#yet again feathers on the brain (◕_�� ) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ghost-proofbaby · 2 months ago

Text

SIMPLE. (astarion ancunin x afab!reader)

based upon this request by @leahthesith: you've grown tired of astarion's games of jealousy, and it all comes crashing down one night when he chooses to spoil your fun with shadowheart.

warnings: mentions and allusions to astarion's past, as well as his sexual trauma. biting. lots, and lots, and lots of biting. oral sex ('f' receiving), smut. reader is not explicitly gendered/no pronouns are used. only a brief comparison of a 'schoolgirl crush'. reader has also had almost romantic interactions with several companions. 18+ - minors dni.

wc: 7.4k+

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There’s no reason for him to be looking at you like that.

No explanation, no justification, no reason for those jewel eyes to be glowering at you from across the tavern. For his fist to wrap around the mug of whatever he’s sipping on for show, pale skin going translucent in the dancing candlelight. For his entire chest having gone still the last several minutes, and for you to be unable to decipher if he’s simply too distracted to bother with the last of what remains of his living instincts or if it’s another instinct all on its own – if he’s holding his breath as he watches your conversation with Shadowheart.

Then again, there’s no real reason for you to be watching him back.

The matter of the fact is that you’re watching him just as closely, just as captivated by his presence from across the room, just to simply notice these things. The stillness in his shoulders and the glint that you swear must be his fangs poking past his lips should not be in your periphery. Your focus, all your attention, should be on the vibrant girl on the stool beside you. The dark beauty who’s speaking more with her hands than her lips, giggling over yet another glass of wine.

“You know,” she sighs wistfully, and you have to tear your gaze away from where it had wandered towards the vampire currently sulking away from the group, “The wine here in the city is much better than on the road.”

You hum as you distractedly take a sip from your own glass, tongue immediately peeking out to trace along your bottom lip subconsciously, as if you might be trying to savor the flavor. As if you can even taste the flavor. Your tongue has gone all but numb to the ruby liquid as a very different shade of red has captured your interest.

This could be the same wine from the druid party at the beginning of your journey, the party in which you snatched a bottle from the very shadow that is watching your every move, and you wouldn’t know the difference.

“It is,” you lie, swirling the red liquid a little bit, an attempt to bring back the taste all over your tongue.

And even if she buys your lie, Shadowheart can tell something is off, leaning in just a bit closer, peering at you just a little more concerningly, “Is everything okay? You don’t seem yourself.”

You don’t feel yourself. You should be feeling much more jubilant. You should be joining in on the same fun everyone else is having, toasting to yet another battle won. The end of it all was so close you could taste it.

And yet, you don’t. Because he’s in the corner brooding, and with him he’s seemingly taken both your mind and your mood.

“It’s been a long day,” It’s been one long day after another for months, it seems, “I suppose the wine is just making me relax a bit too much.”

That it is. The alcohol has managed to wiggle its way into your bloodstream, heading straight up your spine and to your brain. All your thoughts feather at the edge, and perhaps that was why you were watching Astarion back so intensely.

Months of this journey, and you still felt no closer to figuring him out than you had that very first night of discovering his vampirism. Each layer of him that you had peeled back only revealed more confusion to sit with. Some days, you swore you had him entirely figured out. You knew every in and every out of all his wits, and you knew all the steps to the dance in which he’d attempt to draw you into. You could play into whatever design he was spinning between the two of you; you could beat him at his own game.

But other days, days like today, you simply couldn’t.

All his flirtations, all his subtle seductions – you couldn’t decipher what was real and what was still for show. For every innuendo he’d whispered into your ear, he shared just as scandalous a comment with another party member. For every seemingly accidental graze of his cold skin against yours, he was attaching himself at the hip of another one of your companions. For all he gave, he would take just as much. Leaving you spinning in the hope of it all; leaving you with a yearning hunger that probably neared the threshold of his own vampiric hunger.

You want him. You hate him. He infatuates you. He irritates you. He is both sides of the same coin that has damned you every step along the way of this peculiar journey you’ve embarked on together.

“I know what you mean,” Shadowheart brings you back to reality with one swoop of her hair, a careful gathering of the locks to leave a shoulder exposed, “What is it that they always say? Wine is the secret ingredient for every bad decision?”

Your eyes trace carefully over her skin, the slope of where her neck meets her collarbone, the residual bruising leftover from the latest fight blooming beautifully over her. A welcome distraction.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever heard them say that,” you muse, a smile tugging on your lips, eyes still traveling. Up, up, up.

Over the line of her jaw, across the curve of her chin. Pillowy bottom lip and softly rounded nose. Softness – she’s made up of all soft and delicate features, such a contrast to someone such as Ast-

You must stop thinking about Astarion.

You’re no longer asking yourself of it, you’re demanding yourself of it. You make a point to move your body and head carefully, positioning yourself just so that the outline of the confusing vampire on your mind is entirely blocked out by Shadowheart’s silhouette.

“Oh, trust me – they say it all the time,” something simmers beneath Shadowheart’s returning grin, a sparkle in her eyes that should spark some sort of excitement in you. But it’s a hollow ache; you’re still painfully aware that he’s in the room, “Say, would you like to maybe… I don’t know, get out of here? I’m sure we could sneak some more of this exquisite wine to the room upstairs, perhaps find somewhere to relax together even more-”

“Oh, my dear Shadowheart, don’t you know that that would be thievery?”

His voice, so close and sudden, sucks all of the air out of your lungs.

“Astarion!” Shadowheart jumps a bit at his sudden appearance, but you hardly move a muscle. As though your body had been expecting him, as if you had always known the night was leading to this outcome, “I’m surprised to see you’ve given up your gloomy act to join us all. I thought you might sulk in the corner all night.”

His eyes lock on you, and the facade of his usual self seemingly melts. There’s something darker beneath the surface, an animal caged away, and you can see it as it bares its teeth, “Not sulking. Merely observing.”

You can’t speak. Your entire chest is still tight, lungs still deflated, by his proximity.

“Well, hard to tell the difference when you hide away in the darkness,” Shadowheart manages to get out before her lips press tightly together, clearly irritated at your companion.

She’d nearly had you. She had been giving you clear signals, doing away with any games of cats and mice, and she had nearly had you.

“It’s in my nature, I suppose,” his tone falls flatter than normal, the words void of all the airiness and usual cadence he accentuates.

He still has you far more enraptured than she’d ever stood a chance of accomplishing.

“We were just heading upstairs,” you blurt out, and Astarion’s eyebrows raise at your proclamation.

“Is that so?”

You don’t quite understand why, but you feel the need to over explain yourself, painfully aware of Shadowheart’s inquisitive gaze as she watches you fumble with your words, “Yes! I- I was just telling Shadowheart how tired I’ve grown. We were just calling it a night-”

“By stealing a bottle of wine?” his tone is growing sharper, and you squirm beneath what has almost become a glare. In an instant, he’s noticing all that discomfort, and you watch the facade be built back up in real time. Brick by brick, he once again resumes his usual role, voice raising a few octaves and a dangerous smirk returning, “And stealing our dearest cleric away from such a wonderful night of celebration? Nonsense! Allow me to accompany you instead, my sweet.”

The nickname rolls off his tongue as naturally as it always does. Sugary syllables, predatory purring. It almost reels you in until you remember the give and the take. The push and the pull.

Two sides, same coin. And you’ve yet to figure out the value of that coin.

“There’s no need for that-” Shadowheart begins to protest, but Astarion quickly cuts her off with a flourish of his hand.

“Please, I insist,” even with his words lightened, sweetened up the slightest bit, that animal still lingers below the tone. Shadowheart will not be accompanying you up to the room. That much you know. “You were clearly having such a good time. It’s truly no problem, I don’t mind watching after our fearless leader.”

“I don’t need to be babysat,” you snap, reactive like a dog threatened.

Like a dog cornered.

Yes, that was what you were. A rapid animal, backed up into a space, given no choice. Your heart was racing at the idea of being alone with Astarion. It was no longer a game of mental chess played across a busy tavern – it would be just you, just him, and all those terrible layers you had yet to decipher. It was a recipe for disaster. It was the perfect storm brewing, set for the destruction of you.

“I won’t be babysitting you, dear,” he smiles, and it looks more like a hungered sneer than a sign of genuinity, “Simply there, at your service, for whatever you may need.

I need you to leave me alone. I need our journey to be over so I can stop being your puppet to string along.

You wonder if the thought may have traveled over the tadpole bond and that was why his face falls, rather than your stubborn silence.

For a moment, you think Shadowheart is going to speak up. That possibly, she might just fight back against him, save you from the impending doom. But when her mouth opens, you hear the last possible thing you could have ached to have fallen from her lips.

“I… suppose I’ll be on my way then. Have a good night.”

Defeat.

It wraps around your name as she whispers it before she stands from her stool, unassuming to all your silent signals begging her to stay. Footsteps echoing over the commotion around you as she turns her back, and you feel the walls of this corner drawing in on you.

“I-” you start when you finally look back to Astarion, but he’s already reaching out to grab you.

“She’ll get over it,” he says harshly, pulling you along as if you were nothing. As though you weren’t digging your heels into the creaking floorboards below, as if you weren’t resisting him with every fiber of your being.

“Astarion- stop, I’m- I’m not worried about her,” you stutter out, cursing the way your voice falters, tugging against his grip on you, “Gods, why do you do that?”

The question has him halting at the foot of the stairs. The shadows encase the two of you as his eyes glow in the subtle darkness.

“Do what?”

“This.”

You wave your free hand in the space between the two of you wildly, as though that might suffice for explanation. But when Astarion only levels you with a blank stare, you know it won’t. You know it doesn’t.

“You pull me along, you push me away,” you continue, heart still racing wildly, breaths coming out short and fast, “You treat me like something special and then discard me, and the moment I seek out that genuine treatment from someone else, you’re back to collect me as your own personal play toy. I want to know why.”

For all the exasperation you feel, there’s a pride beneath it all. The pride of being able to articulate, the smugness of assuming you’ve left him speechless. You haven’t.

Today is not one of the days in which you can beat him at his own game.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he claims, chin lifting just an inch, eyes flitting towards the ceiling before making their way to the bar scene behind you. Anywhere but you. “I’ve done no such thing-”

“Bullshit,” you spit out, “Bull-fucking-shit. You’ve done it numerous times, Astarion. Do you not recall the night in which Gale had approached me, offering to teach me about the Weave, and how you’d interrupted-”

“Our dearest wizard would have bored you to death. It was a mercy to interject.”

“-or the night of the tiefling party, when Karlach had been on the verge of confessing something that seemed an awful lot like an admittance of liking me-”

“Karlach likes everyone. Have you seen the eyes she makes at Wyll?”

“-And how about the time when Lae’zel openly invited me to share a bed with her, and you’d overheard, and obnoxiously guffawed? Hm? What’s your excuse there?”

Finally, his grip has slackened on your wrist, allowing you to pull both arms tightly across your chest as you glare at him. Chest still heaving, mind still reeling.

He clearly doesn’t have a very good answer as his lips twitch briefly into a pathetic smile, fading quickly as he shrugs, “Well, I simply found the entire image conjured amusing.”

Your heart nearly stops, leaving your chest as empty a cavern as Astarion’s, “You find the image of someone wanting me, wanting to lay with me, amusing?”

And for all he plays dumb, Astarion is not a fool.

He catches the fall in your demeanor, the way your arms slowly drop and your entire face contorts with your frown. Damage has been done.

“No, wait, I-” he tries to begin damage control, but the damage has been done.

“Save it,” you cut him off, “I’m going upstairs now. You can continue on your moping down here in the shadows – I don’t need a babysitter.”

He almost looks as defeated as Shadowheart had when he’d intervened for a second, a second just long enough that you begin taking the long strides up the stairs. You think you’ve gotten the last word, for that eternity of a second. Making it all the way to the first platform, turning to take on the second set of stairs.

When suddenly, your back is flat against the wall behind you, a cold body pressed against the entirety of yours.

“I do not find it amusing,” Astarion huffs, those beady eyes suddenly staring right into yours, lips dangerously close to your own. The defeat has been long forgotten, “The image of you with the others – entranced by Gale’s magic, giggling by the fire with Karlach, on your knees for Lae’zel – is not amusing,” his hands are tight on your hips, bruising grip keeping you pinned with no escape. His body rolls, every inch of his clothed skin beginning to press against your own, “You, laying with anyone else, is the farthest thing from amusing, darling.”

His head tilts in warning, forehead nearly pressed to yours, the end of his nose bumping against yours. You can feel every unnecessary breath he takes. Every huff of his sudden irritation invades your space, and all you can do is attempt to turn your head.

One of his hands is quick to reach up, pinching your chin between his thumb and pointer. You want to look away, but he won’t allow it.

“Would you like to know the truth?”

A loaded question. A ticking time bomb when it comes to this game between the two of you.

You decide to set the fuse aflame when you nod your stiff head against his pinching grip.

“The truth is,” he takes a deep breath, one you know he doesn’t need. He’s sucking all the air out of the room, air he has no need for, before his heavy eyes pour into yours. You’re blinded, all visions of red and smoky warning signs, the chatter of the tavern faded to nothing, “the image of you laying with anyone else absolutely infuriates me.”

Anyone else.

You open your mouth to respond, not even sure what you could possibly say to that, but it’s Astarion’s lips on yours that kills all words on your tongue.

There are no witnesses. Not a single soul below can see as he all but devours you, hungry lips melding to yours in desperation. The shadows he had been taunted for haunting for the night now serve as a veil, allowing you to cling to what’s left of your dignity. If anything, it feels as though he might be controlling the shadows, beckoning them to come and wrap the two of you up as his arm sneaks behind your back, pulling your body tightly to his as he chooses to steal the breath directly from your lungs now.

The push, the pull – the coin. The value, it seems, is finally coming to light.

Through the kiss, you can feel the damnation of all the emotions Astarion must have been holding back for the journey. All the want, all the yearning, all the anger, all the confusion – every single emotion you’ve been battling, breaking the surface as his fangs nip at your bottom lip.

It takes more willpower than you’d expected to shove him away.

“Astarion-” you gasp out, taking gulps of air into your burning lungs.

“Tell me to walk away,” he begs, body still aligned with yours, hands still clinging to you, “Tell me to leave you alone, and this time, I’ll obey.”

Your tongue can’t move. The depths of his whispers, his pleads, are ringing in your bones, and you can’t say the words he asks of you.

“Say it,” he presses on, his fingers only digging deeper into your hips. You can’t tell if they’ve gone numb from the chill of his fingers, or from the lack of circulation due to his strength, “Just say it, and I’ll do it. Say anything. I’m yours to command.”

You should tell him to walk away. You should call off the game of cat and mouse. You should save what’s left of your soul for someone else, anyone else, who won’t send your head spinning with a plethora of mixed signals.

“Room. Now.”

Of course, you don’t.

The game was never one-sided. It was never you, a merciful victim of Astarion, always trapped in his shadows. It’s a game for two – and you’ve earned your blame in it all, the same as Astarion.

And you continue to earn it as your hands tangle up in the snowy curls at the nape of his neck, silvery strands slipping between aching knuckles, lips attaching themselves to his porcelain skin as he guides you up that final flight of stairs. You’re not thinking of Shadowheart, not thinking of anything delicate or soft. Harsh clashes of teeth, harsh bites to rebuttal his fangs against you, harsh fingers digging into soft meat, harsh red lines left behind across his skin that fade away too quickly for your liking.

Harsh, harsh, harsh.

All your tensions and frustrations are put into the meshing, and you hardly notice once Astarion’s gotten the two of you through the threshold of the shared room. Everyone else is still downstairs, still celebrating, still cheersing and chatting away. Completely unaware of your demise. Oblivious to what’s about to happen.

Anyone else.

It’s been a long time coming.

You can see flashes of it in your mind as he carries you with him, door locked behind his back before he’s finding one of the vacated beds to lay you down onto. The night you’d discovered his vampiric nature, the night you had been his mirror with his scars, all the times in which he’d blatantly saved your ass during fights. The blurry figure that is your savior, conveniently getting between you and goblins or shadows alike as he buries his daggers to the hilt. Always there, always watching.

Always yearning.

Your heads sing in tune as that tadpole connection comes to life, like an exposed nerve as you feel it all reciprocated from him tenfold. Flashes of yourself, with soft eyes and gentle words. Patient palms and charming smiles. A pulling gravity so grandiose that it sparks sheer fear.

The room is quiet save for your gasps every time Astarion’s lips leave yours long enough to allow for breathing, the ruffling of clothing and bed sheets filling the air soon enough. Just quiet enough you can hone in on that fear, dig your claws into it instead of his back, focused entirely on following it all the way down.

More memories of his overriding yours. His exposure of Cazador, his admittance of his past. All the trust he put into you – all the faith he’d blindly handed over to you on a silver platter, only reminiscing and regretting once he was left to his own devices at the end of the day.

And then came the jealousy.

You’d already felt enough of it through his kisses and movements – the way he pins your body beneath his, the way his fangs graze your exposed neck – but it nearly drowns you once the connection has opened the floodgates.

The image of you and Gale, and a twist in your gut like no other. Incomparable to even vampiric hunger.

The image of you and Lae’zel, and a burn in the back of your throat that drives you beyond reason.

The glimpse of you and Karlach, and the urgency rising in your chest to simply stop it. To pull the brakes, not once considering the consequences.

Every small moment between you and someone else – companions, strangers, those who have helped along the way – is given to you from Astarion’s point of view. You feel all that he has felt; you burn as he has burned.

You feel a glimmer of understanding, a pitiful ounce of sympathy, but then you remember all that you have felt. All that confusion, all that unsureness. Every time you’ve had to question the glances the vampire offers in your direction or double back on his words.

He’d done it to himself. You had to remember that – he’d done it to himself every single step of the way.

“You could have said something,” you whisper out as his lips travel down the path of your neck, sharp tips of his fangs pressing to your pulse but not quite breaking skin, “You could have just told me.”

He’s lithe as a cat above you, each scrap of clothing being removed between the two of you exposing more of your bare flesh to the chill of his. You can feel all those muscles beneath his surface, and you can feel the hesitation as you say this. The freeze – the pause.

“You make it sound so simple.”

The fangs scrape at your jugular as he whispers it, mouth shaking as he uses all his self-constraint to not simply bite down. Taste your sweet blood, let it sing on his tongue rather than this conversation you can tell is setting fire to all his anxieties. He doesn’t want to talk.

You’re not even sure if you want to talk.

But you do, with the weight of him between your hips and his hands dancing along your torso. Your head is thrown back as you sigh, “It could be.”

It could be simple, it could have been simple this entire time, if only he’d allow it.

He’s had you dancing beneath his spell since the moment you’d met him. You had offered yourself over to him, time and time again, knowing all the costs. Despite the warnings from others, and despite all the sirens sounding off in your head every time your eyes had met his, you’d still pined. Still fantasized what this current moment might taste like as you’d lay in your tent at night, still chased after his attention across Faerun. If he had just directly said the word rather than stringing you along, burning in private – you would have been his far sooner than now. He could have had you in the palm of his hands long before he’d ever spotted the Gate of the city.

He has you now, though. Entirely encapsulated, bending to every whim of his fingertips.

A flick of his wrist, and you’re exposing more of your neck. A nudge of his knee, and you’re arching your back to press more of yourself against him. Offering your skin, offering your soul, offering your blood. A silent temptation for him to simply devour you whole; a silent begging to not complicate things more than what was necessary.

You had both been in the wrong. He had sent mixed signals, and you had been complicit in your own silence.

And right now, you weren’t particularly in the mood to rehash and reassign blame.

“Show me how simple it could be,” his voice is muffled against your skin, lips velvet against your pulse. It nearly frustrates you – was that not what you were currently doing? Were you not proving to him just how easily he could unravel you with those cold, cold palms? “Go ahead, darling. Prove me wrong.”

You’re not the one meant to take an action, though. Your hands fly up, fisting at his white curls, and you apply pressure to let him sink deeper into your skin, but you’re not the one who can break the barrier.

It’s him that must – his fangs must do it. The first bite, the smallest of sips.

Your blood trickles past his lips and you let out a sigh. As if this was what you were waiting for, as if this was all that it took. Your vitality draining slowly to invigorate him, your breath becoming his, your heart now beating for both of you.

He must feel it. He must taste it.

The simple entanglement of the living and unliving. How simple it was to become his.

You swear you only allow your heart to race as it does to encourage your blood to pump faster onto his eager tongue. He laps at it, hums at the taste, his grip on you becoming stronger with each pass of the ichor. Each passing second with his mouth glued to the side of your neck isn’t marked with the tick of a clock, but the roll of his hips, and your own desperate legs shaking in those precious moments between, cursed to choose between tightening shut around his hips or spreading wider to encourage more of him to occupy you.

Just as you start to feel light-headed, he pulls back. Wide and vibrant scarlet eyes boring into yours, fangs tinged pink with you poking against his bottom lip.

The tadpole connection has gone silent. Not due to either of you cutting it off entirely, but due to the lack of thoughts transpiring. Both your minds have gone quiet, and all that’s left is the warm buzz of knowing you’re connected. Static that you can feel at the back of your head, running down your spine, all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

Simple. Mind-numbingly simple.

You can feel the spark of something snapping after only a few moments of eye-contact, and you know it’s the ember that blazes within him as his next few actions transpire. Messy kisses leaving behind a trail of pink spit along your skin, hands no longer grappling at you mindlessly but with intention. He slips them between your thighs, a finger trailing down your cunt in time with his tongue down your sternum. What might be a memorized dance to him has become an entirely unknown experience to you, body buzzing with the novelty when his fingertip’s cool caress circles your clit before he slips down to your hole. It’s seamless – the stretch, the crook of his knuckle against you as he sinks deeper, the relief in the curl of your toes.

“You’re not another mindless dance,” he murmurs as he sinks deeper and lower, an unnecessary breath escaping him across your lower abdomen.

He’d heard it. He’d heard all of your thoughts at the moment.

You peer down at the ethereal sight of him between your thighs, his hair and mouth seemingly shimmering with all the stars and moon itself, “No?”

“No,” his voice is strong as he lets the tip of his nose press against you, mouth creeping closer to where two fingers now pump within you, “You’re not like the others.”

He doesn’t elaborate, even as the haunting question of who the others might be echoes within you. He completely distracts you as his fingers slip from your cunt and his tongue begins its work, worshiping you with every flick of it. Nose, tongue, breath – they all work in conglomeration as the unraveling truly begins. Every ounce of you is tensing, combating all the relief of having his mouth on you, as he pushes you closer and closer to a precipice you’ve only dreamed of him guiding you to.

The suckle of his lips. The cut of his fangs when he gets a bit too excited. The lap of a tongue like a dog worshiping at your altar. It’s all almost a bit much.

When your hands travel to entangle in his hair, you can feel the hesitation. For a moment, you believe he might reach up to take your touch away. Force you to grasp at the bed sheets, at the edge of the mattress, at the frame above your head. Anywhere but him.

But he doesn’t.

The pause only lasts a few seconds before he’s returning to his mitigations, even more intent than before. Words that could never be spoken between the two of you take the shape of his lips around your clit, sucking almost as hard as he had at your neck. An animal seemingly overtakes him, his mouth not leaving you for the mortal necessity of breathing, but rather for something harsher; he breaks away only for his fingers to slide back within you, and immediately takes to biting at your thighs.

It isn’t like he had done to your neck. This time, he’s not chasing after your blood. Nips and fuller bites, not just his sharpened canines sinking into fletch but his front teeth as well.

These aren’t bites to drink from you. These are bites to claim you.

He lines your legs with them, scattered sporadically as he shifts himself up and down. From the apex of your thigh down to your ankle, there’s hardly an inch of your skin that doesn’t paint with Astarion’s touch. The bite marks, lingering outlines of his hands clinging to your flesh, patient hickies left throughout.

You’re mine.

The message is clear enough whether you had seen it in his actions, or if he had sent it through the bond. You understand well what point he is making.

The point stands stronger and stronger when he works his way back up your body. He offers your hips the same worshiping treatment, leaves his imprints across your chest as well. A few marks brand your shoulders and neck, matching the two pricks that started this entire devourment.

“Do you have any idea of the hold you have upon me?” he sighs out as he holds himself above your body, hovering just close enough that your skin jumps as the skin of his abdomen brushes your own, “Our entire journey, I have been so focused on… on freedom, on abandoning the concept of ever being controlled…” he trails off, and when he looks into your eyes this time, you can see something clicking into place. A fearsome realization. “Only to end up in the thralls of your beck and call.”

You hold your breath and await the inevitable. This is the part where he runs. Where he removes his flesh from yours, where he jumps across the room and surely spits out some sarcastic remark. It’s the time in which he is meant to break all the hope that had been built over the minutes spent alone. He’ll make some nonchalant remark, or a crude joke, and he’ll go make eyes at some other poor fool below. He’ll cast his spell over someone else, anyone else. He’ll leave you, wanting and yearning and hopeless, once more.

His body stays above yours, the thin fabric of space shaking between you two.

With a trembling hand, warm against his skin, you take a chance, “I’m not your master, Astarion.”

You aren’t.

You have no desire to control him the way he describes. You would curse the day should you ever become something even comparable to being a placeholder for Cazador. He isn’t telling you anything new; you’ve known his end goal of this entire journey. Astarion has always wanted one thing and one thing only – freedom.

And you thought you’d been helping him. Following him blindly through the woes, helping him achieve his ultimate goal wholeheartedly. Never for a single second had you assumed the role he’s seemingly given you.

A short laugh escapes him, the smallest of smiles flitting his face, “No. No, you aren’t. And that only enthralls me further.”

His lips descend upon yours in a fervent fashion, even more desperate than before. It feels as if he’s actually trying to devour you whole this time – it feels as though he might actually accomplish melding you into his existence, sinking you right into the marrow of his hollow bones.

When his cock sinks into your heat, it’s ecstasy. Euphoria. Everything you’ve been wishing for. Everything you’d been hoping for. You stretch around him, just as you had his fingers, body eager to take in every last inch of him. The buzz becomes a roar and your entire body feels as though it might be on fire. You want more, you need more, and he’s more than willing to give it.

More, more, more.

His hips roll agonizingly slow against yours, making sure every movement is felt across every nerve ending within your body. Deep within your gut, down along your thighs, all the way up your chest. You feel him everywhere – he makes sure of it.

Centuries, his voice curls through your mind like dark smoke. For centuries, this body has felt tainted. Never quite mine, never quite clean.

His hands are shaking as he lets them caress down your sides, over your hips, clinging for support.

You take that feeling away.

The words are heavy, the press of his chest over you heavier. Your own hands wander, and you make a point to avoid the scars on his back. The ones hardly deciphered, the ones that have tied him to a fate you refuse to let him succumb to. No amount of jealousy, no amount of spite, can reverse that ardent decision within your mind.

You’re not an old coat, Astarion. You whisper it back, along the bond, your physical mouth gaping wide open as you tilt your head back into the pillow, feeling yourself tighten around him. You’re not a worn pair of boots. You’re a person.

A terrible mon-

You cut off his rebuttal, a complicated person. Snarky, indecisive, too flirtatious for your own good. But still a person, and still worthy.

Two simple words, and they send shudders through his entire body. Still worthy. You don’t look at him as something to be discarded or owned; you don’t envision him as a prize or a trophy. And you certainly don’t see only his flaws when you look at him. When his ruby eyes meet yours, both his and your own eyelashes flutter ridiculously as all the pressure mounts, the blush of your blood across his cheeks and running down his throat, you both know. You don’t need to put it into words.

Even when he infuriated you. Even when he made you second-guess his companionship in the beginning. Even when he made you swoon like a schoolgirl only to divert his attention. Never once have you fully faulted him for the mistakes.

He’s done bad things. You’ve all done terrible things. And yet, you still want him.

He’s worth more than the sum of his worst moments, even if he hadn’t bedded you tonight. You would still help slay Cazador. You would still fight tooth and claw for his freedom.

You love him. You hate him. You hate to love him, you love to hate him. It’s all smoke and mirrors at the end of the day when you’re feeling the weight of him collapse on top of you. And it’s mutual. The complicated, infuriating emotions are all reciprocated.

Every inch of your skin stings with the lingerance of his fangs and lips, gasps and mews slipping between your lips as he picks up his pace. His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs and hips in a failing attempt to pull your body back to his, the reciprocation languid in every stroke. Every slap of his skin against yours, every moan of his own – they mingle in the air and spell out the inevitability of this moment. You swear you feel his sharp nails nick you, a bead of blood no doubt bubbling and staining the sheets below.

You don’t care. He doesn’t, either.

Your whine echoes through the empty room right along with a harsh grunt from him. He’s ravaging you. Bruising you inside and out.

“Fuck, Astarion,” you gasp out, giving up using the bond. Your mind has melted far too much for coherent thoughts as both your breaths quicken, both abdomens tightening as you feel him reach even deeper inside your cunt, “Fuck.”

You can feel him letting go just as it feels as though your body might give out. Blissful soreness hidden behind a curtain of pleasure that turns your vision white. You almost wonder if your body had been simply a vessel for his own pleasure this entire time.

You wouldn’t mind if it had been, but he’s made damn sure it isn’t.

You’ve never felt quite as cared for as when his hips stutter, feeling warmth fill your fluttering cunt as his open mouth places random kisses anywhere they can reach. His head falls to the crook of your neck and you can feel his tired lips pressing repetitively over your marked neck, your shoulder. They even graze the original bite mark, and the simple action sends shockwaves through you to join the rest of the residual quakes that keep your legs shaking around his waist.

The bedlinen sticks to your skin from a mixture of blood and sweat as he collapses next to you for a moment, still curling up to you like a cat. Nose running along your bare shoulder, lips still reaching out for you.

It takes you a second, but when you finally catch your breath, you can’t help but ask the dreaded question, “Does this mean you’re officially mine?”

His chuckle is unexpected, vibrating against your chest as he rolls most of his weight off you and lifts his head, “Have I not made that much obvious?”

“I just needed to make sur-”

He cuts off all your hesitation, lifting the entirety of his upper body now, “Allow me to make this very clear to you, darling. I have been yours since the moment you reacted to me holding a dagger to your throat with a damned headbutt.”

You smile sheepishly, “So you’re telling me when I did that… I knocked some sense into you?”

“Never,” he scoffs, waving a hand, the only sign of his own fatigue to match yours being the way he drops back down at your side. You don’t miss the faint smile gracing his lips, “But it was an impressive move. Quite enchanting for this old heart of mine.”

“So now you admit that you’re old?” you joke, prodding at an inside joke that had been ongoing since he’d admitted the entirety of his vampiric nature to you. He’d always pouted like a child at any mention of his age, but he’d always allowed only you to get away with any jabs at it. Your entire group still doesn’t speak of his reaction to Gale trying his hand at one of the jokes, “Goodness, what has gotten into you, my Star?”

He flushes at the nickname, eyes diverting as he slowly creeps his body up the bed, face to face with you now. Your heart tightens a bit when he takes his time replying, swallowing hard, tongue peeking out instinctively as he runs it over his lips and fangs slowly.

You almost believe he won’t look you in the eyes again, but he does. As he says the heaviest words yet, he looks to you as if you’re the only thing in the room for this moment.

“I care for you,” his voice comes out tight, nearly strained. “Deeply. You make me want to be… a better… man, monster, whatever I might be. And if that’s a crime?” he pauses, and takes another one of those pesky deep breaths that you’re well aware aren’t vital to him. A glimmer of the human, the person, beneath the self-proclaimed monster. “Well, I haven’t been much of a rule follower thus far in our journey anyways, have I?”

You pay no mind to his joking tone, seeing the words for what they are. Your hand reaches up, fingers carding through silver waves, and you can’t help your grin when he doesn’t swat you away as he had done Shadowheart for the exact same show of affection the week before.

I adore you, Astarion.

Quiet words. Silent words. Only for the two of you, within the confines of a shared mine.

He clears his throat uncomfortably, “Mind you, I may need some time, given all the memories this wretched city brings-”

“Take all the time you need,” you interrupt. From the second he’d opened up to you, offering that vulnerability in the heat of the moment regarding his body, you’d seen this coming. “I can wait for you, my love. Let’s just focus on surviving all this, yeah?”

He can’t hide his affection. It’s written plainly on his face, it travels clearly across the bond.

“Yes,” he whispers back, reaching for your wrist finally, but only to hold it placid as he turns his lips towards it. You think for a moment he might bite you one final time, and you’d let him, but he surprises you. No fangs appear – only the softest of kisses against the most vulnerable of skin. “Survival. Of course.”

It’s not so much words as it is an image, a promise, that comes to mind from him. The fluttering of a future he sees being possible, the threat of a city burned down should any harm come to you.

“And no more jealousy,” you croak out, trying to not be overwhelmed by his own emotions mixing with yours. “You’re mine, and I’m yours.”

Another kiss to your wrist, this one far quicker, far more habitual than the first. He’s kissing you simply because he can.

You know there’s more behind his smile when he whispers, “Oh, of course, lover.”

And you find out later on the reason for such a mischievous smile, once he’s cleaned you both up and migrated for you two to rest in his claimed bed. When Shadowheart is the first of the group to enter the room, confronted with the image of you curled up on Astarion’s chest as his fingers dance over your aching skin, you don’t even have to wake up properly to see the vision of a smug Astarion through your dreary eyes.

Words are exchanged, but they’re lost to you in your sleepy state. You only catch the ones that matter.

“Astarion! Are those bite marks-”

“Mine?” if you were any more conscious, you would have scolded him. He knows it, too, as he squeezes you closer to him, “Why, yes. Yes, they are, our dearest Shadowheart.”

Shadowheart’s huff of breath tells you all you need to know about Astarion’s smirk. You’ll talk more of jealousy in the morning.

#ghost's writing #kinktober #week 1: vampiric desires #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion smut #astarion x tav

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whirlybirbs · 3 months ago

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i am on my hands and knees begging for a shred of keigo takami baby bird kfc angel content from you, if you write hawks i will finally know true peace

— MEET & GREET ; 1 / 2 ; HAWKS ; 啓悟

summary: you manage to snag two VIP meet & greet tickets for your nephew's birthday. he insists you join him. part one of two. pairing: keigo takami ; hawks / f!reader word count: 3.1k tags: humor, meet-cute, pro hero culture, birbs ignores all relevant timelines yet again, fluff, phone-flirting, hawks is great with kids, t+, relatable pre-hook up hesitation, they will fuck next time a/n: hawks is the chappell roan of the mha universe. stop touching him. this man actually changed my brain chemistry in early 2023 but we don't need to talk about that. anways, this poll was on the ropes all day and i made the executive choice to feed the hawks birblets.

You feel like your face has been set in a semi-permanent cringe all morning.

In your right hand, you're clutching your half-finished iced coffee for dear life. In your other, you're clinging to your nephew as he drags you through the convention center — one of the bright red wings of his beloved, homemade cosplay has started to go lopsided, and the six-year-old excitedly tugs it back in place as he tries to yank you forward.

"C'mon! We're gonna be late!"

This really wasn't your scene.

Fan conventions had a way of making your skin itch. The amount of sexy All Mights you've seen this morning alone has to be some sort of milestone indicator for the environment. Whether nature is healing or dying, though, you have no idea.

If you had it your way, you'd spend the rest of the day mingling through the artist stalls — but, to your nephew Hayami's point, the two of you had somewhere to be.

Your VIP meet-and-greet badge swings as you trip up and laugh. "Okay! Okay, slow down! You're about to yank my arm off!"

It was the best birthday gift imaginable for Hayami. You officially cemented your title as The Coolest Aunt Ever when you managed to snag the two VIP convention meet-and-greet tickets (complete with a professional photo and two signed copies of the convention's annual poster) after a harrowing seven hours in an online Ticketmaster line. There were only a hundred of them sold — and sure, you coulda thrown that pretty hunk of cash into a college fund for Hayami, but he was deeply in his hero phase.

Originally you expected that Hayami's father, your brother-in-law, would want to go.

But, no, Hayami himself insisted you come with him.

After all, you helped me with my costume, he begged, I wouldn't have been able to do it without you!

That you did. Many a hot glue gun burn was suffered at the hands of those damn red feathers. If you squint from far away, the cosplay isn't half bad considering the thrift and dollar-store materials. It wasn't one of those inch-to-inch replicas, but it worked.

He's like a cute, bouncing mini Hawks. Complete with goggles and wings.

And Hayami is happy. And that's all that matters to you.

The line is already pretty long, and Hayami runs his gloved hands along the line barriers as he races to his spot, audibly wooshing the whole way — just like Hawks does, probably. His badge jingles, and he hops to a stop as you come up behind him and pat his head. The six-year-old stands up on his tippy-toes, trying to see around the Miss Midnight fan in front of them.

"Can you see him?" he chatters excitedly, "Ti, can you?"

He's called you Ti ever since he could speak. Auntie was too long, and the shortened version has stuck.

You hop up onto your tippy-toes, mimicking him — and you swear you catch a glimpse of a crimson feather plumage over the gathered heads of the other meet-and-greet fans. It might be another cosplayer.

"I dunno," you whisper, your eyes darting to your phone's lock screen, "It's supposed to start any minute—"

The telltale roar of fanfare lets you know exactly who has just arrived.

Hayami's excitement is palpable. Without a word, you're hauling him up and perching him on your shoulders. His hands land in your hair, and you can feel his smile from down here.

"Ti! It's him!"

The line starts moving not long after, and you finish your iced coffee while Hayami stays perched on your shoulders, utterly starstruck. You weave through the barriers, moving up a few feet every minute, until you're only four or five people away from where Hawks sits behind a long table.

You have to admit, the guy is pretty cute.

Cuter than the fan-cams make him out to be, even.

Sandy blonde hair, sharp gold eyes, and big wings. There's no doubt in your mind he's showboating, but as people approach the table, you notice this hesitant twitch ripple through the red feathers every time someone gets a little too close.

That cringe from earlier washes over your face again as a girl reaches over the table to roughly run her fingers across one of his flight feathers.

It's Keigo's least favorite part of all this.

I mean, there's a part of him that gets it. He's the #2 Hero in all of Japan. He's a big deal. He's top of the popularity polls, he's the people's bird, y'know? He's a marketed commodity that sells out each and every time.

But, that doesn't mean he likes being touched.

Especially the wings. Hands off the wings.

"Hey, Hayami?" you ask, tilting your head up as you both step forward.

You can feel the sudden nervousness creeping up on Hayami as he nods and looks down at you. "Y-Yea?"

"Make sure you ask for permission if you touch his wings, okay?" you say gently, muscling him down from your shoulders and doing a once over on his mini-Hawks cosplay, "And remember to tell him your name!"

Hayami nods, his nerves palpable as he realizes the two of you are next.

On instinct, his hand shoots out and grips yours for dear life.

And then, one of the marketers waves the two of you forward.

The first word that comes to Keigo's mind is MILF. You're cute. Real cute. Definitely not the usual sort he meets at conventions, and definitely not the usual sort that buys a ticket to his meet-and-greets. The kid clinging to your arm is arguably even cuter, and Hawks can't hide the blooming grin on his face when the pair of you step forward.

"Woa-ho!" he yaps from behind the patterned table, "Dude! Nice outfit!"

Hayami is panicking. You can tell from his shocked silence as the two of you step forward. You bend at the knees, squatting to your nephew's height, then encourage him to go ahead, go on. His big, brown eyes bob from you to Hawks.

"Go ahead, Hayami," you encourage softly, "Say hi."

Oh, shit. You're really cute. Is this your kid? Nah, no way. You're way too young to be his mom. Unless—

You've seriously got him weighing the pros and cons of step-fatherhood and he doesn't even know your name.

He could do stepdad shit at twenty-six. Right?

"Hi, Mr. Hawks," comes the shy voice of the mini Hawks before him; the sandy blonde's chest clenches.

This is too fuckin' cute.

"Heh, hey kid," he chirps back, leaning forward on the table as his mouth curves into a friendly grin; Hawks' eyes are trained on the kid's growing smile, "What's your name?"

"H-Hayami."

"It's cool t' meetcha, Hayami," Hawks parrots as your own proud smile grows. There's relief flooding your shoulders. Thank god, Hayami didn't choke the clutch moment, "I like your wings, lil' dude!"

Hayami gives a little turn, wiggling his prized, handmade possession. His confidence is building; the compliment lights the kid's cheeks up.

"My aunt helped me make them!" Hayami chatters, his eyes brightening from behind the flight goggles strapped to his head, "She says I need to ask for your permission to touch your feathers!"

Keigo's gold eyes slip to your face. You give him an apologetic grimace, your eyes flicking to the girl beyond the VIP area still screaming about how she touched him, she touched Hawks, oh my god. You mouth out a silent apology.

Hawks' finds himself a little speechless. Doesn't happen often.

He's not used to having some say in how he's objectified and consumed.

A sandy brow quirks as he pushes his yellow-tinted visor up, and into his hair. He seems shocked. It's not an expression you've seen on the #2 before — and in the last few weeks, you've seen plenty of Hawks content during Hayami's cosplaying journey. The reference material is pretty expansive.

"That's real considerate, chickadee — I appreciate that," his voice is soft; his smile is a little looser, "C'mere, Hayami, you wanna hold a feather while I sign your poster?"

This is, like, the best day of Hayami's life.

Hawks brings his visor back down.

You stand to full height, wringing your purse's strap, watching Hayami hold both hands out as one of the delicate pieces of plumage floats into his hands on command. He cradles it like treasure, his big brown eyes glimmering with new-found amazement.

You step forward, and place a hand on Hayami's shoulder as he gently ushers his hands toward your face. "Ti, look, isn't this, like, the coolest thing ever — it's one of Hawks' feathers!"

Hawks' eyes flick up to the two of you as his pen darts across the two VIP package posters. There's a smirk on his face as he pays half attention to the task of signing.

And scribbling his number on the back of one.

"I see that," you chuckle, leaning in to inspect the beautiful, crimson feather, "Make sure you say th—"

Before you finish your sentence, the very feather in question darts up to tickle the tip of your nose. Your immediate reaction is to scrunch your nose and grin. It's not so much ticklish as it is gentle. For good measure, Hawks gives Hayami a little brush on the cheek, too. The boy descends into delighted laughter, allowing the feather to zip back through the air and into its designated place in his wings.

Hawks is smirking.

"Alright you two," comes the level voice of the marketer; the camera in her hands is bulky, and a signifier that their time meeting #2 is nearly up, "Let's get in nice and close for a photo!"

The table proves to be a bit of a pain, but you bend down to Hayami's height as Hawks leans over the table and gives you both bunny ears. The camera flash burns bright in your eyes as Hayami's hand darts into yours again.

"Here you two go," Hawks rumbles easily; he's standing now, and you find yourself yet again struck by how handsome he is. He smells like summer air and some expensive cologne you'll probably never know the name of. Definitely one of his sponsors.

You take both posters, as Hayami's excitement seems to overflow and he's nearly buzzing with excitement to know he has Hawks' autograph. The boy bounces at your heels as he clutches his signed copy of the annual convention poster. His big, brown eyes are wide with pure joy.

"Thank you!" Hayami chatters, "You're the best, Hawks!"

"Thank you," you smile, taking your own poster as Hayami's hand rockets back into yours.

"Nah, it's nothin', chickadee. Thanks for the manners," he calls after you with a touch of good humor, "You're real sweet."

"No problem!" you stutter out, thrown entirely by the compliment, as one of the other marketers guides you towards the exit with a hand on your back.

"Oh, hey! One last thing!"

You flick your eyes back over your shoulder as you're shuffled out of the meet-and-greet.

You watch Hawks mouth 'check the poster', and with a hand held up to the side of his face. Then, 'call me'.

"You're kidding me."

Hayami is finally asleep — and your sister is closing the door to his darkened bedroom as she hisses the words out. You're leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed and looking entirely exasperated.

"I can't just call him," you say softly as you kick off the wall and follow her into the kitchen, "This isn't, like, the hot waiter who leaves his number on the receipt—"

"No, it's even better," she chatters, moving towards the unfinished glass of wine that sits on the dinner table, "I swear to god if you don't pick up that phone and call him right now—"

It's your brother-in-law who speaks up from the couch. "What's stopping you?"

"I don't know, being chronically single?" you cry as you throw your hands, "I haven't gotten a wax in months—"

"You seriously think #2 cares?" comes your sister's flat reply.

Your brother-in-law mimics her affectation. He throws a finger in the air. "Real heroes don't care."

The two of them high-five.

...They're probably right.

You suck your teeth as you cross your arms again and weigh your options.

I mean — it's only eight o'clock. It's early. And it's a Friday.

It could go two ways — you break your year-long dry spell with the #2 pro-hero in the country, or it's a total bust and he turns out to be a massive weirdo. Both are frankly pretty entertaining.

You chew your lip.

Then, you decide.

You kick off the wall and move towards your phone in the kitchen. It's sitting beside the poster.

"Oh my god, are you doing it?" your sister calls from the couch, her hand gripping her husband's arm tightly.

"I'm doing it," you say, ignoring the bite of nervousness in your hands as you type in the cell number that was scrawledhastily on the back of the poster.

"Ohmygod."

It's ringing.

Suddenly, you have an audience. Your sister and brother-in-law are crowding you, their faces wide and expectant as it continues to ring. You pull your thumb to your mouth, pushing your bottom lip between your teeth. You let it ring, and ring, and just when you settle that you're being sent to voicemail, there's a click and a voice.

"'Ello?"

Your sister slams her hand into her husband's back, the two of them scrambling in a sudden flash of limbs and excitement. You drag your thumb across your throat — gesturing for them to cut it out.

"Uh, hi," you fumble, "Is this... Hawks?"

Suddenly, there's a bark of laughter on the other line. "The one and only. Who's this?"

A slow smirk tugs at your cheeks. "I checked the back of the poster — a bold move, y'know."

"Convention Cutie!" he practically cheers, "Hold on, hold on — gimme two seconds, lemme just land."

Your lips part and you blink. The mental image is a hell of a thing. You swallow down a bought of amusement. "Sure, sure, take your time."

Keigo was starting to doubt you'd actually call him. The convention wrapped up hours ago, and he already made himself busy by exploring the southern city. It's nice here. A little bit like his hometown. Not too much crime, which has made for a pretty uneventful evening.

Until now.

His boots touch down on the nearby rooftop and he settles into an easy squat. His wings tuck themselves tightly against his back.

You can hear a bit of wind bristle against his end of the receiver.

"Alright, alright, sorry," he rumbles out, "Now you've got my full, undivided attention—"

You tug on your bottom lip. Your sister and brother-in-law are entirely hooked on the little bits they're overhearing from their spot across the counter. Your sister takes a long drink of her wine.

"Am I... being a bit of a distraction?" you ask, "If now isn't a good time—"

"You've been a distraction all day," comes the smooooooth reply; even Keigo's proud of himself for that one, "I'm just out for a fly. Nothin' too serious. I am glad you called, though."

Oh, fuck. Your knees feel like jello. You white-knuckle grip the counter as your sister gnashes her teeth and mimics biting her fist in silent mimery.

"Yea?" you pry, fanning yourself as you lean farther against the counter.

"Yea, definitely," Hawks grins as he tips his head back and checks out the stars, "You busy tomorrow night? I'd love to take you out to dinner."

There's a commotion across the kitchen. The two of them are smacking one another's arms, their genuine excitement is palpable as they try to stay quiet. They're failing.

"I'd love that, Hawks."

This is new for him.

Technically speaking, you're not a fan. Your nephew is. So, this doesn't technically qualify as one of those unspoken hero faux pas. Don't date fans. Then again, what does it matter? He can do whatever he wants.

And you're cute. And nice. And kind. And maybe he's being a sap, but seeing you with your nephew made something in his heart tighten. He didn't even notice he was making a nest of scrapped trash from the posters around his seat until the afternoon was over.

God, sometimes the evolutionarily deep, bird DNA thing is weird.

Hawks lets out a tight breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Cool. Okay. Uh, you... you chill with, like, 7pm?" he fiddles with his visor, "I'm... I'm free whenever so..."

He sounds nervous. Your grin is so bright it could outburn the sun.

"That works for me," you say as you fiddle with your lip, "As far as dress code goes... Do I, like, need a flight suit?"

His laugh is warm.

"No, no, I — I was gonna get us an Uber," his voice lilts into something more mischievous, "Unless..."

"Maybe after dinner," you remark easily, swaying side to side, "You can show me what those wings do?"

Oh, smooth. Real smooth. Keigo's face is warm. His wings in question twitch eagerly at the invitation.

"You gonna ask before you touch?" he teases back into the receiver, his brow raised.

It's your turn to laugh. "Hey, it's called being polite."

"I appreciate it," he rumbles out, about earlier at the convention, "Seriously. People are grabby — these things are sensitive..."

"Making a mental note of that, and filing it away," you flirt openly as your sister cheers silently, "For after dinner, maybe."

Keigo's brain stutter-steps. His laugh is surprised. He's about to comment on how you might just be the girl of his dreams when suddenly the wail of sirens perks up his attention. It's two blocks over. Three fire engines. The wind is carrying the smell of acrid smoke.

"Hey, chickadee, I, uh... I gotta go," he says, standing and allowing his attention to drift to the scene playing out in front of him; it's a house fire — must be — on the southern side of town, "I'll text you the spot for tomorrow, is that okay?"

"Of course, don't let me keep you," you hush, "I'll... text you?"

"I'm countin' on it."

"Bye, Hawks."

"See ya, chickadee."

You didn't even realize you were sweating until you put the phone down.

Your sister and her husband are there, eyes wide. "So?"

"So," you croon as you laugh and pridefully sway your hips, "I have plans tomorrow night."

Their screaming wakes up Hayami.

As you help the kid back to sleep, you keep it secret that he's a better wingman than you could have ever anticipated.

#i had a few banger one liners in this one folks #meet & greet #hawks x reader #hawks x you #hawks x y/n #hawks imagine #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami x you #keigo takami imagine #mha hawks #bnha #mha imagine #bnha imagine

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chrissv4mp · 1 month ago

Text

𝜗𝜚 SWEET DREAMS

NAVIGATION ; OCT 12 – SOMNOPHILIA

WARNINGS: SMUT, somnophilia, fingering, thigh-riding, orgasm control(?), little overstim, language.

NOTES: first day of kinktober, how do we like this little fic...???

WORDS: 1.3K

SUMMARY: Billie can't resist her urges when she wakes up, so what better than to use you like you've told her to countless times before?

TAGS: @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livialifesblog @devynscomet @her-favorite @br4ttyeilish @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @hrtsdollie @zayluvss @xoluvx

BILLIE EILISH × F!READER

Sunshine peeked through the small gaps of the blinds, shining soft, warm light onto the two of your bodies. Bodies that were still tangled from the night prior. The rays of light shone on to Billie's eyelids, disrupting her peaceful slumber as she slowly stirred awake.

Her eyelids fluttered as she strayed away from your bare body, immediately missing the warmth as her hands left your skin. She blinked a few times before waking up fully, stretching her limbs, sore from the activities of last night.

The thought alone made her smile, her cheeks flushing a light pink hue.

She softly turned her head towards you, yawning quietly as she pulled the covers above her shoulders, getting cozy once again as she watched your sleeping figure. You were face to face with her, only you were somewhere in dreamland, and she was lying next to you.

She wouldn't trade the world for this. Not even her dreams could compare to moments like these. With you. You and her alone.

A finger ran through your hair gently, careful not to wake you as she brushed it behind your ear. Her eyes carefully examined every one of your features, smiling softly at your peaceful state.

You let out a sleepy sigh, stirring in your slumber as you reached out for the very girl who caressed your hair with feather light touches. You whined quietly as you felt nothing, murmuring something until she came close and wrapped her arms around you again.

It relaxed you immediately, and that only made Billie smile wider. You nuzzled your face into the crook of her neck as you let out another sleepy sigh, your hands holding her comfortably.

Her eyes shut again, resting her head on your chest so as to get comfortable again and hopefully fall asleep. As much as she liked your quiet company, she hated being the only one awake.

"Bills.." You slur, murmuring some incoherent sentence in your sleep as you pull her body closer to yours. Your skin is hot to the touch, and it would've concerned Billie if it wasn't for the gentle grinding of your hips against her body.

Her thigh was slotted between your legs, granting you a perfect spot to grind your needy pussy against. Billie gasped quietly at the feeling of your wetness slowly gliding along her skin, shivers running down her spine and straight to her own core.

Her hand runs along your side, watching as you twitch under her touch even in your sleep. Her mind wanders, questions roaming all around in her brain. What were you dreaming of? What were you doing? What was she doing to you?

As she listens to your soft, ragged breaths, her eyes stay focused on your pussy and the way you grind against her thigh. It makes her head spin, taking her lower lip in between her teeth to stifle the moan that bubbled up in her throat.

Your hips speed up, and the way your breath slowly turns into a moan makes her insane, but she can't have you coming undone just yet. The same hand that ran down your side moves to grab your hip, halting your movement and resulting in a frustrated sigh from your sleepy being.

She sucks in a breath before her hand travels lower, removing her thigh from between your legs and switching your position. Now she hovered over you, one hand beside your head on the pillow, holding herself up, while the other traveled down your body.

Her hand gently runs across your skin, dragging down until she reaches the spot you need her most. She sucks in another breath as she runs her index finger through your wet folds, gliding through your wetness easily and just dipping the tip of her finger into you.

You stirred in your sleep, and Billie froze for a few seconds, eyes snapping towards your face again to see a more distressed, impatient look. Your eyelids flutter, and before her brain even processes what that means, she plunges her finger into your pussy.

Her lips curve into a smile as she watches your lips part in a silent gasp, eyes fluttering open slowly. She knows you're not fully awake, but still, she adds a second finger, pumping her fingers in and out of your wetness slowly.

Your breathing is uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly even though she's only just started. As you slowly slip into consciousness, the pleasurable feeling also comes in with it. The feeling is almost overwhelming, and you don't even know what to do, "Bill—Mm.."

All she does is chuckle, her eyes droopy from having just woken up a few minutes ago. Her fingers lazily thrust in and out, her pace almost torturous. No, it was torturous. And it only went on forever.

By the time you were about to break, tears streaked down your cheeks, body writhing under her touch, even the simplest ones. Her lip is tucked between her teeth, almost drawing blood as she tries to stifle her own groans. She can't keep herself together seeing you like this.

"Please—God, Billie..." You whine, voice cracking with each syllable as you throw your head back against the soft pillows, "Need it—so.. Need it s'bad, Mommy..!"

Her breath catches in her throat as she hears you speak. It wasn't like you hadn't called her the name countless times before. It just hit her by surprise this early in the morning. Her fingers picked up their pace, slamming into you sloppily.

"Not yet." She breathes, her eyes wild. She can't take her eyes off the way your pussy sucks her in so willingly, your walls swallowing her digits so smoothly. Her mind was running wild.

As you paw at the sheets, she glances into your eyes, "Don't." She all but growls, the authority in her voice almost scary as you nod the best you can, swallowing harshly.

Her fingers curl up against your g-spot, and your back arches away from the mattress, eyes rolling back into your head as you moan out incoherent sentences and babbles of her name.

"—Please! Fuck, Billiee..." You cry out, and she finally gives you the signal. Your juices immediately flow onto her fingers, dripping down your folds and seeping into the fabric of the sheets.

Her eyes stay on yours the whole time, her breathing heavy as she caresses your thigh with her free hand, "So good f'me, so—God—so fuckin' good for me, babygirl."

Your mind is hazy, vision blurry from your orgasm just a few moments prior. Your fingers unravel from the tight grip you had on the sheets, now messy and wrinkled, but she doesn't stop her movements.

Her actions are softer, now, not having the self-control to stop even for a minute. Seeing you like this, at your breaking point, she couldn't help herself. She needed to push you past the point of no return.

"Nono—Mhh, fuckk.." You sigh, unable to even think as the pads of her fingers caress your spongey walls, grazing every little part of your body that nobody else would ever reach. Only her.

She inhales sharply, her breath shaky. She dips her head down to place a wet kiss on your neck, nibbling the tender skin softly. The gentle actions turn to rough ones, biting and sucking at the same spots before soothing the ache with her tongue, "Pretty baby wanted me, didn't she?"

Your reaction is delayed, too stuck in your own head to even make out her words. The best you can do is nod, and Billie fortunately takes that answer, "That's right." She coos.

"Gonna take what I give you," she rasps, kissing your jawline and moving up to your lips, "And you're not gonna complain." She says sternly before kissing your lips softly.

All you can do is let out a weak cry, nodding your head as you fall deeper into her trap. Her lips feel unreal on yours, like you're still dreaming. And you just might be, but the way she pulls your lip back with her teeth reminds you that you aren't. It's real.

"There's my girl."

587 notes · View notes

i-am-lifeform24 · 5 months ago

Text

Curated Companions: Part 1

--------------🔞Masterlist🔞Part 2🔞Part 3🔞Part 4🔞---------------

-------------[ Artms Heejin - @worldsover ]--------------

Your girlfriend Heejin fucks other men for money; if you weren't cool with it, you would've left by now, but it comes with enough bonuses for you. You get discounts on her coworkers, but that pales to the 100% discount on Heejin. Your apartment is small, but she makes this bedroom cozy. In this hushed evening, as you complete daily gacha game quests on your phone, she's nestling into the hollow of your throat, grinding into your thigh, leaking your creampie from her folds, and making a mess of the sheets. All there is is your heartbeat pounding in your ears, your ragged breathing, and the soft squelch of her pussy sliding up and down your leg as you open card packs to garish yet nonetheless thrilling animations.

"Hey," you whisper. You set the phone down. She is slow to reply, though a few seconds later, she raises her head and gives you a sheepish grin. "Heejin, baby, what are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing…" she replies, pursing her lips in a coquettish smile. You raise a brow; how is she able to appear so innocent even with a pussyful of cum? Well, was ful, now half ful, the other half a syrupy streak on your leg that only grows.

"How's work lately, Heejin?" You stroke her cheek. There it is: the nervous flicker.

Heejin burrows into the crook of your neck. "Same old, same old," she murmurs. Her eyes fall. Her mouth turns into a small frown.

You caress Heejin's sides. "If you want to talk about it, I'm here."

"I know. Thanks." Heejin sighs and lays her head on your shoulder. "The company expects me to increase my sales by ten percent this month. It's ridiculous. I already have the highest customer satisfaction."

"It's not your fault," you say, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer. She squeezes your arm.

"I know that's just how business is. We're expected to sell more, get more clients, increase margins, yada yada."

"Hmm. You should offer incentives to your clients," you say off the cuff. Heejin looks up at you with curiosity. "If someone is going to request your services, offer them a bonus reward, like a photocard."

Heejin shakes her head and laughs dismissively. "Too much gacha on your brain. Wait… actually…"

***

Heejin fucks other men for money, and you care less than you did. You've moved out of your little apartment into a luxury house in an upscale neighborhood. Your new situation is a kind balm to resentment. On a shelf nearby, an official company plaque reads "Girl of the Month" for having the top sales in October. An understatement.

Heejin trails feather-light kisses up your thighs. She takes her sweet time reaching your erection, licking a sensuous, savoring stripe up it. Lowering herself again, her lips wrap while she lightly gags and moans between words.

"I took your idea and ran with it." Oh, she's a runner indeed: runs her mouth as she runs her mouth along your length. "Glk... Guys would get a Neejinie collectible photocard after they book me. Some of the cards are regular ones, mmm, but the rarer ones are nudes and bunny suits and cum-covered selfies. Then I started coming up with new ideas. Nngh—now I have this whole rarity system, with guaranteed rare drops after enough sessions."

You half-laugh, half-gasp. "You're the devil, getting people addicted like that—" She closes her hand around the base of your cock as she huffs out a laugh.

"I like to think I'm more like a succubus," Heejin retorts with a cheeky wink. "You don't even know the half of it."

"My little entrepreneur. I'm so proud of you." You sit up to pat her head, but Heejin presses her tongue flat against your shaft, then swirls around like it's ice cream; you're flat on your back again.

She explains how her cards have a QR code on the back that gives rewards on her bespoke app, with a convoluted currency system. Some of the rewards are in-person: extra time, special activities, or custom outfits; others have virtual rewards like exclusive videos and picture sets. Her whole schedule's booked for months, and people are paying double just to get on her calendar.

"You owe me royalties for all these ideas," you say with a laugh that turns into a groan.

Heejin scoffs. "Just to fund your gacha addiction? Yeah, right." She lets saliva drip down the sides of your erection and gets it nice and shiny before placing the tip inside her mouth again. Nursing your cock, Heejin adds softly, "Mmm… I hope my clients appreciate me, not just the cards."

"I wouldn't worry about that."

Heejin's eyes twinkle before she engulfs you. The smooth warmth of her tongue coaxes your precum onto her tongue; her drool seeps past the edge of her mouth down into her cleavage; the room smells musky and sweet. Heejin hollows out her cheeks and bobs her head faster, letting out slurps and gulps. She manages to make giving a blowjob look, sound, and feel like the most pleasurable act possible. Your hips start bucking upwards until Heejin puts a firm hand on your thigh, after which she lifts off you with a loud pop.

"You're gonna cum for me soon, aren't you?" Heejin asks, kisses the underside of your pulsating, leaking shaft, and sucks your balls into her mouth, one by one. She swirls her tongue around the tender sack. Heejin strokes your length, rubbing it between her hand and face. "Do it, give me my reward, babe."

You're at your breaking point. All you can do is let out a guttural groan as hot cum spurts onto her. Strings stick to her lashes and eyelids, her cheeks, her nose, and her puffy lips, and dribble down to her chin and neck. You gasp, your vision returning as Heejin licks your aching cock clean.

She collects some of the seed on her face and spreads it over her lips as if applying lip gloss. Blinking, she looks up through her cum-laden eyelashes, showing off her white-coated tongue. "Ahh."

"Yeah, I'm sure it's just the photocards that make them return," you say. Heejin's lipstick is smudged; her glossy eyes flutter close, waiting patiently for your next move. You reach for your camera. "But just in case it is... smile." Shutter, click.

--------[ Le Sserafim Sakura @mintwithchoco ]--------

You’ve never understood the concept of falling in love.

Whether it’s that uneasy feeling in your stomach when someone you’re interested in is around, or missing that one person so badly if you hadn't seen them that day, it has never occured to you, despite numerous attractive women appearing in your life. There have been a few chances, but none of them worked out as well as you expected.

Until this night dawns itself upon you, as you end your typical day with an interesting experience.

You are already used to helping out your workmate with his job, but you're definitely unfamiliar with the thank-you gift that he has given you this time. Knowing that you were single and a virgin, he decides to hook you up on a special service.

“Thanks for the dinner earlier. None of my customers have ever treated me like that before.” The woman’s compliment floats into your ears, making your cheeks blush.

You let out a nervous snicker. “It’s nothing really. I just wanted to get to know you better. Besides, we’re gonna do the uhh… t-the thing. You know, so that it won't get awkward later.”

Miyawaki Sakura is a complete stranger to you an hour ago, where thanks to your colleague, you both finally meet for a specific reason. If it wasn’t obvious, you’ve never had the experience of having an escort, so it was a very awkward first meeting. Eventually, you end up inviting her over for dinner, which was successful at breaking the ice. You both talk plentifully over the meal, sharing interests and jokes until finally, the time for your reward came. As Sakura makes herself comfortable on your bed — already in her underwear — tension has been building inside of you since welcoming her into your apartment, and it couldn't be much more obvious.

Sakura smirks, looking at your clueless yet nervous expression. “So,” She makes a swift move to your side. Bringing her lips closer to your ears, she whispers, “Shall we begin?”

Her sultry tone makes you freeze up. You nod dumbly, and with a smile, Sakura straddles onto your lap, letting herself feel the excitement concealed in your pants. Her hands place themselves on your shoulders as she closes in the distance between both of your lips. Simultaneously, your body gradually becomes weaker the longer you both make out, putting all hopes on your arms to support yourself. Sakura then transitions to slow kisses, her hand now caressing your face and the other slipping itself under your shirt to feel your body. You toughen up, now reaching a hand towards her waist to pull her even closer, making her grind slightly on your lower half.

Fuck, I’m actually enjoying this. Sakura remarks in her thoughts.

Not long after exchanging soft moans, Sakura kneels down on the floor, leveling her way down towards your pants. Before you know it, your cock was released from its confines, fully hard and warm in front of her face. Her fingers wrap around your shaft, delicately, and she strokes you off slowly, causing you to throb and twitch with pleasure.

“Sakura, it feels so good…”

“It’s gonna get better now, darling.”

Almost immediately, you enter her mouth, saliva covering the tip on which her lips are gently sucking on. You let out a loud moan every time Sakura draws circles with her tongue on your tip and goes deeper down your cock. Sometimes, Sakura makes eye contact, her beautiful amber colored eyes shining amidst the sinful action she’s committing. You were nothing but mesmerized, forgetting the thought that she was merely here just to ease your desires.

A few minutes passes, and Sakura now optimizes her hand to stroke your shaft while diligently sucking on your tip. You can feel that burning sensation growing — the extra stimulation from her strokes are too good to be true.

“Don’t hold back. Just let it all out.”

Sakura increases the pace of her strokes and licks the underside of your tip. All of a sudden, your body jerks itself and your head falls back as you let out your first orgasm of the night. Two thick ropes of cum cover her tongue, before she sinks her head entirely down on your cock, so that the last few shots fill her mouth. Your eyes widen when you realize that Sakura was swallowing everything that you released without any hesitation. She then pulls away to show off her empty mouth to you, clean without any drop of semen left.

“Wow,” is all you can utter before your body comes back to its senses, your chest heaving to regain your breath.

“You came a lot for a first timer.” Sakura lifts herself back up and straddles you once more. Your cock was still as hard as it was, standing in between her legs. “But it seems that you’re not that satisfied yet.”

“I… I need more.” Sakura smiles upon looking into your desperate eyes, filled with fervor.

“You know, you’re cuter than all of the customers I had.” Sakura trails her finger on your chest and gently pushes you down on the bed . “And I’m quite fond of cute boys.”

Her kiss on your forehead made you realize how Sakura completely took over you — feeling an unbearable thirst in her burning gaze and stealing your entire heart with that beautiful smile. She then takes a hold of your shaft, rubbing her clothed pussy with it, before whispering into your ear, “Get ready, darling. I’m gonna fuck you so good.”

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

“Ah, fuck! Sakura! Sakura!”

“Mmmm, yes! Fuck me harder!”

The sun is about to rise, yet the both of you are still inside each other, drunk off the dopamine. The view of her breasts bouncing up and down is getting familiar to you, given that you have been thrusting into her hungry pussy for hours on end and filling her up with your load countlessly. You did not care about the risks that this night may give you. The only thing that was inside of your mind was just how Miyawaki Sakura managed to mess you up in different ways, dragging you out of your comfort zone and discovering your unknown side.

You look into her eyes once again—the prettiest you’ve ever seen—and it was obvious that she was getting closer to her peak. No words were needed because you know what she wants. You fuck her harder and deeper, hitting all of her right spot with her moans growing louder. The moans then turned into a sudden guttural shriek, with Sakura’s body violently spasming as she squirts around your cock, drenching your crotch and the bed. Not long after, with one last thrust, you erupt deep inside her as well, emptying everything that you had left in your balls. As you pull yourself out, it reveals a heavenly sight of Sakura’s sweaty body with her legs still spread out and your semen slowly spilling out of her pussy like an endless flow.

Expecting her to leave soon, you try your best to get anything that she may need—tissues, water, her clothes—but Sakura seems to not care, as if she doesn’t wanna leave. Suddenly, she hugs you from behind when you are about to grab her panties.

“Hey, can I just stay in?”

“Uhh sure, but I gotta go to work soon—”

“Dummy, don’t you understand?” Sakura then turns you around and brings you in for a kiss. “I like you. And..” Her cheeks began to turn red. “...I wanna stay with you for a while.”

You are astonished by her words because you had a similar thought—getting closer and keeping a relationship with her. She has successfully planted a new feeling inside of your heart just in one night, and you desire to learn about it more.

“Sakura… I like you too.”

---------------[ SNSD Seohyun - @kesujo ]---------------

Seohyun squeals as you push her onto the bed. Her impressive rack threatens to spill out the sides of her black cut-away dress; seeing hints of her almond areola reignites all the fantasies you’ve had about her tits.

This night, you plan on fulfilling all of them.

“Don’t lie, you can’t wait to be fucked by me.”

“You’re so full of it.”

“If anyone’s full of anything, it’ll be you with my cock very shortly.”

Despite rolling her eyes at your remark, Seohyun remains professional when you mount the bed and slip your hands underneath her dress. You can see her breath hitch from your hands cupping her boobs and scooping them out.

“I don’t know why you chose to remain a virgin until now when you have such sexy, fuckable tits.” She responds only with slight gasps and muffled moans, you sparing no expense in fully indulging in the exquisite feeling of having her brimming-to-the-top milk jugs in your hands. “Saving yourself for me, hoping I’d win the bid?”

“In your drea—” she cuts herself off again with another squeal as you pinch her nipples.

“Your voice and body give away your excitement.”

“That’s not…” Your hands dive underneath the dress, making contact with the uncovered intersection of her legs, already damp and sticky with precum. Before she can respond, your two digits are knuckle-deep inside her sweltering hot sex.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” Your two digits dig deeper, and Seohyun sighs turn into gasps. You can tell she’s trying to stifle them but failing, and that makes you even harder. When you kick your pants and boxers off, you can see Seohyun’s defiant gaze melting into awe.

Your knees push aside her legs while your hands push aside her dress. Her professionalism keeps her from resisting, even if she squirms a little under the intense gaze of you looking at her freshly shaven pussy. “No hymen?” Seohyun shakes her head. You find it adorable how she, who was so spunky and full of life just seconds prior, has now clammed up. “Good. Goin’ in.”

You watch her eyes widen and lips part as you plunge inside her, gasps turning into moans the more your dick advances. You can feel her tight, virgin walls being pried open by your girth and relish in the delectable pressure she’s exerting onto you. As soon as she gives you to go ahead, you’re thrusting with all the stored-up anticipation and lust this night had built up inside you. Seohyun’s hands tightly grip the bedsheets, red-faced in her failed attempt to hold back the sounds of her ecstasy. The adorable showcasing of her bashful indulgence makes you go even harder, deeper, causing Seohyun to get louder in tandem. “Call me Dex.”

“Wh-What?”

“For when you need to scream my name.”

Seohyun can only respond with a sharp moan, your thumb pressing on her clit. When you finally manage to fully hilt her, you keep it there for a few seconds, letting your thumb circle her clit for a few seconds.

“Wh—” the question dies in her throat, but you can see the desperation on her face.

“Hm?” Seohyun shakes her head. “What is it?” It’s a rhetorical question, though: ecstasy is written all over her face.

“N-Nothing.”

Your index finger brushes over the stub, causing her entire body to spasm. “Really?” She stays silent, but you can tell from her squirming that it’s difficult for her to do so.

So, when you suddenly extract your penis from her, she says, “What—” but catches herself. Shortly, she finds herself seated in your lap, looking at her fully nude body through a body-length mirror. “Fuck, you’re sexy.”

“What, did you just want to stare?”

“You’re gonna watch me fuck you senseless.” Stuffing your cock back inside her clams up the chatty escort. |Your eyes drink in the sight, of her round breasts rising and falling, her waist that dips inward and her baby-bearing hips that curve outward, and your cock firmly lodged between her pried-open vaginal lips.| “Watch.”

Seohyun obeys, instantly zeroing in on the same thing you are looking at, watching you fully hilt her. “Hm…”

You can see how much the sight turns her on. “Fuck…” Her tightness serves as resistance, but not enough: soon, Seohyun is bouncing on your lap, your tip repeatedly battering her cervix at the apex of each thrust. Her eyes fixate on your connection, each bounce splattering more juices onto both of them. Eventually, Seohyun is unable to contain her moans, joining you and the wet slapping sounds of her ass on your crotch.

“Fuck, Seohyun…”

You start playing around with different angles until she lets out a squealing moan.

“Oh, there?”

Seohyun refuses to say anything, but is soon lost in ecstasy as you repeatedly assault that very spot. Her hands climb up her body and start playing with her own boobs; her head leans back on your chest and her eyes close.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“Shit…” You use a bit more force, causing her to moan a bit more loudly than before. “A-Ah!”

“Tell me how much you love it.”

“F-Fuck…”

Both index fingers surround the sensitive nub sitting atop her pried-open folds. “Say it.”

“Damn it—” she lets a muffled scream as your fingers apply pressure to her clit.

“Say it,” you growl into her ear.

“F-Fuck…” The swear is barely audible over the sound of your balls slapping against her ass. “…please…”

“Hm?” Your fingers dance around her clit. You can see her impatience in her body, feel her impending climax as clearly as your own.

“God, god, please…”

“Louder.”

“Please, please!”

You reward her by squeezing the sensitive nub, eliciting a loud moan. “Watch. Watch yourself cum all over my dick.”

She eyes blink open and land back onto your connection. “Oh, fuck…”

The force of your thrusts increases, invigorated by her gaze. “You like that?”

Seohyun unabashedly nods, and when your fingers squeeze her clit again, her eyes roll to the back of her head. “Oh—”

“Cum for me, Seohyun.”

“Fuck, fuck—DEX!”

Watching her screaming orgasm overtake her is what pushes you over the edge. Your bodies ram against each other relentlessly, Seohyun depositing buckets of fluids onto your groin while you deposit yours into the condom. Her firm, hot walls convulsing against your shaft milks out the last few streams, and by the time your orgasm subsides, so too is Seohyun’s.

Exhausted, Seohyun’s head leans against your chest, her hands coming down to her sides and her shoulders relaxing.

“Pretty good, aren’t I?”

Gone is the combative, stubborn brat, replaced by a teasing smirk playing at her luscious lips. “I’m not sure if I can tell just yet…”

You push the seductress off your lap and throw her onto the soft mattress, face down. She expertly lands with her knees tucked in, pointing her shiny, battered pussy right at you. You take off the condom, tie it up, throw it into the trash, and reach for another one.

“Then I guess I’ll have to beat it into you.”

--------------[ VIVIZ Eunha - @0cta9on ]----------------

“Do you think I would be a good escort?”

You spit out your coffee, nearly choking to death from utter shock. “Eunha, what the hell are you talking about?”

She shrugs, not looking up from her phone. “Just a thought. Job hunting is a bitch, but I need money.”

“Why don’t you work at the cafe down the street?” You suggest. “They’ve had that ‘We’re Hiring’ sign in front of their store for weeks.”

Eunha groans, sinking into her chair. “I’d rather eat glass than spend a second working food service.”

You furrow your brow at her. “And you think sex with strangers is better than making coffee?”

“If I’m getting paid $800 an hour, then absolutely. All I have to do is sleep with some guy once a week and I’ll be making at least $3000 a month. That’s more than your silly little subway job pays,” she says smugly.

You open her mouth to argue but concede after realizing she’s right. “Still, I don’t think it’s a good idea to sell your body just because you don’t want to work a normal job. How do you plan on getting ‘clients’ anyways?”

“What, you don’t think people would pay just to see these puppies?” Eunha squeezes her breast, soft yet hefty in her small hands. You look away, blushing profusely. “Don’t pretend like you don’t stare at my chest whenever I walk around the apartment in a sports bra,” she teases you.

“I- W-well, uh… N-no, I… Hmm…” You blabber like an idiot, trying to scootch away from her as she leans in with a mischievous smile.

“C’mon, just a few hundred bucks and I’ll let you touch them~ I’ll even give you a little roommate discount,’ she giggles, deriving great pleasure from watching you squirm in your seat.

“H-how… How much?” You stutter, keeping your gaze away from her.

“Oh my god, really!?” She exclaims. “Hmm, how about $500?”

“$500!?”

“Ugh, fine, $450. But that’s the lowest I’m going, that’s nearly half of my hourly rate!”

“You didn’t even have an hourly rate until two seconds ago…” You mutter, taking out your phone. You can’t believe you’re about to do this. If Eunha was a guy, you would’ve kicked her out of the apartment ages ago with how awful of a roommate she is, but unfortunately, you’re a sucker for petite girls with big tits and you would be lying if you said you didn’t have hot roommate fantasies about her. $450 is nothing compared to the experience you’re about to have.

You send her the money, watching her face light up as she gets the notification on her phone. “Woohoo! Alright, first customer, what do you wanna do first?” She asks, leaning in with intrigue.

“I-I, um…”

“C’monnnn, what are you getting nervous for? There’s gotta be something in that perverted little head of yours. Plus, I’m not issuing refunds, so you better make this worth your while.”

“O-okay, fine! Uh…” With shaky hands, you grab her tits, giving them a gentle squeeze. They’re softer than you could ever imagine, yet still firm like weighted pillows on her chest. You lift them a bit and drop them, slowly becoming hypnotized by the way they jiggle to and fro.

Eunha giggles as you play with her breasts. “They’re nice, aren’t they?”

“So nice…” You glance at her lips, supple and glossy, and suddenly you find yourself on top of Eunha, kissing her puffy lips as your hands explore her curvaceous body. She moans into your mouth as you lift her top, tweaking and pinching her exposed nipples. Fuck, her moans are so high-pitched, it's adorable. You want to hear that sound all the time, put it in your playlist and listen to it 24/7.

Clothing flies all around the living room as the two of you are caught in a tornado of lust. Your shirt by the front door. Her panties hanging off of the TV. Your boxers are probably underneath the sofa, but that’s an issue for a later time. Eunha pushes you against the sofa, stroking your cock as she gazes into your eyes with intensity.

“I was expecting you to be a bit bigger, but this isn’t bad,” she teases with a smirk.

“Are you gonna insult all your clients like this?” You run your thumb over her lips, grinning as she takes it between her lips for a split second.

“Just the perverted ones that stare at my tits.” She winks at you before running her tongue along your entire length, producing a guttural moan from your mouth. Watching her cute and innocent face inhale your cock is a sight that you’ll surely remember forever.

Your tip barely grazes the back of her throat with each pump of her head, sucking you off like it’s the last dick she’ll ever suck. Eunha’s pretty round eyes never leave yours, watching contentedly as your face morphs with pleasure. Suddenly, she removes your cock from her mouth, jumping onto your lap and lining up your rod with her dripping hot core.

“I need you inside of me,” she says, her lips coated in saliva.

“Who’s the pervert now?” You tease, watching with bated breath as your tip slowly disappears in between her legs.

“Don’t act like you haven’t imagined this before.” Eunha’s smirk fades into a look of pure ecstasy as you bottom out inside of her. Her velvety walls squeeze and cling to you, never letting you go as she bounces on your cock like a good girl.

Her tits jiggle tantalizingly in front of your face, practically begging you to suck on them. As you succumb to your basest desires, your fingers sink into the meaty flesh of her ass, pulling her into you as you thrust up. The sound of skin slapping against skin and Eunha’s pornographic moans is like music to your ears, a sentiment your neighbors definitely won’t share.

Pretty soon, you feel that familiar pressure in your stomach, and with one last thrust, you shoot the biggest load you’ve ever had straight into your roommate’s waiting pussy. Eunha collapses on top of you, her hot breath hitting your ear.

“H-holy fuck… M-maybe we should… D-do this again…” She utters in between breaths.

You chuckle, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. “Fine, but I want a 100% discount next time.”

-------------[ Aespa Karina - @sumirhatos ]-------------

"I've told you I won't go for that old schmuck", Karina complains to her manager, "He's a creep, he's ugly and he's old as my grandpa", she continued while her face is visibly fills up with an absolute disgust.

"But, imagine how good would it be to get this company in the palm of your hand?", the manager replied to the idol's antics.

"Yes, but even imagining it makes me want to vomit", she gagged demonstrating how much aversion she has and started to sob...

"Okay, okay I understand, I won't insist on that", the manager got close to her and hugged Karina, comforting the girl sitting in front of him. She eased accepting the embrace.

"You know what? I actually have an idea!", the manager wiped the tears from her cheek and continued, "He has a grandson, quite young and handsome, it's not a 100% chance that you will get any sort of a benefit from this, but there is a possibility he's going to be of use.

"Fine... Worth a shot, I guess...", she yearned with no interest in her voice.

"Okay, I'll get in touch with you later, when I arrange the meeting", manager said standing up and leaving her place.

@Later that night@

The taxi brought her to the destination, getting out of the car Karina can see a mansion hidden behind high fences. Getting to the gates she's faced by two big men, supposedly guards.

"May I help you miss?", one of the guards asks the girl.

"I'm expected, my name is Yu Jimin", she replies in a low voice.

"Please wait", the other guard said and then reported to someone on the radio about her arrival, "Please go ahead miss Yu", he said opening the gates for her.

She goes past the gates and to the entrance door. Entering the manor, she's greeted by a butler wearing a gray suit.

"Greeting miss Yu Jimin. Please leave your belonging here, young master is at his office at the 2nd floor, he's awaiting you", he rambled pointing at the counter near the door.

Jimin took off her coat and left her bag on a counter taking just her phone with her, after which she followed the butler upstairs to a fancy office room.

"Master, your guest is here", butler says entering the room to the guy sitting at the desk.

"Thank you, that would be all", he replied to the butler. Butler bows and closes the double doors behind him.

"Miss Yu Jimin", he gets out of his chair and rushes to the girl, "it is such an honor to meet you", he greets her and kisses her hand, causing her to jerk her hand away in surprise.

"Just Jimin", she replied awkwardly.

"Okay, Miss Jimin. My name is Lee Seokjin, but call me Seokjin" he points to the couch and the table set out in front of the desk, "please sit"

"Listen, we both know why I'm here, so let's just get it over with", she spills starting to unbuckle his belt.

"Woah woah woah, Miss Jimin let's not rush things", he said getting her hands away from him, "I know you are not a slut, you just pretend to be one, we both know that".

"What is it I'm after then?", she leans back on the couch folding her arms on her chest.

"You are after my grandfather's money, everyone wants a piece of that", he sighs, sitting down on the couch on the left side of Jimin, "To be absolutely honest with you I'm also after it, that old fart is not giving me shit", he exclaims.

"Oh really? I feel sorry for you Mister Seokjin", she says sarcastically glancing at the whole place, "you're having such a bad life, such a poor guy".

"Nah, that's not it Jimin", he said," all of this is nothing, just a drop in the ocean", he continued.

"What do you want then?", she asks curiously.

"That's when you come into the play", he says putting his hand on her knee, "I have a proposal for you", he ran his hand over her dress covered thigh.

"Mmm, I'm all ears", she said biting her lip, leaning towards him, her cleavage is now right in his face, "what is it you crave for Mister Seokjin?", she whispered, tracing her hand over her cleavage.

"I want you... Umm...", he was a bit startled by the last move, but quickly recovered he continued, "I want you to help me get what is rightfully mine", he leaned towards Jimin, getting his face closer to hers.

"Yes? Tell me more Mister Lee", she leaned forward him, their lips are almost touching.

"I'm the heir of this family and you can be a part of it", he traced her face with his left hand while the right hand was still remaining on her thigh, "I'm going to look as very perspective heir for the family if I land myself a girl like you".

"Oh my, is that a marriage proposal?", she laughs, "are you that desperate that you want to marry a complete stranger?" she asks grinning at him.

"Not a marriage proposal, silly", he leans away from her stopping the touchy-touchy act, "You just need to pretend to be my girlfriend, so I can get my old man's approval and you can get the money you want so much", he continued.

"So that's what you think of me?", she asks angrily, "Am I some kind of a fucking whore to you?", she continues getting angrier.

"Are you not?", Seokjin asks her calmly.

"W-what?", she responds confused and agitated, "NO, I'm not, who the fuck do you think you are?", she asks furiously, starting to shout.

"That's what I thought", Seokjin responds calmly, "I don't think that you are a whore, I did not say that, you said it yourself", he continued.

"But you implied it!", Jimin exclaimed

"I did not imply anything, I simply offered you a job, no implications, just pure logic, so do you want the money, no?", he asked curiously.

"I'm don't need your fucking money", she exclaimed jumping up from the couch "I have enough money for the rest of my life, I just want fucking respect, recognition, that I'm not some sort of a fucking toy that you can play with", she continued in a lower tone, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

"Turns out we are not so different after all", Seokjin got up, handing her a handkerchief, "I also want the recognition from others, my whole life I was just a son and grandson", he continued, "I want to be Lee Seokjin, I don't want to dwell in the shadow of my relatives. Same as you I want power".

For a minute there was nothing but the silence. Jimin wiped her tears and handed the handkerchief back to Seokjin.

"So, what's your decision", Seokjin broke the silence first.

"I'll do it", Karina replied extending her hand.

"Deal", Seokjin said shaking Jimin's hand.

----------------[ IVE Yujin - @craycr4y ]------------------

“Ohh fuck you’re tight” you unconsciously uttered as you what’s the right word? plow? pound? Yujin. You don’t remember if that was her really her name since both of you just went down into it the moment, she stepped foot on your room. As you try to rest on your bed, a knock on the door got your attention, walked up to it, asked who is it, “Your dinner’s here Sir” she answered, for a moment it made you think if you ordered something that you totally forgot and when you opened the door there you saw her, wearing a black leather jacket, crop top that perfectly hugs her perky chest, leather shorts that envelops her ample ass, fishnets stocking on her toned legs, and some weird ass heels. You’re not staring at her; you’re ogling her. “You done stripping me with your eyes perv?” she said, you were kind of embarrassed that you were caught, and “Welcome make yourself comfy” is all what you can manage to reply. And oh boy she did. As soon as you turn your back from the door, she jumped you, like a hyena to a deer, full of hunger, consumed with lust, that got you surprised but you have no plans on backing down, she started kissing your lips that lead to your tongue fighting back hers. She’s short and light so you pulled her up carrying her by her plump ass and walked to the bedroom. “I’m gonna fucking cu……” your thought was cut off by the woman shuddering in front of you that you totally forgot. You slowed down your thrusts as you let her enjoy her climax, you can feel her pussy clench in every thrust. You leaned then kissed her back, giving her time to breath.

“Lay down, I want to ride you.” Yujin told you. You’re now on your back and in front of you is her full glory, perky chest, lean stomach, toned thighs, her tight and wet cunt lowering on you. You finally penetrated her again, she stopped for a moment trying to get used to your size. Yujin feels wet, warm, and so fucking tight. Her hands on your chest and hips bouncing on you. Wet sound started to echo and her movement becomes more powerful, more frantic. Her pussy perfectly hugs your dick as she fucks herself on to it. You pulled her into a hug lifted you hips and started hammering her “You fucking like huh you slut? Bouncing on my cock when you don’t even know what my name is” right to her ear and you felt it again her pussy squeezing your cock again, she’s mewling, body convulsing, possibly creaming on your cock. “I want it ….” Yujin uttered. You moved her beside of you and now face to face with her, swiped her disheveled hair, “She’s so cute what the fuck” you told yourself. “Finish your sentence baby, you want what?” “I want you to fill me up” she finally managed to finish her thought “And I have no plans of pulling out” Now your places are switched you are now on top of her. It still impresses you how tight she is when you entered her again, she closed her eyes and bit her lips. This time it’s you who will chase your climax, just spreading her legs and your hips thrusting vigorously, her pussy is so wet it’s squelching, you proceeded to suck on her tits, nipples razor sharp, licking one and pinching the other, this made her a mess and whimper. You felt your balls tingle and abdomen tighten. “I'm cumming baby” you said as you make out with her while painting her insides white. You keep on thrusting on Yujin. After you filled her, you lay down beside her and she unconsciously went to your arms and snuggled with you.

------------[ Busters Takara - @writerpeach ]------------

“Ah, I’m so full,” you say with a sigh, wiping your mouth with a napkin and sitting back in your chair, utterly content. “This is the best ramen I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Told you.” Across the table, your date smirks, with this look of smug elation on her face, taking one last slurp of her own meal as if she’s savoring every little drop. You’re not quite sure what her secret is to keeping a figure like that—especially when she can pile on the food.

Her name is Takara you’ve been told—but you’re not sure if that’s her real name or not. Not that it matters much. Takara’s a local to the area, which means she’s the perfect person to guide you around the city, letting you know all the ins and outs, including this little hole in the wall restaurant that you never would have known about otherwise.

She’s incredibly gorgeous, showing off her body in this tight little gray crop top and jeans that you can’t take your eyes off. But hey, you’re allowed to stare—it’s what you’ve paid for after all.

“So,” Takara starts, right by your side with a bright smile on your face while you two leisurely traverse the riverwalk, taking in the medley of colors, the vibrant lights, and the serene water. “You’ve got a little over an hour left. If we keep heading in this direction and take a right, there’s a cozy little hotel that I like to take people to. I think you’ll like it.”

“Yeah? Well, lead the way then. You haven’t steered me wrong yet.”

No more than a few minutes later and you’re whisked along to a more docile part of the city, where the nightlife lingers in the distance. Takara speaks to the man at the front desk, and while you don’t quite understand every word, you get the gist of it. All that really matters is she gets handed a key, one that soon becomes yours as you follow her into an elevator.

A short ride up and you’re at a door with a number that matches what’s in your hand. You don’t have a second to spare, so the lock clicks open, and shoes are off before your next breath, heading towards a surprisingly large bed. It’s unexpectedly gorgeous, illuminated by red lights, with more amenities than you can count. But you’re not here to gawk over what this place looks like—not when Takara is right there.

“I assume you’ll want to start with my tits?”

“You read my mind, Takara.”

She giggles, gesturing for you to take a seat at the foot of the bed while she lifts her shirt off, exposing a huge set of breasts hiding underneath that you get a much closer look at when her body straddles your lap.

“What exactly does platinum get me again? The details were a little vague.”

Takara gazes upon you, and you can’t hide the lust building in your eyes when she reaches behind her back to unclasp her bra—and in a matter of moments, those pale breasts are freed, ready to receive your full attention. “Whatever you want, sweetie. You’ve got me for the full hour.”

You take one good look at her heavy breasts, so full and inviting, with this immaculate shape that you immediately dive into, latching your lips onto a nipple, suckling harshly. “Jesus, Takara. Your tits are fucking perfect.”

She moans at the praise, fingers working your zipper at the same time you cover her pretty nipples in saliva, only coming up for a breath when absolutely necessary.

“That’s what everyone says. Even people who aren’t my clients.” Her head tilts back while you feast on her tits, taking your time, slobbering them up so well before you get another pause in. “If you like the way they taste, wait until you try out how they feel.”

There’s a moment of disappointment when Takara dismounts your lap, dropping to her knees to get your pants off, boxers falling down right after. She gets this glint in her eyes, not so dissimilar to when you first laid your eyes on her delicious chest. “And you—have a perfect cock.”

Takara looks around the room, leaving her position when she finds her target and reaches into a small box on the counter. Not gone for long, she returns with a small bottle in her delicate hands that she unwraps. The top flips open, and your eyes widen when she drizzles clear liquid onto her breasts, pouring a little extra for good measure. You’re practically hypnotized

by how she rubs it into her chest, those immaculate tits even better all slicked up, glistening, waiting for one thing left—

She slides your cock in between the oily flesh, and you groan so desperately when she cups her breasts, squeezing them so tightly around you. Then she begins to move, up and down, and you fucking lose it.

“Fuck, Takara—this feels so fucking good.” Your breath gets taken away whenever you disappear into that delicious cleavage, as she uses her heavenly, soft breasts to repeat it all over again.

“Just a little warm up. Like the way your cock looks between my tits?”

A weak nod is all you can answer with, because before she can even get a rhythm started, you’re falling apart. The pleasure only gets better, a deadly smile on her face while her tits squeeze and squeeze around your cock, creating all this delicious friction. Clearly, she’s good at her job—the look on her face knows how devastating all this oiled up flesh that surrounds every inch is, the intoxicating bliss spiraling out of control.

Takara keeps looking into your eyes with every pump, her amazing tits massaging your cock in ways you’ve never felt before, an absolute dream come to reality. “Talk to me, baby. Want me to slow down? Go faster?”

“Just stay like that. Fuck, those tits—not gonna lost long, oh my god, I love these tits around my cock—“

“That’s what I like to hear, make a fucking mess all over me. You can cum as many times as this beautiful cock can handle.”

“Takara—“ All you can do is groan, your length trapped in this slippery flesh, giving the perfect view of how she slides you in and out. She grinds her chest, never losing eye contact, keeping up the pace as she squeezes, right until the last moment—

When your cock disappears in between the delicious valley of her breasts, you fucking explode, and your cock shoots hot cum in thick, white spurts, filling up her cleavage. A stray strand hits her chin, making her gasp in surprise. Takara milks it all out with a smile, keeps the friction going to get your balls all emptied, these creamy streaks painting her chest like a canvas.

“Now that’s a good first load,” Takara says, letting your cock slip out from her oiled breasts with a few lazy pumps, before rubbing your hot mess in all over until it glistens even more. You’re spent, but not exactly exhausted, not with how this pretty girl looks up at you, like she’ll be disappointed if you stop now.

“F-fuck,” you manage to say, voice all heavy and shaky, leaning back on the mattress.

“What do you think, got more in you?” she asks, so proud of a job well done. “Because we’ve got plenty of lube left…”

And before Takara climbs up the bed, she gets rid of those bothersome clothes, heading up to join you with bottle in hand, all naked, giving you such a good glimpse at the rest of her divine figure.

“I think we’ll figure out a good way to use it all up.”

-----------[ Kiss of Life Julie - @authorhjk1 ]------------

“Well, that’s awkward.”

You break the uncomfortable silence in your hotel room.

“Julie, how could you do this to me?”

The man in the doorframe looks at the woman in front of you.

Julie slowly lifts her head and you have to force back a groan as her lips glide along your length. Still on her knees, she turns around, her hand holding your cock.

“What are you doing here?”

She sounds more annoyed than ashamed.

“I work here! Who the hell is this guy!?”

You guess he must’ve seen Julie go to your room and followed her.

“I’m working too. Now get out, we can talk about this at home.”

“Talk about this? Julie, you’re sucking another man’s cock! You’re married for god’s sake!”

Groaning in annoyance, you grab Julie’s shoulders and turn her around.

“I’m not paying you for talking.”

When you push her head into your lap, you can’t tell if she opens her mouth to suck your dick or to protest. Either way, Julie’s lips close around your cock when she is just about to choke.

“P-Paying?”

Her husband covers his mouth in shock as he watches her sucking off someone else.

“Yeah, she isn’t cheap, man. But so far, she is worth the money. Except for…”

You loosely gesture in his direction.

Julie keeps bobbing her head on your shaft as you talk.

“Julie, stop! Please!”

His voice sounds like he is about to cry. You can’t blame him. If your wife did the same, you’d be devastated too.

When Julie looks up at you, you raise an eyebrow. She rolls her eyes. She suddenly opens her mouth wider and shoves your cock as deep into her throat as it would go. Her choking makes some of her spit fall into your lap and onto the carpet. You groan, feeling her tight throat. After gagging a couple of times, Julie raises her head. Your wet cock leaves her mouth. She keeps stroking it, without looking at her husband.

“Do you think this the first time? I’ve been doing this job for years now. How do you think I was able to afford this new dress?”

She gestures at her own figure.

“You have a choice here, man.”

You talk again, but not before guiding Julie’s mouth back onto your cock. She diligently resumes her blowjob.

“You either leave and wait for her, until we’re done here, or you can watch, if that’s what you’re into. But stop yapping already.”

You almost have to chuckle at his shocked expression.

“Just telling you the facts man. Although I doubt you will enjoy what the two of us are up to.”

Julie lifts her head again, looking up at you.

“If you want anything ass related, you will have to pay extra though.”

Your eyes are focused on her, but you can tell that her husband just sank into one of the chairs.

“I thought I already paid for everything.”

“You did. Everything. Except anal.”

You roll your eyes.

“You are already expensive enough. I’m not paying you more.”

“No anal, then.”

Julie shrugs her shoulders.

“Fine.”

You snarl, grabbing her chin with one hand and forcing her mouth open. You spit into Julie’s mouth, before dragging her onto the bed.

“Let’s get this little dress off of you.”

Her husband is making some noise in the background, but you’re too busy with robbing Julie off her clothes. You pull at the black fabric, exposing her tits. The lack of a bra enables you to dive in immediately.

“Julie…”

Her husband cries as you suck on his wife’s tits. You fondle them, enjoying how they feel in your hands. Her smooth skin tastes wonderful. Julie moans, when you flick your tongue against her nipples. One of your hands wanders down her body, while the other keeps playing with her tits. When you reach her ass, you give it a hard squeeze, making Julie yelp first and then giggle.

“Bad boy.”

You squeeze her ass for a second time.

“Turn around, slut.”

Julie gets on all fours, her face turned towards the chair her husband is sitting in. The lower part of her dress rides up by itself.

“Huh, no panties.”

You remark, as you glance at her husband. He is still sitting there, his face in his hands. As you align yourself with Julie’s pussy, you give her ass a nice slap.

“Let’s see if this pussy is worth the money.”

Your words make her husband look up. He can’t believe his eyes as he witnesses the exact same moment you enter his wife. Her mouth falls open, her eyes wide in surprise. Julie’s hands have formed fists as she holds onto the sheets. You give her a deep thrust, not allowing her to get accustomed your size.

“Oh damn, that’s deep!”

Her slutty moan spurs you on. You hold her waist with both hands and start to fuck her. Your thrusts are quick and hard. You pull her body back into you, whenever you thrust forward. It makes you hit spots her husband probably will never be able to reach.

“Such a nice cock.”

Another moan from her, another cry from him. You take a fistful of her hair and push her face into the sheets. It muffles her moans, but by the time you fuck her with all you’ve got, it doesn’t make much of a difference. You swear, Julie’s pussy tightens, whenever she accidently makes eye contact with her husband.

“I’m a whore for your cock.”

You have your first orgasm about twenty minutes later. Julie is lying on her back, pressing her tits together with her hands, while her legs are wrapped around you.

“Fuck!” You groan as you pull out. Your cum paints her tits and her face. Julie’s whole upper body is covered in your semen as you walk around her husband and the table. When you reach her face, Julie quickly opens her mouth to clean your cock.

You have three more hours.

------[ Dreamcatcher JiU - @midnightdancingsol ]-----

The hour passes and lets another take its place.

You know it’s supposed to be different now, that everything’s changed, but how is it that it feels the same?

It was supposed to have long gone by then, a distant memory to place out along with the rest of the last few years of your life, but all it took was a single shadow of a shadow to pass you by, and once again that feeling floods back by the time your other foot steps off the stage, engulfs you as you walk back to your seat, submerges you well before the applause concludes.

Afterwards, there’s no quiet moment for you to find out at the end of the anxious anticipation, where time slows for you as you make your way through a parting crowd—it’s quite the opposite that greets you at the end of the faceless celebration, a speeding pulse that follows you, pushes you everywhere in the clumping press until it finally leaves you, alone, soaked in its wake.

From here, it’s just a short walk down the washed stone steps, and then from there to the grey pavement outside where you finally find her patiently waiting, a black-clad figure that briefly tips her cap to you, wearing a smile that you had never forgotten, familiarly unfamiliar from how deeply it’s been etched into your memory.

She steps forward to meet you at the gates, and then once again past, and then again until it’s just you and her in the shroud of the afternoon.

"Congratulations, darling," she murmurs fondly in her lofty drawl still as clear as the bells that continue to ring out above—the sound of crisp white linens and sweet red wine, of tickling bruised lips and warming light touches, of lonely whispered goodbyes and set uncertain futures.

“Thank you, for everything, Miss.”

Yes, it’s so easy to ignore the howling wind, the drizzling rain, to focus on her fingers thoughtfully tucking your hair behind your ear, fixing the loosely ribboned silk around your neck, closing around your chin with her thumb resting upon your lip—like no time had passed, it’s so comfortable to leave behind the chilly admiration in the eyes of strangers you’ve barely known even up until these last hours of your shared existences and climb up into the comfortable warmth of her fond gaze where you spent the best years of your life.

“Have you decided?”

Of course you had—it was the most selfish, stupid thing you could have asked of her then, of her now.

Though heavy with anticipation, the memory is light with hope, and so languidly, it makes its way on top of thin envelopes, tiny trinkets, and tender surrender, where it stays, it stays, and it stays, until languidly, it finally leaves your lips.

Today is the first day of the rest of your life…

"I want you to buy me jjajjangmyeon…

“Unnie.”

…but, maybe yesterday can stay with you for a little bit longer.

“It would be my pleasure.”

--------------[ TWICE Sana - @co-reborn ]---------------

“What do you want to do?”

You’re not entirely sure. You don’t even know how this stunning woman ended up knocking on your hotel room door. The only clue you have is the text message from your friend: ‘Happy Birthday bro. Enjoy the gift :)’

“Can I see more of you?”

“Of course, dear.”

That sweet angelic voice of hers just pulls you in as you sit closer to the edge of the bed, eyes glued to the sinful performance. The slow pull of the zipper behind her, then the dress off her shoulders. When it finally falls into a crumpled mess by her feet, you’re salivating. Her figure looks great, and she looks a thousand times better when just in her bra and panties. It’s a sight to remember, you’re sure it’s going to be carved into your mind, but you want to keep a souvenir for the night.

When you pick up your phone, Sana seems to get your idea and starts posing for you. First, she leans a little closer to you and brings her arms together to accentuate her cleavage. Then more pictures where a strap of her bra is off her shoulders, then both straps. Just as you’re waiting for the inevitable complete removal of her bra, she turns away from you and flaunts her ass. She’s bending over, looking back at the camera with a seductive smile. By this point, you’re in a trance and mindlessly clicking away to gather as many photos as you can.

She sits on the bed next to you and leans in close. When you turn to face her, you find yourself face to face with her, nose almost touching hers, and the first thing you notice is how attractive her eyes truly are, followed by how good she smells. You barely realise when her hand is on your thigh and dangerously close to your bulge.

“Do you want to spend all the time taking pictures? Your friend only paid for an hour.” She then whispers directly into your ear, “I can take good care of you if you want.”

You’re nodding like an idiot, confused and overwhelmed by the circumstances you’re in, and you find your pants being unbuttoned. Autopilot has taken over your system, you’re letting Sana have her way with you. It does seem that she knows what she’s doing given that she’s smiling while kneeling between your spread legs and your erect cock in front of her. Her lips press against your cock, her tongue teases your tip. You’re tense on the bed, nervous yet excited for the moment when she opens her mouth to take you in.

The sheer hotness of her mouth all over you, the pure filth of her lips at the base of your cock in contrast with that happy glimmer in her eyes are all too much to take in. As much as you’d like to keep your eyes on Sana, you just can’t. You’re left gripping the bed sheets and tossing your head back to gather your composure.

It’s almost a new experience for you. The expert mouth bobbing up and down your cock works in perfect tandem with her hands twisting the base of your length. Time feels foreign to you. You don’t know how much time has truly passed. All you know is that you’re about to cum and trying to hold it back is just going to end up with torn bed sheets.

A quick peek down at Sana makes it tenfold worse. She’s so damn hot, especially when she’s making eye contact with you with those seductive eyes of hers. It’s like she knows how close you are. How could she not? You’re moaning without restraint. You can’t help it of course, but it seems like the louder you are, the more intense Sana gets with the blowjob.

The pleasure suddenly diminishes. “Where do you want to cum, dear?”

You struggle to choose, especially when she’s still jerking you off rapidly. “Your face. Please!”

“You might want to record this.” She winks before going back down on you.

Your hand is shaky, you can barely hold your phone up in place. You aren’t completely sure if it’s even capturing all the action. What you’re sure of is that Sana is blowing you faster than earlier and that you’re about to cum and that your other hand is guiding her head, almost pushing her deeper onto yourself as if that’s possible. Then your grip loosens, your self control vanishes.

Without warning, you cum inside her mouth. She reacts quickly to the first shot, pulling your cock out and aiming the rest of your shots on her face. The pleasure is immeasurable. It’s been too long since you’ve relieved yourself and the volume of your load surprises her as her face is painted white.

“Fuck Sana!”

You remain seated, exhausted, and appreciate the sight of Sana painted with your cum. She cleans herself up with her fingers and licks them clean while you catch your breath before she dresses back up. God how can a woman look so sexy putting clothes back on.

“It’s a pity we don’t have more time together. It seems like you need it dear.” Right before she exits the room, you hear a faint “Call me again.”

You just might do exactly that.

#kpop smut #male reader smut #twice smut #dreamcatcher smut #le sserafim smut #ive smut #kiss of life smut #aespa smut

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sweetnans · 4 months ago

Text

Stuck in the moment || Bakugo, K. (pt.6)

Pairing: fuckboy Bakugo/hopelessly romantic fem. reader

summary: You made a mistake, a huge mistake. You fucked the most cocky, annoying, bastard, fuckboy you knew. Bakugo Katsuki. And that fact was against all your beliefs. Now, after the rumor (truth) spread like a pandemic virus in college you'll have to live with the stormy consequences of your acts and whatever trash was brought with it.

a/c: Hey, it's me again. Here we are in a new series I plan to continue. I really hope you enjoy it. I put my favorite man in action (bakugo) being a selfish bastard that you would love eventually and I couldn't help to put another "trope" I'm a sucker for (guardian/father figure Aizawa) I'm so sorry if that bothers you. Once again, I'm sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language. (Not proofread yet)

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 -> Pt.7 ♡

m.list

Bakugo was kinda fun to be around with. He actually made you laugh and not because of his faces every time you blurted the most unhinged question for him. He made you laugh verbally, with his own words, and the sentence wasn't one full of hate and despise. He was, without wanting it, fun.

For you, it fell like a truce, and the thought of being friends with him didn't scare you anymore. The second thoughts and plans of getting rid of him just by ignoring him disappeared along with the security that he was going to try something with you. He didn't.

You felt lightweight. Like a feather being carried with the breeze. Or that was Denki told you when you tried to verbalize what you felt. There was no weight on your shoulders anymore trying to dodge every bullet Bakugo threw at you just by being himself. You were walking on eggshells, and now it felt amazing that you weren't feeling distraught by just thinking of bumping into him in the hallways.

Somehow, that relieved your anxiety of having an upcoming date with Todoroki. You were planning on what to wear very calmly with Jirou's help and fantasizing how it would be.

You've made your peace.

Back in your real life, outside the mess of your head, you had to complete your homework and study for midterms. So you were genuinely happy that you could accomplish that without feeling so rachet about yourself.

"Is college more difficult than school?" Eri asked while you two were both doing your school/college chores in Aizawa's apartment.

"I don't know. I think you have to find a steady pace and find a good method to study, and everything should be fine. " You hummed your response, and she squinted at you. "What?"

"But you're like a genius, that doesn't count"

Eri had entered the age where she hated school. The rebellious phase for every teenager. She was still a cute girl who didn't give Aizawa any problem, but that didn't mean that it was easy trying to get her to do her homework.

"Well, you have brains too," you shrugged. "I know you don't like to do this stuff but at least we can spend some time together, like old times"

You loved her with your entire soul, and she welcomed you with open arms when Aizawa introduced you two. You both treated each other like sisters.

"Yeah, I think you're right." She smiled and directed her eyes to her assigment. "You've been kinda missing lately"

"It's been messy, not going to lie about it," you continued your writing while she was fidgeting with her pen.

"A boy, right?" She raised her eyebrow and smirked.

"What?" You dropped your pencil and looked at her nervously. You knew that Eri was very prone to hearing things without meaning it, and that was because Aizawa and Hizashi usually forgot that she's around when they speak things about college.

"I heard Aizawa talking to...I can't remember actually who, but he said something about a guy named Bakugo. I think I remember him, a loudly blonde guy with a grumpy face"

The thing about you two is that you always shared secrets. She constantly overheard things and never stuttered on telling or asking you whatever the topic was.

You constantly forgot how she was there before you. Like you were the older and you acted like an older sister for her but it was really weird that she, when she was little, used to be around them most of the time. You knew the war provoked that the grown-ups had to take their time to fix the world, so they asked students to babysit her. Mirio, one of the oldest, always stayed around. Even now, he made sure to have time to take her out. They went to amusement parks together, to the movies, to the arcade. Mirio had a busy life as a hero but never forgot his roots.

"Uhm, I don't know exactly what you heard, but it's just a friendship, nothing romantic, I swear." You were afraid that she had heard something about the one night stand you had with him, but you knew that even if Aizawa was oblivious about Eri eavesdropping, he would never share that piece of information with anyone.

"I don't mind. Your last boyfriend was a jackass so the set bar is pretty low." She said, waving her hand mindlessly.

With the teen years and rebellious age, as you can tell, she became savage.

"Accurately rude," you stated. "Anyways, just so you know and because I love you, I'm having a date this friday with the son of Endeavor"

The way she looked at you like you were joking made you cackle. You nodded, reaffirming your sentence, and she denied not believing you.

"The guy with the mismatched eyes?" You moved your head up and down, and she put both of her hands in her mouth. "He is cute"

"I know!" You giggled while she quickly closed her books.

"I need to know everything"

Aizawa scolded both of you for not finishing your chores before dinner but it was totally worth it.

...

On the other hand, Bakugo was still reminiscing the moment you appeared in his room the day before. His bento, clean and empty, was forgotten in his desk while he could still pictured you spinning in his chair.

The moment he watched you disappear, running after Todoroki was a decisive point in his mind. He only knew two emotions when it came to you, utterly giddy feelings that he didn't know he had, and that made him feel in constant denial and the second one, rage. Those feelings evolved in things more complicated. Rage evolved in stubbornness, prideful and insecurity. Why wasn't he good enough?

But then, you turned the things in your favor again, and he felt, aside from happy, vulnerable. Was that the only thing it took to have him back? A few 'I'm sorry' and a bag of cookies? If it was anyone, he would close the door at their nose, but it was you, and he couldn't help feeling the sincerity in your actions.

"What do you think about her?" Bakugo asked Denki, who was very busy trying to win a race in Mario Kart against Sero.

They were hanging in his room. After all, it was the only place available for stuff them all without annoying anyone. Sero and Denki were challenging themselves on Mario Kart, Kirishima was reading a sports magazine, and Mina was painting her nails.

"She is my best friend. I mean, aside from Jirou, " he answered, calculating a drift and avoiding a banana peel.

"Isn't she your girlfriend?" Sero chimed in, stumbling in the banana peel that Denki avoided before. "Oh man," he whined, seeing how toad twirled many times.

Mina started talking about you, how you seemed very nice but a little shy and how she was pretending to invite you for a drink or five. Bakugo's friend knew how he was, so he didn't mind asking about you with all of them there.

"Yep, but she's also my best friend. Anyway, forget about Jirou. " he turned the conversation about you again. "She's a very good friend, loyal. She's very attached to her past, but I don't blame her. She stays in between Jirou and me, like she's goofy funny and likes to throw silly jokes, but unlike me, she can ground herself very quickly, she doesn't need a Jirou to stay put. She's always supportive, and I'm really happy to have her"

Denki meant every word he said. He was very fond of you because you were so easy to be with. You didn't judge him for his lack of intellectual (academically) it was actually the opposite. Every time he felt down, you were the first one cheering him up and highlighting some other qualities he had.

"That's very manly bro" Kirishima threw both of his thumbs up with a big smile plastered on his face, completely forgetting he had a magazine on his hands.

"I really hope that you talk about me like that too, bunch of assholes!" Mina mumbled.

"Nah, we mostly talk about your lack of reasoning when you decide to wear animal print. That's so last decade!" Sero joked.

"You son of a bitch!" Mina yelled throwing him a pillow who ended up being one of the many reasons he lost in the race. "Haha, you deserved that loser." She stuck her tongue out, and Sero mimicked her.

"Please don't tear up my fucking room" Bakugo scolded them and they returned to their activities.

"Also, about Mina saying she's shy, she's not... she's chaotic in a way that no one expects her to be. You always see her so composed, but she's an entire other person once she's in his comfort zone. " Denki laughed at a memory that came back to his mind from one of the nights you two went out.

The last sentence of Denki had him motivated. He didn't need an excuse when it came to you, but he was eager and stubborn, and he needed to see with his own eyes that hidden part of you.

He knew exactly what he had to do.

...

You made your way back to your room when the sun was far from down. Eri and you turned the study session into a pancake dinner day. Save to say that Aizawa's white roof would never be white again unless he put all his soul to clean the stains of the batter away.

Rubbing your eyes because of the lack of sleep, you entered your building and walking like a zombie to your floor. You were happy to be alone. Jirou sent you a message that she would be staying at Denki's room for the night and you could never be happier. You were tired in a way that was draining your soul. Midterms were coming like a wave ready to crash adding the past event in your life that wreck the normality of it. But now, you had studied all the afternoon, you sure would have a good night of sleep and the Bakugo topic was more than solved.

Everything was making sense again. Oh and don't forget your upcoming date.

You let yourself breathe again and expand the capacity of your lungs like you were inhaling oxygen for the first time. It felt actually nice, it was like rebooting yourself just by doing so mundane like breathing.

"About time"

Nevermind.

Bakugo stood beside your room door looking hot as ever. He was wearing a black hoodie with his cap on, a matching jogger in his lower part.

"What are you doing here?" you whispered. It was late and there wasn't a soul around.

"I was running and decided to check on you" he shrugged when you stood in front of him squinting your eyes in disbelief. "Fine, there's one lie and one truth in that sentence"

You crossed your arms on top of your chest and he couldn't help eyeing your neckline.

"The truth is that I was running" he smirked and you rolled your eyes trying to hide your smile. Damn bastard. "Are we going to talk here? on the hallway?"

Taking the keys out of your pocket you reached to put them inside the lock, turning the knob after. Switching the lights, you dropped your bag in your desk and sat in your bed exhaling and laying yourself on top of the duvet.

"Did you bring food?" you asked to say something. Your stomach was full of pancakes but the thought of his cooking had you almost drooling.

"Nah, I have a proposal for you and if you say yes maybe and just maybe I'll reward you with a dish"

A proposal? You pushed your body up ready to read him. Was he joking? Maybe it was just like when he asked you to be friends or maybe it was something worse, like breaking his promise. You knew that accepting his friendship would have its perks, like the possibility of him trying to get under your pants. You were making mental jumps because of it. You knew very well the men like him, cocky, unreachable with superiority complex.

"It's not what you think" he huffed annoyed. "I'm not going to start an argument because of your lack of trust"

If you thought that you could read him, you were wrong and the worst part is that he could do that to you instead. Were you that transparent?

"I'm listening" you said trying to maintain your face neutral.

The vibe in the room changed, there wasn't that fun and easy-going atmosphere anymore. You were expecting the most mischievous proposal but instead, you were surprised when he opened his mouth.

"My mom is hosting a party and she's making me go with a plus one. I invited everyone but they all have plans. If I show up by myself she's going to be the death of me for the entire night" he murmured loud enough for you to hear. It seemed that just by saying that he was losing at least half of his pride.

"So you want me to go with you..." you stated the obvious.

"You're my last resource, don't let the invitation get over your head" he said breaking eye contact with you and rumaging through your stuff.

"Oh you do know how to make a girl feel special" you said sarcastically.

Laying down, you went back to your positions now, instead of just resting, thinking. The truth was that after imagining the worst case scenario you couldn't come with an excuse good enough to said no to him.

"What's the dress code?" you asked watching at your roof. You heard how he was picking every stuff from your desk as well as you did with his stuff on his room.

"Don't worry about it, I have something for you to wear" he answered nonchalantly

Of course he has. You said under your breath in exasperation. Now you were actually caged. There was no opportunity of saying no.

"Fine" you hummed in response.

Bakugo felt like his heart was about to explode. When he asked Denki about you and came with that idea he was expecting that you would be hard to crack. He had at least three different forms of convincing you to go to the party with him. He didn't use one.

"I'm going to pick you up tomorrow at six, be ready by that. I'll send the dress first thing in the morning"

He was finding hard to keep his neutral facade with you, like he wasn't excited about it.

"Tomorrow!?" you exclaimed standing in a quick movement. "Are you fucking with me?"

The look on your face was between a bottle of water in the middle of the dessert and a loudly clown in a silent room. He didn't know that he needed to see you in distress until now and he was quite amused at your panicked state.

"Yeah it's nothing just a stupid party with a lot of people" he rolled his eyes acting bored.

It didn't sound like nothing to you. You knew Bakugo's parents were important in the fashion industry and now he was dropping a bomb like it wasn't going about to explode in your face.

He grabbed the knob of your door and twisted it until the door was open in front of him.

"Don't you worry, it's not like there will be the most important people of Japan" he paused and then a wicked smile appeared on his face. "Oh shit, yeah there will"

He left you dumbfounded and alone with the train of thoughts that appeared right after he closed the door. And you thought you will be having a nice night of sleep? The world was messing with you again.

In his room, hanging in the doors of his closet, Bakugo had the stunning dress he had picked that afternoon after he kicked out all of his friend out of his room. A red satin long dress with an opening in the right leg. He didn't know if you had matching shoes but he make sure of that when the assitant of the shop handed him the dress. Lacy high heels he knew you would love.

Everyone knew that Bakugo was a smart man, and being in the industry for years without wanting it made him learn things unconsciously like what size people were only by looking at them. He was sure that the dress and the shoes would fit you and, of course, make you way more gorgeous than you already were.

Your night was summed up in pacing all night. You walked through your room, you rearranged your desk three times, you even changed your bed sheets a week earlier trying to succumb the anxiety rising up from the pit of your stomach.

Well, what's done is done. You already said yes and there was no enough amount of excuse that would prevent you from going.

You've never attended a nice party before. You looked up Bakugo's parents on the internet and the sight of them smiling in a picture wearing haute couture made you shrink in your position in bed. You thought about biting your nails but then a reasonable thought appeared on your mind, there was no way that you would go to that party and meet those people with your nails all bitten.

Finally, the sun was up in the sky and you made it through the night sleeping the vast amount of four hours. You felt fresh like a rotten veggie rusting in the back of the fridge.

Just as he said, a few little knocks on your door startled you right after you opened your eyes.

"Why is Bakugo sending you this?" Denki raised his left brow while raising the dress covered in a gray bag.

No hello, no how are you's, straight to the damn point.

"Uhm, where's Jirou?" If you were going to explain yourself you'll rather doing it just once.

"She went to the bathroom, she's coming tho, what's going on?" He took a step inside of the room and left the dress on top of your dresser removing the wrinkles with his hands.

"Here I am! I took a piss almost standing with a feet inside the stall and the other outside the bathroom, what the hell is going on!?"

Curious Jirou was your absolute favorite when you weren't involved in the thing she wanted to know because you were almost sure that she was just a few seconds away of grabbing your bedside table's lamp to hold it above your eyes to interrogate you.

"Bakugo invited me to this thing of his parents because no one was able to go with him, not a big deal" you waved your hand at them like it was actually nothing when you were boiling on the inside.

"Not big deal??" She exclaimed. "I took a peak of that dress and girl, that didn't seem like not a big deal" she quoted you in the air and you walked to the dress to pry inside.

The way both of your hands rose to clap your mouth shut proved Jirou right.

A red satin dress whose fabric and lacy straps screamed money and luxury to you laid flat and still in your hand-me-down duvet.

"It also came with these" Denki appeared above your shoulder with a pair of strappy heels.

You shook your head several times in disapproval. No. When Bakugo said that he had a dress, you never expected for him to casually lend you a, you could guess, a few pairs of zero dress. And heels that would match its glamor and price.

"What are you doing?" Jirou asked Denki in a hum.

"Looking at the price of this thing" He scanned the dress with his phone and shook his head and then he scanned the heels. "The dress is nowhere to be found but the heels, oh my god, don't even touch that"

"Don't be ridiculous, I don't think is that exp-" Jirou's eyes widen, and you could swear that they were about to pop out of their sockets. "Don't touch them? More like, don't breathe near them!"

"Dial his number Denki. I need to talk to him now. " You rushed to your friend while he was taking his phone out of his jacket.

"Put him on speaker," Jirou commented side eyeing you.

After a few rings, the sound of static and him clearing his throat startled the three of you.

"If something happened to that dress I swear to god-" Bakugo gruff voice echoed in your room.

"It's not that! When you said a party, I thought you meant like a casual party, almost as a jeans and top party, not a champagne toast, chandeliers and limousines party" you freaked out.

"Oh, so you liked the dress," he said, and you could practically see the smirk plastered on his face.

"There's no way I'm going to use that. The shoes cost more than my whole tuition!"

"I don't see the problem. Besides, you're not that clumsy to tear them up in just one night. I assure you nothing is going to happen, I'm going to pick you up, help you walk, and stay by your side, taking care that no one put a damn finger on it, if that is your concern"

In his own room, he was trying to keep it cool while the mere possibility of you bailing it out made his leg tremble under his desk. This was his shot. He had accepted the weird feelings he had toward you, and now he needed to taste the waters to see if there was any chance for him.

"I'm picking you up at six. Don't be late, " he hung up.

He wouldn't give you the opportunity to leave him hanging.

Classes were slower than usual. Fortunately, you had most of them with Jirou, so if you thought that she would drop the incident of the morning, you thought wrong.

"I don't know what's on his mind, but the bright side is that you have the chance to wear a nice dress for once without having to sell your soul to the devil" she said while scribbling some notes. You raised your brow at her, and she gasped. "He's not the devil"

"Since when are you a Bakugo defender?" You asked, leaning on your head on your open hand.

"I'm not his defender is just he's just behaving like a normal human being, acting like a friend, and don't forget he ate that crap the other day, for me that's like the ultimate act of love" she exaggerated.

"I wouldn't go that far," you rolled your eyes at her. "I'm with you on that, except for the latter, but I still think that he has hidden intentions." Jirou titled her head in confusion. "He's used to getting everything he wants, and normally he does, and when I appeared and opened my mouth, everything went downhill for him"

"So you think that he's only using you? For revenge? I don't think he's that wicked. " Jirou bit the tip of his pen giving it a profound thought.

"I don't know"

And for once in your life, you didn't want to know.

The same afternoon, you were at your room with your makeup and hair done. Jirou helped you to look like a decent person, and she also helped you put on your dress without leaving any stains.

"I swear to god, this is gorgeous," she exclaimed.

You admired yourself in the mirror. The fabrics traced the shape of your body in a way that almost made you faint. Growing up in an orphanage, you never had the opportunity of dressing nice. This was the first time that you actually felt like a princess.

Three knocks on the door echoed in the room. You looked at the clock, and you still had a whole fifteen minutes before Bakugo's arrival. Maybe something happened, you wouldn't have the chance to know because you didn't have his number.

You hurried to pick up some jewelry, a pair of golden earrings with a matching necklace that lay on your desk.

"Sensei?" Jirou asked and gave a step back to let Aizawa enter the room. Aizawa looked for you, and when he caught the glimpse of you dressed to the ninens, he was utterly confused.

"What's going on?" He asked slowly.

"I'm going to a party," you said, clicking the earrings to your lobes. You had a few more piercings, so you decided to look for new ones to combine.

"With Bakugo," Jirou chimed in giggling at your death stare.

"What?" Aizawa turned from Jirou to you.

"He asked me to be his plus one to one of his parent's events, no biggie," you said, clasping the back of your necklace while the two of them were talking with glances. "It's not what you are thinking"

"What am I thinking?" He pretended not having understood.

"It's not meet the parents, I swear, I'll just go, eat some boujee shit and look pretty" you shrugged.

Aizawa nodded in acknowledgment and then smiled a bit.

"You do look pretty," he said like a proud dad. "You should send a picture to Eri"

"Why don't I take the picture of the two of you?" Jirou said, excited. "You didn't have any proms, right? This could be the replacement of family photos"

You wouldn't lie. The mere idea of it made you excited, too. You had your best friend and your father figure with you in a moment you never thought you would ever have.

"Fine, but I want you out before Bakugo arrives, I don't want the: bring her in one piece show"

"Oh, don't worry, I'm going to have a serious talk with that boy," he joked.

Or that's what you thought.

Bakugo was ready to pick you thirty minutes before the time he set, so now, he had thirty minutes to pace in his room with his tux on and a lot of thoughts running through his mind.

The palms of his hands were sweating, and he restricted himself to apply more perfume on his collar. He didn't want to provoke you a headache, but he didn't want to smell like caramel either.

He went straight to his car, and although your building was almost in front of his building, he waited in the car, blasting loud music to keep his nerves on the line.

When the clock marked six pm, he made sure to lock his car and, with big steps, made his way to your building, playing with the keys on his fingers he stepped into the elevator and clicked the third floor.

The door of your room opened at the second knock, and Denki's girlfriend was the one on the other side of the wood.

"Are you ready?" She smiled widely, and Bakugo felt the emotions running in his stomach.

"Don't make a fuzz over it"

You appeared in slow motion. Well, that's how he recalls it. He was absolutely right about the dress and the heels. He felt his mouth drying just at the sight of you in front of him. Your makeup was subtle but remarked the main factions of your face. Your eyes were stunning and sparkling, and your mouth highlighted with a subtle shadow of light brown lipstick and gloss on top.

"You -" he stuttered. He cursed himself on his mind for acting like a teenager. "You look beautiful"

You smiled at him, and your cheeks went red in an instant but this time it wasn't for shame, it was purely because of his compliment.

"Let's go," he offered his arm, and you happily clung to it. You needed the balance.

"Have fun!" Jirou screamed from the door when you two walked away from her.

The ride in the car was nice. The spring breeze made you shiver a few times, but he was quick enough to pull the windows up. You thanked him in your mind.

On the other hand, Bakugo was sweating like a pig. He knew he needed to look at the road, but he was so mesmerized by your beauty that he couldn't help staring at you, giving you subtle glances.

He didn't want the ride to be silent, but he didn't know what to say without giving away too much or making a shame of himself.

He was a nervous wreck.

The two of you arrived at the venue with the sun setting on your backs. You had your arm locked on Bakugo's to maintain stability in your heels. With the heels on, he was only half of a head taller than you, so know you could actually see his eyes without killing your neck in the process.

The thematic of the party was classic and luxurious. You weren't wrong about the chandeliers and the champagne because the first thing you saw above your head was an enormous chandelier hanging from the roof, which was very far from the ground and about the champagne, after your mouth almost fell from his junction at the sight of the warm light, a waiter dressed in black waved his tray with multiples flute cups urging you to take one.

Bakugo was kind enough to take two of them and nodded at the waiter, who continued to offer them to the other guests.

Man, you needed at least three of them to just adjust yourself to the atmosphere.

"D'you like it?" He asked, offering the beverage.

"I mean, yeah, it's amazing, and I can't even begin to think the work your parents had to put on this, but I feel like an ant in a shark tank"

He smirked at your comparison.

"You look good," he assured you.

Before you could say anything a tug in your shoulder made you both turn around.

"Who's this?"

The femenine image of Bakugo was in front of you, looking at you with awe and sparkling eyes.

"I thought I'll have enough time to sneak out before bumping into you, mom." he rolled his eyes, and his mom didn't waste time smacking his shoulder with her hand.

"Don't talk to me like that, Katsuki. I'm your goddamn mother, " she flicked his son's forehead and then, like nothing happened, returned to you. "Who are you, darling?"

"She's my friend," Bakugo said before you could open your mouth. He looked constipated like he was trying so hard that you didn't talk.

"Hi, Mrs Bakugo, I'm very pleased to meet you," you said after giving her your name.

"Katsuki, I thought you'll bring your friends, this is a nice surprise." she was genuinely excited. "Are you his girlfriend or his girl-friend?" she waved her arms, stating the comparison with a playful wink that made you blush.

"She's just my friend," Bakugo answered, annoyed. "Where's dad?"

"Oh, he's over there sweeping away the candy table, I swear that man loves too much those little macaroons," she smiled at the sight of her husband. "Anyway, enjoy the party, I hope to see you again, darling," she squeezed your shoulder in her way out.

"She's cool," you said once she was out of sight.

Bakugo snorted and shook his head.

"That's because she doesn't scream at you, c'mon, let me introduce you to my dad" he grabbed your hand this time pulling you through the crowd and you didn't know how to feel about the sudden interaction.

Bakugo's dad was visibly the opposite of his mom. He was quiet, very calm and nice. He asked you about college and about your quirk. The three of you talked about random topics for almost half an hour, and you could tell that Bakugo was more relaxed around his dad than with his mom.

The party began after a speech from both of Bakugo's parents talking about the fashion industry and his own company. The start of it, the challenges they went through in the way of what was today and everything. They thanked their employees, which you found very modest of them, in the best sense of the word.

Then everyone was in their world talking to each other and laughing at the memories they shared. You and Bakugo were leaning in the bar table, asking for something else than champagne. Your tongue wasn't used to refined alcohol.

"Is it always like this?" You asked watching everyone from afar.

"Yeah, the best part is that they only do this twice a year, I need to use the bathroom. Can you stay here and wait for the drinks?" You nodded and gave him a small smile that he gave back.

In his absence, you took the time to look at your phone and replied to Jirou's text since it was just one text you needed to reply to. You started scrolling through the apps and watching stories from your friends. Mina's story appeared just after you accepted on being her friend.

The image of her and Bakugo's friend appeared in an instant. They were hanging together and playing cards in a bar while drinking beer. You felt the champagne in your stomach twirl and made you nauseous.

Why did they tell Bakugo that they were busy?

You were thinking about telling him or not when he appeared and looked above your shoulder.

"What are you doing?" He asked, raising his brow at you.

He didn't give you the time to hide the evidence, so he was very stunned when he watched his friend's story.

"I'm so sorry they lied to you," you said sadly.

His reaction took you by surprise. He wasn't sad or angry. Instead, he was stoic, he standed there thinking and looking at the abyss shuffling the options in his mind.

"It's okay, I didn't invite them," he shrugged and sat on the bar stool, taking the glass of something in his hand.

The look on your face was epic.

"What? But you told me-" you were dumbfounded.

"I know what I told you," he interrupted. "I just didn't want you to say no and I really wanted you to come"

The last time someone was so eager to spend time with you was when you were in charge of the twins, and the couple who adopted them wanted to be by their side all the time.

"Why?" You said confused by his actions.

"I wanted to know you better, like friends do." he wasn't even looking at you, focused completely on sipping from his glass. Yours was in front of you when you realized that it was a Cosmopolitan that you haven't ordered. He remembered.

"Well, I don't know what to say"

"It's okay if you're mad" he mumbled under his breath. He didn't want you to be mad.

"Mad? I'm flattered. I mean, yesterday I was the last option, and now I'm the only option you had in mind since the beginning, " you said toying with your fingers.

You didn't like any sort of lies, but you could understand why he did that. You weren't very open with anyone but your friends so it was very difficult to reach you sometimes. At least he was trying.

"So, do you like to dance, or am I just going to use this dress like a mannequin?" You said batting your long lashes at him.

"Your wishes are my commands, ma'am," he offered his hand, and you took it without hesitating.

"Oh my god, you're so damn cocky"

Your cheeky tone made butterflies erupt in Bakugo's body. That shithead of Kaminari was right. You were absolutely fun to have around.

After a few dances and a lot of drinking, at least for your part, because Bakugo had to drive you back, you were a giant mess. You felt the heat in your body and your feet staring to swell because of the dances. Bakugo was a great dancer, he knew how to sway and how twirl you without leaving you on the ground. You made fun of him multiple times and he took advantage of your state giving you the false sensation that after a spin he would actually drop you.

"I'm a mess right now," you stated the obvious. The drink was way over your head, and it made your legs feel lightweight.

"Yeah, you've stomped in my feet three times," he grinned grabbing you firmly by your waist.

"I'm sorry," you pouted. "I needed to make sure you weren't feeling so confident about your dancing skills. What a bummer! Do you really have to be good at everything? It's exhausting, Bakugo"

The way he laughed at you made you feel whole. He was genuinely laughing, heading back and relaxed shoulder. The whole starting pack of finding you funny.

"Katsuki," he returned to his normal state.

"What?" you asked. Your mind was working slowler than usual.

"You can call me Katsuki after you crushed my feet and almost teared off my arm when you thought you were falling, I think we are okay with first name basis"

Your emotions were in a state of haze. You could blame the alcohol in your veins, but you could also blame the stunning man in front of you, glancing your figure and never letting go of your skin.

He looked as hypnotized as you, but he was more in his right mind to make a subtle move.

Leaning and entering in your space, he took a loose lock of your hair with his fingers and carefully placed it behind your ear, taking the moment to hang in there for a while.

You gulped at the feeling of having him so close.

"I think we should dance one last time before we go," he whispered in your ear.

The slow music played through the speakers. Katsuki grabbed your hand, who was tiny against his big one. He placed the other hand in your waist while yours stayed in his shoulder. The intense look you were sharing gave you enough time to look at his eyes and memorize them. In the warm and fainty light, they looked brighter than other occasions, or maybe it was just because you now were taking your time to really look at them.

Katsuki felt the same way, he sweep your entire face with his eyes while guiding your dance. Your big eyes looked at him like he was the only thing in the world, the tip of your nose little red just as well as your cheeks and your lips, slightly apart and puffy, he wanted to kiss you so bad.

Would you let him? Kiss you?

He wanted to ask, but he was afraid. Bakugo Katsuki was afraid of asking a girl to please let him kiss her?

At that point, he didn't mind begging you to let him taste the sweet of your lips. He was dealing with his own devils inside of his brain. He promised you that his only intention was to be your friend, and now, after a splendid day, his own instincts were about fuck everything up or make it better.

Without even noticing, he started to lean towards you, and you were leaning as well to meet him in the middle. When he realized you were halfway to stamp your lips on his. Your eyes fluttered in between staying open and closed and he sucked his air because it was about to happen.

Ride or die, he thought.

You were inches away from each other when abruptly you shrinked in your position and your eyes snapped open in pain.

Your ankle sabotaged you.

After a little fuzz about it, where the two of you decided to forget the previous situation, you were situated in Katsuki's front seat with the help of his dad and a waiter. Your ankle was getting bigger and bigger and Katsuki couldn't stop looking at it.

"We have to go to emergencies," he stated.

You waved him off, rolling your eyes and internally screaming because of the pain. Damn high heels, you would never use them again.

"It's okay, I'll go to recovery girl tomorrow morning, and she'll do something about it"

That was the main plan. Katsuki felt stupid because with the preoccupation of you in any sort of pain, he forgot that you had all the possibilities with Aizawa being your guardian.

Once you reached your building, he made sure of leaving you safely and tucked in your bed. He even wanted to carry you bridal style to your room, but you adamantly opposed the possibility of being the main gossip of the week.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you tomorrow?" He asked for what it seemed the tenth time. Jirou, who was at his back, had a finger lifted for every time he asked that.

"It's okay, Jirou can take me, right?" You said calmly.

"Sure," she faked innocence, hiding his hands behind his back.

"Here, my number." he took your phone from his jacket and put his number on your contacts. "Text me tomorrow, or you'll have me here all day"

God forbid.

"Fine," you smirked. "I had a good time, thank you"

He tucked his hands on his pant's pockets and nodded in agreement.

When the door closed, Jirou watched you with her eyes wide open in amusement.

"I know, don't say anything," you curled up to touch your ankle and see it closely. "This look nasty"

"Girl," she stated, not believing a thing she had just seen.

...

You didn't sleep a wink from the pain. Jirou stayed all night with you icing your entire feet to deflate it, but it didn't work.

The sun was getting up in the sky, and the both of you were tired and sitting in your bed with your backs against the wall.

"Thank god the only class I have today is skippable," she said, yawning.

"Mine is not skippable but I'll make it skippable" you said changing the ice pack to your other hand. "I'll talk to Aizawa"

"Did you asked why he was here yesterday?"

You've forgotten about that.

"No" you shook your head. "I didn't even give it a thought"

She hummed in response and the two of you fell in a comfort silence where you took the chance to close your eyes a little.

"Don't you think you are playing two teams?" Jirou asked while taking the ice pack from your hand and icing your ankle herself.

Her voice startled you less than his ask.

"No," you hissed when she hit a sensitive spot. "I mean, Bakugo invited me to that thing, I said yes, we danced...very close and intimate I'm not going to lie about it and then I sprinted my ankle and now I'm here, what's that of two teams"

"You are practically panicking because of your ankle, I know you have a date with Todoroki, but maybe this is a sign." She said reading your mind.

Todoroki had crossed your mind just once and it was when you started to think in your classes and how you'll go to them in one foot.

"I can't leave him hanging." You said. "Besides, Bakugo invited me as his friend. He asked me to be his friend not a week ago, there no reason to not go to my date tomorrow"

"Fair point," she nodded. "Aren't you betraying yourself with this? Like in that blubbering mess you were last night, you explicitly told me that you felt your stomach doing a flip every time he pressed his hand on your waist"

You blamed the pain and the alcohol.

"If I don't remember, that means it didn't happen." You grinned at her, and she bumped her shoulder at you playfully

Oh, but you did remember, and it brought you mixed feelings that you didn't know how to deal with. With the sun rays of the morning stepping in your room through your curtains you couldn't help but think how fucked you were.

(Not proofread yet)

End note: I know I made you wait, but the waiting had its purpose. My winter break is over :( and since I've been updating on Wednesdays, I needed to re-schedule this to Fridays. For the wait, this chapter is longer and involves more scenarios and the "date" that I know you didn't see it coming. Bakugo surpassed Todoroki without knowing it! Devil works hard but Bakugo wanting reader works harder.

A penny for your thoughts about this (not really but express yourself)

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