of hell would hardly leave your side during your pregnancy. He loved touching your stomach, talking to the baby.

And then your water broke.

Lucifer couldn't help but panic, though he's been through this before but he was still scared. He didn't want to fuck this up, so many thoughts ran through his mind. He tried to ignore the doctor speaking to you, trying to calm you down.

You looked so scared, he hated seeing you in this much pain. Coming to your side, Lucifer did his best to give you an easy smile. He'd do anything to take your pain away, to take your mind off of everything.

Grasping your hand gently, Lucifer did his best to bot flinch at your pained cries as you clutched his hand tightly. "It's okay Angel....you got this." Leaning in he placed a soft kiss to your head. "I know you got this...you're so strong."

Letting out a small whimper, your hand gripped Lucifer's tightly as you gave another push as he didn't even flinch from how tightly you gripped his hand. "It hurts." You whimpered.

Wiping the sweat from your brows, he sunk his fang into his lower lip then sat himself behind you holding you to his back. "You got this." He placed a kiss to the side of your head. "You'll be such a wonderful mother, and I'll always be here for you."

Leaning into Lucifer's chest, you took an easy breath in. His voice was so soothing, the way he gently held you. You knew you could do this, and soon you'll have your child in your arms.

"Thank you."

"You have nothing to thank me for my love."

#drabbles #drabble #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x y/n #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #kid fic

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gatorbites-imagines · 1 year ago

Note

I was reading your Bruce Wayne alphabet and I saw that you had mentioned cuddlefucking and dom/sub on his kink list! Was wondering if you’d be willing to do a post where the reader edges Bruce while they’re cuddling or something like that?

Just Reader kissing Bruce all over and praising him after a hard mission making him feel head fuzzy mixed with Reader making slow love to Bruce, edging him until he’s overwhelmed (in a good way) and maybe crying a bit.

Bruce Wayne x male reader

Drabble

Ever since I wrote my bruce wayne kinktober prompt I’ve been thinking about him being submissive so much. I think Bruce would thrive with a partner to take care of him sometimes.

I wrote this with the reader being big and thick in mind, think those buff guys with a layer of chub over the muscle, but you can imagine it however you want.

The blanket was hot on top of you, it was one of the thickly woven cotton ones, made from some material that probably cost more than you could imagine. But even as sweat beaded on your brow, you simply pulled Bruce closer to your soft chest. He was laying with his back towards you, your stomach pressed into the arch of his muscular back as your arms wove around him and held him tightly.

Small huffs and muffled whines left him as one of your hands worked up and down his slick length, the heavy blanket barely moving with the motion as you pressed kisses against the bruises that littered his shoulder and neck. A needy noise left him as you nibbled at a bruise on the underside of his chin, where some goon had clocked him with a crowbar the other day. The slight pain from the bruise, mixed with the almost euphoric feeling of being held as your hand worked his length had Bruce feeling like he was gonna melt.

He had been working on cases nonstop for days, in the end you had pulled him into your shared bedroom and pulled the heavy blanket over the two of you. It had started as cuddling, as you knew your partner loved that more than anything, though he never said it out loud. But soon you found your clothes being chucked out from under the blanket, Bruces back sticking to your front from the sweat that developed from your closeness and the warmth it developed.

Maybe Bruce was dehydrated, as he panted and bit back a louder whine as you drew him near the edge before releasing your slick hand from his cock, his hips bucking from the loss of touch. It was a process you repeated a couple more times, your voice thick with praise as you kept kissing his back and neck, mumbling into his ear as you built him up only to let him fall again, not giving him the release he craved.

It was only when Bruce melted into the bed and his noises stopped being so choked, when he turned his head to hopefully catch your lips with his, when you knew he was floating slowly away to a lighter mental state that you took pity in him. The jerks and twists of your hand grew more purposeful as his noises rose in pitch, tears beading in his blue eyes as his hips twitched and his thighs tensed.

But like this he was so good, he couldn’t finish without your approval, so even as he whined and cried, he kept being good for you. It was only when you finally mumbled into his ear that he could cum that Bruce did, spilling into your palm with a shaky moan, his entire body twitching and shuddering as you dragged it out as long as possible, until his whimpers and whines became those of overstimulation.

He let out a sad noise as you crawled out from under the blanket to get what you needed to clean the two of you up, but you knew neither of you would enjoy waking up to dirty sheets, so it was a small sacrifice. But when the worst of your and Bruces sweat had been wiped off with a cloth, your hands washed, and a new blanket draped over your lovers scarred body, you crawled in beside him again.

Bruce almost arched into your touch, like a touch starved cat, melting against your pecs as he gripped onto your softer middle, a loud sigh leaving him as he seemed to melt against you. You swore he would have started purring if he had the ability, especially as you ran your hand through his hair and scratched his scalp, the already loose body growing heavier against you.

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bitch-for-bo · 1 year ago

Text

The Better Brother (artist! Matsukawa x chubby fem reader) 18+

miss me? ;)

NSFW; MINORS GTF OUTTA HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!

TW: you're a cheater BUT you only cheat on a cheater asshole AND we support women's wrongs :))))

summary: Your fiancé leaves you across the ocean to sort out this whole 'wedding' thing all by yourself. Well.... lets just say that YOU get sorted out instead ;).

(((((((((loosely based on the movie Moonstruck (heavily recommend!!!!))))))))))

“Married?....... You want to get married?......to me?”

You wondered what you looked like at the moment, you wondered if your eyes were bugging out of your head or if your jaw looked completely locked in its unhinged position.

It definitely felt like they were.

It felt like your whole world had just come crashing down around you. All because of those 4 little words.

“Why not? You’ve taken care of me for the last 5 years, I want to take care of each other for the rest of our lives.”

…..this wasn’t a part of your plan.

You didn’t quite know what your life plan was…. But it definitely wasn’t this.

“Why now?” you whisper, noticing that for every second you didn’t answer your boyfriend with an ecstatic yes, another restaurant patron's eyes locked onto you. You could feel your face growing hot with embarrassment and yet you still couldn’t blindly accept this proposal, not without knowing why.

“Why not now?” he asked, taking your hands into his. You could see the sweat starting to form on his hairline, the anxiety of public rejection becoming apparent in his tone as you worked to avoid his gaze.

Why not now?

Does he not hear himself? Why not now?

“I just-” you stuttered out, taking your hands back into your own laps, wiping the moisture off your palms against your thighs.

“-Just hear me out!” He cut you off, perhaps a bit too loudly as well, seeing as the crowd of nosy spectators seemed to be inconspicuously growing by the second. He looked frazzled, in fact, this might have been the most affected that you’d ever seen him. Usually, he was the cool-headed one, the blasé, jaded businessman. But now he sat, his voice raising with each word, face red with humiliation. He looked panicked, far too panicked for the situation.

“My mother…” He started, clearing his throat, trying to collect himself before he could make a fool of himself in public.

Ahh… his mother

you thought….. That was obviously why he was so panicked. That was why he was asking you this all of the sudden.

His mother was pressuring him.

Well, the joke is on him, you’re not gonna give in just because of the wishes of his mother.

“....My mother is dying.”

If your eyes weren’t bulging out of your head before, they definitely were now.

“w-What- when?..... Oh god….” you gasped, the guilt automatically washing over you as you watched your partner's face melt into worry, his brows knitting together as you brought your hands back onto the table to envelope his.

“They called me this morning…. They asked me if I could fly back home to….. ya know?”

“Of course..” you nodded, “you need to be with her right now…. Have you booked your flight yet? Should I try to book it now?”

Now listen…. It was a serious situation. And a horrible one at that, and you were 100% devoted to getting your partner home to his dying mother. But you couldn’t deny that you were also trying to steer the conversation back away from marriage.

But he wasn’t going to let you forget.

“Darling please….” he sighed, squeezing your hands in his, “my mother, she once told me that all she wants in this world… all she wants… is to see me happy… to see me married. And I want you to marry me.”

“God….” you sighed “I just….. You’re sure you want me?...”

He nods, holding your gaze.

It felt like his eyes were melting into your face. And if that wasn’t bad enough, there were still a good handful of people burning holes into your back. They were all expecting an answer.

Not only that, they were expecting a particular answer. An answer you weren’t sure that you were ready to give.

But for god's sake, the man’s mother was dying, and he pretty much made it sound like her dying wish was for her son to marry. If you said no now you’d be a monster.

Against your better judgment, you glanced around the restaurant, your eyes meeting the eager gazes of not only fellow patrons but staff as well. God, was that a tray of champagne waiting??

After scanning the room, your eyes finally made it back to the man who just asked you to marry him.

“Yes.” you whispered, offering him a small, unsure smile.

A smile that he returned tenfold, announcing to the restaurant, “she said yes!” prompting applause and congratulatory champagne.

He slipped the ring onto your finger, kissing your hands as you sat and watched him with that same small smile on your face.

“Now of course, I’ll have to fly out to my mother, but we should get married as soon as possible.” He said, dropping your hands to take a long drink of champagne. “I trust you want to organize the wedding?”

So much was happening, staff was swarming around you, pouring drinks and grabbing your hand to inspect the ring, and the restaurant chatter had resumed, and somehow along the way a violinist had been called in to serenade you as well.

You felt like your brain was being torn into 5 different pieces, all equally painful and all equally taxing.

You couldn’t even answer his question before he’d moved on in the conversation, rambling about flight times, how long he’d be staying, and who was going to fill in for him at work.

You were definitely overstimulated by the complete chaos surrounding you, but you told yourself it would be okay, that you could just zone out until he eventually tired and decided to drag the both of you home for the night.

Were you ready to get married? Hell no! But what were you supposed to do?

God, what would your parents say about this? Marrying a man nearly 20 years your senior. Did you love him? Of course!

….well…..maybe…… you definitely felt a strong connection with him……. so then what was this dread?

It was just anxiety. It had to be. After all, you had never planned to get married in the first place. You’d seen one too many marriages fail, one too many couples grow to hate each other and you’d sworn it off.

It wasn’t that you hated marriage in particular, you’d seen plenty of happily married people, you suppose it was just the fact that in your mind, it was impossible for you to be one of those happily married people.

You’d never been good at relationships. In fact, your current relationship had been eerily long. Usually, something would’ve happened by now. You would’ve walked in on him cheating, or you would’ve woken up to all of his stuff gone. But that hadn’t happened yet.

So maybe it was love, you told yourself. Maybe he was the love of your life and you were ready to get married.

After all, 5 years is a crazy long time, right?

Far too long to stay with a man you didn’t love……right?

What had you gotten yourself into?

Within the week, your now fiance had booked a flight out to his home city, leaving you behind with a long wedding to-do list.

On the positive side, after your initial dread spiral, you were feeling much better. You reminded yourself that everything happened for a reason and that there was no reason that your marriage couldn’t be any less fulfilling than the last five years had been.

You reminded yourself that your partner had stuck with you for five years, that kind of stuff doesn’t just happen to people who aren’t ready for marriage.

Anyways, you felt much better….. Happy even.

Your parents definitely could’ve taken the news of you marrying an older man…… better….. But at the end of the day, they admitted that as long as you were happy… they were too.

In all honesty, you think that they were mostly just relieved that you found someone to marry you.

Your family would never say it out loud, but you often thought that none of them believed you would ever find someone to be with. Deep down you felt like your parents always betted on your siblings for things like inlaws and grandchildren.

And you couldn’t blame them necessarily. You weren’t the conventional definition of beauty (a fact that all of your exes had brought to your attention sooner or later) and you definitely didn’t have low standards.

This meant that you forever lived in a limbo of never being “good enough” or “pretty enough” but never being willing to settle. So where did that leave you?

Alone.

Alone until you found your fiance.

To be honest, it was rough at first. He was this bigshot investor that was only slightly younger than your father and for some reason, he’d taken an interest in you, his (used to be) intern.

At first, you ignored the attention, young and uncomfortable with the idea that an older man could find you desirable. In your field, you were used to all of the finance bros, who wanted you in the bedroom but never in public.

But slowly, as he managed to worm his way into your daily schedule, you found yourself warming up to him. He’d walk past your desk each day, sometimes leaving you a coffee with a little winking face drawn on the side, sometimes he would smooze as you took the elevator with him, but most of the time it was him just making small comments along the lines of “you take care of me so well,” or “I’m lucky to have you looking out for me” which slowly transitioned into “i love the way you take care of me” and “am I lucky enough to take you to dinner”

Before you knew it, five years had passed. And while you’d technically never defined your relationship in words, or moved in with each other, or even met each other's families, you still thought of yourselves as dating…. well……engaged now.

You looked down at the to-do list that sat on the cafe table. Most of it was fairly straightforward, arrange the flowers, get the caterer, cake-tasting, wine-tasting, the list went on.

The one bullet point on the list that definitely wasn’t straightforward was the last one.

Invite Matsukawa

Apparently, your beloved fiance had an estranged brother. A younger brother whom he hadn’t spoken to for the last 10 years.

An estranged brother that you were in charge of tracking down and inviting to your wedding.

What could possibly go wrong?

He was a fucking mortician.

That's what could go wrong.

Your fiance had given you a little bit of background on his brother, and from the sounds of it, he seemed to be a fairly normal person. But come on…. How many normal people were morticians?

But nevertheless, you had told your fiance that you would do it. You would do it so that he could reunite with his brother and restore their relationship. Would it be a little weird for you? Yes. But it seemed that recently you’d been kicked out of your comfort zone, and apparently weren’t allowed back in.

So you’d looked up the address to the funeral home Matsukawa worked at, and decided that your goal for the day was to somehow convince him to come to his brother’s wedding.

Now all you had to do was work up the nerve to go in and actually talk to him.

You glanced out of the cafe’s window at the funeral home.

It’s not like it was overwhelmingly off-putting. It looked crisp and clean, a great place to bring your recently lost loved one……. But that didn’t mean it didn’t still give you the heebie-jeebies.

You looked back down at your coffee. There was probably only a sip or two left, which meant that you could no longer put this off.

Hesitantly, you left the coffee shop, holding your almost empty coffee cup as a shield of sorts as you approached the front doors of the funeral home.

You opened the doors.

It was quiet.

As to be expected.

You walked up to the empty reception desk, inspecting it for some kind of bell or button to alert someone of your arrival, but much to your dismay there was no such thing.

You looked around you, there wasn’t much to see in the lobby area, an expensive-looking rug, a nice velvet-covered loveseat, and a couple of potted plants…. Other than that there really wasn’t-

“-Fucking christ!” you gasped, jumping at the sight of a man's disembodied head peering through an open cut out in the wall.

You clutched your chest, trying to recover as he simply watched you, not even bothering to move. All the man did was grin at you, having the audacity to chuckle at your display of fright.

“Shit…” you breathed, turning your back to the man while trying to regain the quickly diminishing confidence that you had, you know, the confidence that was barely there to begin with.

A couple of deep breaths later, you decided that you felt stable enough to face the mystery man again. Now that the initial surprise/fear had passed, only dread and a smidge of anger remained.

Like, who the fuck would do that?? For all they know, you were a prospecting customer who’d just lost a loved one and you were greeted with the harrowing sight of a man’s head in a window.

You turned around, not sure if you should demand an apology, or issue one, when you were greeted with the sight of perhaps the prettiest man you’d ever seen.

Yes, he was the same weird man that had literally just pretended to be a severed head, but hey… first impressions were rough.

You opened your mouth to speak, still unsure of what to say, but thankfully, he spoke first.

“Sorry about that, it’s never gone over well and yet I keep trying.”

Wow his voice was deep, but not deep like ‘trying to be deep’ or even like ‘just woke up deep’ it was just… deep.

It was nice.

You were engaged.

Why was that so hard to remember?

You let out a small laugh before clearing your throat.

“Well, it was… interesting, I’ll give you that.”

He gave you another lopsided grin, but said nothing, forcing you to try and remember why you walked into the building in the first place.

Fiance’s brother. Right.

“Anyways, I’m here today because I’m looking for Maksukawa, is he working today?”

“Is something wrong” he asked, a much more acceptable mask of professionalism slipping over his features. You shifted from heel to heel, wondering if you should really tell this man about your fiance’s private family life.

“Nope, just here to talk with him.” you settled on that. Surely you wouldn't be asked for more.

“How do you know him?”

Of fucking course you’d be asked for more. Because having things go your way is just too much to ask.

“Oh, I’m just his brother’s fiance.” you said, trying to keep your voice light and unworried.

But as soon as you said it, the man’s eyebrows shot up and his jaw (which was gorgeously sharp) became set.

And while that reaction was a little weird, and definitely raised a little suspicion, you decided to ignore it and press forward.

“You see, I’m here to invite him to the wedding on behalf of my fiance.” You took a step closer to the desk that the man had retreated behind as you said it, trying your best to keep your shoulders squared and the pep in your step.

“He’s not interested.” the man, who had been nothing if not good-natured up till now, turned away, affirming your suspicions.

“You’re Matsukawa aren’t you?”

He ignored you and instead turned to head back through a set of swinging doors behind him, leaving you slack jawed and speechless.

Your partner had warned you of his brother’s standoffishness, but when you’d asked about why they hadn’t talked in 10 years, you received no clear answer. But judging by the way Matsukawa just left you in the dust, something big must’ve happened.

Nevertheless, you weren’t one to step down from a fight, no matter how scared or uncomfortable you were, so you followed him through the back doors into a little room with lockers lining the wall.

“I’m right, right? You’re Matsukawa?”

His back was facing you as he closed the door to his locker, his shoulders were definitely tensed but not nearly as much as one would expect considering the fact you were definitely not allowed back here, a rule which you rudely defied.

“My friends call me Issei.”

“Okay Issei, I’m here to-”

He turned towards you, his eyes flicking over your body once, before cutting you off.

“I said my friends, not some kid who's marrying my bastard brother.”

Once again, your jaw dropped. What the fuck was it about these brothers making you at a complete loss for words?

“Excuse me?”

Seriously, did their mother not raise them properly?

Their mother. That’s why you were there. Their mother is dying and her dying wish was for her son to be married.

You didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing before you lost your nerve.

“Listen, I’m just here to invite you to the wedding. I’m not sure what went down between you and your brother, but I do know that he wants you at our wedding. Anyways, he’s family and family forgives each other, so please just take this.”

You held out the RSVP invitation to Issei, you set your jaw firmly and squared yourself in front of him, showing him that you wouldn’t tuck your tail and run.

He looked you up and down again. You tried not to focus on how his gaze made your stomach flip and your ears burn.

“How old are you?” He asked, his eyes landing on the invitation pinched between your prettily manicured fingers.

“Does it matter?”

Issei’s eyes traveled up your wrist to your arm, then shoulder, then neck, before finally landing on your face. He grinned at the look on your face, because while it was clear you were trying to keep a fire in your eyes, you were just about as intimidating as a puppy.

“It does.”

“Can I ask why?”

Issei took a step forward, narrowing the distance between the two of you until there was only a couple of inches.

“Because I know how old my brother is, and I wanna know why a girl who was in diapers when he was joining a frat is standing in front of me, saying she’s his fiance.”

Your eyes, which had been locked on his, standing your ground, flicked to the ground.

“So what is it, the money? The house? Did he accidentally knock you up? Let me guess, he’s your boss and you just wanted to stay his favorite, you didn’t even mean to get that drunk at the company party. Is that it? Or did you-”

Before you knew what was happening, you’d already reached your hand between the two of you and slapped Issei across the face.

For the first time since you’d met him, that stupid grin was gone, and in its place a look of surprise. You spoke before he could.

“Listen here,” you said in a low tone, trying to keep your voice from shaking due to the adrenaline flooding through your body,

“You don’t know me. You’ve never met me, never talked to me, and you sure as hell have never gotten close enough for me to disclose jack shit to you, much less how I met and got involved with your brother. I get that you guys don’t like each other, but that is no fucking reason to get pissy with me. In fact, how dare you talk about me like that? It doesn’t matter if your brother wronged you a thousand times over, you have no right to talk to me in that disgusting manner.”

You stopped to take a breath, closing your eyes so that you wouldn’t see Issei and chicken out of your speech.

“Now. I’m leaving, and I’m leaving you with the invitation to this stupid fucking wedding. You can come or not, I don’t care. Goodbye.”

Before he could respond you turned on your heel and fled back through the set of double doors, back into the safety of the main lobby. Once you were on the street again, you let yourself slow down, releasing the breath you’d been subconsciously holding.

You couldn’t believe that you’d done that, it was almost like you’d blacked out. You really couldn't even remember what you’d said. Oh god, hopefully you didn’t say anything too rash.

Even if Issei deserved it, he was your partner’s brother…..

….maybe you were too harsh.

You scolded yourself as you walked down the street, trying as best as you could not to look like a crazy person, muttering to yourself as you made your way back to your apartment.

The guilt and worry of what you’d said and how you’d behaved was eating at you. Did Issei deserve to be slapped? Yes! 100 fucking percent he deserved it.

But still….

If he hated his brother before you’d done that, he most definitely hated him even more now.

Maybe, you thought as you laid down to sleep, you could try and go by the funeral home tomorrow to smooth things over.

Maybe you could use the stress of the wedding as an excuse to why you’d slapped him, yeah…that was a good idea.

…or at least the best idea you had.

And while you tossed and turned with guilt over slapping your fiance's younger, very good-looking brother, Issei was in a similar boat.

Well… kind of.

He didn’t necessarily feel guilty over how he treated you. He was just being honest, there was no way in hell he’d attend his lousy brother’s wedding, that bastard could apologize a thousand times over for what he’d done and Issei still wouldn’t forgive him.

No, what he did feel guilty about though is the fact that he pretty much blew any chance he had of seeing you again.

If Issei was a better person he’d feel guilty about his feelings for you, fortunately he never claimed to be one.

He’d given up on sleeping hours ago, the only thing that closing his eyes got him was visions of you. The look on your face when you scolded him, the sting that your palm had left against his jaw.

And christ your body….

If Issei had believed in God, you were definitely her.

He could drown in you if you’d only let him.

So without any other way to soothe himself or fall asleep, he drank. A little too much if he’s being honest. So much that he didn’t even care when his neighbors slammed on his walls to tell him to turn his records down.

He preferred to sulk this way. That was what he was doing, sulking over a beautiful woman that he’d never see again, over a woman who was going to marry his brother, his enemy.

And as the night went on, the bottle of booze in his hand emptied further, until he nearly saw double as he worked on anything to distract himself from thoughts of you.

Perhaps when he said you were God he meant the opposite, God could never plague him like you were. You were a devil, a devil committed to his devil brother…. The thought made him feel a little better. Not much of course.

He eventually called into work, leaving some half-ass excuse on their answering machine as to why he wouldn’t be coming in that day, before dragging himself to bed. He was drunk enough to sleep, but not drunk enough to escape dreams of you.

The next morning, bright and early, you stood outside of the funeral home with two fresh coffees in hand and an optimistic smile on your face. Today was the day that you would convince Issei to come to the wedding if it was the last thing you did.

To be honest, you were completely ready to give up and tell your fiance that his brother had died some terrible death within the last 10 years, but as soon as you’d heard his voice over the phone, asking if you’d been able to convince Issei yet, you chickened out of it.

You didn’t know if you were just feeling extra sentimental or if it was your fiance whining about how now that his mother is dying, family is the most important thing, but you now stood on the sidewalk in front of Issei’s workplace with a renewed vigor and immovable stubbornness.

You walked into the building, scanning the lobby, making sure that Issei wasn’t pretending to be a floating head again.

You frowned at the sight of an empty lobby, walking slowly up to the desk as if you were expecting the gorgeous mortician to jump out at you at any moment.

“Hello?” you called out, trying to crane your neck to look through the small windows of the double set of doors that you’d been through yesterday.

“Hi there!” you heard a new voice come from a different direction.

When you turned your head, you were slightly disappointed to find an unfamiliar young woman, dressed in black, smiling as she walked behind the desk to help you.

“Hello,” you replied, trying to hide your disappointment with a small smile, “I’m looking for Matsukawa, is he here?”

“He actually called in sick today, I’m sorry.”

Your shoulders must’ve sagged a little because the woman looked at you curiously, her eyebrow raising.

“Can I ask why you’re asking for him?”

“Oh it’s nothing,” you sighed, “I’m just engaged to his brother and I’m supposed to convince him to come to the wedding. We got off on the wrong foot yesterday so I thought I’d swing by today and try again.”

The look of shock on the woman’s face was enough to make you straighten your back and hold your coffee a little closer to your body. She must’ve noticed your discomfort as she quickly apologized.

“Sorry, I just totally didn’t expect that to be the reason…. I feel really bad telling you this, but I don’t think you should waste any time on that. Issei hates his brother.”

So Issei’s coworker knows what happened but you don’t? Was your fiance trying to set you up for failure???

“Well, if you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”

A look came over the woman’s face, that look that says ‘I’m not supposed to be talking about this, but I absolutely LOVE talking about it’. She leaned over the counter, gesturing you to lean in closer.

“Ten years ago, Issei was engaged to this woman, beautiful girl, a real pretty lady, they’d met in school and decided to get married young so they could start having kids. So one day, Issei gets off work a little early, so he decides to surprise her at her place, and what does he find when he gets there? His brother, buck-naked in her bed.”

“No!” you gasped, horrified at the image of your fiance home-wrecking his brother.

“Yes! So Issei’s pissed right? Screaming and throwing shit everywhere, his fiance’s crying, the neighbors are yelling, and what does his brother do?”

The look of suspense on your face was prominent enough to make the woman behind the desk grin as she paused in dramatic effect.

“He tells Issei that it’s been going on for months and that they’re running off together.”

“What?” you scoff, leaning back away from the woman in awe.

You couldn’t believe what you’d heard. Is that really the kind of man you were about to marry?

“Worst part about it, is that since Issei’s so much younger than his brother, the girl wasn’t any older than 20 while Issei’s brother was nearly thirty six!”

“So what happened?” You asked, feeling slightly faint at the overwhelming amount of information you’d received.

“Nothing, Issei was heart broken, his brother ran off with his girl and there was nothing he could do about it. That’s why they haven't talked in 10 years. And from the sound of it, the whole family took the brother’s side so now Issei doesn't talk to them either.”

You wondered if you looked like a gaping fish at the moment as you grappled with yourself, trying to find words to say. You couldn't believe that your fiance could do something so heinous.

He stole the love of his brother’s life, and obviously it never went further than an affair because he’d never even mentioned his ex to you.

Of course, now that you thought about it, he didn’t mention much of anything to you.

The woman must’ve seen the turmoil on your face and taken pity on you because she reached under the desk and pulled a sticky pad and pen out and started jotting things down.

“Anyways, I’m just gonna give you his address, it’s not too far from here. Swing by if you're brave enough, but now that you know the history, you can’t blame him if he doesn’t wanna talk to you.”

You nodded and thanked her as she handed you the sticky note.

“Now that I know, the only thing I feel is guilty about how I treated him yesterday.” you looked up at the woman, offering a grateful smile “thank you for telling me.”

She waved you off as you began leaving the lobby, “Don’t mention it, I hope everything works out the way it should!”

With one last thank you, you left the funeral home and started off down the street towards Issei’s apartment. With the newfound knowledge of the brother’s history you now realized that asking Issei to come to the wedding was like asking him to reopen old wounds.

And hell, with what you just found out you weren’t sure you wanted to marry this guy anymore. You know what they say, once a cheater, always a cheater. Could you really trust that he hadn’t done the exact same to you in the last five years?

Anyways, the very least you could do now was apologize to Issei and hope that the two of you could treat this like water under the bridge.

So that’s where you’d gotten to where you were. Sitting at his kitchen table as you watched him nurse his hangover with the coffee you brought him and a plate of breakfast that you’d cooked for him.

You watched as he poked at the eggs with his fork.

“Sorry, I didn’t know how you liked them.” you apologized, your voice coming out much squeakier than indentinded. But based on the fact that you were sitting across from perhaps the most gorgeous man you’d ever met who still had bed head and was only sporting a loose fitting pair of black sweatpants, you’d say you were doing pretty good at keeping your voice calm.

“No, they’re good… thank you..” Issei muttered, keeping his eyes on his plate. He couldn’t look up at you right now.

The first thing he’d woken up to this morning was you knocking on his door, and normally that wouldn't have been so bad. In fact, he could think of few things better than the sight of a pretty girl waiting for him on his doorstep. The only reason he didn’t enjoy your early morning visit was because it gave him no time to take care of his raging morning wood, which was significantly worse than usual thanks to you being the star of his dreams the night before.

He glanced up from his plate, trying to sneak a glance at you as you concerned yourself with the view from his kitchen window.

You were even more stunning in the morning light, the sun outlining the soft curve of your chin as you smiled at the city's skyline.

He looked back down at his breakfast, not nearly as appetizing as the sight sitting across from him.

“Anyways,” you said, breaking the silence as you watched him near the end of his breakfast, clearing the plate of the last slice of toast. “I wanted to come by and apologize for how I acted yesterday, I was-”

Before you could even finish the apology, he held a hand up to stop you.

“Don’t even mention it, I was out of line.”

You frowned as he got up to put his plate in the sink behind him.

“Okay….” you said, unsure of how to approach the next topic, “well, I also wanted to talk to you about the wedding,”

As soon as the word ‘wedding’ came out of your mouth you saw his (very nicely built) back tense. So you rushed to finish the sentence as fast as you could to prevent him from completely shutting you out.

“But-more-importantly-I-wanted-to-apologize-for-what-your-brother-did-to-you…”

“What?”

You saw the tick in his jaw and the stern look on his face as he turned towards you. You couldn't help but shrink in on yourself a little, this was the first time you’d seen him as anything but aloof, and to say it was… intimidating… was an understatement.

Hot?.... Yes definitely… but also very intimidating.

“Why would you apologize for that?”

It was a fair question, especially considering that you were also starting to have the sneaking suspicion that you were a victim of infidelity as well. Just because you never caught it, doesn’t mean it never happened.

“I just-”

“-You know what,” he cut you off, holding a palm up to you, “why don’t you let me get cleaned up a little and then I can take you somewhere a little nicer to talk about this.”

Your eyes widened and you felt your face start to heat up at the idea of “going somewhere” to “talk” with this man.

You dreaded what he meant by ‘clean up’, the idea that he’d be showering with only a door or a room, at most, between you was making you ashamedly wet.

You could only pray that Issei didn’t notice the way you unconsciously squirmed in your seat.

And lucky for you, he didn’t. He was far too busy trying to figure out how to get himself to his bathroom without you noticing the sizable tent he could feel beginning to pitch. The only thing helping calm him down from being in the same room as you was the painful reminder that you were his brother’s fiance, along with the mention of what his brother had done to him 10 years ago.

“Okay. I’ll just wait here” you said, nodding as you focused your gaze on your lap, desperately trying to hide your look of embarrassment from Issei as he walked past you to his bedroom.

He closed the door with some kind of ‘make yourself at home’ comment, but once again, you were too preoccupied with your own arousal and ergo embarrassment to reply.

It was only when you’d calmed down a bit did you get up and explore the living room of his apartment. You were surprised to find it littered with not only human anatomy books and atlases (which was to be expected considering his career) but also with books filled with art, and even sketchbooks filled with what you assumed to be his own drawings.

In fact, now that you were looking closer, you could tell that Issei was something of an artist as well, the biggest hint being an easel and half-painted canvas in the corner of the room.

You couldn't help yourself, and went to inspect the work. When you got closer you could see the faint sketch lines on the canvas, and when you looked up from the painting to the window that it faced you saw the pieces of paper taped to the window, references for the painting.

You wanted to say that the painting of the woman was embarrassing. You wanted to say that the sketches of her nude body were scandalous, but you couldn't help but fixate on the beauty of Issei’s work.

The drawings made you feel warm inside, they made you feel seen.

If you squinted, the woman in the drawings almost looked like what you saw when you looked in the mirror. Of course you’d never seen anyone like yourself depicted in any art, so the feeling was definitely new but for some reason, you couldn't stop the warmth that started in your chest from traveling down to rest between your thighs.

And the more you looked at the drawings, the worse it got, as you noticed more sketches, some having the plus size woman drawn in different lewd poses, her curves almost highlighted due to the morning light coming through the paper.

You got so lost in the art that it almost felt like you were the woman in the drawings and that you could feel Issei watching you… memorizing your shape so that he could sketch you.

Your whole body was on fire as your fingers brushed against the papers on the window, tracing the figures outlines with one hand while gliding across your own outline with the other.

Normally you wouldn’t be caught dead acting like this, but it was like Issei’s work had you in a trance. The art mixed with the idea that there was a wet and very naked Issei less than 20 feet away from you had gone straight to your head, almost making you dizzy.

You didn’t know how long you’d been looking at the sketches, and you definitely hadn’t known that Issei had walked out of his bedroom to find you staring at his work a couple of minutes ago.

He knew that he should’ve at least tried to hide all of the shameless drawings of you, for god’s sake he’d only met you for 10 minutes yesterday. But you had haunted him, the only way he was able to sleep last night was after drawing you in all of the poses he longed to see you in.

So he stood silently in the doorway, watching as you traced his work, did you not realize it was you that he had drawn? Unless you were some sort of exhibitionist, you’d never be okay with some strange man you’d just met drawing you, much less drawing you as a nude model.

He let it go on for another minute or two, he wanted to let himself memorize your body again, he didn't know if he’d ever have another chance to see you and he’d be damned if he let his painting go unfinished. But even as he watched you, committing your shape to memory, he couldn’t help the nagging desire to touch you, he told himself that he wanted to feel you because it’d make his art better, he told himself there was no other motive.

He watched you finally move to the painting, watching you, he feared that if he let you continue you’d recognize yourself seeing as the painting held more color and detail.

“What do you think of it?” He asked, making you gasp as you jumped and whirled around to face him.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to snoop!” your eyes were wide and panicked, and yet he didn’t see any hint of recognition in them, hopefully meaning you still were unaware that you were the art’s model.

“Don’t apologize…. But please… I want to know what you think.”

You shyly turned back towards the canvas, not brave enough to compliment him to his face.

“It’s beautiful… you’re really good.” you breathed, the heat almost unbearable now that he was in the room.

“Only as good as my model.” he chuckled.

“Well she’s beautiful.” you complimented.

You were ashamed to admit the twinge of jealousy you felt towards the model. You had to remember that you were engaged…. Well at least for now….. in a week…. who knows?

“I think so too.” Issei mumbled from behind you, you could hear him moving but you still didn’t have the courage to turn back around.

You’d hoped that Issei couldn’t detect your arousal, but, of course, he could. What kind of artist would he be if he couldn’t observe? How else would he have looked at you close enough to paint you after just one meeting?

That said, Issei was more than pleased to know that you wanted him just as urgently as he needed you. He wondered if you’d lost sleep over it like him. Even at the risk of sounding naive or rash he wanted to ask you if you’d thought of him last night, as you walked home alone, as you slipped on your night clothes, as you drifted off to sleep.

He felt like a love-sick puppy, a feeling he hadn’t let himself feel ever since the love of his life walked out on him. Of course, with you standing in front of him who knows if she’s truly been his soulmate. If she had been his soulmate then why did you make him feel like this?

“Do you-” the words died on your tongue as you turned to find Issei directly behind you. The two of you were now close enough for him to see the way your breath caught in your chest.

You knew you should’ve stepped back, even risked knocking over the painting to get away, but it felt like your feet were superglued to the floor. You could hear Issei’s heart pounding in his chest as he looked down at you, staring into your eyes as you couldn’t help but stare back.

“Don’t you recognize her?” he whispered, his eyes darting down to your lips.

“I’m sorry?”

Your voice was barely audible, but at least it wasn’t shaking as Issei rested his hands on our shoulders and guided you to turn back towards the painting.

“Isn’t she familiar?”

His lips were right next to your right ear now, his breath warm as it tickled your jaw.

You stayed silent as you tried to focus on the artwork, somewhere deep inside, you knew exactly where this was going, but you had no power to stop it. You didn’t even think you wanted to.

“I don’t know” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt Issei’s palms travel down your sides to rest on your waist, his fingers digging into your skin ever so slightly.

“Look again.” he urged, placing his teeth over your pulse, scraping the skin as he started to massage your hips.

You forced your eyes open, your vision feeling unfocused as you tried to search for familiarity in the lines. It was only when Issei turned your body away from the painting, causing your eyes to drift to the full length mirror propped against a bookshelf, that you gasped in realization.

It was you.

And holy shit was that hot.

You felt Issei grin against your skin, that grin you’d seen him constantly sporting since he’d met you, and you couldn’t stop the quiet whine from leaving your chest.

You pressed yourself back into him, feeling him pressed against the curve of your ass, making him groan.

“Fuck…” he hissed, his hips jerked at the unexpected pressure, making you giggle in response.

He backed away from you, grinning to himself when you spun around, your lips downturned in disappointment.

“Come with me to bed.” He said, taking your hand in his.

You raised your eyebrow at him, a small smile coming over your face.

This morning was all the push you’d needed to break things off with his brother. You had definitely made up your mind to that. Plus…. even if Issei wasn’t looking for revenge against his brother… you were.

But still… that didn’t mean you didn’t want Issei to work for it.

“Hmm… why should I?” you teased, following his lead as he backed into his bedroom.

The grin never dropped from his face, if anything it got more confident. He knew he had you in the palm of your hand, but he also knew that you had him in the palm of yours.

“You really gonna make me beg for it sweetheart?” he asked, pulling you against him and switching your places. You bit your lip as you felt the bed pressing up against the backs of your legs.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down till his face was level with yours.

“You would look good on your knees.” you whispered, your lips brushing his.

You felt him twitch against your hip as he cursed under his breath, looking away from your eyes.

Issei knew he needed to pace himself, if you kept teasing him like that this would be over before it started and he definitely couldn’t have that happening.

“Wait, what’re you- hey!” you gasped as Issei pushed you back to where you were sitting on the edge of the bed. “What are you doing?” you asked as you cautiously watched him lower himself to his knees, his hands spreading your legs to let him kneel between your thighs.

“I thought you wanted me to beg…” he teased, laying his cheek against the inside of one of your spread thighs as he looked up at you.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Your brain was short wiring at the sight of the dark haired man kneeling between your legs, his hands were so big, his fingers gripping your calves, coaxing you to spread your legs further for him.

You said nothing as you tangled your fingers through his hair, pulling softly to force his gaze up to yours.

His face was red and his pupils blown out, the sight was so erotic you thought you’d cum on the spot. You didn’t know anyone could ever find you this attractive, but as he let out a quiet whine, staring at you through half-lidded eyes, you realized a scary thought.

The thought that this man might want you even more than you wanted him.

“please…” he mumbled, pressing his head into your hand, willing you to guide him where he so desperately wanted to be. “...wanna taste you…”

You felt like you’d taken a nine-iron to the chest. But god did you feel powerful.

You tightened your grip on his hair, as you felt him work off your pants, pulling your soaked panties off with them, biting his lip at the feeling of the damp spot in the center of them.

“You’re so pretty….” you sighed, letting him go to rake your fingers over his scalp, “You wanna eat me out?”

He nodded, his tongue wetting his lips as he practically drooled over the sight of your bare cunt.

He wanted to paint you like this, spread out for him like a fucking masterpiece. But that would have to wait.

He could feel his head weeping against the front of his sweatpants, he’d (thankfully) gone commando in hopes of being where he was now, unfortunately that meant the feeling of the fleece lining was unbearable as he tried to ignore it, focusing on your pleasure first.

Without another word, you laced your fingers back through his hair and pushed his head down between your legs, gasping as you felt his lips quickly attach to your clit, wrapping around it and sucking, making your thighs snap shut around his head.

“fuck….” you gasped, obviously not expecting that overwhelming intensity right out of the gate.

Issei just moaned into you, bucking his hips at the feeling of your thighs pressed against his ears, he ran his hands up your legs to your stomach, guiding you to lay down on your back before hiking your knees over his shoulders.

And despite your position above him, you were completely powerless to his touch, leaning when he told you to, hesitantly opening your legs back up to allow him greater access.

When Issei felt your thighs loosen around his head he nearly cried, but he would have your legs wrapped around his head again, for now he needed to bring you to orgasm as fast as possible.

He pushed you further back onto the bed, helping you lay on your back as he repositioned himself between your legs, his hips pressing his hardened cock into the bedsheets.

His lips pressed to the insides of your thighs, sucking bruises into the skin as your fingers grasped at the sheets behind you.

“You’re so pretty” he muttered into your skin, looking up at you in awe as your chest heaved.

You doubt that you looked any kind of attractive right now, and yet Issei stared up at you like a sinner to a priestess.

“Please…” you gasped, your back arching away from the bed.

“Shhhh… I know…” he whispered, his mouth traveling back to your core, his tongue dipping between your folds, making you practically cry for more.

Issei’s brows were knit together, all of his being focused on not cumming in his pants from your taste. He wanted more…. he needed more.

“please…” he whimpered “...can I use my fingers?”

“N-mhm- yes..yes-please….” you gasped, crying out because as soon as you said it two of his fingers bullied their way into your pussy.

You cried from the burn of it, which melted into moans as his lips soothed your clit while his fingers curled inside of you.

It was gentle at first, he settled on warming you up to his fingers, gently pulling and pushing them in and out of you, kissing your clit with each plea or whine.

But as soon as he felt you relax, it started. He began with just sissoring his fingers inside of you, wanting to stretch you out for his cock before you came.

But as soon as you whimpered the words “..’m close Issei..” he abandoned all patience, pressing his fingers into your g-spot as he scraped his teeth against your clit, making you cry out.

You tried to close your legs around his head again, but he caught one of your thighs with his free hand and pressed it back down against the bed, forcing you to stay open for him.

You tossed your head against the sheets, whining how good it was as Issei buried his fingers into you again and again, pushing at your g-spot until you felt you high coming towards you like a freight train.

“Fuck…-gonna cum…Issei, ‘m gonna cum…”

“Shit..” Issei moaned against your clit, making you jerk against his face, your stomach clenching at the vibrations it sends through your body.

“come on, Sweetheart…. I want you to cum from my fingers…..please…”

Issei leaned back to watch your face as you came, feeling his cock twitch desperately in his pants at the sight of you gasping for air as your legs twitched beside his head.

You couldn’t form a single thought as you felt the wave of your orgasm wash over you, making your mind fuzzy as tears threatened to fall down your face.

Issei worked you through your orgasm, whispering praise against your thighs as he pressed his thumbs into your hips, massaging his fingers into the curve of your ass.

Eventually he worked his way back up your body until his chest covered yours and his hips ground against your thigh, reminding you that this was very much, not over.

Issei could look at you forever. If he thought you were beautiful before, you were absolutely breathtaking now, basking in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

God he needed you. He was convinced he’d need you for the rest of his life.

Still breathless from your high, you hooked a hand around the back of Issei’s neck and pulled him towards you, catching his lips in yours.

He moaned as your fingers pressed into his nape, encouraging him to deepen the kiss, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. He could feel his brain getting fuzzier by the second, he wanted to cum.

bad.

And you could tell with the way he tried to angle his hips away from you, trying to create the least amount of friction against himself as possible.

It was almost cute in a way, it’d been a while since someone needed you this badly, like a hormonal teenager. The only reason it wasn’t cute was because you needed him just as badly. You were ready for him now, your core twitching at the thought of it.

Before Issei knew what had happened, you flipped the two of you around, pinning him to the mattress as your ass rested dangerously snug against his clothed cock.

“Wai-” he started but you cut him off, pressing one of your perfectly manicured nails to his lips.

“It's my turn to have fun.” you said, offering a playful wink before crawling back down the bed to come face to face with his erection.

You could tell that it was painful by now, the only thing preventing it from standing to its full potential was his sweatpants.

Issei thanked god they were black, he’d leaked so much pre by now it probably looked like he already lost it.

Not that you would’ve minded, in fact you were face to face with his tent wishing the pants were gray for that exact reason.

You decided not to be cruel and pulled his pants down, trying (and failing) to hide your surprise when he finally sprang free.

“Fuck…” Issei gasped above you, his fingers gripping his bedsheets, trying not to cum from the look in your eyes.

“You’re so pretty Issei…” you swooned, he winced as your fingers wrapped around him, making you giggle. “Such a pretty boy…” you gave an experimental tug, biting your lip when his hips jumped off of the bed and a whimper slipped out of him.

“Do you want me to help you feel good, pretty?”

Issei could feel his face burn in humiliation as he nodded feverishly, he couldn’t help it, he’d do whatever you told him to no matter how embarrassing, for you, he’d do it.

You moaned as you took him into your mouth, your hand using his precum to stroke what couldn’t fit.

“Fuck…” Issei whined, his hips twitching out of his control with the way you worked him.

He felt like he couldn't breathe, and you only made it worse as you came off of him, only to turn your focus downwards, wrapping your tongue around his balls, taking them into your mouth.

“Shit… wai-fuck…”

You went back to his head, swiping your tongue across the slit, flicking your wrist as you stroked him closer to his high. You knew that he was close by the way his knuckles were white, gripping the sheets as he gasped and panted above you, begging you to slow down.

He really did look so pretty like this, biting his bottom lip while he tried not to cum too soon. It suited him much better than that stupid fucking smirk he always had on.

“Come on Issei…” you coaxed, your hand quickening its pace as his breathing grew even more ragged, “show me how good you feel…”

Issei made the mistake of peering down at your face, you were staring at him through your lashes, biting your lip as you grinned. That’s what made him lose it, the sight of you making him grunt and shake as he released, whimpering as you made a show of catching it on your tongue.

“What a good boy…” you praised, licking up anything that managed to land on his pelvis, enjoying the feeling of his hips shaking beneath your taste buds.

“It’s too bad though…” you said, sticking your bottom lip out in a fake pout as you sat back on your knees watching as Issei’s head raised off the bed to look at you, “‘cause I’m not tired yet.”

You giggled as Issei’s head dropped back down with a groan, he obviously knew where this was going.

You crawled back over him, positioning your hips over his, stroking him, trying to get him hard again.

“Wait” he pleaded, 2 minutes, that’s all he needed and then he could do it again, he just needed two minutes.

You decided to be nice and settled on just grinding against him.

“you’re no fun.” you mumbled, leaning down to leave your own bite marks, something you didn’t doubt he’d done to you already.

You settled on his chest, admiring how soft his skin was, you bit into it, surprised at how hard the muscle was below.

Yes, you knew that he was really fucking built when you saw him in just his sweatpants, you even knew he was built when you saw just how broad his shoulders looked in his nicely tailored work suit, but you were surprised just how strong he felt under your fingertips.

Maybe it was the fact he’d let you take control this whole time that made you for some reason think that he couldn't pin you down if he wanted to, but now you knew, he definitely could.

And god was that a tempting image.

Knowing that he could easily overpower you, could easily force your face into the mattress as he fucked you, but chose to listen to you so nicely was so fucking attractive.

You felt yourself tighten around nothing, keening as your clit caught against the head of his cock when you rubbed yourself against him.

“So good…” you moaned, resting your forehead against his chest, grinding down on his cock.

Issei decided he’d had enough, he was ready whether his dick was hard again or not. Which it was. How could it not be with you on top of him? He could feel your arousal, it made it almost impossible not to just slip his cock into you.

“Please….” he breathed, “...fuck please….”

You giggled from your place above him, leaning back to where you sat against his hips, comfortably sat with him wedged between your thighs.

“Come on Issei….how should I know what you want me to do?….”

Issei just whined beneath you, his body practically shaking under your touch. You brought your hands up to rest on his chest rather than the sheets on either side of his head.

“Please…..” he gasped again, his toes curling into the sheets when your prettily manicured nails circled his nipples.

You just grinned, dragging your hands up his neck, circling to his nape to hold his head, forcing him to look into your half-lidded eyes.

You leaned down towards him, grinding down onto him as you placed pecks on his face, starting from the edge of his lips… then to the arch of his nose… and finally up across his jaw, landing next to his left ear.

“What honey….” you cooed, loving the way you could feel his chest heaving beneath yours as you pressed your tits to him, as if his brain had melted already.

Issei whined, pressing his eyes closed, trying not to cum like a fucking loser before he even had the chance to be inside of you.

“.... you want some pussy, Baby?...”

“Oh fuck…. Please-please-please…. want it so bad…” Issei whimpered, his fingers leaving the sheets to grip the fat of your hips, undoubtedly hard enough to bruise.

You would’ve laughed if it wasn’t so pathetic.

Without another word, you reached under you, and all in one go grabbed his cock and slid onto it, gasping as you took it to the hilt on the first try.

Issei’s vision went white as he felt you press yourself down onto him, the pulse of your cunt around him making him dizzy, making him whip his head away, trying to hide from you as he let out a choked sob, along with stuttered, breathy ‘thank you’s.

“Fuck baby…” you groaned, reaching back up to cradle issei’s face with your hands, “.....feel you in my fucking throat….”

“..yeah?..... can I move…fuck-please…” Issei pleaded, making you wince with the force that his nails were digging into your hips.

“Fuck…” you dropped your head down, pressing your face into the nook of his neck, trying to stay strong, trying to stay in control as you felt your brain going fuzzy and your tummy turn to jelly. “...yes… please fuck me-ahh-”

You weren’t even able to finish the sentence before Issei’s hips started snapping into you from underneath, the force of his thrusts bouncing you against his chest. You moaned, feeling the air getting repeatedly knocked out of your lungs.

“Shit- slow-slow down Issei…” you winced out, the feeling of him slamming into you so fast was too much too early. If he kept going like this you’d both be done in no time.

“not so much baby…” you said again, trying to catch Issei’s attention after failing the first time, but unfortunately for you he was long gone, the only thing on his mind was pounding into you until you came all over his cock.

Issei couldn’t even hear you as you begged once more for him to slow down, he coudln’t hear anything over the sounds of his own moans and grunts paired with his hard breaths and of course the wet sounds of your cunt as he fucked into you like a fucking rabbit in rut.

He swore to god that there was nothing better than this, than the sound of you moaning above him as he drilled into you, his hands gripping the swell of your ass as you bounced on his cock.

It wasn’t long before you gave up on trying to take it slow, releasing yourself to the pleasure of Issei’s cock pushing at your walls while you cried into his neck, whimpering encouragement into his skin, trying your best to meet his thrusts.

“Oh my goddd….” you gasped after a particularly hard thrust, feeling his tip ram against your cervix when he adjusted you on top of him, bringing his heels up to dig into the mattress to allow him to fuck you even harder.

Your chest was no longer resting against his as the new angle forced you to lean back, barely giving you time to bring your arms behind you to support yourself as he used you.

Issei almost cried at the new position, not only because now he could push into you faster and harder, but because now with every thrust he could watch the way your tits bounced and your eyes rolled back into your head.

He could feel the itch of his orgasm starting in his gut, making him panic at the thought of this ending, at the thought of you getting up and walking out of his life after he scares you away with his intensity. Incidentally, the panic is also what allowed him to finally tune back into his surroundings, tune back into anything other than the feeling of your cunt squeezing him.

“Isseiiiii…” he heard you beg, your voice further ripping him out of his trance, he stilled inside of you, despite every fiber of his being saying not to.

It was only when he stopped that he noticed the way your arms were shaking under you, threatening to give out.

“Fuck…” he said, scrambing to sit up further on the bed, wrapping his arms around your torso to pull you into him, allowing your arms to take a much needed break as he pulled your weight properly into his lap. “I’m sorry…” he whispered against your shoulder, “fuck ‘m sorry…. you just feel so good…”

He let you catch your breath, whispering apologies as he sucked more marks into your skin, his hips grinding his pelvis against your clit, making you gasp and keen as his tip rubbed against your g-spot inside of you.

This was almost worse than when he was moving, yeah it felt good, fuck it felt so good that you could barely remember your name, much less the reason you’d wanted him to slow down, but if he continued like this you knew you’d finish for a second time, and while you really wanted to finish, you wanted him to finish inside of you first.

“Issei…” you moaned, leaning away from him to look into his eyes, your cunt tightening around him at the sight of his blown out pupils and red cheeks, making him whine. “Issei let me lay down Baby…”

He nodded aimlessly, his eyes focused only on your tits as you slid off of him, laying down beside him, hoping he’d take the hint to climb over you and continue.

Thankfully he did, or at least got half of the hint. He climbed over you, his forearms framing your face as he resumed grinding himself against you, his cock slick with your arousal as it continued gliding between the folds of your pussy, the tip catching your clit with every stroke, making you both shake against each other.

“...ngh- please baby….” Issei whined against your neck, “...please lemme fuck….”

Your head was thrown back against the sheets, as you moaned out for him, wrapping your arms down and around him, raking your nails against his lower back, making him shiver and whine against you.

“Go ahead baby…” you urged, spreading your legs further for him, “...make me cum”

That was all Issei needed to resume the godless pace he’d set earlier, lining himself up with your hole before hammering you further into the mattress.

You gasped below him, once again feeling him deep enough to wonder if he’d somehow broken your cervix with the power behind his thrusts.

He was drunk on you, whining a repetitive ‘yes, yes, yes’ into your skin before you decidedly to shut him up, gripping his hair and guiding his mouth to one of your nipples.

You both moaned as he latched on, sucking hard enough to make your walls squeeze, practically choking his dick as he continued humping into you like a love-sick puppy. You could feel him twitching inside of you, telling you that he was also close.

“Fuck issei…” you begged, pressing his face closer to your chest, smothering him with your tits as he moaned and jerked into you.

At this point your couldn’t tell who was fucking who, with the way your hips were arching off of the mattress to meet his thrusts, making you both cry as his cock dragged against your insides perfectly.

“Fuck Issei, ‘m close…” you breathed, intentionally squeezing his cock, trying to get him to cum before you fell off that cliff.

He pulled himself off of your chest just long enough to whimper “fuck-me too baby…” before sending whiny vibrations back through your body as he licked and bit at your tits.

“Yeah?” you asked, “you gonna ask me if you can cum inside?”

You felt him jerk inside of you at the thought.

“D’ you wanna cum inside Issei?” you whispered into his ear, biting your lip as he nodded against you, his mouth never leaving your nipple but a pathetic whine coming out of the back of his throat as his thrusts started getting messy and out of sync.

You could both tell that the other was close, and while Issei desperately wanted to make you cum first, you both knew that he wasn’t the one in charge right now.

Issei fucked into you with a continuous stream of ‘please’ coming from his lips between each pant, his thrusts were getting sharper and off beat as he felt his balls starting to pull up, getting ready to shoot his load into you. But he was determined, he wanted to feel you creaming around his cock before he finally filled you.

But of course, you had other plans, your fingers reaching down to dig your nails into his ass cheeks, helping him keep the tempo of his hips slamming into you steady. Your cunt felt so fucking good for him, warm and tight and twitching as your release threatened to rear its head.

It was a silent battle of who’d break first, until you took his earlobe between your teeth and whispered into his ear.

“come on issei, give me your cum…. Please…”

That finally pushed him over the edge, making him cry against your chest as he tried to pull himself out of you to finish, thinking that you were just saying to finish inside to make him cum.

But as soon as you felt him try to pull out, you dug your nails deeper into the skin of his ass, pressing his body flush to yours as you felt the ropes of his cum start filling you up.

“Fuck… oh my god….” Issei gasped against you, his legs jerking and abs flexing against you as he felt you milking him dry.

The feeling of his cum pushed you into your release as well, making you throw your head back, mouth open as a silent moan ripped through you, your back arching as you felt yourself gushing, your mixed release dripping down your ass and Issei’s balls, no doubt soaking into Issei’s sheets.

Even if Issei said something to you right then, you didn’t hear it, it was like you lost all ability to do anything other than stare at the ceiling, feeling the waves of your orgasm rocking through your body.

And Issei honestly wasn’t much better, laying against your chest as his hips twitched in the aftermath, making you whine below him as his softening tip rubbed his cum into your raw walls.

Eventually though, Issei came back to, pushing himself back up onto his forearms to make sure you were ok. He just found you staring at his ceiling, your mind still blank and fucked out.

He brought a hand up, brushing your hair out of your face, kissing from your lips to your forehead, whispering ‘thank you’s’ and ‘you did so good for me’s’ as he gently pulled out and left to get a cloth to clean you up.

Somewhere along the process of Issei dragging the warm cloth across your skin, you remembered to feel self conscious due to the light streaming in through the bedroom window’s blinds.

Issei just tsked at your attempts to cover yourself with your hands, did you miss the last hour? He was fucking obsessed with you. You were fucking perfect to him. Fuck, not just to him, you were just perfect.

“Stop.” he grumbled, pulling your hand away from your stomach and replacing it with his own, gripping the plush of it between his fingers, groaning when you whined and jerked against him.

You just rolled your eyes, obviously it was pointless to argue with the man who’d just sucked your tits and gave you probably the strongest orgasm of your life.

“Whatever” you groaned, trying to push him away from you so you could at least retreat to the bathroom. Another plan, which he gladly spoiled as he latched onto you even tighter, abandoning the washcloth and opting to kiss across your neck, trying to distract you from the thought of leaving.

“Come on….” he whispered into your neck, pulling your body against him, groaning at the softness of it, “come take a shower with me… and then….” he reached down to your tits, tracing their outline again with his fingers.

“And then let me draw you again…”

“What am I gonna tell your brother?” you asked, hoping to kill the mood to at least be able to slip from Issei’s grasp, enough to let you leave both of the brothers’ lives without doing more damage.

But Issei just laughed, still tightening his hold on you, forcing you to stay with him in bed.

“Just tell him the truth”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?” you said, side-eyeing Issei, watching him grin down at you with that familiar grin.

“That you’re gonna marry the better brother.”

-------------------------

*blows dust off of microphone*

hope you liked it bestie!!!!! tell me whatcha thought <3 <3<3<3

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x chubby reader #haikyuuxreader #haikyuu 18+#haikyuu x plus size reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #issei matsukawa x reader #issei smut #haikyuu!! smut #haikyu x reader #matsukawa smut

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haddonfieldwhore · 2 months ago

Text

sparring partner - hayden christensen

hayden christensen x younger!fem!reader

summary: hayden helps you with lightsaber training for the ahsoka series

warnings: age gap implied (no age specified tho), that might be it? not edited

word count: 1.5k

“i can’t do it,” you resigned, frustrated and tired from trying the same move over and over and not getting it.

“try it again,” the choreographer suggested unhelpfully, and you exhaled in annoyance, mostly at yourself, before getting back in position. you doubted that the thirtieth time could possibly go any differently than the previous twenty nine attempts, but tried the steps again anyway; no luck. it didn’t look this complicated when you had first been shown the fight choreo, but for some reason you just couldn’t nail down this specific spin. you and natasha, who played sabine, were supposed to meet in about half an hour to practice the fight together before shooting the scene next week, and you had shown up an hour early to try and get your moves down. you felt like you hadn’t made any progress at all.

“take 10 minutes, get some water,” the choreographer suggested, and you nodded, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand.

you sat down on the floor and leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes with a defeated sigh, your prop lightsaber clattering to the ground next to you. a shadow fell over your face and your brows furrowed slightly in confusion at the sudden darkness.

“hey, how’s it going?” a voice asked and you opened your eyes to see hayden standing in front of you.

“not so great,” you admitted. you hadn’t gotten the chance to work with hayden much yet while filming ahsoka, but anytime he stopped by the set to see how things were going, you enjoyed talking with him, and greatly appreciated any input or advice he offered. you had always admired him as an actor. hayden tried to convince himself that it was coincidence that every time he came by set you happened to be training or shooting that day.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, a look of concern on his face.

“i can’t get this one part of the choreography,” you admitted with a sigh, and he extended his hand to you, pulling you up off the floor once you slid your hand into his grip.

“show me?” he asked.

“i can try,” you laughed dryly as he got a prop saber of his own and stood next to you, giving you enough space to demonstrate the move as best you could.

you managed to get through the steps, although with the smoothness of a droid that had never been oiled and at about a quarter the speed they should be, but it was enough for hayden to get the general idea.

he slowly repeated the steps, with slightly more grace than you had, and then instructed for you to follow along with him. after a few tries and a great display of patience from hayden, you made it through the sequence and it almost looked good.

“how are you so good at this?” you asked, trying not to let the jealousy you were feeling come out in your voice, as without him you never would have got it.

“i’ve had more practice than you, that’s all,” he smiled reassuringly. “try it again on your own,” he instructed, taking a step back.

you fumbled through the movements again, and groaned in frustration when you made a mistake again.

“it’s hopeless,” you surrendered.

“come on, you can do it,” hayden encouraged, but you shook your head.

“i can’t, i’ve been trying forever and i just can’t get it.”

“i thought you wanted to do this,” he challenged, and you were slightly taken aback by his words.

“i do-“

“then prove it,” he said, his stance changing to invite a duel.

“hayden, im not going to fight you,” you sighed, though amused.

“why not?” he taunted. “afraid to lose?”

“you have years more training than i do-“ you stopped your complaint as you had to raise the saber in your hands to stop a swing from the man in front of you.

“now you’re just making excuses,” he taunted with a smile, and you retaliated with a swing of your own that he blocked with ease. you traded blows back and forth, the crew taking a step back as the two of you duelled back and forth. to no one’s surprise, hayden had the upper hand, and you ended up dropping your prop saber, and stared up to meet hayden’s eyes as he held the blade of his across your throat, hovering just centimetres below your chin as you both caught your breath.

“not bad,” he complimented, and you felt a sense of pride.

“thanks,” you smiled, your eyes flickering down to his lips, the corner on his mouth still upturned, and your gaze landed on his eyes again, which were still locked on you. your heart pounded against your ribcage as you put your hand on his that still held the saber at your throat, and lowered it gently before you took a step back.

“sorry,” he apologized, and you shook your head as if to say it wasn’t needed. “i knew you could do it though.”

“what do you mean?” you questioned, tilting your head to the side in confusion, which hayden couldn’t help but feel guilty for finding quite cute.

“the move, you did it,” he said like it was obvious. you realized that without even thinking, during the duel with hayden you had in fact successfully executed the move sequence that had been stumping you all morning.

“that was great,” the fight choreographer said as he approached the two of you. “it’s too bad you two don’t have a scene in the show, your chemistry is great.”

“thank you,” you both replied, and the choreographer offered you an extra five minutes to rest, since you had spent your previous break practicing.

“think you can do it again now?” hayden asked encouragingly, and you nodded, but you felt nervous. what if it was a fluke? you were annoyed enough at yourself as it was, and the added pressure of not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of hayden wasn’t helping.

however, you took a deep breath, and to your relief, managed the move with little difficulty this time.

“i did it?” you smiled, but it sounded more like a question, and hayden couldn’t help but laugh. “i did it!” you repeated, and couldn’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around his shoulders in a hug. you could feel his body tense in surprise, but he relaxed and circled his arms around your back, a chuckle shaking through his chest.

“i knew you could do it.”

“thank you,” you smiled. “i couldn’t have done it without you.”

you separated, though your eyes met again briefly, a thickness hanging in the air between you until you heard footsteps approaching. you turned to see natasha walking up to the two of you. neither of you had noticed how long she’d been watching the two of you duel, but she was impressed.

“nice moves,” she complimented, bumping your shoulder playfully. the two of you had grown close while working on the show, and you were looking forward to shooting this fight with her.

“thanks, i had a really good teacher,” you complimented, sending hayden a glance.

natasha noticed the way his smile lit up his eyes as he looked at you, and made a mental note to bug you about it later.

“i can’t take all the credit, it was all you,” he insisted, the two of you lost in your own world, and natasha wondered if she was suddenly invisible.

“well, you ready to practice?” she snapped you out of the trance you were in, and you nodded. “if you didn’t tire her out too much, that is,” she teased. hayden felt a blush rise to his cheeks, and he found himself grateful that you were looking the other way and therefore didn’t notice.

“let’s go,” you agreed, and she grabbed a prop saber and walked over to set down her bag.

“i’ll catch up with you later?” hayden asked, and you smiled.

“i’d like that,” you smiled, and he tapped your shoulder gently, his fingertips sending a shiver down your spine. “thanks again, hayden.”

“anytime.” with that he turned and walked over to some of the crew to talk with them as you met natasha on the other side of the room.

“was i interrupting something?” she teased, and your brow raised innocently.

“what do you mean?”

“you and hayden..?” she asked, like it was obvious. “you guys were having a moment when i walked up.”

“it wasn’t a ‘moment’, he was just helping me,” you disagreed, though you wouldn’t mind if it had been a ‘moment’, whatever that meant.

“hmm, okay,” natasha hummed teasingly, unconvinced. “is that why he’s still watching you?”

you casually glanced over to see that hayden was in fact looking your way, and he smiled when he met your gaze before continuing his conversation with the crew.

“that doesn’t mean anything-“

“if you say so. now come on, let’s practice.” she teased, and you rolled your eyes before she went on.

“loverboy will be there later.”

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

#hayden christensen fic #hayden christensen x reader #hayden #hayden christensen #real person fiction #star wars #star wars fic #ahsoka #sabine wren #ahsoka tano

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enbyenvy666 · 7 months ago

Note

I'll do a request how about todoroki and bakugou accidentally burning their partner while sparring? Figure it's how they apologize or make up for it. Partner isn't mad though.

hope you enjoy :)

CONTENT WARNINGS - gn reader, semi-graphic depictions of burns, comfort, mild mild mild angst, accurate first aid, no beta we die like men

w/c - .8k

Todoroki

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

It was part of your weekly routine, sparring with Shoto to hone your skills and his. It wasn’t odd to end up with a couple of bruises and scrapes, you were a pro hero and so was he, both with powerful quirks, it was an occupational hazard. There were never any serious injuries, no black eyes or anything that needed stitches.

Until one night when you tried to dodge his flaming fist and your exhausted body caused your knee to give way, falling against his arm. He reacted quickly, deactivating his quirk and helping you to the ground so you fell safely. Your shirt was singed, burning away to reveal the reddened skin underneath. You could only writhe, stuck between sucking in deep breaths and being unable to breathe out.

Shoto spat out apology after apology, wanting to hold you but afraid he would harm you again. But you reached out to him, gripping his arm as you pulled yourself upwards. Through gritted teeth, you asked him to help you to the bathroom so you could run room-temperature water over the burn. He quickly helped you to the bathroom, running the shower so you could sit in the water stream.

“I’m really sorry, love,” he whispered as he removed your shirt. The cool water over the burn eased the pain enough for you to smile softly, reaching out to cup his cheek, your thumb running over his scar.

“I’m not mad Sho, it was an accident,” you explained. “If anything I should blame myself for falling.”

“But that’s not your fault!” Shoto countered. With a grin, you leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Help me wrap this up and we’ll call it even.”

Bakugo

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Not everyone knew that when Katsuki used his quirk frequently in a short period of time his hands got really hot to produce more sweat. During his hero work, he wore gloves so it wasn’t usually a problem and thus he forgot about it. He was training with you on one of the few nights he had free. He was training his endurance in particular, testing the longevity of his quirk by firing off explosion after explosion in quick succession until he couldn’t produce any more nitroglycerin.

You held padded blocks over your hands, protecting yourself from his onslaught of explosions. They weren’t as strong as normal as Katsuki was more focused on his stamina for the time being, but even for a moment you felt like you were going to be knocked off your feet. But he finally stopped, shaking out his hands as he felt his muscles twist into cramps.

You slipped your hand out of the padding, holding it up to high-five as you usually did to congratulate him on a job well done. And as usual, when your palms met, he could pull you in for a kiss. But when his fingers wrapped around your hand, you let out a shriek, ripping your hand out of his grip. It took a moment, but the shape of his hand and fingers showed up on your hand in a bright red.

He cursed, wiping his hand on his pants as if that would cool them faster. They were still warm when he grabbed your good hand to drag you to the kitchen, running the sink and sticking your hand under it. He was quiet, brow knitted more than normal as he glared at the water flowing from the tap. Not a word was said as he retrieved the first aid kit, gently drying your hand with paper towels before rubbing aloe vera over the burn, carefully avoiding spots where blisters started to form.

You watched his eyes flickering, tense muscles in his face twitching as he fought with himself internally. He made sure to wrap the bandages loosely in case your hand swelled, but his ginger touches were juxtaposed by how he roughly put the first aid kit away, slamming the cupboard closed afterwards. He didn’t come to you when you reached out to him as if he was punishing himself by not allowing you to comfort him. So you went to him instead, fingers weaving through the soft, blonde hair at the back of his neck to pull him down until your forehead met his.

“It’s okay, I’m not angry,” you whispered. Katsuki shut his eyes, arms slinking around your waist as he allowed himself to bask in your relaxing touch. The back of your fingers on your injured hand lightly brushed across his jaw. He grasped your hand delicately, bringing the digits to his lips to kiss tenderly. Pressing your lips to his, he felt you pulling away after, and quickly wrapped his strong arms around you to pull you back in, his chin on your shoulder.

“Just a bit longer.”

#bnha x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #comfort #x gn reader

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emotionalmessss · 2 years ago

Text

Diabolical Dealings

A/N: first time writing Shigaraki, I tried my best. I probably neglected Dabi a little too much and made Shigaraki absolutely disgusting. This was wayyy longer than I intended. No beta read, non-canon plot (ish).

Synopsis: reader is a police officer and stumbles into something she shouldn't have. Dabi x Shigaraki x Reader

Warnings: where do I even start lol. Heavy non-con, humiliation, implied murder, kinda violence/blood, shigaraki is gross (sorry), implied kidnapping, yandere (kinda?), spit, forced orgasm, oral, threesome. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Word count: 10.2K

A gust of wind whistled across your face, making your eyes flutter shut as dirt and stray newspapers skidded along the sidewalk. Despite the frigid air that enveloped your body within seconds - you were boiling hot. Your skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat, dripping over your furrowed brow and down to the pavement. It was shortly after twelve in the morning and you had just begun your nightly rounds of your assigned area. It was cold and dark. Your path is barely illuminated by the flickering street lights and LED store signs. It was only enough to see a couple yards in front of you, everything else hidden by the eerie shadows of darkness.

There were hundreds of other things you’d rather be doing right now; staying home with a microwavable meal on your lap while you watched your favorite show was one of them. Being called in and roaming the streets was last on your list of things to do on a Friday night.

Your phone rang an hour ago while you were occupying your time being curled up on the couch, with a hot bowl of curry beside you. You had just begun to settle down, only to get interrupted.

You knew you had to answer when you saw the Chief’s caller ID reflect onto your gloomy face.

Begrudgingly, you answered. His voice was stressed when he asked if you could come in for the night, explaining that there had been a few more attacks than usual tonight, and that the Heroes needed the extra hands to apprehend the villains they defeated.

Reluctantly, you agreed. You weren’t a fan of working nights and opted for working days to lessen the hassle of transporting villains back to headquarters, where they would be dealt with before they were shipped off to Tarturus. It was a relatively easy job during the day, but the night only amplified the difficulty. With limited civilians and heroes, you had to be extra cautious.

If it wasn’t your deep admiration and dedication to the job - you would’ve said no. But alas, here you were, fulfilling your duties in the dead of night.

“How are you holding up, (last name)?” A muffled voice filtered through your radio, startling you slightly as you reached to unclip it from your belt.

You backed up towards a brick wall, casting a few glances around before you answered your partner. “I’m fine. Doing one final sweep before I head over to Endeavor and Jeanist.” You radioed back. “Are you alright?”

“Relax, (last name). You’re doing great.” You thought the shake in your voice was hidden by your false sense of confidence, but your partner saw straight through the mask. “I’m catching up with Gum soon. Almost finished my rounds too.”

You sighed, closing your eyes and wiping the sweat from your forehead. You were too tired for this shit. You wanted to meet up with Endeavor and Jeanist, sooner rather than later. They were Pros and had quirks, unlike yourself. Better yet, you just wanted to finish the assignment and retreat back to the safety of your apartment.

“(last name)? Are you there?” He asked, your shaky hands clinging to the small device as your brain kicked back in to register his words.

“Sorry, I’m here.” You swallowed. “That’s good. We’ll meet up later? Maybe grab a coffee after the shift change?” You perked up, knowing how desperate your body was for some liquid fuel right about now.

“You bet your fucking ass we will. Radio me if you need anything. I’ll be around.” He buzzed out, leaving nothing but the sound of static sizzling in the air.

You clipped your radio back to your belt, still resting against the bricks to give your tired feet a chance to recuperate. You’re doing great. You’re doing great. You’re going to be fine. Everything is okay. You repeated the reassurances in your mind, forcing yourself to calm down.

You pushed yourself up, brushing out the crinkles that formed in your uniform and started to press on. The sound of your footsteps echoed as you walked along the pavement, your head turning to give quick glances down the alleyways and side streets. Nothing out of the ordinary caught your attention, which seemed strange considering the Chief explicitly said tonight was unusually active.

You chalked it up to the increased presence of the heroes, knowing that most small-time villains would avoid these areas because of them. They never lingered in one place for too long. The fear of catching the attention of a Pro and getting apprehended usually deterred them. Granted, it wasn’t out of ordinary for a smaller villain to test their luck and linger about anyways. They usually opted for petty crimes like vandalism and theft, which would make for quick escapes if needed. There was no shortage of those types, unfortunately.

Despite this, you noticed there wasn’t much of a disturbance tonight. You certainly weren’t complaining, but the anxiety continued to gnaw in the back of your head. You were specifically on edge since there was so little happening in your area. That could mean one or two things; the heroes scared all of them away, or that there was a bigger threat lurking about.

Villains were similar in their enjoyment of public disturbance, wreaking havoc, and causing panics. But not all Villains were the same. The ones that committed thought-out malicious crimes usually deterred the pettier Villains. There’s always bigger fish in the ocean.

But what would you know? You weren’t an expert, but you had picked up on a few things from your years in the field. Your skilled understanding of villains kept you alive, but you weren’t going to gamble with it.

You’re doing great. You’re doing great. You repeated, changing the subject in your mind to something a little more pragmatic. You weren’t about to ruin your streak of luck with your panicked thoughts. You continued on, looking forward to the coffee stop you promised your partner. You hoped that when you met up with Endeavor and Jeanist, that they’d just send you off home, but those chances were slim.

You’re doing great. You’re doing great. You hummed to yourself as you rounded a corner, poking your head out to give a quick check.

“I’m not wasting my time on these pieces of trash. They make for better kindling than recruits.” You heard a deep voice rasp from afar. The sound came from afar and echoed off the tall brick walls, which made it even more difficult to distinguish.

A civilian? You thought, furrowing your brows. Maybe? But why would they be wandering in an alley at this time of night? They didn’t sound too friendly either. You gripped onto the edge of the wall, tilting your head in the direction of the barely audible voice.

“Can’t be surprised, this world is rotting from the inside and it makes me sick.” The second voice was higher pitched and much more strained than the first.

Your subconscious must have realized that they were a threat before your mind could, because you felt a tingle run down your spine and goosebumps crawl up your neck. Definitely not friendly.

You could hear the first man scoff and what sounded like footsteps, but nothing else. It appeared that they were retreating deeper into the alley to continue their conversation. You weren’t too keen on the idea of finding out where they were going - or what they were doing. Deciding that it was better to not push your luck, you backed away from the entrance and reached for your radio.

You weren’t a detective, and you weren’t about to start acting like one just because you were curious. You needed to radio your partner and inform him immediately on what you stumbled upon, even if you weren’t sure what you found. They could just be some lowly villains, but you had a protocol to follow.

Moving further away from the opening and deeming yourself to be at a safe distance, you pulled out your radio.

“Sam?” You whispered, bringing the device up with shaky fingers. “Are you there?”

There was a hiss of static in response and you slapped your palm over the speaker.

“Sam?” You asked again, your voice sounding a little more desperate as you waited for a response. It couldn’t be helped, but you were beginning to feel a little anxious. It wasn’t like him to leave you hanging like this, especially for a night like this. He made it a habit to always pick up when you called.

There was an off chance that he was caught up in dealing with something, but you wanted nothing more than to hear him say anything. You rested your forehead on the tips of your fingers, letting out a shaky breath. Your mind wanted to be rational with the thoughts, but you couldn’t help the overwhelming sense of worry at his silence.

Swallowing hard, you decided this was something you were going to have to deal with later. It would be better off to ignore the rest of your sweep and just meet back up later. “If you can hear this, I’m making my way back over to everyone. There w-”

A sudden burst of blue flame erupted from the alley beside you, catching you off guard and forcing a scream out of your throat. Your radio slipped from your fingers and crashed onto the pavement, cracking from the blow. You narrowly dodged the attack - your legs reacting before your mind could even fully process the situation.You hit the ground hard but corrected yourself by rolling onto your knees and into a crouching stance. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest as it started to pump faster at the wall of fire next to you. If you were a few seconds slower, then your entire side would have been fried.

The muscles in your chest grew tight with each breath, forcing you into a state of hyperventilation. Move. Now! Your nerves ignited with a fury of terror and forced you out of your frozen state. You scrambled to your feet in less than a second and bolted down the sidewalk without a second thought. Heroes. Get to the heroes. You no longer cared about how loud your footsteps were, since whoever attacked you knew exactly where you had been. You were positive that if they wanted to kill you, they would’ve. They wanted you to run, and you were going to do just that.

If it weren’t for the fear, you surely would have collapsed. You never ran faster in your life till now and you didn’t stop, even when your lungs started to burn and ache. You had to keep going. That fire quirk was a long ranged attack, which was bad as is. You didn’t want to waste time dwelling on catching your breath.

The muscles in your legs strained as you bolted down the sidewalk, pumping them as fast as they would allow. Your breathing was uneven, borderline hyperventilating due to your climbing fear. The adrenaline was enough to keep you going, passing by several side streets and alleys as you tried to put some distance between yourself and your assailant.

You wiped your eyes, which were stinging with sweat and momentarily blinding you.

“Where ya’ going in such a rush, doll?” The voice sounded bored, uninterested really.

You skidded to a stop, feet sliding against the pavement in attempts to slow yourself. Your gaze moved up to follow where the sound was coming from, noticing a man resting lazily against an alleyway entrance. Your eyes widened and your lips parted to let out a surprised puff of air. You were not expecting the man to catch up to you so quickly, let alone be in front of you. This certainly took you by surprise and you felt yourself take a precautionary step backwards.

He held out a singular finger with a blue flame hovering at the tip of it, flicking his eyes back and forth between you and the subtle glow. You could barely make out his features, only a hint of light being emitted from his index. You did, however, notice the textured skin that was stapled together with the living skin. It couldn’t be. You thought as another wave of panic rushed over you.

He must have noticed your realization because you saw him smirk wildly before extinguishing the flame in his fist.

Engulfed in darkness, you turned and sprinted away. Your body once again acted on impulse as you ducked into the alley beside you. No. You weren’t going to die. You thought. This wasn’t going to be your end. You promised your partner that you would have coffee together. You promised to visit your parents more. You still had your whole life ahead of you. You weren’t going to die .

With as much speed as your body could handle, you ran deeper into the dark unknown. You knew that you had to get back to the Pros, but whether or not you’d be able to was inconclusive. Your main focus was escaping, but it seemed easier said than done. Nonetheless, you carried on, jumping over stray bags of garbage and debris.

The sound of your thumping footsteps were loud, but your heart hammering against your rib cage was even louder. The organ pumped viciously to fuel your aching limbs with blood, even reaching up to thud in your ear canal. It was only when your eyes landed on a second shadow emerging from the darkness that you spun back around. No. This wasn’t happening. Your feet slid out from under you at the sudden movement, but you quickly corrected yourself, spinning on your heels and darting back towards the mouth of the alley. You ran blindly, in hopes of getting away from both assailants.

You glanced back, noting the shadow stalking after you. No. He wasn’t in a rush. He was taking his time chasing you. His pace was slow and intimidating, purposely drawing out every ounce of fear that he could produce from you. It was only then when you realized your mistake. Your attention returned to the freedom which was illuminated by the flickering street lights. You were just shy of reaching it, maybe a few meters or so. You can do this. The dim light faded as a large figure stepped in front of it, blocking the exit and causing you to gasp. Fuck! Your body was moving fast - too fast for you to stop yourself in time.

The man made no sound as you collided head on with his body, dull pain shot up your chest, making you yell out in surprise. Instinctively, you tried to pull away, fear fuelling your body into clawing and fighting back. His arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you closer, holding you still against him. His other hand grabbed a hold of your flailing wrist, keeping it planted against his chest in some sort of stance that could only be compared to two lovers embracing.

“Let go of me!” You whined, only to feel his grip tighten.

You looked up at him with widened eyes, finally getting a good view of him. You really wished you hadn’t. Your eyes scanned over his face, noting all the scar tissue he had beneath his eyes and along his jawline. The damaged skin was stapled together with the healthy parts, creating some sort of ugly patchwork job. It was also the first time you had been this close to him, and you never realized just how warm he actually was. He heated your skin up like a furnace, warmth seeping out of his clothes and into yours.

Dabi. You heard about him, or rather, read. His pictures were plastered all over the newspapers in Japan.

One side of his lips curled upwards as he looked down his nose at you. You couldn’t tell if he was smirking or snarling at you, but you didn’t really care. You began writhing in his grasp. You kicked at his shins and punched his chest with your free hand, attempting to twist out of his hold.

He didn’t even flinch at your attacks, his only reaction was to laugh at you. His chest rumbled as he kept you pinned, sending a wave of nausea up to your throat. Your face twisted up in anguish, gasping as you placed a hand onto his chest to shove him off. He was hot. So hot .

“Let go of me!” You repeated again.

Seeing how your punches weren’t doing much - you opted for crying out and raking your nails down his chest, catching and pulling on his staples. This time, he let out a low hiss and let go of your waist, moving to grab your other wrist to stop your assault.

“Aren’t you a little treat.” He rasped. His eyes narrowed down to yours, turquoise orbs watching as you tried to take a step back, so you were no longer touching him. He didn’t seem to care for your distaste, knowing that there wasn’t anything for you to do.

You gave him a frightened look, brows pulling together as you looked up at him. You had seen him in the newspapers before, but he was even more terrifying up close. His staples reflected in the moonlight, and his eyes were practically glowing. While he was looking at you with a lazy expression - you could see hints of something you couldn’t quite place. Excitement? Boredom? There wasn’t much time for you to contemplate your next moves, because he was already spinning you around. His chest pressed into your back, while your arms were twisted across your torso, effectively pinning you.

It took you a couple seconds to stabilize yourself, blinking rapidly as you tried to adjust your swaying vision. The fear crawled up your esophagus, threatening to drown you as you became overwhelmed with terror. Calm. Calm. You repeated in your head. Slipping into a panic attack would do little good in your situation, but managing your nervous system was always a challenging task.

“Relax, doll, I got you.” Dabi’s words provided you no comfort - instead, adding fuel to your hysterics.

Your attention snapped back to the end of the alley when you heard a second set of footsteps approaching. Dabi and your fear kept you facing forward as the second figure sauntered towards you. Pale blue shaggy hair was the first thing you noticed, along with the vibrant red shoes that stuck out like a sore thumb in the darkness. You couldn’t really see his eyes, which were blocked by his mop of hair, but you knew that he was staring right at you. His steps reverberated around you - each syllable striking more fear in your heart. It felt like you were counting down the moments to your demise, unable to stop the shiver rolling down your spine. Instinctively, you inched backwards, a pitiful attempt of escape that only drew you closer into Dabi. Your back pressed into his chest, so close that you could feel every grove and staple on him.

The man in front continued honing in on the two of you with precision and intent. Granted, you would have fought sooner if you weren’t so trapped in a daze. However, as the figure became clearer in your line of sight - your eyes settled upon his arms, which were covered by hands that were severed at the wrist. Shigaraki. Reality came crashing down on your head like a ton of bricks. Your nerves coming back with a vengeance - lighting up with such a ferocious drive that you bucked back into Dabi.

“Looks like we’ve caught ourselves a little mouse.” Shigaraki snickered. He halted his movements, hands placed inside his pockets as he studied you. His eyes trailed up and down your figure, as if he were trying to gauge whether or not you were truly a threat. With your cowering expression and quivering form - it was obvious that you weren’t. You were a poor little cop, just trying to get through a shift, and had the back luck of stumbling into something you shouldn’t have. Stupid girl.

You knew the full extent of how much danger you were in right now, the terror creeping into your bloodstream and controlling every aspect of your being. No matter how many hours of briefing and training you had received, you couldn’t ever be prepared enough to handle this. Part of you prayed that your partner - no, the Heroes - would come to your rescue. You knew this wasn’t a situation you could handle on your own, it never was to begin with.

Beneath the mess of hair, his red eyes were almost glowing as looked down at you, mixing with both disinterest and disgust.You inched back slightly, as if the few centimeters would actually protect you from whatever they were going to do. It was a weak attempt that only drew you closer to Dabi - who merely glanced down his nose at you.

Dabi could practically feel the terror radiate off you as he held you, knowing fully that you were thinking of every possible outcome. He noticed you had been shaking before, but with Shigaraki closing the distance on you, your body was almost vibrating as you pushed yourself flush against him. It was entertaining in a sense - you were so scared of Shigaraki that you resorted to gluing onto him for refuge.

“I don’t think she likes you very much. She’s shaking like a leaf.” Dabi bent down closer to you as he spoke, but his words were not intended for you, instead they were directed at Shigaraki.

“Are you scared of Shigaraki, doll?” You can feel his nose prod into the side of your head as he continues to taunt you.

Your body stiffens but you don’t give him a response. You were absolutely horrified. But you feared that displaying any more emotion would further instigate the situation. You could only pray that they just wanted to freak you out a bit, and then hopefully let you go. However, the instincts in your gut and the way they were both looking at you told you otherwise.

“That’s too bad, isn’t it? ” Shigaraki caught your attention as he scratched his neck, eyes boring down onto yours. You swallowed hard and forced yourself to stare back, watching as his blunt nails raked down the dry skin of his neck. “She brought this on herself by meddling in things that don’t concern her.” He looked up to Dabi for a brief second, silently communicating something you couldn’t understand till the last moment.

Oh, no. You repressed a shudder as Shigaraki looked back down at you, the scar on his lips twitching as he smirked.

Before you could respond - or even blink for that matter, Dabi released your arms and shoved you towards his leader. Your arms shot out in attempts to brace yourself as your feet tripped up beneath you, unable to keep pace with the sudden force. A tiny gasp slipped past your lips as you fell forward and into Shigaraki. This is it . You thought. Your eyes slammed shut as you awaited for the embrace of death, expecting to be turned to dust as soon as he touched you.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you found his arms encircled around your waist, pinkies raised to prevent the accidental use of his quirk. You let out a puff of air as your cheek sandwiched against his chest, instantly engulfed with the odor of musk. With your arms completely immobilized between his body and yours - you couldn’t pry yourself away.

“Please. Let me go. I d-didn’t hear or see anything.” You sucked in a shaky breath as you began to plead for mercy. Inadvertently, you sniffed the material that you were pressed against, letting out a strangled cough at the rancid smell that belonged to Shigaraki. Your face scrunched up with such distaste and anguish that even Dabi noticed.

“She really doesn’t like you, eh? Just look at her. She looks like she’s going to puke.” Dabi chuckled at your expression, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.

You peered back at the flame Villain, almost as if you were trying to beg him to help. Silently, you tried to bargain for your life, casting a teary-eyed glance to Dabi. You knew this was futile, but you were willing to do just about anything to get away from Shigaraki and his destructive hands. Dabi barely gave you a second look, but knew instantly what you were trying to do. He kept his face impassive as he ignored your non-verbal pleas. There was no way he was going to help you in any way.

You whimpered, turning away when you realized there would be no sympathy from him. Obviously. Instead, you managed to press your palms flat and hard into Shigaraki’s stomach, pushing lightly in hopes of creating some much needed distance between your body and his.

“Is that right?” Shigaraki hummed and jerked you closer to him, seeing your fight as merely an annoyance rather than a threat. Your elbows buckled and you crashed into his body again. “The pretty little cop wants to get away from the disgusting villain?” He gritted as he felt the side of his neck prickle with an itch, the anger beginning to surface at your obvious revulsion of him.

He’d gotten used to the disgusted and false pity stares that society condemned him to - but there was something about your pretentious attitude that irked and made him itch incessantly. The pitiful look on your face reminded him a little too much of how corrupt this world was and how much he wanted to destroy it all. It was clear to him that you absentmindedly aligned yourself with the same views of the Heroes - like a little puppy, blindly following orders from its master. Shigaraki’s thoughts were cruel as he conjured up ways to make you squeal like the pig you were.

With a sadistic grin, his fingers reach towards your chin, gripping it between his thumb and index before tilting your head up to meet his gaze. You noticed he had rings of dry skin around his red eyes and lips, which were peeling, cracked, and had a scar straight across. It had to be a side effect of his quirk - something his body used as a coping mechanism. The sight of him brought you no comfort as you tried to wiggle out of his hold again, pushing at his torso with your palms when he lowered his head to your ear.

“Careful now. You wouldn’t want all my fingers to accidentally touch you with all that squirming, now would you?” He drummed his fingers against your waist, timing it perfectly so that all five of his pale fingers wouldn’t come into contact with you. “It’s not a nice way to go, officer. Trust me, I’ve seen it.”

Your blood ran cold as you stilled yourself, paralyzed by his words and the feeling of his fingers thudding carefully against you. With one simple change in rhythm, you’d be dead. The thought of your life dangling in the arms of a murdering psychopath didn’t do any good for your state of mind. And neither did the sudden feeling of his lips pressing into your hair, which had come undone from its usual ponytail - thick locks tumbling out to frame your pretty face.

“Oh, god. Please, just let me go.” You whispered, wide-eyed and begging.

Shigaraki snickered at your frozen form and took his opportunity in making you feel uncomfortable. His nose poked against the side of your head as he took a deep breath in, shuddering at both the scent of your lingering shower products and your soft mewl of desperation.

“I radioed my partner and he knows where I am. He’ll be here any minute now with backup. Please, let me go and no one has to get hurt.” You found yourself using a new tactic, one you hoped would buy you your freedom.

Shigaraki snorted, blowing a puff of air into your hair. “Radio?”

“It wouldn’t happen to be the same one I saw a few blocks back would it, doll?” Dabi spoke up suddenly. “The shattered one?” He teased with a knowing smile.

Your body stiffened in Shigaraki’s arms and you swallowed. “Yes, that’s the one. It's a protocol for all of us to be in constant communication about our whereabouts. He knows exactly where I am.” You lied smoothly, keeping your face as neutral as you could.

“I don’t think your partner, or anyone for that matter, will be coming for ya’.” Dabi pressed on, leaning lazily against the bricks as he eyed you.

“You’re wrong. Sam will be-” You made the unfortunate mistake of saying his name, too wound up to stop yourself in time.

Shigaraki started laughing suddenly, pulling his face away from you as he let out an unhinged cackle. Confusion washed over your features and you paused, unnerved by the high pitched sound from above you.

“Saving you? Is that what you think?” Shigaraki’s voice was lowering in pitch as he calmed himself from his laughter. “You poor thing.” He mocked. “He couldn’t even save himself. It’s pathetic if you ask me!”

Within seconds, your demeanor had morphed into complete and utter hysterics upon hearing those words. You shook your head violently, fat tears beginning to gather in your eyes as you tried to come to grips with reality.

“What? No. You’re lying. That can’t be…” You whispered as your head began to swirl with apprehension.

“Did you wanna know how Sam cried and begged for his life before I decayed him? Choking and clawing at his own throat.” Shigaraki continued, his lips pulling into a manic smile as he watched the tears roll down your cheeks.

“You’d think someone sworn to protect and serve the public would put up more of a fight, but no!” He took the chance to mock your employment motto with glee, shuddering at your look of despair.

“Geez, you really are an ass.” Dabi mumbled with a roll of his eyes. Whether or not Dabi thought Shigaraki was pushing you too far was irrelevant, because in his own twisted sense - he was enjoying it.

Shigaraki was too occupied by your suffering to pay Dabi any mind.

“You’re fucking insane! He was a good-”

“Good or bad, you and heroes still thrive on violence, just like us. Only difference being that the Heroes are filled with empty ideologies and a false sense of justice that make them foolishly believe that they’re society’s guardians. it's disgusting .” His voice ascended in pitch as he spit the words out like they were poison.

You had been staring blindly at your feet as Shigaraki tormented you with his words. Despite your unmoving stance, your vision swam and clouded with tears. You could barely keep yourself upright as you tried to clear your head. It felt like you were drowning. The muscles in your throat tightened with each swallow. Gone, your partner was gone. Every fiber in your body wanted you to run, scream, and cry, but you remained still and unmoving.

Oddly enough, the sadness in your body began to shift into something more akin to rage. It felt like the switch inside your brain had flipped and you were overwhelmed with cool, shivering hatred. It was all too much. Shigaraki’s hands are still grasping onto you and Dabi’s cool eyes are studying you, but you feel a drift from your body, as if you were just an onlooker.

Murderers. They were murderers.

For the first time in your life, you felt your resolve crumble. You wanted them dead. You wanted them to suffer. They didn’t deserve to be walking and breathing, when your partner was a pile of dust in one of these alleys. He didn’t deserve to die, but they did .

“All quiet now aren’t-”

“What would a villain know about justice? You murdered an innocent man!” You spat, craning your neck to glare right at him. Shigaraki glanced back down at you, not expecting you to speak. “Destruction follows everywhere you go; killing, stealing, and thriving on fear you cause. And you’re delusional enough to think we’re disgusting?” You hissed up at him with so much anger that your body shook. “We protect-”

You screeched when a hand weaved through your hair, suddenly jolting your head back to an unnatural angle. Your neck strained in this position, feeling as if the bones would snap if you didn’t follow his movements. Your pupils blew wide as Shigaraki leered over you and seethed with anger, his extended pinky shaking as he looked to be fighting the urge to dust you. His jaw was clenched as his wild eyes locked onto you. Still angry, you repressed the urge to spit in his face.

“It seems like you’ve forgotten who’s in charge here. You better tread carefully bitch, I’ve killed people for less.” He sneered as his grip tightened to make his point. “You’re stuck living in a fairy tale, unable to see the corruption and rot that your system has caused.” Droplets of spit hit your face as he spoke, rutting his hips against your own to gain back the upperhand in this situation. He wasn’t about to let some idiotic brat like you outsmart him. No. He was the one in charge here. He had all the power. And he was going to make sure you knew it.

Dabi sighed, wanting to speak up before Shigaraki lost complete control and decided to dust you. “The Heroes will fall from their pedestals, even if we have to knock them down one by one.”

You kept your eyes locked with Shigaraki, challenging him silently. You were certainly playing with fire right now, but your mouth was operating on its own accord, not even the lingering threat of turning to dust able to stop the words from coming out.

“The only ones who will fall are y-”

Your voice cut short as Shigaraki sloppily collided his mouth with yours. The awkward action took you by surprise and you gasped against him. Instantly, you were swarmed with his stale breath and cracked lips, planting your fists onto his chest to push him away. He groaned into you and you could tell he was unskilled by the way he messily moved his lips and prodded you with his tongue. The kiss was wet and warm, liquid building up in your tear ducts as you squirmed violently. You had emotional whiplash at the situation, as you were positive he was itching to kill you just a few moments ago, and now he was slobbering all over your mouth.

You caught his bottom lip between your teeth and bit down hard . The skin broke beneath the pressure, your mouth immediately filling up with the bitter taste of his blood as it pooled onto your tongue.

Shigaraki released your hair with a feral growl. It was his turn to be surprised at your brazen behavior, stepping back slightly as his fingers touched his chin before examining the liquid dribbling down his chin.

You glared back at him and against your better nature, you spat the remaining blood in your mouth, hitting the pavement near his feet. “You’re nothing but a petulant little child - crying and whining when you don’t get your way. It’s pathetic.” You hissed, wiping your chin with the back of your hand.

Shigaraki looked at you through rage filled eyes. He should have expected this reaction from you, but figured that you were more bark than actual bite. His chest rising and falling at a pace that indicated he was ready to kill. He could feel every nerve in his body buzzing with adrenaline and anger, aching to pounce and watch your body crumble to dust. Oh, he was going to make you regret that.

“You’re in trouble now, little bitch. I’ll bring you to heel like I should’ve done from the start.” His lips pulled back into a snarl as he stepped forward.

You could see the malicious glee radiate from his darkened gaze, forcing you to take a step back to avoid it. He could’ve caught you in a mere second, but he found pleasure in your look of anger quickly turning into fear as he matched your retreating steps. Shigaraki could practically feel the anxiety coming off your body in waves, sending a sickening shudder down his back. He didn’t usually find pleasure in anything besides destruction and death, but there was something about you that made him want to savor this - despite your bratty demeanor and fake brave facade.

He giggled - high pitched and threatening as he advanced on your trembling form. He never found close contact to particularly be one of his favorites, but he’d make an exception just for you. Shigaraki knew there was no escape for you, which was emphasized by Dabi creeping forwards.

“Get away from me, freak!” You shrieked out of surprise, too focused on Shigaraki closing in on you to notice that Dabi had settled behind you again.

He wasn’t going to let crusty have all the fun, that just wouldn’t do.

“Ah, ah ah. You aren’t thinking of running again are you, doll?” Dabi rasped and you instinctively spun around to face him, meeting his crooked smirk with a grimace of your own.

Dabi stepped forward suddenly, and you stumbled back, brain swimming before you realized Shigaraki was directly behind you now. He took this opportunity to catch you by the collar of your uniform, all five fingers coming into contact with the soft fabric. The material instantly began to unravel and disintegrate into thin air, leaving you in nothing but your bra and a thin layer of dust.

“What are you doing!” You cried out, backing away into the wall between them. Your hands covered your chest in attempts to protect your modesty. Your breathing only escalated at this point, your bare chest doing little to hide the rise and fall of your panicked state.

Both men scan over you, but it's the feral look in Shagaraki’s eyes that scare you the most. You back against the wall, leaning away as he takes slow paces towards you. He hated you, you knew that, but there was a lingering appearance of longing hidden deep within his crimson eyes. It was terrifying when he was angry, since it was so clearly displayed, but this was something completely different. This lustful expression was chilling, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Shigaraki continued until he was only a few inches in front of you, his ebony fingers reaching out to touch your face. His gaze followed the swell of your breasts for a moment, before settling back up to your face. You thought your heart was about to explode out of your chest when you watched Shigaraki’s tongue wet his dry lips. He didn’t need to say anything for you to understand this action, and you started to feel light headed. Your hand balled up into a white-knuckled fist, pulling back slowly to hit his smug face.

Dabi must have had an idea of what you were about to do, because he launched forward and caught your wrist, ending your attempt prematurely with a click of his tongue.

“As much as I would’ve loved to see that, I don’t think it would be wise, doll.” Dabi wrenched your arm back down to your side and placed himself behind you - standing guard with his hands on your shoulders, in case you decided to try it again.

Sandwiched between the two villains, Shigaraki grinned as he moved to run his hands along your waist, his pinkies rising just above your shivering skin. “If you don’t drop that attitude, I’ll have to force it out of you, sweetheart.” You much preferred when he called you a bitch, or anything besides that sick term of endearment.

You held yourself straight, begrudgingly allowing his fingers to trace small patterns. You focused on keeping your face straight and looking directly past him as if he weren’t even there. Shigaraki noticed this and became slightly annoyed at your ignorance. This just wouldn’t do. His palm rested flat against the material of your bra, dusting it just like he had done with your shirt.

A soft sound rumbled in your throat and your eye twitched, but otherwise you said nothing. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. You chanted to yourself, repeating the reassuring words to ground yourself.

Dabi laughed. “Stubborn little thing isn’t she?” He settled his chin in the crook of your neck, causing you to try and shift away, which succeeded in little as Dabi wrapped his hand around your throat. “It looks like we’re gonna have to show ya’ some manners, doll.”

“She’ll learn.” Shigaraki tipped your jaw up with a single finger, watching you through his lashes.

“Don’t touch me.” Shigaraki crouched down, his face level with your stomach. He paid no attention to you as he pressed his tongue flat against your stomach, feeling you shrink back and let out a sharp exhale.

Wet, hot trails of saliva littered up your torso as he dragged the muscle all over your skin. You did your best to remain still at his assault - commanding your body to adhere to your orders had never been such a struggle till now. You had been managing fine, until you felt his tongue prod closer to the top lining of your jeans. The appendage was too close for your liking, resulting in your hips unconsciously shifting backwards from the searing heat.

Dabi let out a pained groan when your ass came into contact with his erection. The brief contact made him twitch and his hand tighten around your neck. He watched you out of the corner of his eye, noticing that you were biting your lip. With his free hand, he pushed the stray hairs away and settled his lips against the curve of your neck. You had been so focused on Shigaraki that you nearly forgot about him - jumping slightly as he pressed open mouthed kisses at the base of your neck.

While the action was not welcomed, the feeling of his lips against your skin made your head fall back into his shoulder. Satisfied with your reaction, Dabi let out a breathless laugh. You could feel the moisture of his breath on your neck, making your eyes flutter shut.

Shigaraki peaked up at you, grinning devilishly as he moved to grab your breasts. His thumbs ran over your peaked nipples before he latched his mouth onto one of them. His tongue flicked over the sensitive skin, causing you to push your chest closer to him. Shigaraki hummed to himself, hollowing out his cheeks to leave dark bruises. He couldn’t hold back the saliva that pooled in his mouth and instead, he let it collect all over your skin. He’d make sure you’d regret calling him disgusting.

“Stop that!” You snapped your head downwards to glare at Shigaraki - narrowly missing Dabi’s head in the process.

Shigaraki pulled away with a giggle, a line of spit connecting his lips to your nipple. “And what makes you so confident to tell me what to do?” He stood to his full height now, towering over you and causing you to bump back into Dabi. “The pretty little cop, all alone with the ugly villains, thinking she can give demands.” Five fingers skimmed across your pants, making them crumble to another pile of dust at your feet.

Your eyes met with Shigaraki, who let out another snort of a laugh. “Don’t move now, I’d hate to ruin the fun by accidentally killing you.” He teased, his fingers looping under the band of your panties as he pulled them down your legs.

His fingers skimmed down your thighs to prove his point, and he began to kiss and lick at your skin, noticing that you were trembling now. With your panties out of the way, he brought them up to his nose and sniffed at the center, his eyes shutting at your tangy odor. You almost keeled over at the sight below you, but Dabi kept you upright with a sharp tug.

“You’re not keeping those are you, creep?” Dabi asked, his lips curling back at Shigaraki’s actions.

“Shut up and hold her still, crispy.” He shot back, tucking the last piece of clothing you wore into his pocket with an annoyed growl.

Dabi rolled his eyes and reached around to grab onto your waist, steadying you as Shigaraki lifted your leg up. You swayed slightly and took hold of Dabi’s forearm, your nails digging into his coat as you tried to balance yourself.

“I got ya’, relax.” He spoke, annoyance riddled in his voice.

Shigaraki moved his attention to your cunt, which you tried to hide by shuffling your foot inwards. He didn’t mind nor care for your refusal, noting that he would deal with it later. He was too consumed with lust and excitement, drool beginning to pool on his tongue at the sight of your mound.

“You sick fuck. You’re not act-” Shigaraki gave you no time to protest as he dove mouth first into your cunt. He latched onto you, his tongue awkwardly poked around at your folds, almost like he didn’t quite know what he was doing. Nonetheless, the sudden intrusion caught you by surprise, causing you to snap your jaw shut.

You could feel his lips curve upwards, the taste of you sending a spike of blood to the tip of his cock. His mouth moved messily against you, sucking in attempts to get more of that sweetness he craved. It was pure bliss. He never imagined you’d taste this good.

His tongue swept up to your clit, which caused you to flinch. He repeated the motion again, this time circling harder over it. You keened into his mouth, involuntarily letting out a small moan at the feeling. Shigaraki snickered against you, focusing his assault on that same spot which made you flutter and gasp. He propped your leg further up, gaining better access to the gathering heat of your pussy.

“Oh, god. S-stop-” You blubbered, arching back.

The sound of your whimpers and soaking heat made him growl, he wanted nothing more than to replay those pretty sounds over and over. His face pressed harder into you, quickly learning where to focus his tongue to make you cry out and gush over his mouth. Your lips parted into an ‘O’ as your hips unconsciously bucked into his face, taking Shigaraki by surprise at your sudden eagerness.

His tongue lapped over your clit a few more times before he buried it into your hole, tasting and sucking the slick that dribbled out. This time, you moaned louder. Shigaraki sucked and lapped at you, drawing out noises that you’d never thought would come out of you. You could feel just how wet you were getting, the skin of your cheeks flushed with a bright blush, stinging beneath your eyes as you soaked his face.

“That’s it, doll. Let it all out.” Dabi began kneading the flesh of your breast as he cooed softly in your ear. His own erection was straining against the front of his pants, poking you in your rear each time you moved.

Shigaraki placed two bony fingers at your entrance before shoving them in hard and fast. His knuckles slammed into you as he fully sheathed himself inside, drawing out a sharp cry. You were not prepared for this and you felt yourself clamp down hard. He continued to slurp at your clit, enjoying the feeling of his fingers barely fitting. He pulled his fingers out slowly, watching his fingers shine bright with your slick.

“You’re pretty soaked for someone who doesn’t want this.” He examined his scissoring fingers, slick connecting his pale digits together before he licked them clean. “You like my ugly face buried in your sweet cunt, don’t you?” Shigaraki placed a chaste kiss on your thigh.

“How’s that ego doing now?” Dabi teased, pinching hard at your nipples. “You’re gushing all over that creep.”

You gritted your teeth together in humiliation. You didn’t know if it was Shigaraki’s or Dabi’s taunting that sent you over the edge. Either way, it was Dabi who was going to suffer. You snapped your head back to connect with Dabi’s chin, eliciting a sickening crack at the sudden contact. He didn’t expect you to pull such a stunt, especially now of all times. He let out a deep snarl of anger that vibrated against your back, before releasing his hold on you.

“How’s your face?” You hissed back, struggling to keep yourself steady. The rattling in your skull didn’t help your now wavering balance, as you were still standing on one leg.

Even with your pussy hovering only a few inches in front of his leader - you were still acting like a brat. Dabi glanced at Shigaraki, who was watching you closely before nodding towards Dabi.

“Down, bitch.” Dabi growled.

Simultaneously, Dabi kicked the back of your knee with his booted foot and Shigaraki let go of your leg. Your knee immediately buckled and you let out a cry of surprise as you lost your balance. Your hands shot out in attempts to stop yourself from falling, but you were too late. You collapsed to the floor, landing hard on your knees before Dabi kicked you into Shigaraki’s lap.

Once again, he caught you, glancing down at you with a smile as you tried to peel yourself off his body.

“It’s game over now, brat.” You continued to struggle in his hold, your palms lifting up to push at his shoulders, but Shigaraki was quick to catch you. His slender fingers wrapping around the back of your neck and tilting his head to give you one last look before forcing your face to his groin.

Despite his lanky appearance, he was quite strong and easily managed to subdue you. Your eyes squeezed shut as Shigaraki let out a low groan, reveling in your helplessness and the feeling of your nose pressing against his clothed erection. Your fists dug into his thighs as you tried to push yourself up, your arms shaking in exhaustion.

Shigaraki gave you another shove, forcing your head back down. “This is nice, don’t you think?” He rubbed small patterns in your hair, carefully tucking his thumb against his palm.

Your eyes stung with tears of humiliation, your ass perched up perfectly for both his and Dabi’s enjoyment. Inadvertently, you breathed in, once again overwhelmed with his musky smell. You let out a quiet sob, the tears burning as they slid down your cheeks.

“She looks much better from this angle.” You heard Dabi rasp from behind you.

With the little strength you could manage from this angle, you turned your neck to look back at him. His attention was focused on the round of your ass, and you could see him palming the front of his jeans. The lewd action made you sob, which Dabi noticed and made him smirk.

Shigaraki was studying you from above, his crimson eyes soaking in every bit of your reactions as he leaned back on his heels. Oddly enough, the look of disgust on your face managed to turn him on even more . His scarred lips cracked into an unnerving grin and he pulled you up by your hair to meet his gaze.

“I want you to suck it.” He ordered.

Your stomach dropped at his words and you felt the tears finally start to stream down your cheeks. “Please…” He gave you no time to beg, already stripping himself free of his pants and guiding you down.

You find yourself hovering directly above his cock, staring at it with widened eyes. You didn’t know he’d be this big. You swallow hard and tentatively reach out to stroke him, your fingers barely managing to wrap around his girth. He lets out a sharp hiss of air at the feeling of your soft hands and bucks forward. Another choked sob escapes your lips and your tears fall onto his legs as you continue to stroke slowly.

Shigaraki lets out a disgruntled growl and tightens his grip on your hair. “I told you to suck it, idiot.”

Shakily, you stick your tongue out and run it over the tip of his cock. The mix of his sweaty skin and precum leaves a salty taste on your tongue, making you cringe. Your mouth parts more as you try to adjust your jaw for his size, but Shigaraki was impatient. His hips suddenly jut forward and you gag, feeling his entire length force its way into your throat. Your hands slap against his thighs and you begin to breathe through your nose. Shigaraki lets out a low moan at your throat clenching around him.

Tears blur your vision and snot runs down your nose. Shigaraki didn’t care, too wrapped up in the pleasure of your wet mouth sucking him off. You were his toy now, and he was going to do whatever he pleased with you.

Dabi could feel his dick twitch with every whine and strangled gasp you made. The confinements of his jeans were getting a little too tight for his liking, so he made quick work of unbuckling his belt and freeing himself. He trailed two fingers up and down your slit, smirking as you slick gathered on his digits. A squeak traveled up your throat, muffled by Shigaraki’s cock stuffing it full as you felt Dabi’s fingers prod at you.

“You’re drenched, doll. Are you enjoying this? Hm? Getting raped by two Villains at the same time?” Dabi’s fingers pushed past the tight muscle of your pussy, embedding them deep inside you. He curled his digits up and brought them in and out slowly, shuddering at your suffocating walls tightening around him.

Your throat vibrated with a low moan, saliva pouring out the sides of your mouth as you could no longer hold it in due to the girth of Shigaraki’s cock resting against your tongue.

“You’re so fucking tight, but don’t worry, I’ll stretch ya’ out.” His fingers left your sopping hole before you felt something much larger settle against you. Your eyes widened and you tried to pull away from both of them.

Shigaraki hissed as your teeth grazed against him, the foreign feeling causing him to jerk forwards and deeper down your throat. You pitifully looked up at him, eyes bloodshot from crying and gagging.

The distraction allowed for Dabi to plunge into you, fully bottoming out and slamming against your cervix. You immediately screamed, eyes wide and unseeing as your back bowed to the ground.

“Fuck! That’s it.” Dabi had you by your hips, keeping you pinned while he rocked towards you.

Your core burned in anguish, giving you barely any time to adjust to his size as Dabi’s cock dragged up and down your walls, moaning as your pussy greedily sucked him in. You felt like you were going to pass out, both of your holes stuffed beyond their limit and catching you out of breath.

The sight almost made Shigaraki bust his load down your throat, but he managed to suppress it. He wasn’t about to prematurely end this little game just because he couldn’t control himself, so he pulled himself out of your mouth with a wet plop. The tip of his cock throbbed painfully, deepening in color with the amount of blood arousal pumping to the head.

You gasped like a fish, gulping down as much air as your lungs could handle. Oxygen had never tasted quite so sweet until now, considering you were on the verge of passing out. Your hand shakily moved up to wipe your nose and mouth, grimacing when Dabi bottomed out again. Your chest bounced with the swift force, giving Shigaraki a clear view from above.

“What a mess.” He kept his hands on your head, silently warning you not to move.

You struggled to keep pace as Dabi’s movements refused to slow. With your mouth freed, Dabi took the opportunity to make you scream. The enlarged head of his cock slammed back into your cervix, hitting a particularly sensitive spot that had you heeling over Shigaraki’s lap. You clawed at his thighs, digging your nails into his skin.

“Please! It hurts!” You sobbed, but dared not to look back, knowing that you’d only make things worse for yourself.

“Begging now?” Dabi grunts, “It’s not like you can do anything about it- just relax and enjoy it.” He says between breaths, struggling to keep his voice steady. The depth of his strokes make you cry, and you try to crawl away. You don’t get far, Dabi sees to that by dragging you back with a growl.

“I-I can-can’t. Please, stop!” Dabi’s arm moves to cradle your stomach, his other hand dipping down to your cunt, eagerly searching for your clit. This angle only draws him in deeper, but the soft circles that his fingers trace along your clit lessen the pain. His steady rhythm and lingering heat of his fingers make it harder to control the building pressure. You weren’t sure who you hated more, Dabi or Shigaraki. Both of them could rot in hell .

“Does that feel nice?” Shigaraki coos. The knotting in his stomach is calming down, and he's almost ready to watch you choke on his cock again, but your not so subtle attempts to hide your pleasure has him enchanted. The way your eyebrows twitch and mouth open in awe almost make him bust at the sight.

Ever so slightly, he tilts your head up with a gentle tug. Obediently, you open your eyes, briefly noticing his scar twitch as he opens his mouth. A string of spit falls from his lips before you can close your mouth, landing on your tongue while the remnants drip down your chin.

“Swallow it.” His eyes challenged.

“Ngh-” Your eyes fluttered shut, throat clenching as you swallowed it back. Gross.

“Good girl.” Shigaraki was done with his mind games. He lined himself back up, confident that he could last slightly longer.

You granted him access, kissing and licking at him in hopes that he’d cum quick. Your tongue pressed flat on his underside, rubbing up and along the vein that thumped with each stroke. You knew he was getting close, and so were you. Dabi was working quicker on your clit, your body ignoring every cue from your brain to stop. You had no control, and felt the effects of your orgasm wash over you. You tensed, clenching down on Dabi and making him groan, eyes rolling back at the feeling.

“That’s it, doll. You’re- gonna make me-” Dabi hissed, following your orgasm with his own moments later. He’s never come that fast before, and to be honest, he was a little embarrassed.

You moaned, feeling the heat of his cum drench your insides. Hot. It was so hot . He twitched as he filled your pulsating cunt, drawing out a handful of curses from him. You cried out, muffled sounds escaping your mouth. Tears soaked your face as you rode out your high, feeling Dabi pull out of your sopping hole and release you. A mixture of his and your own cum ran down your thighs, causing you to shudder. He stayed behind you, in case you had any bright ideas while he was stuffing himself back into his pants.

Shigaraki laughed, rutting himself against your face, taking you by surprise as your nose collided with his pubic bone. You let out a strangled cough, slamming your hands onto his thighs as you struggled to breathe through your blocked nose.

“I knew you’d be fun -ah- knew it.” Shigaraki pushed your head so far down that you gagged, tears overflowing and blurring your vision.

His hips thrusted forward, releasing a low growl as he spilled himself down the back of your throat. You coughed, quickly swallowing it all back in fear of your body accidentally spitting it back up. It was salty, and felt heavy as it traveled down your throat and settled in your stomach.

The moment his hand left the back of your head, you threw yourself away and wiped your lips. There was a lingering taste of him invading your tongue, which you knew would take you months to wash away.

Curled up against the wall, you shielded your head in your arms, tucking yourself behind your shivering form. You didn’t bother looking up when you heard their footsteps, instead, you remained still and awaited death.

“It seems like your time wasn’t wasted afterall.” You heard the familiar rasp of Shigaraki. He wasn’t talking to you, but you could feel a tinge of something in your gut at his words.

You felt something crouch beside you, peering over you like a hawk. You tilted your head slightly, glancing up at Dabi as he examined you. “Not the type of recruit I had in mind, but she’ll be useful.” He patted your head, brushing matts of hair away from your eyes. “In other ways.”

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loquaciousferret · 2 years ago

Text

Heat Waves

Gif: @serenaxpedro

Summary: A heatwave and a broken air conditioning unit in the office leads to tensions running high between you and your partner, Javier Peña. What lengths will you consider going to, seeking relief?

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, no minors etc etc . fingering, unprotected sex, semi-public sex (in an office), maybe more, just please don’t read if you can be sensitive to any kinds of sexual content

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: credit to @tightjeansjavi for the prompt, this was delightful to write hehe

You check the wall thermometer again. The needle is creeping just above 30°. You groan loudly.

For a building full of people whose work visas list them as being employed in “Janitorial Services”, the US Embassy in Medellin had a shockingly poor maintenance and janitorial department.

The air conditioning had broken yesterday, towards the end of the work day. It was bearable because it was already beginning to cool down into the evening, but today, in the mid-day sun, in a July heatwave, it had been too much for most of your colleagues to bear.

Anyone who was able to work from home had scurried off with boxes of files to catch up on paperwork in their air conditioned apartments.

But you and Javi couldn’t move the entire wall of the office where you were mapping out trade routes, connections, linking suspects together and desperately trying to find a pattern that would let you understand where exactly the evidence was that you so desperately needed.

You had probably consumed your body-weight in water. You had already shed as many layers as possible. You had even removed your tights. All that was left was a tight skirt and a blouse that was sticking to your skin all over. Plastered to your lower back, your chest. Nothing was cooling you down.

“Are you evening listening to me?” Javi sighs.

Your gaze snaps up to him, he is watching you with an expression that is more defeated than irritated.

“I’m sorry Jav, can’t think straight. This fucking heat’s making me crazy.” You say sincerely.

“Yeah, you can say that again.” He responds sympathetically.

He wipes sweat from his brow.

“Just… take a break. G’nna go outside to smoke, hopefully catch a breeze.” He mutters.

As he leaves the room, a disturbing thought crosses your mind. The shirt clinging to his broad shoulders and his back muscles flexing as he reaches for the door handle makes you question… Is Javi attractive? Well, obviously, he is, to every other woman in Colombia. But is Javi attractive to you? Not up until now, his personality thoroughly put you off. But the way he looked from behind, even with those patches of sweat staining his shirt… or, maybe, especially with those patches of sweat…

“What the fuck.” You mutter.

This heat really is making you insane. You physically shake your head to try and rid yourself of the thought. Javier fucking Peña. Yeah right.

You return your focus to the document he was attempting to discuss with you before. It was a transcript of an intercepted communication, between two parties who you couldn’t understand a reasonable explanation for them now working together. The whole thing sent your head into a spin trying to piece it together.

You knew you were on the edge of a breakthrough. You could feel it. Javi knew it too, and you were both pushing each other to your limits. He was an excellent partner. His job was the only thing he cared about. That might be the only thing you and Javi had in common. As different as the two of you were, the job was where you found mutual respect, and that was all that mattered.

Heat creeped up your chest and around the back of your neck. It was practically choking, consuming every single sense and causing a layer of impenetrable fog to settle in your mind. Being off your game at a critical point in your investigation was less than optimal.

Javi entered again and you analysed his features. If the heat was affecting him as much as it was you, he was doing a good job at not showing it.

“How are you coping with this? I feel like I’m about to be swallowed by the sun.” You groan exaggeratedly.

“Grew up in Texas.” He shrugs.

“Really?” You say, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes.” He says, meeting your eyes. “Is that surprising?”

“Yeah. I thought Southerners were gentlemen."

“Maybe I am.” He responds, holding a bottle of water to his forehead.

You scoff and then clear your throat. “Anyway, I’m reading this again. I can’t help but think this is a code name for some kind of object or thing, not a person. If it was a person they would have come up before now. There are only so many people that run in these circles, I just don’t think we could have missed someone this important.”

He tilts his head from side to side, considering your suggestion. As he does so, the tendons in his neck protrude and you see how his tanned skin sparkles as it glistens with sweat.

Finally, he responds, “Maybe. But for what? These guys aren’t geniuses. Think we can work out the code?”

“I don’t know.” You say. “Not any further forward on that part.”

You fan yourself with some scrap paper you have folded and concertinaed carefully. You throw your head back in your seat and sigh deeply.

When you sit back up and open your eyes again, you think you find Peña’s gaze trained on your chest, but he quickly looks away.

You feel yourself equally irritated and intrigued by his staring. You had never noticed him look at you like this before.

“Everything OK, Jav?” You say, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah- Yeah. I’m good. Just- Yeah.” His eyes linger on yours for a moment and he runs his hand across his forehead, wiping away beads of sweat.

You both continue to work, but you feel his eyes continually flicking back to you, telling you he is not focussed either.

You feel as though the tension continues to build as you both try and work, and you want to tell yourself it’s not just because of the heat. But you are worried this is one-sided. Even if that would mean you were the only woman in Colombia Javi wasn’t interested in sleeping with.

As the day goes on, painfully slowly, you find yourself more and more distracted by his presence and frustrated with your lack of progress in your investigation.

You curse loudly.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his gaze intense.

“I’m just… I’m so frustrated, Peña. I don’t know what to do about it.” You sigh.

“I’m sure I know how I could help you deal with it.” He says, with a glint in his eye.

You scowl at him. Now that had to have been intentional flirting.

“I feel like no matter what we do we are always running in circles chasing our own tails. How do they always stay one step ahead of us. Like you said, these guys aren’t geniuses.”

“Hey.” He says, his expression stern. “Don’t talk like that. We’ll get ‘em.”

“Every day that goes on we are losing more. I feel like I’ve already given all of myself and more to this investigation.”

He had closed the distance between you, and placed his hand over yours where you fiddled with your pen on the desk. The touch burned.

“Let me take your mind off it.” He says, something unfamiliar behind his eyes.

You ignore him, and slide the memo on your desk over towards him. “Can you assign someone else to the stakeout tomorrow. We have to be in for the meeting with-“

He cuts you off, grumbling, “You always use work talk to distract guys hitting on you?”

“Hitting on m- Jesus, Peña. The heat makin’ you fuckin’ stupid?” You shoot back.

“Maybe.” He shrugs. But he doesn’t step away from you.

“You believe in shitting where you eat?” You continue.

“Not usually. But I can see how frustrated you are. I’d be a bad partner to let you suffer like this.” He smirked.

You raise an eyebrow at him. You know the answer to your question but you want to hear him say it. “What are you suggesting?”

He leans in closer, “I’m suggesting I help you forget work a while, let me relieve some of your tension. Maybe it’ll force a breakthrough.”

“Yeah right.” You say. You turn to face him, looking for any sign in his dark eyes that he isn’t being serious in his proposition. Any sign of hesitation or doubt. Any sign that it is all some joke. But you don’t find it.

His moustache tickles as he whispers in your ear. His hot breath sends shivers down your spine. “You know you want it. Let me help you.”

You want to say no, but your body betrays you as you find yourself being acted on by what seems like a magnetic force, drawing you closer to him.

You manage to produce one more protest, but it comes out weak, as though you are trying to convince yourself for a reason to say no. “That would be unprofessional.”

“Who’s gonna report us?” He taunts. “You?”

You find yourself shaking your head in response to his question, and he pounces on you, connecting his lips to yours in a desperate kiss.

An oppressive heat continues to suffocate your body, but this one isn’t from the conditions in the office, this is a fire that is coming from within, a burning flame stoked by the attraction and desire that has come over the two of you.

You give in to the feeling of him as his hands roam all over you, unbuttoning your blouse hastily and discarding it. A mixture of excitement and guilt nags at you. This is your partner. This is wrong. And not just any partner, it’s Javier Peña. He has screwed at least half the women in Medellin. This is not how you should be behaving.

But at the same time, you can’t deny the intense chemistry between you in this moment. The way your desperation and hunger perfectly matches his. The way he whispers dirty words in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

His cock is already straining against his tight jeans, and you reach a hand up to palm him through the denim.

He sighs at the feeling and puts his hands on your waist, pulling you up and guiding you to sit on the desk. A strong hand parts your thighs and creeps upwards, pressing against the thin fabric of your panties. You moan into his mouth, and then blush, embarrassed by the affect his touches are having on you so quickly.

He continues to rub gently against the fabric and you reach towards him to release his belt buckle. You fumble with it and he pushes your hands away impatiently and takes it off himself, unzipping his jeans and taking out his erect cock.

He strokes himself a few times and you watch, transfixed, your breathing shallow.

He stops and gathers the hem of your skirt, pushing it up to your hips to release your thighs. He spreads you wide and pushes your underwear to the side, not bothering to remove it as he plunges two fingers inside you.

You gasp and he starts off with an already quick pace, hammering in and out of you and curling them inside you to reach the most pleasurable spots. It doesn’t take long until your legs are shaking, your hands gripping the edge of the desk to steady yourself. You were already sweating from the heat but now you feel as though you are melting, struggling to catch your breath and releasing desperate whines of pleasure.

His thumb reaches up to rub your clit and you moan, “Javii-”

“You like that, huh?”

He attaches his lips to your neck, sucking lightly before moving down to the valley between your collarbones, licking up beads of salty sweat that have gathered there. He moans into your skin and the sound goes right through you, you twitch and start to feel an orgasm rising inside you.

“You gonna come for me before I even fuck you, huh?” He taunts, “More desperate than I thought.”

You ignore his cocky commentary and focus on the feeling of his hands on you. You can’t deny he is skilled and knows exactly the right pace and rhythm to bring you your release quickly.

The pressure on your clit increases and he rubs faster circles around it. Tension builds in your stomach.

“Don’t stop.” You gasp out.

His other hand has reached back to stroke his cock roughly, and he lets out small sounds of pleasure into your ear. You didn’t expect him to be this vocal but it turns you on.

Your pleasure is reaching its peak and he senses it too, toying with your clit unrelentingly as you writhe on the desk beneath him, the cool surface doing nothing to calm the heat inside you. Your legs tense up as your orgasm washes over you, you lose your stability and fall backwards atop the papers and documents strewn across the desk. Your back arches and his movements don’t slow down, unashamed cries of pleasure streaming from you as you ride out your orgasm.

He shifts slightly and there isn’t a moment of rest until he removes his fingers and replaces them with his hard cock. He plunges deep inside you on the first thrust, the hairs at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit, almost driving you to overstimulation with your orgasm barely subsided.

He sets a punishing pace with his haps, snapping against you hard and fast, your cunt greedily clenching and tightening around him every single time he buries himself inside you.

“Feel so good. Don’t know why I waited this long.” He mutters.

You whine, unable to form a coherent response. One of his hands is squeezing at your chest and the other is gripping your hip, pulling you down on him harder to intensify the force of every single thrust.

He is everything you thought he would be, hungry and passionate and clearly practiced in the art of both giving and taking pleasure.

Your sounds echo around the room. Neither of you worry about this, knowing the office was nearly empty. Even then, your desire for him clouds your mind so far to the extent that you don’t think you would mind being caught anyway. It was worth the risk.

He takes both of your legs and manoeuvres you, bending them and lifting them up so they lazily rest against his shoulders. Thank god for yoga, you think.

The new position tightens you up and somehow allows him even deeper access. You moan shamelessly and he grunts with every single thrust. His pace is unrelenting and you feel him becoming more and more forceful with each one, chasing his climax.

“Can I come inside you?” He asks through gritted teeth.

You are unable to form words, you nod, your mouth hanging open but no sounds come out other than strangled gasps.

“Fuckkk.” He grunts, turned on even more at the prospect of filling you up and it sends him over the edge.

He spills into you, your name thrown in amongst the curses he mutters as he comes. He keeps a tight hold of you as he steadies his breathing.

Moments after he releases inside you, you feel the relief he had been promising. You close your eyes and let out a deep, contented sigh.

And then, suddenly, they fly open again.

“Move!” You almost yell, pushing his chest away from you.

“Move. I’ve got it.” He pulls himself away from you and you leap up, pulling your skirt back down. You grab a pen and begin scribbling frantic notes over the transcript.

“I’ve got it.” You repeat.

“Worked even better than I imagined.” He teased, smirking as he buttoned his jeans and re-fastened his belt before coming to join you and see the revelation you had come to.

“Good to know.” He adds, “Nice tactic for the future.”

You roll your eyes at him and thrust the paper towards him with satisfaction. He might be right, it might have been the sex that did the trick, but you would never admit it.

More Javier Peña oneshots:

Over and Done With | Partners | All Work, No Play | Little Games

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