#you get up in the middle of the night and see just a pair of glowing in the darkness

[pickingupmymercedes]

As you leave - Lewis Hamilton

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: As you leave - Canaan Cox

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: fluff (tooth rotting fluff)

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

It’s funny how something as simple as a word—husband—can shift everything.

Like a door clicked shut, not locking me in, but keeping the rest of the world out. Suddenly, this wasn’t just us playing house; this was us, forever, without the 'what ifs.

Waking up that morning, I felt it—the quiet shift in the air, the weight of it, the awareness that life as I knew it was different, not in a sharp, jarring way, but like the slow turning of a page.

I’d opened my eyes to the familiar warmth of Lewis beside me, the feel of his skin, his breath in rhythm with mine. The word floated around in my mind, sticking in a way that made me stop and take it all in.

This was real. This was my life now.

We had spent the last couple of nights entangled in each other, nights that seemed to stretch beyond the usual limits of time, like we both knew it had to mark the start of something new.

We'd done it so many times before, but last night...it felt different. It wasn’t about novelty, or even lust—though God knows there was plenty of that.

There was something grounding in the way we touched—like every movement wasn’t just physical, but a promise. It wasn’t about learning each other anymore; it was about being sure.

I was tired, in the best possible way. And yet, here I was, wide awake. Not in any hurry, not driven by some need to get up or get going. Because now, we had all the time in the world.

It’s funny, really—how everything feels the same but somehow, it’s not.

There's a weight to marriage, the kind that settles you in place, makes you look at your partner and know that they aren’t just another person you’re sharing a life—they’re also your home.

Lewis’s arm was slung over my waist, holding me close, like if he let go, I’d vanish.

I smiled to myself, tracing lazy circles on his skin. Husband. The word still felt foreign, like I was trying on someone else’s clothes.

I glanced over at him, his face still buried in the pillow, soft breaths fanning across my shoulder. How was it that he could look so peaceful, yet still so ridiculously attractive, even while sleeping?

I could just stare at him for hours, and some mornings, I would.

I wanted to laugh at how utterly smitten I was—like a teenager who’d just had her first kiss.

But there was nothing teenage about this love.

I shifted a little, not enough to wake him but enough to revel in the soreness I felt. I just wanted to look at him a little more, memorize the way the morning sun kissed his skin, the way his lashes rested so peacefully against his cheeks.

And maybe steal a few extra seconds before reality barged back in. Not that we had much of that to worry about out here.

We were on an island, in the middle of nowhere, no responsibilities, no schedules, nothing… just us.

And there was this quietness, this peace that came with knowing I had Lewis all to myself. Just a lazy morning in bed, wrapped in sheets and warmth, like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

“I can feel you staring at me, you know,” his voice was rough, groggy, but it was enough to send a flutter through my chest.

Caught.

I smirked, not bothering to move. “Maybe I just like looking at my husband. Sue me.”

“Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll have to keep you in this bed all day” he murmured, tightening his grip on me, pulling me even closer. I could feel the solidness of his chest pressed against my back, his lips brushing the back of my neck.

My heart stuttered at the warmth of his words, but I couldn’t resist teasing him. “Promises, promises” I shot back, turning my head just enough to see his sleepy grin.

"Morning, Mrs. Hamilton" he murmured when he saw me looking at him, voice gravelly from sleep, that smile I loved playing at his lips as he leaned down to kiss my shoulder.

“Mmm,” I hummed against the skin on his arm. “Two days in and you’re already using the title. Bold.”

“It’s official, isn’t it?” he mused, rolling me slightly so he could look at me properly, his eyes crinkling with that same look of complete adoration he’s had since the day we met. "Feels like a long time coming."

I stretched, playfully kicking my legs out from under the sheets. “I’ve been stuck with you for years, it’s not like anything’s changed.”

He raised an eyebrow. “It sure felt different last night.”

And there it was, the easy banter that was us.

I felt myself grow warmer, a reminder of way his touch still burned my skin even now. “We’re pros at this point.”

“Not the same” he smirked, eyes scanning me with that familiar hunger I’d become so used to. “Not as husband and wife”

I rolled my eyes, swatting at his chest, but my grin gave me away. “Okay, okay, fine”

Lewis chuckled softly, pulling me closer as his hand traced light circles on my bare back.

The softness of his touch always surprised me, as if he had the power to both break and rebuild me with just a graze of his fingertips. It wasn’t urgent, like before. It was slower, more deliberate, like we had all the time in the world now to just... be.

And in a way, we did.

“It does feels different, though, doesn’t it?” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper, surprising myself with the admission. “Being married”

His thumb brushed over my cheek, his eyes locking onto mine. “It does”

I blinked, trying to put into words what had been swirling in my mind all morning. “I mean, we've been doing this for so long. Living together, traveling together. But waking up today… I don’t know, it just feels real.”

He nodded, his lips brushing against my forehead as if sealing the thought. “I get it. I feel it too. We’re locked in.”

I snorted, the sarcasm coming out of me before I could stop it. “Well, ‘locked in’ sounds a little ominous.”

He laughed, his chest vibrating under my head. “You know what I mean, smartass. We’ve crossed that line, for good”

“We did” I echoed, feeling the weight of it in the best possible way.

It was true—there was no rush, no ticking clock. No matter what came next, no matter how crazy life got with his schedule or mine, this... this was ours.

I propped myself up on my elbow, looking down at him. “So, what’s the plan for today, husband?” I dragged the word out, watching the way his face lit up every time I used it.

He shrugged, his hand still tracing those soothing circles on my back. “Unless you’ve got better plans, I was thinking we could stay right here.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “We’re in paradise, and you want to stay in bed?” I gestured to the beautiful villa around us, the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore just outside the window.

Lewis smirked, pulling me back down on top of him. “This view, right here, is pretty great.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t help the smile that spread on my lips.

The way he looked at me, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered, never got old. Even after all these years, even after all the ups and downs, he still looked at me like I hung the moon.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “We can explore tomorrow. Today, it’s all about this…��� He pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “And this…” Another kiss, this time to the curve of my neck.

I sighed, already lost in him, in the warmth of his skin against mine, the way he always knew how to make me feel like the only woman in the world.

I cupped his face in my hands, pulling him down toward me again, kissing him slowly, deeply, like I was grounding myself in him. Because I was.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered against his lips, smiling as I saw the flicker of contentment in his eyes.

“Good,” he said, resting his forehead against mine. “Because all I need is more of you”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. “That’s a bit dramatic”

“Maybe,” he grinned, kissing me again, this time slower, more deliberate.

“If you insist, I suppose I can clear my schedule.” I sighed dramatically, his lips still almost touching mine.

“Generous” he murmured, lips grazing the side of my head.

We laid there in comfortable silence for a few moments, the kind of silence only years of being together could create. No need for constant chatter, no rush to fill the space with words.

Just us, in the moment, married and completely content.

“Hey,” Lewis said after a while, his voice soft but serious. “Thank you.”

“For?” I asked, tilting my head to look up at him.

“Staying. Through all of it.” His hand brushing at my cheeks, his touch tender. “I know it’s not always easy.”

I felt my heart swell, the emotion catching me off guard. “You’re worth it.”

He smiled, leaning down to kiss me again, his lips warm and familiar. “Here’s to forever, then.”

I smiled against his lips, feeling the weight of those words settle around us like a warm blanket. “Forever it is.”

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo

@hiireadstuff @f1-football-fiend

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[joeybsblackgf]

perfect - joe burrow

pairing: joe burrow x black!fem!reader

genre: smut, fluff

word count: 2.7k

content warnings: breeding kink, whisper of a daddy kink, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), they’re really in love

synopsis: joey just loves how perfect you are.

playlist: juno - sabrina carpenter

authors note: a hot, new joe burrow writer has entered the villa. hope u love it !! and if u like kpop u can check out my other works on @gojosnympho 🫶🏾

you didn’t go to a lot of joe’s away games. mainly because even though you were the girlfriend to a very rich and successful man, you were still a regular girl with a regular job and a regular life outside of him. you both preferred it that way, honestly. joe took comfort in the normalcy of you. being around you felt easy because you weren’t looking at him as joe burrow the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals. you were looking at him as joey, your boyfriend.

he came home monday night to the smell of you cooking dinner. he hadn’t even realized how hungry he was until the scent invaded his nostrils. he dropped his bags by the front door, promising himself that he’d get them later. the closer he got to the kitchen he could hear your sweet voice, very obviously singing along to whatever song was playing in your ears.

“how you let him cheat and take him back? must be your only nigga.” you rapped along with latto while you took the pan from the oven.

joe only watched you, taking in your comfy appearance. a tiny tank top, the shortest sleep shorts you could find, your bengals slippers, and of course a scarf on your head to protect your braids. his eyes were glued to your ass and the way the cheeks peeked out beneath the short fabric. you turned to see your boyfriend standing in the door of the kitchen, your heart leapt into your throat at the shock that ran through your body. you snatched your airpod out of your ear.

“god joey, you scared the fuck out of me!” you exclaimed. his heart fluttered at the name you called him, further proving his point of how you saw him.

“sorry, you just looked like you were locked in. i didn’t wanna disturb you.”

now that you were turned around, he saw just how tiny that tank top was. he could make out your brown nipples beneath the thin fabric and that fucking belly button ring with the diamond encrusted “j” dangling from it. his eyes trailed up to your face. that perfect, beautiful face that he had as his lock screen on his phone.

“it’s okay, baby boy! i cooked. are you hungry?” you asked him, not even aware of what you were doing to him. he didn’t know what it was about you but he felt like a teenager all over again because of the way he couldn’t control his body. he ignored his urges though, opting to give you a curt nod.

“starving,” joe replied.

“sit down then so i can make your plate.”

again, he nodded going to take a seat at the marble topped island in the middle of the kitchen. he watched you some more, his heart swelling once more with all the love he had for you. he didn’t think it was possible to love someone as much as he loved you. you sat his plate down in front of him and before you could walk away, joe pulled you into a kiss.

“what was that for?” you asked him when he pulled back.

“i love you,” joe said, his cheeks flushing that rosy pink color that made your heart melt.

“i love you too, joey.”

you walked away from him once more, this time to make your own plate. you were going to sit next to him but joe stopped you, “sit on my lap.”

he didn’t even give you a chance to answer before he was dragging your body onto his lap.

“isn’t this uncomfortable for you?” you asked joe who promptly shook his head no.

“is it uncomfortable for you?”

“no.”

“then relax and eat. i missed you, mama. i just wanna be around you,” he explained.

you talked some more while you ate dinner. you told joe all about what you got up to while he was away. he listened intently like he always did whenever you spoke to him.

“i miss you so much when i’m away. you gotta come with me to the next away game,” joe said with a hopeful tinge to his voice.

“okay!” you agreed, enthusiastically.

“you're so perfect,” he praised you. he placed a kiss atop your scarf-covered head.

once you both were settled for the night and about to get in bed, joe caught another glimpse of your nipples beneath your shirt. it reminded him of just how long he’d gone without being inside of you, three days. you crawled into bed next to the quarterback, none the wiser about the dirty thoughts swirling in his head. he pulled your body close to his so that you were pressed flush against his bare chest. the warmth of his body made you relax almost instantly. you missed him just as much when he was gone; even if it was just for a few days.

the cuddling started out innocently enough. you were both enjoying each other’s presence and warmth. joe absentmindedly began to stroke your arm with his deft fingers. you didn’t pay it any mind at first. you were just enjoying your boyfriend’s featherlight touches. he stopped those and used that hand to pull you in almost impossibly close. you gasped when you felt his erection poking you in the back.

“do you see what you do to me?”

“joey,” you breathed out.

“you’re so beautiful and so fucking perfect.”

he began to mouth kisses on your shoulder, his hand snaking around your neck to pull your head towards him so he could kiss you properly.

“been wanting to fuck you since i got home,” he admitted, his lips still against yours. he flipped you over on your back, his big frame on top of your much smaller one. “i’m so lucky to call you mine.”

joe put his lips against yours again, pushing his tongue past your lips to kiss you. it felt like he was replacing all the air in your lungs with his own. his hands began to trail over every part of your body making you ache with need. you could still feel how hard he was from where you laid beneath him.

“can i make you feel good, baby?” joe asked you, his lips ghosting against yours in a way that had every inch of your being begging for more.

“please,” you nodded.

he started to suck on the skin on your neck because he knew how much it made you squirm. once he was satisfied that he’d marked you up he began to kiss down your body. he pulled your tank top up and over your head and sucked in a breath at your exposed breasts. joe wasted no time sucking one of the stiff peaks into his mouth. you softly moaned at the sensation. no matter how many times you found yourself in this situation, joe playing with your body, you could never get enough. his other hand tweaked your unoccupied nipple drawing even more moans from your throat. your hands were planted firmly on his shoulders while you laid there in pure bliss. he let go of one nipple with an obscene pop and quickly found purchase on the other nipple. the cold air hitting your spit-slick nipple made goosebumps arise on your skin.

“let me see how wet you are,” joe grumbled. he kissed down your body to the waistband of your poor excuse for shorts. he tugged on them so you lifted up so he could pull them down your legs. “shit, no panties?” he asked when he realized the only thing that was shielding him from your pussy was the flimsy fabric.

“i knew you were coming home, joey,” you told the blue eyed man who was between your legs.

“yeah? you were ready for me?” he asked, using his finger tips to give the insides of your thighs those featherlight touches that made you ache.

“i’m always ready for you.”

joe felt his dick twitch in his boxers. he focused his attention back on your wet pussy. it was glistening with arousal. your clit swollen and begging to be touched. your little hole winking in anticipation. you whined at joe, wanting him to do something—anything. he kissed all around where you needed him the most; he was teasing you in the worst way possible. you whined again. this time pushing your hips up toward him hoping he’d finally eat you out. instead, he pinned your hips down to the mattress.

“relax,” joe said.

he moved his hands back between your legs. this time though, he used his calloused fingertips to spread your lips, “i know i say it all the time. but fuck baby, your pussy is so fucking pretty.”

your cheeks warmed at the dirty compliment. although you didn’t really get a chance to fully bask in it because he was pushing one of his long fingers inside of your pussy. your walls fluttered happily around it, sucking it in with urgency. he added another finger, scissoring you open for his dick. he brought his lips to your clit to give it a soft kiss and you felt electricity shoot through your body. he took the swollen bud between his lips, sucking on it. your hands went to push his head deeper into your needy pussy.

“that feels good, joey,” you hummed.

you grind your pussy all over his tongue, using his mouth to bring yourself to an orgasm. joe laid there pliantly, letting you use him because he loved the way you looked right now. he hooked his fingers inside of you, his mouth still busy pleasuring your clit. you whined out, your chest rising and falling in a quick pattern that made joe aware of how close you were to cumming.

“oh my fucking god!” you cried out. you dug your nails into your boyfriends shoulders as your orgasm came crashing down. you squeezed around his fingers as you creamed all over them.

you relaxed into the plush sheets of the bed, completely in awe of how quickly you had just come undone. you didn’t know why you were still in shock after all this time. joe knew your body. he knew what made you tick. what made you cum all over him with just a few measly pumps of his fingers and flicks of his tongue.

“taste yourself,” he said, bringing his cream-covered fingers to your lips. you opened your mouth and sucked his fingers clean, moaning at the heady taste of your cum.

“want your dick in me. please,” you begged him. you felt heat pooling in your stomach once more. you were ready to give him however many orgasms that he could coax out of you.

you tugged his briefs down until his dick flopped out. you couldn’t help but to moan at the sight of it. the tip was swollen and red with precum just pooling, waiting to be sucked off. you took one delicate finger and swiped the clear liquid off and promptly placed that same finger in your mouth. joe watched you with hooded eyes, his dick twitching with excitement. you wrapped your much smaller hand around him and began pumping him. you never broke eye contact with him while you jerked him off. you watched as he fell apart from your touch, his eyes glossed over in pure bliss

“that feel good, joey?” you asked him.

“you’re so fucking perfect,” he said for what felt like that millionth time tonight. but each time he said it you felt butterflies float around in your tummy.

“can you fuck me? i’ve been such a good girl,” you said. your voice was so soft and so pretty and so fucking submissive.

joe leaned down to capture your lips in a filthy kiss. he pushed your hand away from his dick, opting for his own to line up at your entrance. inch by inch he pushed into you causing you to gasp against his lips. you were sure you could feel him in your stomach and that feeling alone had tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. joe pulled away from your lips but not before giving you a gentle peck. he started off slow; he rolled his hips coaxing tiny gasps from you when you felt the tip of his dick rub against your sweet spot.

“you’re so tight, mama,” joe said.

“all for you, daddy,” you replied airily, already reeling from how good your boyfriend felt inside of you.

joe let a throaty moan spill past his lips at the nickname before speaking, “i’m gonna make you a mama tonight for real if you don’t chill out.”

“please,” you begged, squeezing around him. “we would make such a pretty baby, joey.”

he closed his eyes to compose himself because he was sure he was gonna break you if he didn’t. he rolled his hips again, knocking any other bratty comments out of your throat. he opened his eyes to see you below him. you looked fucked out: pupils blown wide, lips swollen, and a thin sheen of sweat. joe grabbed hold of your hips to anchor your body to the bed as he began to give you those strokes that had you crying out to him. joe looked down to where your bodies were so beautifully connected to marvel at the creamy ring that began to form.

“fuck…” he trailed, his eyes still transfixed on the obscene sight. “you missed me this much?” he teased you.

you could only give a small nod; you were so lost in the pleasure. but so was joe. his eyes were screwed tight at just how good you felt wrapped around him, so wet, tight, and warm. he fluttered his eyes back open though to look down at you.

“i love you so fucking much,” you told him, voice strained with lust. and fuck, he could’ve knocked you up right there. your big, brown, glossed-over eyes met his and the words that came out of your pretty, kiss-bitten lips next made him stop moving inside of you out of fear that he’d cum too early: “w-wanna have your baby.”

you whined at him. you started moving your own hips to get some type of friction but he stopped your movements.

“you’re gonna make me cum early if you don’t chill out,” joe explained to you. but his words meant nothing to you in that moment and you told him as much.

“but that’s what i want you to do, daddy,” you said. “want you to cum in me, please?” you pleaded with the man above you.

“shit,” he mumbled under his breath. he started moving again, this time he was pounding you. your eyes rolled into the back of your head because you could feel his tip bumping against that spot that was gonna make you cream all over his dick.

you couldn’t speak or even think for that matter. the only thing that mattered in that moment was joe. you wrapped your thighs around his waist, pulling him impossibly close just how he had done earlier. you gasped into his ear at how deep you could feel him inside of you. joe buried his face in your neck and nipped at your skin to add another hickey to the already blemished flesh. having sex with him was always like this, full of passion and unadulterated love.

“i love you so fucking much, too,” joe murmured into your neck, replying to your statement from earlier.

your orgasm began to sneak up on you. your tummy began to tingle and you could feel the way your walls started to flutter around joe’s dick. he groaned at the sensation, his hips stuttering when he felt it.

“you gonna cum, baby?” he asked you. you didn’t have to answer because the way you felt wrapped around him gave him all the confirmation he needed. “cum for me and i promise i’ll give you a baby.”

that’s all it took for you to let that band in your belly snap and your orgasm wash over you, “fuck, joey! fuck!” were the only words you could say as your walls spasmed around him. almost simultaneously, joe let his own orgasm take over. rope after rope of his seed filled you to the brim, making good on his promise to at least try to get you pregnant.

“you’re so fucking perfect.”

[princessbrunette]

ᡣ𐭩 ｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅PRINCESSBRUNETTES SCREAM SALON INTRODUCES … ໒꒰ྀི ˃̵ ࿁ ˂̵ ꒱ྀིა

GIBSON GIRL ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

♩ethel cain — gibson girl ♩

pairing: toxicbf!jj x reader

cw: jealousy, manhandling, exhibitionism, outdoor sex, cnc, degradation, toxic relationship, one spank.

you are responsible for your own media consumption. welcome to kinktober day four.

you’d liked to think you’d done nothing wrong.

jj knew what you were when he started dating you — friendly, sociable, a party girl, infact you’d even say those were some of the things that drew him to you in the first place.

as you step up to the chateau, having walked there in a pair of sandals that were rubbing your feet just a little too much, and your eyes dry from last nights drinking antics at the kegger — you could already tell jj wasn’t pleased with you from the look on his face.

he’s leaning up against that big tree outside the house, smoking a cigarette. jj was an avid stoner, yes — but he only smoked cigs when he was mad. you sigh, leaves crunching under your tread. in the back of your mind you note the uncharacteristic, slight chill in the air too — an introduction to the muggy autumn weather the obx briefly gets once a year.

“yeah i’m like shocked you even came.” jj calls out before you’re close enough, glancing between you and the cig he was now stomping out beneath his sneaker, twisting his ankle to smush it into the dirt.

“why?” your voice rasps, still that little bit hung over. jj laughs, bitterly and he doesn’t look at you— whipping his hat off and raking a hand through matted blonde hair before shoving it back on. oh, here we go.

“thought you’d like — leave to go fuck some other dude. y’know, seein’ as our relationship just means jack shit to you.” he shrugs like he doesn’t care but the look in his eyes tells you everything.

“what have i done now, jj?” you lean on your hip and he meets you in the middle on the grass, licking over sore, thin red lips.

“so you’re just gonna pretend you weren’t shakin’ your ass for the whole of the cut last night? lettin’ juuuust everyone see up your skirt? you got a man so like, you can’t just act single — i dunno know, that’s just my opinion—”

“you’re mad at me for dancing? at a party?” you step up to him which you know was a mistake as soon as his eyes flutter slightly as he glares down at you, suddenly pinning his mouth shut— jaw slightly clenched.

“yeah you’re right. i’m crazy, huh?” his nostrils flare, eye contact persisting. truthfully, yeah — he was, which is why you struggled to stand on business, not knowing what his next move might be. you shrink a millimetre in stature but you know he notices. “nah, don’t back down now. say it. say m’crazy mama.” he enters your space, filled was rage and smelling like marlboro reds.

“i’m not doing this—” you go to move past him, but he grabs you by the waist, even when you fight. “jj get off!”

“yeah we are, yeah we’re fucking doing this babe—” you speak over eachother frantically as you struggle until he’s wrestled you to the ground on your front, pressing your cheek into the dirt with a hand on the back of your head. you feel those thick cheap rings digging into your skull.

“acting like you don’t like this shit or something.” he scoffs as he straddles the back of your thighs. he’s rough, rougher than usual because there’s real anger behind each move and your heart pounds in your chest. what’s it called when you love someone so much you let them do whatever they want to you? even if it’s not warranted? it seemed like every guy round here was the same. no different from the rafes of the world — just violent and dirty and cruel. yet you couldn’t live without jj.

“jj, you’re — i don’t —”

“you didn’t mind showin’ off infront of everyone last night so you don’t mind if i just take what i want right here, right? nah, course you don’t.” he mutters, not even considering expecting a reply from you as you starts to fight your wriggling hips out of your denim shorts, sliding them down your ass. anyone could come by and see this obscene act, so naturally you felt hot all over and sadly, sickeningly aroused despite the thick knot in your stomach.

“s’not like that.” you whine, tears in your eyes as you turn your head toward the house— coming into direct eye contact with john b, who stood in the window with a mug of coffee.

he wouldn’t admit it, but john b didn’t mind all the borderline violent scuffles that you and jj would get into. bruises on your body from the rough and degrading sex showcased up and down your thighs when you’d lounge on the boat with the pogues, or red scratching of the word ‘MINE’ carved into jj’s back from your fingernails when his insta following would go up. for the most part he figured it was just kinky sex, nothing he wasn’t familiar with — but he had to say, he took a weird sick pride in hearing about you getting punished.

since dating you, you’d eaten up a good chunk of the time john b gets to spend with jj alone. jj used to be down for anything, would drop anything and anyone to be at his best friends side— and maybe john b had been selfish in letting that continue on to the point of expecting it. anytime he’d get time with the blonde, there you’d be nagging at the corners of the conversation or arriving unannounced to start something. it had gotten to the point where he too had began to indulge in violent sexual fantasies toward you, getting his own chance to put you in your place. you’re not one of us, he’d say — because he’s tired of being the kind and mature one.

“jj, j—john b is there you can’t—”

he’s already got your panties down, spreading your folds open to look at you a little too widely to the point you wince, jerking.

“alright and so what, it’s just john b. you didn’t care ‘bout all the extra eyes last night.” he shrugs one shoulder which surprises you. for someone so possessive, he really didn’t care.

when he pushes himself into you, you’re still locking eyes with the brunette through the dusty window. john b was typically courteous and would pretend to look away when jj would get to aggressively fondling you, but now he stares — puppy eyed and unabashed like he was doing nothing wrong, bringing the mug to his lips to take a leisurely sip as his best friend fucks you in the dirt. you even swear you see him shaking his head, all disappointed and dad like.

despite your walls clasping and clenching around jj, your head pounds and eyes burn with humiliation so you continue to squirm. maybe, somewhere deep in your mind you only squirm because you know that jj wants the fight, he wants you to struggle and suffer and pay for what you did. learn a lesson, so he’d say. despite everything, despite this — you just wanted to please him.

“had to make sure no one’s been breakin’ in these pretty tight holes babe, you understand right?” he pants, hands pressing into your back to keep you still. you already know the front of your clothes is ruined with dirt and mud.

you let out a pathetic groaned whimper similar to a ‘hnnnng’ sound as your brows furrow in defeat, eyes dropping to the way john b strains against his shorts, only turning to walk away when you watch him adjust himself. somehow, it makes your cunt flutter more and you wait for the blow of jj’s realisation.

a hard smack on your ass, there it is.

“my god, dude of course you’re gettin’ off on this. i knew you were a slut but jesus, way to prove it to me.”

[madamechrissy]

☆ Hypnotic taking over me ☆

☆ Pairings: Inumaki Toge x Fem reader

☆ Content/warnings: 18+, explicit, oral sex (f and m receiving), first time (for Toge) rough sex, freaky sex outta nowhere lol, normal world AU but that speech still does things

☆ Word count: 5.2k

☆ Summary: You have been gaming buddies with Inumaki Toge forever, and you have had a crush on your silent friend. You speak through texts on your phone, and you let it blurt you think he's hot during a game sesh. You then hear him speak, and... well the gaming is done for the night.

☆ A/N: This was an anon request for aged up Inumaki Toge x F reader <3 They're twenty one here. Cute smutty fluff, they're shy and awkward. Hope you like it, Anon!

You and your best friend and gaming buddy, Inumake Togé- otherwise known as the ‘Silent Slayer’- are currently side by side in your gamer chairs, in your fortress of solitude (aka your living room), armed with controllers like two valiant knights preparing for battle. The mission? To conquer yet another level of the bizarre, pixelated universe that you both enjoy navigating.

Inumake has always been the quiet type, he rarely spoke at all, but you enjoyed the quiet, especially as your work has you on the phone all day. You all had met online, gaming, and had gotten to know each other through typing mostly, and fuck if he wasn’t absolutely hilarious on there. When you first met up in real life, you expected him to be outgoing, wild…

But he was quiet, so quiet he rarely would speak, opting to text you non stop instead and smile at you slyly, with black swirling tattoos on his cheeks and tongue even that made you…

You like him, you really like him, this boy next to you in his big hoodie, with his ash blond hair glimmering under the lights of your living room, of his pretty smile, and his violet eyes. You find yourself lost in them at times, and he’ll shoot you a silly text, which you’ll laugh at.

Toge: You slackin’, lil homie.

You glare at him, and he just grins.

“Me, slacking? Nah, you’re just running in the middle swinging that damn sword! I’m playing the smart game!” You retort, and he smirks.

Toge: You scared?

“Scared, me? Pshh.” You stick your tongue out at him, and he texts you again, sticking his own out and… doing things to you, shit.

Toge: You’re off today, bruh.

You roll your eyes, sighing as your thumbs roll over the soft rubber pads of the controllers and narrowing your eyes, focusing on the screen again, ignoring the odd heat in your core. You had not much experience for being twenty one, but you’d done some things, you’d had a boyfriend back in the day you’d had awkward sex with once upon a time.

You masturbated, you weren’t some super innocent girl, but… you feel that way, with him, like some high school butterflies in your tummy. When he hugs you tight, when he ruffles your hair, when he puts playful kisses on your cheek. When he tickles you, when you all play fight, you all really were the best of friends, if only you could ignore the gnawing ache he leaves.

You have no clue how to tell him, as you’re so far in the friend zone it’s ridiculous, you both can spend hours together slaying dragons, leveling up, and engaging in epic quests. And he has never really spoken, you haven’t even heard his voice, you wonder at times what it sounds like…

But you were perfectly content with the silence, there was Inumaki’s ridiculous trap music blaring, and of course his soft laugh, which you did enjoy to hear. But things keep getting more muddled in your mind the more you all hang out. Tonight he was staying at your place, as you all were sipping on some wine along with the pizzas you’d ordered.

Maybe that was it, him staying the night, that makes the air feel charged, like static electricity before a storm. Or maybe it is the little bit of wine in your system, is that why you’re feeling particularly giddy and light-headed? Or is it that he’s now taking off his hoodie, laying it on the back of the chair, and you can see lithe muscles under a thin white shirt?

Toge: Ya staring, haha caught ya. I’m hot, huh?

You snort as you read your phone, but then you take a sip for courage, and finally say it. “You’re very hot, Toge.”

He pauses then, you expect some silly, goofy text, but he’s… blushing, a pretty pink flush on his cheeks, as he looks down nervously, clearing his throat, opening his lips as if to speak. You clutch the gaming chair arm with one hand, nervously sitting up then, sucking in a breath at the idea. But then he turns away, rubbing the back of his neck.

You panic.

“I am so sorry, oh my god. Wine I guess? Um… please ignore me.” You get up then, heart pounding in your ears, so embarrassed, he clearly just wanted to be friends, he’d never even complimented your looks, it was always friendly banter. “I’m sure I’m not your type.”

Your grumble under your breath isn’t missed, though you think he must not have heard it, and you’re back in the kitchen, pouring more white wine in your glass, blinking back tears. You’re going to ruin your friendship, because you’re hopeless for him, for your quiet gamer buddy who’d shown you no interest. So hopeless you turn down dates to game with him.

What’s up with you?

You jump then, as his hands touch your shoulders, and you turn to look up at him, you feel his body heat behind you, enwrapping you, making you tremble with intense need that rocks through you. Toge gently brushes your hair back then, and you look up into his violet gaze with shocked eyes, as it feels so intimate, not like what you’re used to.

“Pretty.” He says, and you suck in a breath, as he starts to cough then, looking away as he does, before sucking in a breath. “You’re pretty.”

That’s his voice!?

This deep, sexy voice in this little gamer body? You’re hot between your thighs now, shifting them, as he takes a deep breath, clearing his throat again. You step a little closer, as your matching converse sneakers touch each other just so, and you find your hand sliding up his chest, making him blush again. But he doesn’t stop you, he just watches, eyes going lidded.

“That’s your voice, Toge?” He nods, and you exhale. “It’s so… hot. I’m sorry your voice is hot.”

He laughs softly, shaking his head, as you drop your hand, but he puts it back on his chest, and something… shifts. He doesn’t speak with his words again, but it’s something in how he’s looking at you, in how his hand is gently holding your wrist, in how good he smells, how his lips are parted just so.

“You think I’m pretty?” You ask softly, and he nods eagerly, pulling out his phone then and typing.

Toge: You’re so pretty. I thought you knew that lil homie?

“You’ve never said that before.” You say then, and he sighs, brows together as he types once more.

Toge: I didn’t wanna make it awkward, read the room bruh.

“Read the room, I was hitting on you. Ugh.” You step back, turning away again, sipping the wine, tart on your tongue. “I am being dumb, I know we’re just friends. Maybe wine makes me horny.” He coughs then, and you look back to see his eyes wide, making you blush now, looking away. “I’m sorry, I’m on one huh? Let’s go pick a movie?”

He just nods, and you sigh.

“I’ve made it awkward. Promise I’ll be your homie.” You ruffle his hair now, and he frowns a bit as you move the chairs out of the way, tossing him the remote.

“You pick something, I’ll get more snacks!” Inumaki Toge may be staring at your ass currently, no let’s be real, he is staring, you’re wearing your little soft gym shorts that drive him crazy, but he can’t tell you that, can he? That all he does is stare at you when you’re not looking.

That he thinks of you as he strokes his cock at night, of licking your pretty pussy as you’re gaming, just to distract you and make you fuck up. You are a better gamer than him, he could really throw you off. Or he imagines you surrounding his cock, just making you sit there as he’s thrust inside you, and you’re whining and whimpering as you throb around him.

How does Inumaki tell you when he can’t talk? And even when he does, he feels so nervous, he’s so much better through texting, through typing to you on that game. Fuck even typing he knew you must be beautiful, your mind, your personality, how sweet and shy you are, when you’re such a knockout.

He hungrily eyes your thighs as you bend over to get something out of the fridge, and his cock gets hard under his sweats, straining against his boxers as he pictures shoving his cock between them. Inumaki was a virgin, however he would try his best if he ever got a chance with you.

Look at you, look at your breasts bouncing in that tank that’s a little too tight on you, look at those nipples perking up since you have no bra. He gulps, his throat already sore from speaking, but he would take any pain for you, if he could grab that waist, those hips in his hands. If you were on him.

After you’ve returned with snacks and sat down, you’ve settled in, the awkwardness is still lingering, something feels a little different. Toge’s pretty eyes keep darting over to you, and you pretend not to notice, popping popcorn into your mouth, tossing one playfully at him.

You’re both leaning against the armrests, creating an invisible barrier, until you get to a particular scary part, and you squeal, burying your face in his shoulder. You’re covering your face, and he laughs, that breathy, soft sound, his hand sliding around your waist. You tense up, but his eyes are on the TV, as if he’s not even aware of what he’s doing.

But you’re aware, fuck you’re aware.

You stay that way now, exhaling nervously, tentatively leaning against him, your hand on his thigh as you’re snuggling against him on the couch. You’re so aware of every breath he makes, of his heart thrumming, and you’re aware of his thumb, making gentle, lazy circles on your waist, under your breasts, where you’re bare with your cropped shirt.

You swallow hard, trying to focus on the movie, the women running and screaming from the masked killer, but his hand feels like it’s burning through you. It’s not too far, he just watches the movie, caressing you, and soon you relax into it, eyes fluttering shut for a moment at how good it feels.

Now his fingertips are brushing up and down the side of your waist, leaving little goosebumps in their trail, and you don’t say anything, you don’t want to ruin this  moment or make him stop, it feels so, so good, as you sink into him, against your soft gray couch. So you sit there, with his hand on you, doing things to your psyche, like his caresses are sending signals in your brain.

You lean your head on his shoulder, surprisingly strong for him being slim, you notice he’s so strong as your hand slides up a bare bicep, and he tenses then, you internally curse, wondering if you shouldn’t, but then he relaxes. You hear him gulp audibly, as his hand begins sliding up your back, to your neck, playing with your hair, his breathing even out.

His fingers massaging your scalp feel so good you damn near purr like some fucking cat, it’s so quiet, it always is with Toge, but his hands speak more than anything else could. As the movie plays on, you feel your own walls crumbling, that resolve to stay friends and not be awkward is failing. Fuck you just want to kiss him, your breath is on his neck as he keeps his gentle caresses up.

He starts running his hand up and down your back, his thumb circling the base of your neck, sending shivers down your spine, desire hot in your tummy, and you can’t help but lean into him more, closing your eyes and letting out a content sigh, before saying fuck it. You kiss his throat, feeling his hot skin under your lips, and he jerks then, making you back away.

“Toge, I’m so sorry. Shit. I’m stupid.” You pull back, covering your face, legs trembling and knees knocking just from that little bit of touching. “I don’t know what’s wrong with-”

“Come here.” You gasp as he speaks once more, and you nervously feel your cheeks heat up when you see it, a bulge under his sweats. And fuck if it’s not a big one too.

“Come here?” He nods then, clearing his throat, pulling you onto his lap, and your head falls back in pleasure as you press against him where you’re so hot and eager. “Embarrassing.”

He shakes his head, as if to let you know it’s not, his full lips glossy, running his hands up the sides of your body. You roll your hips, making him suck in a breath, his violet eyes dilated, pupils pinpoints, making them so bright you just melt, as you lean forward, placing hands on his shoulders.

“Is this okay, Toge?” You ask, and he nods eagerly, pushing your hips down now, hands on the sensitive skin of your upper thighs, and his bulge is sliding right between your puffy lips. “Mnh!”

“Fuck.” He whispers, and then you lose it, hearing his hot voice cuss is maybe the sexiest thing that you’ve felt. You gasp, then grind again, hearing his soft moan under his breath, and that’s just what you want, you want him.

You eagerly lean down, and he leans up, hands now grabbing your ass, as your lips meet for the first time, and you’re drinking him in, now tasting him, salty and sweet from your snacks and drinks. He’s so delicate with you, how he kisses you, how his tongue swirls in your mouth, dancing with yours as he bucks his hips up, his tip bumping your clit.

“Fuck!” It’s your turn to cuss, as your head falls back, leading him to kiss down your throat eagerly, his tattooed tongue hot and eager on your throat, making you wildly wonder what else it does, making you even wetter. You cry out when he bites your skin between his teeth. “Mmm!”

He exhales, and you pull back, hungry for him, kissing down his neck, rubbing his length, and you get between his knees, sinking to your own on your soft carpet, untying his sweats. He halts you, grabbing your wrists then, and you get just a glimpse of his pelvis, soft hair right above his cock, two v cuts of muscle on either side, and the sight alone makes you soaked.

“I wanna suck you, please?” You ask, eyelashes fluttering as you look up at him, and he gulps, not letting your wrist go. “Fuck, is this too far?”

He opens his mouth a few times, before he whispers- “Virgin.”

“Oh, that’s okay! I have only been with one guy, so not too experienced. Um, do you wanna wait?” You ask, and he brushes your hair back gently, caressing your face, his thumb brushing your lower lip. He shakes his head then, and you smile, pulling his sweats down, eyes widening as you reveal him.

His cock is way bigger than you thought, it doesn’t even make sense anatomically on his body, Toge isn’t tall and he’s skinny, but his cock? Jesus. It’s pretty and long, with a pink tip leaking precum, your hand is so tiny it’s not even covering half of his cock whatsoever. His hand grips your hair, pulling, then he lets go at your whine as if he’s scared.

“No, I like it, Toge.” You put his hand back on your hair, flicking your tongue on his tip then, and he gasps, his hand tightening in your hair again, making you even wetter between your thighs. “Do you like it?” He nods, and you lick him again, watching those long blond lashes lower over his pretty eyes, then they squeeze shut for just a moment as you take him in your mouth.

You suck the tip of him, rolling your tongue along the ridge, tasting the salty precum mixed with his skin, and you look up at him as you stroke him with your hand, sucking him up and down now. He’s moaning, huffing, his cheeks reddening just a bit, yanking you down more, shoving his cock up. You gag a bit and he pulls back, you see his face full of worry.

“You can do that, it’s okay.” You say, and he shakes his head again, caressing your face gently, and you smile softly, taking him back into your mouth, up and down, but he’s gentle in his movements, careful. You suck him down your throat then, his hips buck in response, both his hands in your hair now.

You keep sucking, as his tip hits your uvula, and you fully intend to suck him off, one hand reaching down to slip under your waist band, feeling your swollen clit, just begging for attention. But if Toge is a virgin you figure he may want just his for now, but soon he’s shocked you, yanking you up and flipping you on your back, his pretty face over yours.

You’re breathless then, as one of his hands slides under your waist band, as if he’d seen you play with yourself, making you furiously blush. “Toge I can make you cum, you don’t have to- ah!”

Toge finds your clit then, rubbing it tentatively, looking at you for guidance, and his finger feels so much better than yours could. You whine out softly, so wet it’s embarrassing, taking his hand then, and rubbing in little circles with him. He kisses down your neck then, before yanking up your top, gasping as he sees your breasts, and you lean up to pull it over your head.

“Beautiful.” He says softly, before coughing, and it touches you so much your eyes water, your throat constricting with emotions as he gazes at you so in awe, as he rubs his throat.

“Oh… thank you, Toge.” You say softly, and he kisses a tear that falls, frowning. “It’s good tears, promise. Mnh! You’re good at that.”

He’s rubbing his finger in quick circles now, kissing down a peak of your breast, sucking it into his mouth then, hot and eager, you can’t stop the whimper from your throat, growing wetter against him. Your nipples are so sensitive you can’t take it, the insane pleasure.

He’s sliding your shorts down then, and you’re exposed, so nervous, but his gaze makes you feel just that, beautiful, as he leans back down, taking your other breast into his mouth, and your hands brush against his undercut, enwrapping in his silky ash hair. Your back arches for more of his kisses, as he goes between the valley of your breasts, kissing and nipping.

You cry out when he’s kissing your soft tummy, when he’s gripping the jut of your hips, fingers pressing into your hip bones, and you’re grinding up for more, your hands now gripping his shirt. You yank at it, and he looks up with a little smile, kneeling and taking it off, and you drink in him shirtless, cut to perfection.

“You hide all this under your hoodies!?” You watch him blush again, smiling softly as you run your hands down his abdomen, watching the muscles flex, then he’s turning you, until he’s the one kneeling between your thighs, and you flush. His breath is right against you, as his eyes feast on your pussy then. “Toge…”

He moans softly, licking his lips, running a gentle finger down between your slit, and his eyes go wide as he studies it, as he pulls your lips apart with his thumbs, making more wetness drool out of your little hole. You’re losing it with every further moment he’s staring, his breath against you tickling your sensitive skin.

“Um, do you want to finger me? Or… oh fuck! Toge!” You’re moaning loud and wanton as he presses a kiss right on the hood of your clit now. He licks a stripe up your slit, making your legs tremble, cunt throbbing around nothing, looking up at you again. “That feels so good, Toge, yes… please.”

He exhales again, tickling you, licking up you again, and it feels so good you’re falling back against the couch, as he spreads your leg further up, your heels pressed into the couch. He tilts his head, hair tickling your skin softly, violet eyes glimmering, full of desire as he licks just under your clit now, holding the hood up with his thumb, and you scream out.

“Oh my god… y-yes. There, please.” You whine out, and he smiles against your pussy, you feel it, before he does it again, the little flick of his tongue faster and faster against you. “Ah- Toge- you sure you have… haven't!?”

He’s shutting his eyes as he tastes you, as he drinks you, of course he can’t really answer, but he gives you that answer by devouring you now, pulling you by your ass to bring you even further against his mouth. Your cunt is dripping down embarrassingly, as everything he does makes you so sensitive you’re losing it, it feels so much better than anything you’ve felt.

Toge’s so concentrated, when he sucks your little clit into his mouth, you scream then, shuddering as you start cumming, falling apart, clutching onto his hair so hard you’re pulling it, and he’s moaning against you, vibrating your clit. You’re riding out that orgasm right on his face, shamelessly rocking your hips on him, his chin against your entrance, his teeth scraping it.

He’s lapping you up now, against your entrance, as you gush out, so much wetness it’s shocking, you’ve never been so messy. He fingers the sticky mess with wonder, you’re a shaky, twitchy puddle of nothing now, as he then slides a long finger inside of your eager little cunt, and your eyes roll back, mouth wide open.

“Yummy.” He says then, and you cum just from his finger, barely moving, from his goddamn voice saying that, it washes over you and makes you weak,

“I… I am?” You whisper, and he nods, licking his lips, covered in you. Fuck his chin is even glistening from your arousal. He’s fingering you deeper, looking at you curiously, and you struggle to take a breath. “I already came, I’m good. Mnh!”

He keeps pressing up, shaking his head, and you look at him in shock, before your eyes flutter shut in pleasure.

“Okay, you’re freaky, fuck. Um… press up, ah! There, there, shit!” You scream out again, and look to see him grinning with white teeth, licking his lips with that tongue that you now know does the best things, the swirled tattoos only enhancing your pleasure, your desire. “You have done this… no way…”

He shakes his head, just looking up, curling his finger up again, then you’re pulsing around his finger again, as you hear your wetness squishing in the room, as somehow your ass had knocked the remote off, and it’s quiet. Aside from Toge’s sweet little sighs, as he’s lapping you up with his finger, and then you see glittery stars, fucking blackness.

You cum so hard you can’t breathe, yanking him up then, tasting yourself on his usually silent lips, lapping your sweet arousal off them. You pull back, gasping, cupping his face then and looking at him, at the clear hunger in his gaze. “Toge, are we… are we… do you wanna…”

He just looks at you, seriously, urging you on.

“Together?” You ask nervously, and he nods then, eagerly, kissing you again, again, again. You melt into his kisses, as his hands caress you, making you shiver at how sensitive you are from cumming so much. “Toge… do you um… wanna…”

He nods again.

“Fuck, okay, come on.” He helps you to stand, and you lead him to your room nervously, sitting on your bed then, and he cups your face, brushing your hair back again, bending over you. “Um, I don’t have any protection…”

He just grins, picking you up with surprising ease, shoving you to the center of the bed, and then he’s hot and hard between your thighs, fingering your pussy again, with two fingers this time. He’s scissoring those fingers in and out of your cunt, and you’re clinging to him, nails leaving little marks in his skin, as you cling to his back desperately.

“Toge…” You feel tears prick your eyes as he makes you cum again, then he’s holding his cock at the base, leaning up and sucking you off his fingers, making you so wet you’re slippery. “Um… here.”

You gently hold him, stroking and watching his face contorted in pleasure, then he hisses as you press him to your entrance. He looks at you in shock, and it feels so intense you can’t take it, after wanting him for so long, and he’s right here. It feels so intimate and different than before, and when his tip presses in just a bit, you almost cum again from that.

He’s huffing, gripping your waist now, thumbs pressing into your rib cage, and he presses further, stretching and burning your skin. Even though you’re so well lubricated, it’s been a long time since anything has been inside you, and Toge is big, so it burns so much when he slides in, you wince in pain. Toge pauses, eyes darting to yours, and you shake your head.

“It’s okay, um… you’re just big.” You whisper, and watch him flush a bit again, but he then pulls out just a bit, slamming into you then, and you feel him hit your cervix, something you can’t even describe. It’s so much pain you scream, but it’s so good, too, your walls are fluttering around him.

He stiffens, chest heaving with his breaths as he feels you tightening, and his eyes shut for just a moment, leaning over you, pulling back and thrusting again, drawing out more wetness, squelching in the room. He’s brushing back another little tear, drinking you in with his gaze.

“It’s good, it’s so good. Just let me um… adjust?” You say softly, and he nods, gripping you tightly, kissing your forehead sweetly as he sits there. “Mmm… okay. Okay, I can take it.”

He laughs softly, blowing the baby hairs by your forehead, then he’s fucking into you, firmer, gripping you so tight it hurts, but you want it. You want his cock shoving inside of you, over and over, that tip dragging on your walls, and you feel it building again, but more intense than his talented tongue, more intense than anything.

You’re clinging to him desperately, kissing him, drowning as he fucks you so goddamn good, rolling his hips and slamming into your cervix. You feel your heart thudding in your ears, pulse racing under him, his fingers dancing along your collarbone now, thumb pressing on that pulse.

“Toge!” You cry out when he flips you over, bringing your ass up, and smacking it then. “Toge!?” He exhales, smacking the other cheek, and gripping it so tight. “Do you um, like my ass?”

You peek back to see his giant grin, as he nods, and you giggle a bit, but then it’s shut up completely as his cock shoves in, dragging on your g spot with the curved, thick tip, making you scream as he buries himself to the hilt. You cum again, shattering around him, and earning a husky groan, as his hands grip your ass cheeks and spread, and now he’s looking as your cunt sucks him in.

Toge can feel you tightening around him again, making him so sensitive, he eases back and looks at you, at your waist so tiny and your ass so perfect at this angle, as he pulls you up even more. Your legs are shaking, as you press down into the bed, your head against your silky pillows, and he watches your tight little hole stretched by him.

It’s the sexiest thing he’s seen, and fuck you’re the best thing he’s felt, no dream could have ever been this good. You’re so perfect, so wet, he sees it just pouring down your hole, already swollen from his cock. He’s hitting you raw, the best thing he can imagine, as Toge imagines cumming so deep in you daily, he imagines how good it’ll look dripping out between your folds.

You scream out as he slams back in, and he’d be worried he hurt you, but as you grip those sheets, he can tell, you like it.

You’re so close, so close, as he slams into you now, like he’s been fucking forever, little fiend that he is. His hand slides up your spine, making you shiver and cling more, before he pulls your hair, bringing your head up. He’s wrapping it around his fist gently, pulling and using it to fuck you harder, harder.

“Oh my… Toge… I’m gonna cum, ngh!” You whimper pathetically, and he leans forward, pressing his cock in deep, grinding against you.

“Cum.” He whispers in your ear, and you do, as if he could command you with one damn word, you cum so hard you can’t breathe, squirting out wetness everywhere around his length, dripping down him. He pauses then, resting his head against your back now, sweaty with your exertions, you can feel him throbbing in you.

“Cum in me.” He stares at you, as you look back, and he’s cupping your chin in his hand. “Please, I want you to.” You say then, and he moans, so sexy, nodding, and fucking you so good it hurts, skin smacking with the thrusts he’s giving.

Toge shoves in one more time, cumming inside of you then, hot cum pouring inside of you so thick, and fuck there’s so much. He’s shivering behind you, slowly pumping it more, as you’re weak now, as you’re so full. Your arms collapse, and your head falls on the bed, as you try to catch your breath, as you blink rapidly, so overheated, your mind ruined.

“Oh my god. F-fuck.” You whine out then, and he’s pulling out, making such a mess as both of your fluids are pouring out.

He leans back, pulling you apart and sighing, watching as his white sperm is pulsing out of your little hole, and you feel yourself blushing everywhere, as you struggle to lean up. You peer back at him, at his lust filled gaze, and he licks his lips again, tattooed tongue darting back and forth, as if he’s hungry.

You squeak when he dives back down, lapping his own cum out of you, and you freak out. “Toge, w-what? I’m good! Toge-”

“Again.”

So… Inukami Toge is a freak.

And now he’s your boyfriend. <3

Hope you all liked this, I've never written him before!

[cherie-doll]

☾ Headcanon: COD Men As Werewolves

⨯ Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

His breathing becomes ragged, hot breath fogging the clouded reflection in the mirror. His body trembles and his knuckles turn white as he grasps the mirror edges. His mind blurs as he tries to concentrate on his image in the mirror, with each pounding heartbeat, his pain grows unbearable.

He could feel the fur prick through his skin as it covered his body, a set of sharp teeth grew, and pointed claws broke through the pads of his fingers. His gaze became unclear, turning into something less than human before he lost all focus.

Ghost

He for some reason gets a lot of scars and scratches from accidentally clawing at himself

He hasn't been a werewolf for long so he's still getting used to it just like you are

You treat his injuries yourself because you can never decide whether you should take him to the doctor or the veterinarian

Soap

You find him acting odd, like truly doing the weirdest things. But when is he ever normal?

That new chewing toy you bought for your puppy? Suddenly you find Johnny with it in the living room gnawing on it, at least it's not your furniture

Will randomly lick/affectionately bite you

Dude imagine how cool he looks in his werewolf form with his mohawk

Gaz

Kyle absolutely despises being a werewolf in summer, you can always be sure to find him soaking in the bathtub all day

You both sleep with a fan in summer, just sleeping next to him makes you feel the heat radiating off of him, you can't even imagine how he must feel :(

But it's an advantage in fall and winter, practically turns into your personal heater in winter, just cuddling together the entire time, and since he bought the best conditioner for his fur it's so soft

Roach

Loves you stroking his ears and tail, gets highly sensitive with his tail

He frequently runs off for days and when he comes back he always brings something for you

You don't want to hurt his feelings so you have to pretend that the dead bird he brought you is the best gift you've ever received whilst he watches, tail wagging and seemingly content :(

Alejandro

Imagine how much hair would be on his chest ૮꒰´ ཀ ྀི꒱ა

Sheds everywhere

You have to help him shave it because the amount of thick hair he grows is insane and even gets in the way sometimes

He'll be getting it stuck in zippers, tangling it even more when he tries to cut it with scissors

Completely gives up wearing clothes and just stays inside the entire time because he overheats with clothes on

Phillip Graves

He gets territorial and stays lurking near the house, the mailman can't even come near to deliver the mail

Bares his teeth and being downright mean so you can't have anyone over but turns soft for you

And when he gets hungry you make him eat outside, you can’t stand watching him eat raw meat or making a mess inside

Keegan

Likes scaring the living daylights out of you

Sometimes it's easy to forget your boyfriend is a werewolf when he doesn't tell you exactly when he transforms

He laughs seeing your sleepy eyes widen in surprise when you wake up to a beast in your bed

He stalks around at night scaring kids too, loves scaring the little shits knowing no one is going to believe them if they ever told

König

He's strong but imagine how much stronger König becomes when he transforms

It sounds hot but also imagine how much of an inconvenience it is for him

He's constantly breaking doors when pushing/pulling on them, breaking chairs, can't get a single pair of pants or shirt on without it ripping

Horangi

Likes to tease you by biting or nipping at your skin, especially in sensitive areas like your neck, chest and thighs

His nighttime activity increases, when you wake up in the middle of the night to find his side of the bed cold and empty, you open the Find My app to track him and find that he decided to take a walk around town and even went out to eat

Sometimes you accompany him but it's almost every night he does it and you can't keep up

Nikto

He's actually really gentle as a werewolf

Although you're used to his big body weighing down on you

Since his claws grow out he has you filing them down and clipping them, as a joke you sometimes paint them and he has to go around looking like a menace until someone sees his hot pink nails

Is very protective of you, like a lot more

Won't let you go anywhere by yourself, especially at night and is by your side 24/7

[idkfitememate]

hear me out!! diluc comes home in the middle of the day and witnesses the current biggest nuisance of his life, the boar!creator, being pampered by adelinde and the other housemaids. his maids might even be dressing the boar up or putting on accessories. it’s most likely a terrifying yet simultaneously confusing sight—the menace of mondstat sitting there, seeming so calm and docile in his home. regardless of his negative attitude, i’m sure somewhere deep deep down he’ll find it adorable (not that he’d ever admit it). to be fair, it is a surprisingly nice change of pace compared to the usual destruction that follows the boar, especially the destruction targeted at him and his property.

Spa Day!

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : Boar vs. Diluc ft. His staff!!

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. :

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Fluff & Crack

Diluc was so close to actually snapping.

All he wanted was a nice, calm day. After dealing with Venti and kaeya and all the other wonderful drunks of Mondstadt, he was more than prepared to come home and relax. Take off his work clothes, talk a nice walk through his vineyard, take a nice long hot bath, have a nice dinner, anything.

And yet, here he stood, staring at all his maids as they pampered one of his largest headaches.

The Boar.

You were wearing a vest - was it his??? - and getting pat and rubbed and being fed grapes - his grapes?????? - and honestly you were living the dream he wanted.

All Diluc could do was stand in shock as he watched you get the pampering he felt he was entitled to.

“Quite the sight, isn’t it Master Diluc? Diluc grunted in response to Elzer’s teasing. He huffed, turning his heel and walking upstairs to his bedroom.

The silence was comforting, even with the knowledge that the Boar was being pampered downstairs. Gently his suit coat was hung up and shoes lethargically slipped off. He sat on his bed and let out a long sigh, pressing his hands to his face. Diluc looked out the window to the moon and simply stared out into the night sky.

The door to his room cracked open, and there you stood, tall and prideful with a… tray on your back? You trotted up, dressed to the nines, fur all slicked and shined - though the paints in your fur still shined through - with a platter of grapes and grape juice. You seemed so proud as you stopped beside him and preformed a faux little bow to him.

Diluc stared incredulously at you, eyes wide and mouth gaped. He didn’t move, not even to take a single grape. You shuffled a bit closer, even bumped into his leg a couple times.

Diluc only continued to stare.

Finally you oinked at the man, practically slamming the platter into Diluc’s crotch. Diluc yelped and fell back onto his bed, hissing in pain as you backed up with a small smirk. That smirk quickly dropped however when Diluc curled up on his bed with hands around his… well y’know.

You crept closer to the bed and placed your snout on the sheets, trying to see the damage, only to be swatted away by a silently shaking Diluc. It didn’t take anymore than that for you to huff and scamper off, leaving the red head to suffer in silence.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍰🍫🥮୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

When Diluc came down for dinner, all the maids - and Elzer - are all standing around a part of the table, shielding it from his sights. A maid seats Diluc and he watches for a minute as no one moves for dinner, only continuing to shuffle around the opposite end of the table.

“… Would anyone mind including me on whatever is so funny?” His tone was genuine. He was tired from his long day and was truly just looking for any kind of sympathy.

“Well, Master Diluc, our darling little friend-“ Diluc groaned “-left you a present. One we’re… actually not to sure how it got here but still hope you appreciate.” With a sweep of his hand, Elzer and the group of maids moved aside, and revealed a crumbling boar-shaped-cake with the words “i’s sorrrrsys” hastily and sloppily scrawled on the surface in icing.

“By the time we found it the Boar was long gone, front door broken open. But it is grape flavor!.. Amazingly…” Adelinde spoke up, walking to the kitchen to retrieve the man of the hours dinner.

While the rest of the maids went off to busy themselves, Elzer walked behind the chair Diluc was sat in and leaned down.

“I don’t know what exactly went on up there, but i do think they were sorry. I don’t doubt they’ll be back at their own tricks again, but never forget how your grapes grow so much sweeter after they’ve ravaged the fields. I don’t much think that was a coincidence.” With a small pat on the back, the old Butler stood and walked off.

In that time Adelinde had come back with the meal and sat it down before the man, whispering some ‘have a nice meal’ before walking off to busy herself in the meantime. Diluc only stared at his food before his eyes traveled up to stare at the slowly melting cake. The eyes of the misshapen boar stared back.

‘The grapes always grew back stronger after their shenanigans…’

Diluc cut himself a slice of cake, completely ignoring his dinner. Silently he cut a slice and brought it to his lips, hesitating, before placing it onto his tongue. The cake was moist, nearly melting in hushed mouth. The taste was sweet, but not bitter like a grape might be with a small aftertaste, like the purest grapes in the world had been used, skin nowhere to be found and juicy beyond compare.

Diluc, if just for a moment, smiled.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I’m so tired hehe anyway Boar in their non-toxic era what’s going on-

[glossdebut]

Take a Bite Ch. 5

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you’re finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off… Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You’ve accepted the fact that romance isn’t for you, under any circumstances. You won’t risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you’ll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: SMUT, sexting, i guess a little bit of exhibitionism? not really but if we're splitting hairs, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, COMPLICATED FEELINGS! MEN NAMED KEVIN! YIJEONG?????

✧ WORDCOUNT: 7.4k (jesus christ)

✧ STATUS: ongoing

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: TAKE A BITE 5 IS HERE!!!!!!!!! this chapter was ALMOST written in a planet fitness, but it wasn't. this chapter is also almost ENTIRELY smut, but the smut is important to the plot so leave me alone! i'm sorry to inform those of you that wanted more of yoongi's brain that this chapter is entirely reader pov, but there's a reason for that and i promise yoongi will be back before this story is complete <3

Chapter 5: I Think I Need Your Help

Next time can’t come soon enough.

Since Friday night, you’ve been alternating between being super proud of yourself for being direct and asking for what you want, and being equally repulsed by yourself for the way getting what you want has made you act. 

You’ve seen Yoongi once since the night in his studio, when he was coming home after pulling an all-nighter and you were on your way out to work, like two goddamn ships passing in the night.

You were in that barely functional state post-waking up where you were shocked you were even able to get your shoes on the correct feet before walking out the door, and the mere sight of him in a short-sleeved white t-shirt had you pausing where you stood and taking a looooong look. You’re that desperate. 

And he knows it, too. Exhausted as he looked, your blatant staring didn’t go unnoticed. Mercifully, though, Yoongi didn’t say anything. Just shook his head at you knowingly, smirking to himself as he pushed his front door open and stepped inside, presumably to go crash for a few hours.

You thought, foolishly, that a byproduct of your friends-with-benefits arrangement would be an ability to relax, loosen up a little bit so you’re able to be more productive during office hours. Don’t people say that about sex? That it clears the head? Well, those people have clearly never had Min Yoongi’s head between their legs.

You are decidedly not clear headed. You are wired, wanting, finding yourself zoning out in the middle of newsroom meetings thinking about Yoongi’s hands spreading your thighs, his lips wrapped around your clit, the way he groaned into your pussy. It’s fucking distracting.

You’ve never been like this before with anyone you’ve slept with. Sex with your ex had been good, even great sometimes, but you never really thought about it until it was happening. With Yoongi, you can’t seem to think about anything else.

Meanwhile, Yoongi has been busy, on a completely different sleep schedule from you all week. He’d given you fair warning before you left his studio Friday night, wobbly-legged and fucked out. He’s working on a very important track for an upcoming artist’s debut album, he’d told you. It’s due at the end of the day Friday, and he probably won’t have time for any… extracurriculars until it’s done. 

No big deal, you’d said! Dumb bitch.

It doesn’t help in the slightest that, as you’d hoped, nothing has really changed between you and Yoongi, aside from occasional suggestive texts (mostly initiated by your horny ass!!!!!!) exchanged throughout the day, sprinkled within normal conversation. No, Yoongi has continued to be himself: sweet, considerate, kind of nerdy. Sending you links to articles he finds interesting, or funny videos, or songs that he’s had on repeat. It is driving you insane.

On Thursday afternoon, you snap.

You open your phone on your lunch break to find that Yoongi has sent you not one, not two, but three devastatingly cute cat videos, and has provided his own commentary on them.

So, obviously, you text back with what you think is the only appropriate response to that kind of behavior. 

[12:14] You: i am begging you to put your cock inside me before i lose my mind

It is by far the most direct you’ve been since Friday night, far exceeding the coy flirtation you usually go for. You place your phone face-down on your desk with a shaky hand, staring down at your sad little salad. Lunch seems impossible now, what with your heartbeat thrumming in your ears and all.

Your phone buzzes not even a minute later, twice. Which stands to reason. You wanted Yoongi’s attention, and now you’ve got it. You take a deep breath through your nose and turn your phone back over.

[12:15] Yoongi: You’re begging, huh?

[12:15] Yoongi: You’re at work, baby. Can’t focus? Need it that bad?

Um. Yes, yes you do. And the way that you can practically hear his voice right now, in your ear, teasing. Fuck. Not helping.

You pick up your phone, hiding yourself behind the monitor at your desk so nobody in the office can see how flushed you’ve become all of a sudden. You’re on your lunch, and they should mind their damn business.

[12:16] You: yes

[12:17] Yoongi: You know I can’t help you until I’m done with my track.

That’s pretty much the response you expected, but you can’t help feeling frustrated about it anyway. He can’t take a break for an hour? You’d even settle for thirty minutes!

[12:18] You: i think you can and you’re just making me wait to be an asshole

[12:18] You: which is really dumb because i can just come to your studio tonight when i get off of work and you can take a break

[12:19] You: let me ride you in your chair

[12:19] You: fuck. you don’t even have to stop working yoongi

You’re acting desperate, you know that. You know how you sound. But you are desperate, can’t help it. Yoongi opened the floodgates to over three years of pent-up sexual frustration with his stupid tongue, and now it’s his fucking responsibility to deal with it.

You watch as the bubble pops up to indicate that he’s typing, and then disappears, then reappears again. Ha. Maybe you actually got him.

[12:22] Yoongi: If you think calling me names is gonna get you what you want, you’ve got another thing coming.

[12:22] Yoongi: You can come to the studio tonight if you really want to. But I can guarantee that you’re not getting my cock.

[12:23] Yoongi: Except maybe in that fucking mouth to give it something better to do than complain.

Holy shit maybe not!

[12:23] You: oh my god

You had a feeling, of course, that Yoongi liked being in control, that he liked to guide. He had coaxed your desires out of you so sweetly Friday night, letting you tell him what you wanted, but how he did it was his choice. But this is more than guiding. He’s telling you what’s going to happen if you come over. You shift in your chair, your thighs clenching.

[12:24] Yoongi: Hey. Tell me if this is okay, Y/N.

You can practically hear the words in his voice, soft, like when he asked you to stay when Seokjin came over to cook. The stark difference between this and the texts immediately before are almost enough to make your head spin. He’s giving you an out if you’re not into this. But you are into it.

[12:24] You: yeah

[12:24] You: yes. it’s okay

[12:25] Yoongi: I need you to tell me if I say or do something you don’t like, okay? No matter what.

[12:25] You: i will

[12:25] Yoongi: Good girl.

God. Being this turned on at work feels like a crime.

[12:26] Yoongi: I’m not trying to be mean, baby. I already told you, I’m dying to fuck you. I wasn’t just saying that.

[12:27] Yoongi: But when I fuck you, I want to be able to take my time.

[12:27] Yoongi: Wanna have you in my bed and not in my studio, first of all. All spread out for me so I can see all of you.

[12:28] Yoongi: Wanna taste you again. I can’t stop thinking about how good you taste, fuck. I didn’t take it slow enough last time, didn’t get to savor it, but I’m gonna fix that. Gonna make you come with my tongue again before you even get my cock, get you nice and wet for me.

[12:29] Yoongi: Not that it takes much. Bet you’re wet right now, aren’t you? Just from this?

Oh, he’s so mean. Your thighs clench again and you chew on your bottom lip as you type, hyperaware of the way the thin fabric of your panties clings to your sex. It feels so dirty, knowing that in a few minutes you’ll have to work like this. You’ll have to talk to your colleagues like this, pretend like nothing’s amiss. You’d be lying if you said the thought didn’t turn you on even more.

[12:29] You: yeah. god, yoongi. i am

[12:30] Yoongi: Yeah. I know, baby. It’s okay. I’m gonna take care of you when I can. Gonna make you feel so good. You sounded so sweet when you came for me last time. Can’t wait to hear what kind of pretty noises you’ll make when I get to have you properly.

[12:31] Yoongi: Fuck, Y/N. If you think I don’t wish I was with you right this second you’re insane. Been dreaming about your pussy. But I wanna do this the right way.

You believe him. Even through your phone, you can feel it—that raw honesty that Yoongi always gives you. He’s been agonizing over this just as much as you have. It makes you feel a little bad, honestly, that you so wantonly distracted him like this, when he’s been working so hard this week. Maybe part of you wanted to get back at him for denying you what you wanted on Friday, but now, you realize that you’re glad he did. You want all of that, too. Everything he said, every word of it. Just because this is casual doesn’t mean you have to rush.

Maybe it’s time for you to give him a little honesty of your own.

[12:32] You: i want that too

[12:32] You: shit i have to go back to work soon but i promise i’m not trying to rush this i just…

[12:32] You: really, really want you

[12:33] Yoongi: I want you too.

[12:33] Yoongi: Soon, okay? Really really soon if I can help it.

You look up from your phone when the chime of an Outlook notification snaps you out of your bubble, directing your attention to an email from your boss. With a longsuffering sigh, you click it open. He wants to talk to you as soon as you’re available, and your salad isn’t going to eat itself, so you resign yourself to letting Yoongi get back to work.

[12:35] You: soon

[12:35] You: go back to work. that grammy isn’t gonna win itself

[12:36] Yoongi: Lmfao. Go back to work, she says, as if she didn’t just give me the most persistent boner of my life unprovoked.

[12:36] You: motivation!

[12:36] Yoongi: Motivation for me to do more inappropriate shit in my place of business, maybe. But it’s a lot sadder when I’m by myself.

[12:37] You: wowwwww pics or it didn’t happen

[12:37] Yoongi: YOU go back to work, pervert.

You do. Begrudgingly.

You quickly type an email to your boss, just a cursory, ‘There are fifteen minutes left in my lunch, and then I’ll be there. Thanks Kevin!’ Afterwards, you scarf down your lunch. And you finally watch those cat videos Yoongi sent you, which effectively tamps down your horny high enough for you not to feel icky about meeting with your boss. 

★ ★ ★

Fifteen minutes later on the dot, you’re knocking on Kevin’s door.

You like your boss well enough. As much as one can like their boss, maybe, give or take a bad day. Kevin is nice, but his name is stupid, and he certainly doesn’t live up to your expectations of what a music journalism editor would be like when you first applied to Look Here Magazine.

Foolishly, you expected someone straight out of Almost Famous: young, wears band t-shirts beneath blazers, a chainsmoker, a little bit sleazy, with music knowledge to put Nardwuar to shame. Instead, what you got is a mostly-bald, clean-cut, mid-forties guy who wears khakis most days of the week and says things like ‘circle back’ and ‘best practice.’ He’s competent, sure, and you need him to like you, absolutely, but he does make your job feel a little less cool. But who knows! Maybe Kevin rocks out on the weekends. You certainly don’t, so who are you to judge?

Kevin waves you in, and before you even have the chance to sit down, he’s dropping a bomb on you that makes you feel like your legs are going to give out beneath you.

“You’re taking charge on the Yijeong profile piece,” he says flippantly as peers over his glasses at his monitor, typing without pause.

There’s absolutely no way you just heard that right. Yijeong's profile was assigned already, to a reporter who has been at Look Here a lot longer than you. You tell Kevin as much, as if he wasn’t in the newsroom when the piece was pitched in the first place.

“Sora didn’t have enough bandwidth to juggle the profile and the reunion tour coverage, and that’s going to be on the cover,” Kevin says, without even a passing glance to you. As if he isn’t altering the trajectory of your career over a scheduling conflict. “It’s all you, kid.”

“I don’t have the contacts,” you blurt out, having mercy on your poor, wobbly legs as you sit down.

“Ask Sora for the contacts.”

“Don’t you want someone more experienced for this? Connected?”

It’s not that you don’t want it. Writing a profile on someone like Jang Yijeong is a dream come true for someone as green as you are. It may not be the cover article, but the headline will be written on the cover, and so far you’ve only written the puff pieces that readers likely use to pad outgoing mail. If you do this right, there’s a chance of less puff pieces and more real journalism.

It’s the if that scares you. Jang Yijeong has rebranded his entire career from being an idol to being a producer, so he’s technically considered an up-and-coming artist where Look Here is concerned. Nobody has heard his name in a few years, and a piece on him by a publication like Look Here could make him the most sought after producer in the country, if he plays it right. 

But Yijeong has also been in the music industry for a long time. He’s been interviewed by countless reporters. He’s media trained. Good media training is a death sentence for profiles, which are supposed to dig deep into the subject. Trust is everything in this kind of situation, and if Look Here sends a rookie like you to interview Jang Yijeong without the proper connections, without someone to vouch for you, he will show up to the interview with a script in hand. The profile will be a dud and your career will pay the price.

Sighing, Kevin finally stops typing, looking at you for the first time since you walked into his office. You shift in your seat, trying to make yourself look less fucking terrified.

“Look, I could hand it off to someone else, but you’ve been doing a good job these past couple of weeks. In your interview, you told me you’re most interested in writing features. That you’re good at it. I’m throwing you a bone,” he says, and you take a shaky breath. “Take the piece. Don’t try to reinvent the wheel. You’ve written profiles before, you know what to do. Just ask good questions, don’t be stiff, and you’ll be fine.”

Kevin’s phone rings, and his attention is stolen again as he picks it up to answer it without a second thought. “Talk to Sora, and then take the day out in the field tomorrow to see what kind of background you can dig up,” he says, waving you out with the same indifference he waved you in with. You scramble to stand up, rushing to leave.

“Deadline is Wednesday!” he calls as you shut the door behind you, taking a moment to catch your breath before you try to find Sora.

Holy shit.

You have work to do.

★ ★ ★

You spend your entire day on Friday pounding pavement, milking all of Sora’s sources for what they’re worth, but you don’t learn any information about Jang Yijeong that you can’t find on his Wikipedia page.

You don’t give up easily, though. No, you plan to put your investigative reporting skills to good use, via a healthy session of social media stalking. You can find out a lot about someone from what they post on X and Instagram, after all. You have to reach out to Yijeong’s label to schedule an interview as soon as possible, and if you have to get your hard hitting questions based off of what you can glean from a meal he photographed in 2013, so be it.

It’s ten at night by the time you flop onto your bed, phone in hand, ready to pull an all-nighter and plunge yourself into the rabbit hole that is Jang Yijeong’s social media. Pepper hops up with you, curling up on your stomach and purring contentedly as you start scrolling.

Nearly two hours and ten possible interview questions later, your phone buzzes in your hand. It’s Yoongi.

[11:47] Yoongi: Are you coming over or not?

Oh, fuck. It’s Friday. Meaning Yoongi is done with his track.

You’d almost forgotten how horny you’d been for the past week, completely absorbed in your assignment. It stands to reason that as soon as Yoongi is free, you’re suddenly swamped with work of your own. But, of course, it all comes rushing back just from a text.

Whatever! You’ve been at it for hours, anyway. You deserve a break.

[11:49] You: when did you get home?

[11:49] Yoongi: About half an hour ago.

[11:50] You: hmmmm… did you take a shower?

[11:50] Yoongi: Obviously. I’ve been in the studio for most of the week. I’m not an animal.

You snort to yourself, which scares the shit out of Pepper after your complete silence for the past two hours. You’re suddenly proud that you had the foresight to take a shower of your own when you got home from interrogating people all day, although this wasn’t on your mind at the time. 

[11:50] You: leave the door open?

[11:51] Yoongi: Will do.

You very carefully nudge Pepper off of your stomach, giving yourself a cursory glance in your mirror once you’re up. You make sure that your hair looks good at least, but your clothes don’t matter as much. It’s not like they’ll be on for long anyway.

Satisfied with what you see, you make your way through your apartment, grabbing your keys to lock your door on your way out.

Maybe it’s the workload that was dumped on you yesterday, but you feel much more level headed about this than you thought you would. It’s like your body has finally caught up with your brain, and you can recognize this part of your relationship with Yoongi for what it actually is: stress relief. You’ll go to his apartment, he’ll give it to you so good, and then you’ll go back to work and he won’t care because, like he told you before, he gets it. You’re giddy just thinking about it.

Walking into Yoongi’s apartment isn’t daunting, nor is locking the door behind you. Nor is finding him on his couch and climbing into his lap without even a hello, crushing your lips to his the way you’ve spent all week dreaming about.

Yoongi makes a surprised noise against your mouth, his hands hovering at your waist, but he quickly melts into the kiss, letting you take the lead for a moment as his hands find their place, pulling you closer. It’s only when you tease the seam of his lips with your tongue, silently requesting entry that he pulls back, forcing you to breathe.

“Hi,” he says, clearly amused by your enthusiasm.

“Hi,” you parrot back, grinning.

His hands slip from your waist to your hips as he looks you over, toying with the fabric of your sleep shorts. “Remember what we talked about yesterday?” You hum coyly, guiding his hand under the hem, which makes him huff, shaking his head with a smirk. “Wanting to do this the right way,” he reminds you, quickly removing his hand from where you led it, instead opting to smooth it over the curve of your ass.

“Easier said than done,” you reply, feeling bold enough to take the initiative that he won’t and sliding your hands under his shirt, running them over his abdomen. The fabric bunches up, and you can’t help but stare at the tantalizing inch of pale skin you’re rewarded with.

You gasp in surprise at the light spank Yoongi gives your ass in return, not nearly hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough for you to pull your hands away. You know a warning when you see one—or feel one, that is. When you look up at him, he’s raising an eyebrow at you.

“Thought you said you wanted it like that,” he hums, rubbing over where he smacked you. “There’s always the alternative.”

Oh. That.

You wish you could say the thought of letting Yoongi fuck your throat wasn’t appealing, but there’s no hiding the way it makes you squirm, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. Yoongi hasn’t been particularly rough with you yet, but he’s hinted that he can be, if you want it. You imagine his hand on your jaw, encouraging you to open wider for him. Your eyes watering as you struggle to breathe through your nose. You still don’t know what his dick looks like, how thick it’ll feel on your tongue, how much your jaw will ache, but you’re eager to fill in the blanks of your imagination. You’ll definitely take him up on that one day, but no, he’s right. 

You want to come. You want him to make you come. As stubborn as you are, you can’t deny that.

“You can take your time,” you mumble, meeting his eyes. 

He smiles, bringing his free hand up to cup your face, his thumb rubbing your cheek like it did that night in his studio. “Good girl,” he murmurs, rewarding you with a sweet kiss that makes you moan, shifting your hips to grind against the bulge you feel stiffening under you. 

Yoongi pulls away from your lips with a chuckle, patting your hip gently. “Up,” he says, and you scramble to your feet, no more bratty attitude to be found at the moment. 

He stands with you, guiding you by the hand to his bedroom. Since he’s so adamant about taking his time, you take a moment to glance around the room, taking in all the little things about it that reflect what you’ve learned about Yoongi over the past several weeks.

Like the rest of his apartment, his bedroom is much cleaner than you would’ve assumed. There’s a desk with a small home studio setup, much more sparse than what you’ve seen in his actual studio. The equipment looks old and well-loved, and you wonder how long he’s had it. A basketball jersey hanging over his desk chair with his name emblazoned on the back. A dresser with various jewelry scattered on top, chains and rings and earrings. 

His bed, of course, takes up the most space in the room. Where you have a queen bed in your own bedroom, you note that his is clearly a king, with a soft looking black comforter over top. A comforter that you’re about to be pressed into, you think. 

Yoongi comes up behind you, his hands on your waist, lips on your neck trailing kisses over your nape and making you shiver.

“Relax,” he murmurs, huffing a laugh that you feel more than hear. “Lie down for me?”

You nod, walking to the bed and settling flat on your back. God, is this a Purple mattress? You hate him a little bit. You found your mattress on the side of the road.

Yoongi doesn’t give you long to stew on your hatred, though. Not when he’s spreading your legs, your feet planted flat on the mattress beneath you so he can fit his hips between your thighs. Not when you can feel how hard he is already, even through the layers separating you.

He kisses you again, long and slow and hot, all of your breath leaving your lungs at the feeling of his lips on yours. “Remember to stop me,” he mumbles between kisses. “If I do something you don’t like.”

You honestly find it hard to believe that Yoongi could do anything you wouldn’t like, but you nod your head jerkily in response, not wanting to separate from his lips for any longer than necessary.

Soon, he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses down your neck as his hands push your shirt up slowly, only separating himself from you to pull it off entirely and toss it aside on the mattress.

“Fuck,” he groans at the discovery that you aren’t wearing a bra, his hands immediately coming up to squeeze your breasts. “Wanted to make it easy for me, huh, baby?” 

In reality, you’d just been dressed for bed, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him that, unable to form the words as his lips travel down to your chest, his tongue coming out to lave over a nipple.

You moan, your head falling back onto the mattress under you with a dull ‘thunk’ as Yoongi wraps his lips around the sensitive bud and sucks, your hands flying up to tangle in his hair.

“You like that,” he teases, a statement and not a question. He lifts his head, looking down at your tits with his bottom lip between his teeth. “So pretty, baby.” 

Your cheeks flush warmly at the praise, and desperate to shift the attention away from yourself, your hands slide down to his chest, fisting in his shirt and tugging.

“Your turn,” you breathe, and he chuckles as he sits up on his knees, tugging his shirt over his head.

You can’t help but stare. It’s not that you thought that Yoongi would be skinny, per se, but he does have a tendency to wear clothes a little too big for him, dwarfing him, and given his already small stature due to his height… Not that you would’ve minded in the slightest if he was on the scrawnier side, but Christ. He’s decidedly not scrawny. He’s lean, with shoulders broader than you would’ve given him credit for at a passing glance. 

And now here you are, gifted with an expanse of pale, smooth skin over compact muscle. Your eyes roam over him, from dusky nipples all the way down to the thin trail of dark hair starting right under his navel and leading your gaze down to where his cock strains against his sweatpants.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to touch somebody so badly in your life. The best part is that you can.

And you do. You feel greedy, your hands reaching out to smooth over his chest, down his abdomen, your eyes half-lidded and lips parted in a daze. 

Yoongi lets you touch all you want, but when your hands move down to cup his erection through his sweatpants, you hear his breath hitch as he stops you, shaking his head and pinning your arm to the mattress gently.

“Your turn,” he murmurs softly, throwing your words right back at you. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tilting his head at you as he starts to pull them down, the movement torturously slow. “Wanna see if you skipped the panties, too.”

You lift your hips so he can pull them down the rest of the way. You are not, in fact, wearing panties, because you were going the fuck to sleep originally, and you hear him suck in a breath after the shorts are discarded.

“What the hell did I do to deserve you?” he breathes. You ignore the funny thing your heart does in your chest at his words, opting instead to focus on his hand drawing closer to you.

You both moan when his fingers slide over you, finding you soaked once again.

“Fuck,” Yoongi hisses as he gathers your slick with his fingers. He drags them slowly up to your sensitive bundle of nerves and circles around it, only to slide back down again, repeating the motion again and again. You moan every time he reaches your clit, your hips bucking up into his touch.

“This pussy,” he starts, and you lift your head at sudden motion as he sinks down to lay on his stomach, holding himself up with his elbows, “gets so fucking wet for me.”

His pupils are blown as he hooks your legs over his shoulders, just like last time, but instead of going right for it, Yoongi starts pressing kisses to your thigh. Your head falls back onto the mattress again, and you squeeze your eyes shut as he continues to speak. 

“Been thinking about this all week,” Yoongi mumbles into your skin, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, forcing a gasp out of you. “You make it impossible to focus, you know that?”

A high, needy whine falls from your lips as he suddenly runs the tip of his tongue between your folds, and when you lift your head to watch, he pulls away, his dark eyes meeting yours in a smoldering gaze.

“I could’ve been done with that track on fucking Tuesday,” he says, dipping down again to wrap his lips around your clit and suck, making you cry out, tangling your fingers in his hair again. “Do you know how many times I jerked off thinking about being between these thighs again?”

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you whimper, his words conjuring images that make you feel as though you’re coming apart at the seams. Yoongi chuckles darkly, pressing a kiss to your clit.

“Yeah, that’s my girl,” he praises, his tone so dark it sends a shiver down your spine. “Gonna make you say my name like that again, baby. You want it?”

“Yes,” you gasp out without a second thought. You need his mouth on you so bad you feel like you’re going to explode. “Shit, please.”

“So polite.”

Yoongi doesn’t make you wait any longer, his head dipping back down again so he can taste you properly, the flat of his tongue licking slowly over your pussy.

“Thank you,” you moan, the words slipping out completely outside of your control. Yoongi’s movements pause for just a fraction of a second, and suddenly you’re overwhelmed with the worry that ‘thank you’ was a fucking weird thing to say to the guy eating you out. But then you feel Yoongi’s responding moan right into your cunt, the vibrations making your eyes roll back into your head, and his tongue resumes its movements. 

True to his word, he’s taking his sweet time, savoring every bit of you, but you don’t fucking care. You want his cock, desperately, but he can stay down there for hours if he really wants to so long as it feels like this.

You lose track of time, your thighs trembling around his head as you lose yourself in the feeling of his tongue, but you’re quite literally yanked back into the moment when Yoongi lifts his head again, forcefully dragging you closer and latching his lips around your clit. 

“Fuck, fuck—Yoongi, fuck!” you cry out as Yoongi makes it abundantly clear that he’s no longer interested in dragging this out any longer. The way he’s eating you out now is going to make you come, and soon. 

You can hear the wet, filthy sounds of his mouth on you, even over the blood pulsating through your ears, even over the way you’re moaning for him as your orgasm barrels closer. 

Your fingers pull at his hair, your hips shifting to grind against his tongue, and he moans into you again, his hands grasping at your hips to help you move. You take the action for what it is: he wants you to come. Like, now. Well, he doesn’t have to fucking tell you twice.

For the second time, you come from Yoongi’s tongue, writhing beneath him as you moan helplessly. Your body feels like it’s on fire, your muscles clenching and unclenching as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly. 

Yoongi works you through it, but unlike last time he can sense your impending overstimulation before you need to push him away, shifting to sit up on his knees as you catch your breath. 

“So fucking sexy,” he grunts, running his hands over your body as his eyes trail over you appreciatively. 

Shit, he’s one to talk. He looks so hot like this, his hair a mess from your pulling, his lips and chin slick from your pussy. 

Not to mention, just like last time, he’s so fucking hard. The only difference is that this time, he’ll let you have it.

“Wanna touch you,” you breathe, already pushing up shakily to slide your hand beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Yoongi makes no move to stop you, his breath hitching as your hand wraps around him.

His length feels thicker than you expected in your hand, your mind instantly wandering to how it’s going to feel inside of you very soon. You don’t think you’ve ever taken something this thick before, and you want it so fucking bad.

“Shit, baby, just like that,” Yoongi grits out as you start pumping him slowly, his hips bucking forward into your hand. “Feels so good.”

You lean up to capture his lips with yours, tasting yourself on his tongue as the kiss quickly turns sloppy and desperate, lacking all finesse but somehow still so goddamn sexy. All the while, you keep touching him, his breath coming out shaky through his nose as he licks into your mouth with heat. 

When your grasp on his cock gets a little firmer, his hips stutter and his hand comes up to grasp your wrist again, urgently halting your movements.

“Gotta stop. ‘m gonna come if you keep doing that,” he says, pulling away. There’s a flush in his cheeks, spreading down to his chest. It’s almost cute, but then he opens that fucking mouth again, his eyes locked on yours. “Wanna come inside you.”

Fuck.

“Yeah,” you breathe in agreement, nodding jerkily and pulling your hand from his pants in an instant. “Want that. Fuck me.”

Yoongi groans, his eyes shutting tightly. He shakes his head. “Need a minute,” he says, his voice almost pained as he. “Fuck, you’re too much.”

He busies himself with reaching over your body and across the bed, pulling open the drawer of his bedside table. You keep your hands to yourself, ignoring the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch again. If he needs a minute, he can have it. You’ve waited this long.

Once his body returns to yours, he tosses a condom next to you on the bed before dipping down to kiss you again. His lips are gentle on yours this time, slow and almost sweet, unlike any way he’s kissed you so far. The chasteness of it throws you off, but it isn’t necessarily unwelcome—not from Yoongi, at least. He’s probably just trying to chill the fuck out so he doesn’t come too fast, you reason.

After a few minutes, though, Yoongi’s lips part from yours and he presses one last kiss to your temple, reaching for the condom beside you.

“Ready?” he asks, the edge of the foil packet held between his teeth as he sits up, using both hands to push his sweatpants down.

Your eyes are glued to him as he rips the packet open carefully, rolling the condom onto his cock. Your imagination never would’ve done him justice. The sight of his long fingers wrapped around his length is enough for your last thread of patience to snap.

“I think I’m going to die if you don’t fuck me right now,” you say honestly, your eyes unmoving from his cock, and he laughs, sliding a hand up your thigh.

“Dramatic,” he teases, his fingers trailing over your pussy, ensuring that you’re still wet enough to take him. “You think you’re ready for it?” he asks, two fingers prodding at your entrance before they start fucking into you easily. 

You whine, your back arching as his fingers scissor inside your pussy. “Can’t wait anymore,” you gasp out, and he relents, withdrawing his fingers to wrap them around his cock, shifting so he’s over you again.

“Okay, okay,” he murmurs, the tip of his nose grazing yours at this proximity. You feel the blunt head of his cock running through your folds, one last tease, before he lines himself up with your entrance. “I’ll take care of you, baby. Promise.”

Your legs wrap around his hips as he slowly eases in, his breath shuddering next to your ear as he fills you bit by bit. The stretch makes your head spin, but Yoongi takes his time just like he promised, rubbing your hip soothingly to keep you relaxed.

“Finally,” you breathe when he finally bottoms out, and he laughs.

“Yeah? Gonna thank me again?” Yoongi jokes, but the way his cock twitches inside you betrays the way he really feels about that.

“Maybe when you make me come,” you quip in return, but his hips draw back, giving an experimental thrust back into you, and suddenly nothing is all that funny anymore.

You both moan, and Yoongi trails his nose up the side of your neck as he does it again, setting a rhythm of long, slow strokes.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes, the wrecked sound of his voice sending a flare of arousal through you, causing your walls to clench around his cock. “You feel so good.”

All you can do is moan in response, your arms looping around his shoulders, hands in his hair. “Squeezing me so fucking tight,” he grits out, fucking into you just a little bit faster, a little bit deeper.

“Like that,” you gasp out, fingers tightening in his hair out of desperation.

“Yeah?” he groans, snapping his hips into you with more force now. “You want it harder, baby?” At your choked ‘yes’, it’s like a switch has flipped, Yoongi’s hips snapping into you so forcefully you see stars, your thighs beginning to shake on either side of him as he slams into you.

His hands smooth up your thighs, deep thrusts continuing uninterrupted as he positions your legs, pinning your thighs between your bodies so you’re practically folded in half, and oh, fuck. The angle change makes the head of Yoongi’s cock hit the spot that makes you cry out, your nails dragging down the length of his back as you become instantly aware that you’re going to come soon.

“Mm–Yoongi, fuck, please don’t stop—I’m so close, please—”

“Taking me so good,” he groans. “Touch yourself, baby. Make yourself come, I’m right there with you.”

You obey instantly, your hand sliding down between your bodies to rub your clit with two fingers. Your walls flutter around him, making him hiss as you teeter on the edge of your impending orgasm.

Yoongi braces himself, held up with his hands on either side of you. It’s his eyes on you, his lip between his teeth as he watches you touch yourself that finally sends you hurtling over the edge. You squeeze tightly around him as you come, your body convulsing under him as the pleasure washes over you, his name falling from your lips over and over.

“Nghh, good girl, shit,” he grunts, the rhythm of his hips instantly becoming erratic. “Fuck, Y/N. Gonna come.”

It only takes a few more thrusts before you feel Yoongi’s body tense, his cock pulsing inside of you as he spills into the condom with a groan. He drops down to his elbows carefully, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss, his lips moving languidly over yours. 

You kiss him back, but after a few moments you’re suddenly hyper aware of how… intimate this feels, kissing like this as he softens inside of you. You pull away to look up at him. “Thank you,” you say, grinning tiredly as you try to break the tension surrounding the moment.

It seems to work, because Yoongi laughs breathlessly, pulling out of you with care and shifting off of the bed to dispose of the condom. “Funny,” he says.

You take the opportunity to sit up, despite your body feeling like jelly. You don’t think you can take Yoongi cleaning you up on top of what just occurred.

“Bathroom?” you ask, heading to it when he points you in the right direction.

You clean yourself up quickly, and when you return Yoongi is, mercifully, dressed again and retrieving your shorts from the floor for you. You take them with a small, grateful smile, pulling your shorts and top back on.

“So you got your track done?” you ask, trying to make some light conversation.

Yoongi scoffs, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Few hours ago,” he says, tilting his head and looking at you a little funny. Whatever he’s thinking, though, he doesn’t say it. “How was your week, anyway? I know I was a little M.I.A.”

You brighten the slightest bit at his question, joining him on the bed. “Actually,” you say. “Something pretty cool happened yesterday afternoon.”

“Yeah?”

“I kind of got entrusted with this huge assignment. I don’t know if I’ll be able to pull it off, but if I do, it’s a career changer, for sure.”

“Oh yeah?” he says, grinning at you. “That’s great, Y/N. You deserve it.”

His praise makes you blush, looking down to pick at a loose thread on his comforter. You only blush because you know he means it. Yoongi actually reads your stuff. Rina doesn’t even really read your stuff, and she’s your best friend. But maybe it’s because Yoongi is in the music industry and the stuff you publish is more interesting to him.

Yoongi is in the music industry.

It’s like a lightbulb goes off in your head, and you shift closer to him.

“Actually,” you say. “I’m kind of struggling with it? And I was wondering, um… I’d really appreciate it if you could help me out a little bit. Do you happen to know Jang Yijeong?”

Yoongi stiffens next to you, not a lot, but enough for you to notice from this close. “Yeah, I know him,” he says anyway. “We’re friends.”

You’re confused by his reaction, but you soldier on. “I just need an interview with him. I need someone he can trust to set me up with him so he doesn’t give me scripted bullshit, you know? And… If you could be the one to do that, it would make my life a million times easier, honestly.”

For a long moment, Yoongi says nothing, not really looking at you. You don’t know what you said to get this reaction out of him, but you don’t like it, and you’re about to take back your request entirely when he speaks again.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him,” he says. He’s looking at you now, which makes you relax a bit.

“Really?” you ask softly. “Only if you’re okay with it, but it would seriously be a huge help.”

“Yeah, I’ll put in a good word,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. He suddenly seems much less stiff, like whatever weird moment that just took place has passed now, and he laughs. “Just promise you won’t make me regret it.”

At ease, you snort, rolling your eyes. “I promise,” you say flatly, nudging his shoulder with yours. Your voice softens. “Thank you.”

“Sure,” he says easily, getting up from the bed and making his way to the door. “Have you eaten? I’m gonna make kimchijeon.”

Yoongi really is saving your ass. After fucking you so nicely, too. And now he’s making you midnight kimchijeon!

“That sounds good,” you call after him, smiling to yourself after he’s left the room.

Yeah, you can get used to this.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

@dollfaceksj @jajabro @butterymin @coffeedepressionsoup

PREVIOUS CHAPTER ✧ MASTERLIST ✧ NEXT CHAPTER

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Kinktober Day 3 - Orgasm Control

Pairing: Clint Reno x reader

Word count: 1.7K

TWs: Age difference (reader about 20 years older than Clint), begging, licking fingers clean, praise kink, handjobs, oral sex (m and f receiving) fingering, p in v sex, little bit of spanking, teasing,

A/N: Is this the most orgasms written in 1.7K words?! Thanks to @jhoneybees for the idea for this one.

Kinktober masterlist

Your hand moves up his thigh under the long nightshirt, and you grasp his dick firmly. He almost yelps at the touch, he’s so hard and close already one stroke is all he needs before you feel warm wetness all over your hand. You keep pumping, your other hand pulling the nightshirt up to uncover the mess he’s made. You’ve seen a lot of things in your time, but a guy cumming this quickly shocks even you. He whines a little and blushes. 

“Sorry… I w-was too excited…”

His hands reach to touch you but you brush them away, instead lifting the hand that’s covered in his cum up to his lips. 

“Lick it clean for me.”

His eyes are like saucers. He wasn't expecting this when he snuck round to your house in the middle of the night and climbed through your bedroom window. Of course you’ve got a husband but there’s nothing wrong with a little bit on the side now and again. You feel like it’s your duty to train these young boys up so they’re decent once they get wives of their own.

“Go on,” you encourage. “It’s the least you could do, considering how long you lasted.”

His blush deepens and spreads all the way to his ears. This is so embarrassing. But he doesn’t know what else to do, so his tongue creeps out of his mouth and he starts to lick your hand, gingerly. 

“Good boy.”

His dick stirs at the praise and you can’t help but grin at the fact that he’s half-hard again by the time he’s finished. You’ve got time to train him. You start to stroke him again and his hips immediately buck into your hand. Biting your lip, you slow your movements down and watch his reaction. 

“Mmmm. Please.”

“You want to learn to control yourself?” You ask.

He nods eagerly. 

“This is how you do it,” you explain, patiently, your movements agonisingly slow now. 

He throws his head back and whines. 

“Shhh. You need to be quiet. You’re supposed to be sneaking around.”

He pouts and a whispered “sorry” falls from his lips. 

You smile. “You think you’re ready to try something else? Think you can control yourself?”

He nods again. “Yes please.”

“Such a polite boy,” you coo. 

His eyes are roaming all over your body, desperately wondering what you might do next. He’s never even seen a girl naked and he really wants to see and feel what’s under your nightie right now.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies.

That makes you moan a little yourself so you decide to distract him by leaning down and licking the length of him. He can feel his abdomen contracting, his body wanting to cum immediately again at the new and completely delicious sensation. He bites his lip and tries hard to think about something else. His brain lands on your reaction to him calling you ma’am. He might not have much experience but he’s a quick study. You liked it. 

You stroke him again and then slip your mouth over the tip, licking it again and again. He squeaks. 

“I’m gonna… ma’am if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum again.”

It’s your turn to be wide-eyed and a little turned on. He’d noticed your reaction and called you that name again. You pull back off him. 

“Clint, honey, if you’re gonna cum from just that, how do you think we’re ever going to make love?”

Your hand is still moving on him, and the combination of that, your slightly flushed face and the thing you just said makes his hips buck uncontrollably and he has his second accidental orgasm of the night. 

You shake your head and laugh, wordlessly lifting your hand to his mouth. He licks it clean without complaint. 

***

After his fourth orgasm, he lies with his head on the pillow, exhausted. He looks so pretty, rosy lips pouting a little, eyes glassy, hair dishevelled. You can’t resist kissing him, pushing your tongue into his unresisting mouth and exploring it. But you know it’s late, and he needs to go. 

“Come back tomorrow night for another lesson.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Before you go to sleep, you touch yourself thinking about him. He’s so eager to please, his pretty blue eyes looking into yours, looking constantly for approval. You look forward to tomorrow night.

***

This time you manage to swallow his dick completely before he cums unexpectedly down your throat. Since you can’t do what you did when he came on your hand, you turn him onto his stomach and give him a few hard slaps on the ass. 

“No cumming until I say.” You’ve decided to be a bit firmer with him now. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Into the pillow. 

You rub your legs together surreptitiously, and then roll him onto his back. Like some kind of magic trick, he’s basically hard again. You take him into your mouth completely, his pubic hair tickling your nose. He whines softly and starts to slowly roll his hips. This time, he manages to keep it together until you pull off him, staring down at his red, hard dick, sloppy with your saliva. You really want to fuck him but you’re not sure he’s ready. 

“I’m gonna count down from ten, and I want you to cum for me when I’m finished. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“10, 9, 8…” you stroke him firmly with your hand, watching his hands ball into fists trying to stop his orgasm. “...7, 6, 5…” he’s panting now, eyes screwed shut. “...4, 3, 2….1…”

“Now?” he pants, desperately. 

You grin. “Now.”

He lets go, cumming hard and long over your hand. The feeling is so good he has to put his fist in his mouth to stop himself making noise. He’s starting to think that delaying it makes it feel better. Maybe he likes to be teased.

***

“Since you were such a good boy for me last night, I think it might be time to show you something.”

You pull your nightie up and your panties off. He stares at your pussy unabashedly, fascinated by the sight of it. 

“Can I touch it, ma’am?”

You nod and guide his hand between your legs, helping him touch you in the way you like. Leaning back against the headboard and spreading your legs wide, you move your hand to his face. 

“I want you to lick me.”

He doesn’t need asking twice, putting his face between your legs and lapping up your arousal. You moan a little and grab the pillow behind you. You’d certainly taught him enough licking to make him good with his tongue, and he needs very little direction before he’s bringing you to a powerful climax. His heart swells with pride hearing you moan out “Clint,” as you cum. 

“Good boy,” you tell him, kissing him even though his face is covered in you. 

Your fingers gently ease his nightshirt up and you find him hard and leaking precum for you. 

“Let’s see to this first,” you tell him, pumping him quickly and expertly and making him cum in a matter of minutes, “and then you can make love to me.”

You’re not sure why you keep saying ‘make love’. You’re usually a little more crude, but something about his relentless politeness and his big blue eyes make you want to be softer. Something makes you want him to make love to you.  

You know you need to be in control, both because that’s the way your relationship is, and because you have to be able to get off him before he cums. It’s not worth risking the possibility of pregnancy. He might be cute, but you don’t need a baby at your time of life. So you straddle him as he sits at the head of the bed, and slowly sink down onto his dick. 

His eyes roll back in his head. The feeling of you all around him like this is so intense he doesn’t know what to do. His fingers grip the fabric of your nightie and he stares into your face with something akin to desperation. 

“It’s too much,” he whispers. 

You shake your head. “No, no. I want you to please me. You need to make me cum again, and then I’ll let you.”

“Ma’am I…” he mumbles, and you feel his dick twitch inside you. 

“Learn to control it.”

He whimpers but he nods, trying hard to think of something else again. Concentrating on thinking about each of the cows on the farm in turn as you start to slowly move on him. It’s helping a little bit, so he keeps doing it, and then he accidentally looks down at where you’re connected together and has to slam his hand down on the mattress in an attempt to stop himself cumming there and then. 

“Good boy,” you coo, knowing how hard this must be for him. 

You take his hand and press his thumb against your clit as you ride him faster, moans and sighs falling from your lips. He keeps trying to go back to thinking about the cows but you’re so pretty like this it’s hard to concentrate on livestock. It’s even worse when you tell him you’re about to cum and then he feels your walls squeeze him. He almost squeals, and you know you’ll have to move quickly, almost rolling off him and onto the bed. Somehow he manages to hold it together, but the noises he’s making and the begging he’s doing are completely obscene. 

“Please ma’am, please, I need ta cum… need it so bad ma’am…”

You roll closer to him and kiss his cheek. “Touch yourself.”

He does as he’s told, clenching his jaw as his hand moves as slowly as he can manage. 

“Cum for me, baby.”

It’s a matter of seconds later when his release shoots out, making a mess all over him and the bedclothes. You moan watching him, and you can’t help grabbing his face and kissing him passionately. He reciprocates immediately, wrapping himself around you, both of you messy and desperate for one another, despite what you’d just done. He’s making you feel 17 again. 

Eventually you pull back. “You should go.”

He nods, sadly. “Yes, ma’am.” And then, much brighter, “can I come back tomorrow?”

You’d usually say no. You don’t like to get too attached, and he’s learnt a lot. But you’re not sure that saying no to those big eyes is even possible. 

“Sure. I’d love that.”

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @another-identityofmine @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker

[romanscool]

MAXIEL #9 KISS PROMPT OMG

#9: a kiss to shut them up - maxiel: sfw!

this was so fun to write, thanks a lot for the ask!!

anyways, enjoy.

->

Daniel knows he shouldn’t have trusted Max on this one. Not when it involved Max promising he wouldn’t get mad after a game of padel.

Because, the thing is, Max is shit at padel. He’s always been, and most likely will always be, because it’s been almost ten years of playing every Grand Prix week end and he still hasn’t won a game yet. Even against Lando, which says something. But. It’s not like Daniel is any better, though he often finds himself to be flexier than Max is, catching balls that his padel-teammate would never have, and Max does have a habit of pointing it out after. That Daniel is very souple. 

But, anyway. All this to say, Daniel should definitely not have trusted Max when he said that padel was always fun, even if they lost. Definitely even less when Max added maybe they might even win this time. Yeah, that should have been a hint for how this was going to end. 

They lost. Obviously. Except now, Daniel has to deal with a very frustrated Max who, when in this state, finds rambling very relieving.

« -d you even see what he did? Fucking Pierre always with his snarky comment, distracting us. He was very obviously cheating, I cannot believe he would even do that in that way. But, he was teamed up with Charles, so really, I shouldn’t even be fucking surprised ‘cause those two always do weird shit when they’re together-, »

Daniel always notices that Max’s accent pops out more when he’s angry. His red plushy lips lets out more lisp, and all the ‘th’ become ’t’, which makes him sound a little funny, and also a little harsher than he probably means to be, though right now, Daniel thinks he’d like to actually spit those ’t’s as Pierre and Charles. Fucking padel pair that always wins. Daniel should really, really have seen this one coming. 

They’re walking through the paddock now, about to get into their separate garages to start he Singapore qualification session, and apparently, Max still isn’t over their little game of padel last night. He’s been shooting death glares at any Alpine employee, which isn’t very fair, but it’s very Max, so Daniel didn’t comment on it. Since 10pm last night, he has let Max make big ranting gestures in front of him and explain everything that has been wrong with the way Pierre and Charles have played, how their strategy were ‘not fair play, and pretty fucking trying to fuck them up’ - Max’s words -. 

And Daniel is still listening and listening, trying to get into race mode, but he can’t, because God, he’s starting to understand where Max is coming from, because Pierre had made that little racket move to Daniel, that little wave just before he hit the ball, and that had distracted Daniel from the game, and god, why is Max making sense right now-

« -no, ‘cause, like, he should not have hit the ball this way, » Max is still gesturing angrily at whatever in front of him, eyes fixated on the ground, then the ceiling, then Daniel’s face and again on the ceiling, « because it made a little curve that no one could have ever thrown back! It’s so unfair, and Charles has always been this way, always throwing dirty moves that make us unable to fight back, always pushing me off track when I was beginning to win, and we were going to win last night, I felt it, but Charles with his fucking Pierre were so-, » 

Daniel kisses him. Like, hands on either side of his neck, tongue pushing past his lips and hips flush against each other’s kissing, and God, Max is still trying to speak when Daniel pulls away, so Daniel kisses him again, just to make sure he’ll shut up, because Daniel can’t keep listening to this and risk getting into unnecessary fights with an impossible opponent that is Ferrari and a team that’s been at the back of the grid for most the year, he’s supposed to be right at the middle, sandwiched between them. Not fighting. 

Max is the one to break the kiss this time, eyes big and round, breath a little panting from either his rant or the kiss, and Daniel really wishes it’s the kiss, and his lips a slightly parted, red and blotchy just under the freckle that sits so prettily, but they’re starting to move again, to form words, « Daniel, I do not-, » so Daniel has to kiss them quiet again. Max keeps trying to talk, gently but actually not very so, almost biting into Daniel’s lips as he does so, so Daniel puts a hand to his scalp, just behind the ear, rubbing soft circular motion there, and-

Max melts a bit after that. Daniel feels his shoulder slump slightly under his touch, his knees bend just a little and one of his hands settle in Daniel’s curls, and the other on his waist. He’s not trying to pull away anymore, not trying to speak, to argue, if anything, he’s pulling in, in, in, taking Daniel in his arms fully, touching everywhere, and now Daniel pulls away again, because he suddenly remembers they’re minutes away from qualifications and he’s got to get his head in race mode, not go easy on a Red Bull that he will most likely never cross, but who knows. 

Daniel has got to stop being so easily distracted. 

ps: might do an nsfw version of this prompt to post on ao3 for kinktober, let me know if you'd be interested!!

[thelonelyshore-if]

Perri Drabble

Or, Perri wakes up next to MC for the first time.

Perri opens their eyes and sees stars. 

The sky is a silver-dusted black canvas stretched far overhead. Without their glasses the stars are just blurs of light a million miles away, but that doesn’t stop them from being beautiful. The night is crisp. Cold. They shiver, instinctively pulling the sleeves of their cardigan down.

Where…are they?

Calling this grogginess would be an understatement. Their entire body aches. Their eyelids feel heavy, still weighed down by the lull of sleep. Their skull feels like it's been filled with white noise and trying to form a thought is like wading through quicksand.

Is this what getting more than a few minutes of sleep at a time does to you? They aren’t sure they like it. Especially considering that they have no idea how in the world they got outside. For all of their insomnia, they’ve never sleepwalked before. They doubt that they’ve started now. But if not that, then how…?

Aliens.

The idea instantly cuts through the slog of thought. Perri sits bolt upright, eyes splaying wide and pulse growing quick. They grin, even though the motion sends their head into a dizzying spiral. The stars dance overhead and their stomach lurches. They don’t care.

But…wait. No. That doesn’t make any sense.

Perri stares out, realizes that they’re sitting on the deck of their lookout tower. Usually they’d be lying on the cold metal of the deck. Instead, they brush their palm against something soft and worn. Their grandma’s old quilt. Wouldn’t aliens have put them back in bed? Not just dropped them off on the deck?

And the quilt is weird, too. It’s spread out beneath them so deliberately. Did they do that? Why? They furrow their brow.

Perri makes a frustrated noise in the back of their throat. They ball up a fist, gently knock it against their forehead. Someone’s poured tar over their brain, they can’t think, and they can’t remember. They curl up in a huddle, arms wrapped around their legs and forehead pressed against their knees.

Waking up is always confusing. They sleep so rarely that it’s always hellish to claw their way back into consciousness. Even so, this feels different. Perri groans and turns their head to the side.

They turn, and they see you. 

In an instant their blood turns to ice and, nearly as quickly, melts. The excited little pitter-patter of their heart turns into great racing thumps, the weight of it so fast and heavy that it hurts. 

Oh. Oh.

You're lying next to them, body stretched languidly across the quilt. The red light of the radio tower blinks overhead. Lazily, like a pulse. Every few seconds it lights you up with a brilliant crimson haze, and then just as fast you're swallowed by the darkness once again. The illumination makes you look otherworldly, like some kind of fae creature sprawled out on their deck.

Perri tries to swallow and finds that they can't, that a rock has been wedged down their throat. Cold sweat beads on their forehead and trickles down the small of their back. There's a pinching behind their ribs that stings harder and harder with each throbbing beat of their heart.

They look away. They can’t stand watching you any longer, not when everything is a blur. Instead they stare out at the forest. They can’t make out any details, not really, but they do see the thick layer of late night fog smothering the trees. Normally they like the fog. They like how it swallows everything until they’re just a tower in the sky overlooking a sea of gray.

Right now, though, it’s isolating. They’re trapped.

Did they…did you…?

You’re lying next to them on the deck of their lookout, so clearly something happened. Perri sits up, risks another peek. You look disheveled, but of course you would. You’re sleeping outside, in the cold, in the middle of October. It doesn’t diminish your beauty, and Perri has to look away again.

Fuck.

They look at their hands. Their arms. Take stock of their body. They’re in yesterday’s cardigan and a pair of plush pajama pants. If you two had…if something had happened, they wouldn’t be dressed. Right?

They can’t take comfort in it for long, because you’re still here. They woke up next to you under the stars, and they have no fucking clue why.

Well–that isn’t true. They have some inkling as to why. You’re here because whenever they see you their heart dances. Because you make them smile. You’re beautiful, and they adore you already, and somehow you like them back. Of course they wanted you here. 

If only they could remember asking.

Perri can’t take this anymore. They get to their feet, trying not to look at you. They wring their hands over and over. The gesture calms them down, if only a little. It’s easier to think when their fingers are busy.

Memory has always been a tricky thing for Perri. Their insomnia has taken huge bites out of their brain, chewing things like memories into barely-recognizable bits. People are supposed to sleep, as a rule, and they don’t. Not really.

They stumble over to the tower railing, staring out at the fog. They just need to think, and it will come to them. What did they do last night–that’s where they need to start.

Did they put on their show? Surely they did, they so rarely miss it. If so…were you there? Did you stay after? Did you ask to stay…did they offer? They can’t imagine they would have. As much as they like you, they’re terrified. Now more than ever.

What did you two talk about? Did you watch the stars? They’ve always loved how the stars look out here. This far out from town you can see them all.

Did you kiss them?

Perri’s heart constricts. They feel sick. What if you did?

They aren’t sure they can take the thought of kissing you for the first time and forgetting about it. Anguish washes over them, leaving them feeling brittle. Like any second now they might break into a hundred tiny pieces.

“Hey.”

They spin around, heart instantly in their throat. You’re sitting up, huddled with the quilt wrapped around your shoulders. They can make out enough of your face to see that you’re smiling, though you look half asleep. A thin layer of mist curls around you, so pale they can hardly see it.

Perri meets your eyes and it’s like getting hit by a truck.

You did sit in during their show. You listened as they talked to callers, occasionally chiming in with your thoughts. You smiled at them over the soundboard, your eyes sparkling. They teased and joked in a way they don’t usually. They always feel more confident when they’re on air…and they wanted to impress you.

The whole time they wondered if you were flirting. You kept smiling at them. Making excuses to touch them–hand brushing against one another, shoulders bumping. Each time they felt half-nauseous with anxiety…and excitement, too.

And then the show ended, and they felt suddenly bold. Asked if you wanted to see the stars. They had the perfect place for it, they explained. They took you out onto the deck, spread out a tattered old quilt beneath you. Pointed out their favorite constellations.

At one point you rolled over on your side. Watched them, instead of the stars.

“What are you doing?” they whispered.

“This,” you responded, just as soft, before kissing them.

How could Perri forget?

“Um. Hi.”

They turn and face you now, emotions they can’t quite sort out churning within. They feel as elated as they are terrified. You let the quilt drop off your shoulders, smoothing it flat once again before patting the empty spot at your side.

“It’s pretty cold without you,” you say, and they think they might cry.

“Sorry,” their voice breaks, a little, but if you notice you don’t say anything.

“Come back to me?”

Perri can’t refuse. They return to your side, drop to their knees. They can’t believe they almost forgot their first night with you. In an instant they know that what they’re feeling is relief. It crashes over them so fiercely that it feels like it could knock them over. 

It makes them bold.

They kiss you. It’s clumsy, but it’s good. So good. They feel tears prick at the corners of their eyes. You kiss them back with a sleepy enthusiasm. When they pull away you reach up, brush away their tears.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, doubt flickering across your face.

“I–” they start, before stopping. Shaking their head. They remembered, in the end, so it doesn’t matter, does it? They remember you. Of course they remember you.

“I’m just happy,” Perri says. 

And they're not even lying. Not really.

[loserlvrss]

𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ( 이민호 )

pairing : lee minho x fem!reader genre : drabble, domestic fluff warnings : mentions of being sick & food, skinship word count : 0.6k authors note : i know u know lee know btw

“just sit down,” your boyfriend was pushing you into the barstool beside the kitchen island.

your arms crossed over your front, features pouting. “you know, minho, i’m sick, not useless.” you exaggerated with your hands, swinging them out beside you. “i can—i can, i don’t know, cut up the carrot or something!”

he smiled adoringly at you, like one would a cute animal or small child, and shook his head. “what kind of chef boyfriend would i be if i made you do the work?”

you rolled your eyes, knowing that it was ultimately useless to argue with the lee minho; he’d get what he wanted in the end. and frankly, you weren’t good at cooking. that’s why you two worked so well, he had his little hobby to destress and you were always fed. a win-win.

so, when you woke up in the middle of the night with a stomach ache, only sleeping a couple hours after that, he was quick to jump into the kitchen. he wanted to make you something his mom would make when he was sick as a kid—you found the gesture it sickeningly sweet. he must really love you, you thought.

he’d gotten started in silence. usually he’d let you talk about everything and nothing at the same time, but he’d never pry if you didn’t feel like it. and, today must’ve been one of those days, as you just watched with closed lips.

he looked so beyond good when he cooked—arguably better than the food. and nothing was more attractive than his desire to take care of you. he didn’t even go back to sleep until he knew you were okay, trailing you into the bathroom and getting you medicine before you even asked. he made sure you were warm and properly cuddled under the blankets (in his arms), rubbing your back until peacefully off in dreamland.

honestly, you owe those couple of hours to him.

“hey minho?” the silence was finally broken, your boyfriend stopping all his movements for a second and looking at you. his eyebrows rose in a non-verbal approval to go on and ask. “i know we’re already dating, but i have a big crush on you. i just thought you should know.”

he huffed out a laugh, “is that so?”

“yeah, in case you want to do anything with that knowledge.” you admitted innocently, “like marriage or something.”

“i plan on it, love.”

you made a face, something between disbelief, mock-disgust and blushing. “if you were over here i’d kiss you… thrice.”

he eyed you suspiciously, “you just didn’t want to say twice ‘cause then i’d start dancing to alcohol free.”

“maybe,” you joked, getting from your chair and making your way around the counter. he pretended to be offended, steadily chopping up the various vegetables again, and ignoring you. “you know i love your one-man show, baby.”

he smirked slightly—though you couldn’t see—but still was childishly giving you the silent treatment. you pleaded, wrapping your arms around his waist and kissing his clothed spine once, before pressing your cheek to it. “there’s literally no one else i’d rather listen to sing red velvet while they shower.”

“i knew you listened, weirdo.” he chuckled, “if you wanted me to sing to you, i would, you don’t have to creep around.”

you lightly squeezed, “oh, shut up.”

and then suddenly he burst out into song, scaring you, but then sending you into a fit of giggles as the choreography soon followed; the knife safely out of his grip.

you watched in awe of his playfulness, disguised by straight lips and lidded eyes. you really couldn’t read a book by its cover, you thought, because this stupidly-handsome book always knew how to make you feel better.

please reblog and like <3 comments are appreciated ! thank you 4 reading © loserlvrss 2024 all rights reserved. 

networks : @blossomnet @starlit-network @k-films @kstrucknet

taglist : @seomisaho @mystarsohee @jihyokat | send an ask to be added. 

back to masterlist !

[bomber-grl]

Flufftober 2024

Day 1: can’t sleep

Pairing(s): Damian Wayne x Gn!Reader

No matter how much you repositioned, tossed and turned, you couldn’t fall asleep.

The reason behind your current predicament eluded you and your mind quickly turned to the fact (that you didn’t even know was true) that if you couldn’t sleep, it was because someone was watching you.

You quickly jumped out of bed and out your room at the thought and made your way to the other side of the hall. The scary nature of the thought was getting to you as you could’ve sworn you heard a few noises here and there. Only more reason to walk faster.

Stopping in front of a door, you knocked and knocked over again until the door was swung open begrudgingly.

“What.” It wasn’t phrased like a question, it was more like a ‘tell me why you’re bothering me in the middle of the night before I kill you’- type of phrasing.

“I can’t sleep” you responded and Damian’s expression was priceless.

“Not my problem”, he went to slam the door shut (despite the other sleeping residents) but you held it open before it could could.

“Pleaseeee, I started thinking scary thoughts” both your hands rose to the sides of your head, as if that proved your point.

“-plus I really can’t sleep-“ Damian quickly interjected “so you came here to bother someone who was clearly, already sleeping?” You could’ve sworn you heard ‘where’s the logic in that’, though it went without being vocalized.

Plus you had to hold back from responding how obvious it already was because of that awful bed head of his-

“Pleaseee” back to begging. All Damian did was sigh and turn back to his bed. It was his way of saying ‘yes’.

Closing and locking the door behind you, you followed Damian and slid into the covers next to him.

You were both laying there in silence when you made eye contact. When you smiled, Damian turned his body to face the other way.

“Damian why are you so mean?” You grabbed onto his waist area as if that’d move him.

“I don’t know maybe because not only did someone interrupt the very little sleep I already normally get but because it’s cold, yknow just a hunch” you had an feeling that if Damian wasn’t faced away from you, he would’ve been glaring daggers.

“Well, it’s ok” you said completely ignoring him “because I forgive you, I know you can’t help being a tsundere and all-“. Damian couldn’t have moved faster than he did, he quickly clasped a hand over your mouth. His face was burning red and his brows were furrowed. You had managed to fluster him with your (in his words) ‘cringe’ wording.

“I am not” he struggled to get it out “that.” He removed his hand and went to his laying position, though he didn’t face away this time.

He let out a sigh and turned his attention back in you. “I don’t mean to be “mean” but you could’ve just slid into bed and not have woken me up.”

That was true.. most days Damian doesn’t get much sleep because of having to balance his school during the day and vigilante-ing during the night (though occasionally during the day)

“Yea I’m sorry about that” you reached for his hand and held it firmly “I meant it when I said I couldn’t sleep, but I guess I was also just missing hanging out.”

A light blush creeped onto Damian’s face, though you couldn’t really see it this time despite him being in direct moonlight. Unlike his previous reactions, he smiled.

“Yea, I feel the same way” he was obviously a bit embarrassed of saying this out loud and looked away a bit.

What happened next was almost natural- ‘almost’ because the way Damian tensed didn’t go completely unnoticed.

You leaned in as did Damian, and your lips met. Actually, your lips met and separated a more times than you’d like to admit.

Once you two officially separated from each other, rather than being the usually bashful expression he has- he had a deadpan one.

“Stop molesting me” Damian said this with an annoyed tone more than anything. Honestly you were surprised it took this long for him to comment on your “fondling” although it was just you disturbingly gripping onto his back.

“I thought you liked it-“ another slap to the mouth, two times in a night. Newest low score.

“Shhhh, go to bed you look cuter that way-“ “you think I’m cute?”

You quickly shut the fuck up since Damian did NOT look like he was playing anymore.

Anyway you peacefully managed to cuddle with Damian without getting killed and slept off to dreamland. I’m surprised you even made it

The next morning no one gaf when they saw you come out of the same room. Nightly occurance if anything.

[uhhsoph]

Class of ‘21

—————————————

-pairing: softdom!chris & sub!reader

-warnings: unprotected p in v (don’t do that guys) kissing, making out, fingering, public sex, praising, use of y/n (very brief)

-a/n- this is probably so bad but I rushed heavy I’m insanely tired goodnight lovies 🤍

Of all of the places I thought I’d be tonight, I didn’t think I’d be here. I’ve shitted on everything and anything that had to do with my high school years. Yet, here I was standing in the middle of the same nasty, mold infested, gymnasium I was 3 some years ago.

I decided to come to my reunion because I had nothing else to do. Was it the best thing I could’ve done with my time? Maybe not, but I guess it was cool to see how everyone changed and grew into themselves. Sure, I missed high school sometimes but high school was shit mostly. I mostly kept to myself and a few friends I’d kept from middle school. I was focused on my self and my future, and I’m proud of who I’ve become. Back then, I wish I could tell myself it’d be worth it, because it was.

I walked around to see if any of my old friends have decided to show up too. I kept walking until I felt a light, gentle, tap on my shoulder. I turn around and get met with the eyes of my friend, Nessa.

“Where have you been all night? I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“I’ve just been here, you must’ve not looked hard enough.” I speak with a smile. The air in the gym getting more stuffy and unbearable by the second, the stuffiness due to it being stuffed to the brim with most of the class of 2021.

“I swear I’ve swept the place looking for you. But at least I found you, because guess who’s here.” She smirks slightly, a mock pang of flirt laced in her voice. Guessing was absolutely never my thing.

“I don’t know, enlighten me.” I chuckle.

“Come on, not even a small guess?” She fake pouts. I take a few seconds to rake my brain of who, or maybe what, she could possibly be so excited about.

“Ness, I don’t know. Kaylee from bio?” I furrow my eyebrows as I made a guess. A small one, but still a guess.

“You’re no fun! Christopher Sturniolos here.” She says with excitement, somewhat evident in her voice. Chris was my long time crush all throughout high school, no shot he even knew who I was. We’ve interacted maybe once, we had classes together but what’s that in a building full of girls? Chris was popular, everyone liked him. I wasn’t special for feeling the same way, I knew that.

“Respectfully Ness, what am I supposed to do with that? Everyone’s probably swarming over him asking about his life after high school.” I laugh.

“Respectfully, you’re so hot now. I bet if you tried talking to him, you’d be his first priority.” She grins at me, fanning herself dramatically.

“You’re on some crazy shit.” I retort with a small chuckle before continuing. “I’m going to grab a drink. You want one?” I ask.

“I’m okay, but hey. While you’re gone, try and get a peak at Chris. See if he’s still as amazing as you thought he was.” I roll my eyes playfully as I start walking to the drinks table.

I push past the crowds of people catching up, crying, hell, going through the 5 stages of grief over reuniting with their old friends. I see the table straight through a few people, I walk behind them swiftly, seeing Chris with a group. I take a quick glance at him, which he returns, but nonetheless I keep walking to the table. He’s definitely still what he used to be, hot as shit.

I approach the table, somewhat distracted by everything that’s happening around me. Well, except one thing. Before I can react, I see this girl attempting to launch a solo cup of fruit punch at this guy. The guy obviously notices before me as he moves out of the way, the fruit punch obliviously landing on me, seeping deeper into the soft fabric faster by the second. I look down at my light colored dress, now stained red wondering how the fuck I’m going to get this out.

I glance around, thankfully not many people were paying attention to the whole scene. The girl angrily muttering apologies as she grabs the guy by his wrist, dragging him out of the gym and outside, probably to scream more curses at him. I cuss silently to myself as I make my way to the bathroom to try and clean this up. I feel someone lightly grab my shoulder. I turn around to meet the eyes of, none the other, Chris. My face softens ever so slightly as I meet his captivating eyes, forgetting the reason why I was mad for a second.

“Hey, I saw what happened are you… good?” He asks. I let out a breathy chuckle as I peer down at my dress again.

“I mean… not really. I don’t know how I’m gonna get this stain out.” I say as casually as I can. I can’t take another embarrassment tonight.

“Here, I can help you? I don’t know much I can but I’ll try.” He laughs. I chuckle and nod as I let him led me to an empty classroom, which happened to be the math class, the class I shared with him in senior year, something I doubt he’d remember. He pats the table in front of the sink for me to sit on and looks under the cabinet for some paper towels. He rummages under carelessly until he finds some. He dampens the paper towel as he gently dabs it onto my dress, applying slight pressure to soak up the red liquid on the soft fabric.

“This place looks the same, doesn’t it?” He questions, keeping his focus on trying to get the stain out.

“Hm?” I question, confused, he can’t be talking about what I think he’s talking about.

“This is one of the classes I had with you, right?” He pauses for a second and looks up at my face, giving me his full and complete attention. My face slowly breaks into a grin.

“Yeah, it is. Honestly, I’m surprised you even know who I am.” I admit honestly with a slight laugh.

“How couldn’t I?.” He chuckles as he continues back to wiping gently at my dress. I shake my head and chuckle slightly.

“What do you mean?.” I ask, a smile on my face as I furrow my eyebrows.

“I-I don’t know, let’s just forget about it.” He shook it off, basically mentally face palming himself as if he said something wrong. We sit in somewhat comfortable silence as I keep looking at Chris, he seems to be contemplating something in his head before he talks again.

“Y/n?” He questions, stilling his movements and looking up at me

“Hm?” I look at him too.

“I’ve always thought you were pretty. Even since, like, freshman year. And you still are, which is why I’m kinda terrified to say the wrong things. I always have it’s just, now we aren’t even in Highschool and I know I shouldn’t even be telling you, kinda stupid right?” He confesses, looking basically anywhere but my eyes.

I sit dumbfounded. After a few seconds, I smile. He was so genuine and I don’t think I’ve seen him, let alone anyone that, vulnerable with me for awhile. “I’ve always liked you too, I just… never thought you’d notice me”I whisper back, trying to open up about it to him.

“I noticed. I definitely noticed.” He whispers as he finally meets my eyes. I look back, not being able to look away.

He stands all the way up, towering over me sitting on the table, moving his face closer to mine. He stays there, probably waiting for me to make a move to completely connect our lips. I look into his blue eyes, before grabbing his jaw and connecting my lips with his, something I’ve wanted since freshman year. He immediately reciprocates, wrapping his arms around my body. I move my arms to rest behind his neck, deepening the kiss. He gently bites my bottom lip to gain entry, which I allow embarrassingly quick. His tongue explores every inch of my mouth, pulling away for a quick second.

“Jump.” He says, gripping my ass, keeping his face close to mine. I do as he says and allow myself to wrap my legs around his waist.

He places his hands under my thighs and then he throws his lips back onto mine. He spins me around and pins me to the counter, the kiss growing more desperate every second. He sets me down on the counter, leaning me up against the back wall. His hands roaming my body as I do the same. Touching every inch I possibly could, as if he’d vanish any second. I capture all his breaths and pants into my mouth as he does the same with mine. He starts to move his hands towards the top of my thighs, rubbing circles with his thumb on the bare skin. I grab his collar and pull him impossibly close, his tongue growing faster against mine. I reach my hand down to his belt and run my hands over it. He quickly pulls away and takes his belt off.

“You wanna do this?” He asks, looking at me breathlessly.

“Fuck Chris, yeah.” I pant. To that, he groans and hooks his hands under my thighs, pulling my body into his. His bulge pressing on me was enough for me to snap into a billion pieces. He looks down at silently curses when he realizes I’m not wearing underwear.

“Such a good fucking girl..” He leans down and collects the wetness that’s accumulated around my thighs.

“Shit Chris.” I throw my head back as his hand reaches my clit, rubbing firm circles on the small bundle of nerves. I moan out as his circles get faster.

“Shhh, angel, you don’t want the whole school to hear how good I’m making you feel do you?” He smirks lightly as he runs his thumb along my bottom lip, pulling it down to push his thumb in my mouth. I close my lips around it as my eyes roll back into my head. He moves his fingers lower and pushes them inside of my pussy. The familiar feeling in my stomach threatening to snap every second he continues.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” Chris praises as his eyes move from my face to my pussy rapidly. I whine as my back arches into him.

“I-I’m gonna cum.. fuck chris! Oh my god” I moan as my fingers lace behind his neck, tangling themselves in his hair.

“Come on baby, cum on my fingers.” Chris replies as he’s focusing on my face, licking his lips. I try my best to focus on his face as I feel my first orgasm of the night crash over me, almost to fully convince my mind he’s still here, or here in the first place.

“Perfect, fuck..” He smirks before shoving his fingers in his mouth, sucking the juices off slowly. Which was almost enough to make me cum again right there.

“I need you.” I say out in desperation.

“Yeah?” He raises his eyebrows as he starts to unbuckle his pants. I nod embarrassingly fast. He grips my ass and picks me up again, spinning me around and pinning me on the table that was once behind him. He then maneuvers his cock out of his boxers, pre cum leaking over the tip, which is bright pink and begging for attention. My mouth waters at the sight of him.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to see you like this.” He whispers, his voice gravelly as he moves his dick up and down my folds.

“No teasing.. fuck.” I throw my head back in anticipation, excitement bubbling in my stomach.

“Tell me how much you want it.” He challenges, breathlessly, almost trying to delay himself so this moment lasts longer.

“S’bad.. so so bad please.” I practically beg. He starts to slowly inch himself inside of me, groaning the deeper he gets.

“Mm, you’re so tight.” He practically whines as he throws his head back, starting to slowly thrust himself.

“Faster chris.” I moan, repeating his name over and over again. His thrusts getting faster, the moans and pants between us both is all we can comprehend.

“Fuck.. you’re so so good for me, angel.” He leans down starts kissing my jaw slowly. I place one of my hands on the back of his neck, and the other one wrapped around his back. He starts running his hands up and down my body. I arch off the table, whining as my second orgasm rapidly approaches.

“I-Im so close.. oh oh my god!” I moan out.

“Shit, me too.” He replies, his thrusts getting sloppier as I start clenching around him, cumming on his dick.

“I’m gonna cum… where do you want it?” He asks quickly.

“Anywhere”

He quickly pulls out as cum paints my stomach where my dress hitched up, as he curses under his breath. He leans down and captures my lips in his again. We sit there, our lips enveloping each others… that’s until we hear a swift knock on the door.

“Hey, what are you guys doing in there?”

~

[madamechrissy]

Kisses in the Dark

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Megumi Fushiguro x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings/content ♡ ♡ Cunnilingus, fingering, rough sex, dirty talk, low key praise kink (idiots to lovers)

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 6.5k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ You have been in love with Megumi Fushiguro since middle school, but you, Nobara, Yuji and him are all best friends. You're such good friends you've lived together during college, and you're good at keeping it in, until one night he goes on a date. You end up hopeless, thinking of him, and your vibrator is broken too!! So you try to do things... yourself. Megumi thinks he hears you cry :'( And checks on you! Then decides to help you, as a friend?

We'll see how that works!

A/N- first Megumi x reader! Four part story, lots of fluff, tension and smut, friends to lovers <3 (Gumi and reader are 20 in this)

Part Three ♡ ♡ Masterlist ♡ ♡ Playlist

Part Four- Final Part

One week Later

Megumi Fushiguro, your ‘best friend’ is annoying.

No, Megumi is worse than annoying, he’s infuriating.

Even as his cock is pumping in and out of your pussy, and his hand is over your mouth, and you’re glaring at him in your bathroom mirror, bent over the sink as Yuji and Nobara are just in the living room. Your pussy is throbbing around him, walls fluttering as you’re soaking his cock, as his dark green eyes hit your own in the mirror, drinking in the flush of your cheeks.

Your eyes roll back when he’s slinked a hand down and is rolling a thumb on your clit, bringing you over the edge, his thick leaky tip is shoved against your cervix, and you’re screaming into his hand. He’s smirking deviously at you, those full lips quirked up as his eyes get lidded, and he’s pressing his hand so hard on your mouth you can’t breathe as you cum.

Your orgasm hits in a wave, spreading through your entire body, making you gasp, and Megumi’s lips are now on your ear, tickling it as he rolls his hips, making you cum even harder. You hear his sexy little moan, so breathy and quiet, as he’s feeling your aftershocks around him, as you’re dripping down his cock, down your sticky thighs, to the bathroom floor.

“Be quiet, Angel, what would they say?” He whispers, and you realize he’s a whole fucking demon.

You can’t speak back, not when his hand is stopping you, not when he’s fucking you into the damn counter, his thrusts harder now, faster. You’re still recovering from one orgasm, as he pushes you into another, overstimulated and sensitive, tears pricking your eyes from how good it feels. Fuck, nothing has felt as good as Megumi’s cock thrusting inside your eager cunt.

“That’s it, such a good girl.” He whispers, knowing what it does, and his hand that was on your clit now slips around to press on your lower tummy, his eyes locking with yours in the mirror as your hands clutch his arms. “You’re eager, hmm Angel?”

You can’t speak, he knows it, your face is blushing with the effort to stay quiet, as his black spiky hair tickles your face, he nips at your neck with sharp teeth, taking you over the edge again. You’re so oversensitive as he rocks inside of you, your little entrance sore from the stretch, from his mean cock bullying into you over and over again.

“Want me to fill you, Angel?” You are starting to hate what he does to you, the desperate mess he makes you.  You yank his hand down then, glaring back at him, taking a shaky breath.

“No, no more cumming in me as a f-friend. You can… f-fucking pull… out…” You say through your teeth, and he pauses, raising his brows, some of that sarcastic little attitude gone for a moment.

“Oh yeah, don’t want it then, Angel?” He asks, and you shake your head. Fucking him all week, and him cumming in you? It’s wrecked your mind. “I wanna cum in your perfect pussy though.” He pouts, all cute, and you damn near succumb.

“Not… as a friend. Have a date tonight. Ah!” He slams your cunt then, and you can’t hide your little smile at his anger.

“What now?” He fucks you so hard it hurts, yanking on your hips, and you have to bite your own knuckles not to scream, your tits bouncing in your tank top, your little shorts around your ankles. “A date!?” He hisses.

“Mmm… mmhmm. Don’t wanna drip all night.” He pulls your hair then, and you gasp at how good it feels, at how different it is from what you’re used to. “What’s wrong, best friend?”

“You’re a brat, fine, then you don’t cum again.” He pulls out, leaving you empty, before cumming all over your ass, moaning softly as he does, and you feel him so hot and sticky along your ass, your back, in hot ropes. You catch his angry glare in his reflection, and you smile. “You did that on purpose.”

“We are just friends. You said so. Don’t be mad when I agree.” He huffs, cleaning you up gently and carefully, as if he hadn’t just been fucking the shit out of your now sloppy cunt.

“A date?”

“Go on now, before they notice.” You say, pulling your shorts up, turning and then getting pressed against the counter, Megumi looming over you, arms on either side. It’s hard to stand firm when he’s so pretty.

“Why a date, when I can fuck you all night.” He says softly, brushing your hair back behind your ear, and you tremble, your knees weak, making you worry your bottom lip with your teeth.

“Remember what you said. Friends.”

He rolls his eyes, jaw tensing. “Stop fucking saying it.”

“You said it!”

“Um, are you all good?” Yuji's voice comes then, and you panic, pushing him away now, fixing your hair and adjusting the top that had spun completely.

“He’s just hogging the hot water.” You turn off the shower you all had been running. “He’s a dick.”

Megumi pulls your hair again, earning a quiet whimper, and you just pray no one hears, as his lips hover over yours. “I was not, she's impatient.”

Megumi releases you now, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around himself over his boxers, as you splash water in his perfect hair, grinning, earning a further scowl. “Oh, all right, thought you all were like fucking.”

“What!?” You both yell out, and Yuji just laughs, walking off, as you and Megumi struggle to get your breath. You can still feel the sting of where his cock had stretched your little pussy out, still feel the throb on your overstimulated clit. It’s like Megumi consumes you.

“Are you really going on a date?” He demands, and you shrug a shoulder, nodding then.

“Of course, what’s stopping either of us? This will end when we get serious with someone else, right?”

“You want this to end?” He kisses you then, and you melt, your knees so weak he has to wrap a hand around your hips to help you stay up. “Stop lying.”

“No I don’t want it to end, but how long do friends fuck?”

“Longer than a week. Plus you know it won’t be near as good, with anyone, yeah?” You raise a brow at him, sensing his upset, his desperation.

Good.

You need to get some emotion out of this damn boy, and a date is exactly how you think you’ll find out. It’s not like you want to. “Maybe it won’t be better, but I can’t close myself off, right best buddy?”

“Best buddy!?” He speaks through his teeth, you watch his jaw clench in anger, and feel your own blood pressure rising.

“Mmhmm. Go on now.” You tap his cheek, opening the door, and when he angrily stomps out you press your back against the door, unable to catch a breath, blinking hot emotion back.

It had been a week of him fucking you in all sorts of ways, every time you all had a damn moment alone, every night, every morning. He’d lick your pussy under your blankets at night, making you bite back that dreaded I love you. He took you from behind, laying on top of you, fucking you into a stupid amount of feelings, so much you’d cried during it.

You can’t even imagine another man, ever, he had achieved his goal of ‘ruining you’ that was certain. But it was ruining you in too many ways, as much as you craved him, as mind blowing as it was, he gave no signs of getting serious. Well, he seriously fucked the daylights out of you. He seriously would eat you until you came so much you couldn’t breathe.

He seriously confused you.

You fall ever deeper in love, and you don’t think you can take the heartbreak when all of it ends.

You get ready for your date, your mind racing with thoughts of Megumi that night, and you try to push them away, telling yourself it’s just sex, it’s just a bit of fun to him, right? But as you slip on your dress, you catch yourself looking at yourself in the mirror, remembering how his hands had felt on your skin. You touch your neck, where his teeth had been, and a shiver runs down your spine.

You’re adjusting your necklace on your collar bone, leaning forward and running lipstick along your mouth then. You’re wearing a pretty little red dress, it cinches in your waist and flares out, you snap a little black belt around your waist, spinning this way and that. It hits mid thigh, showing much of your legs, and the high heels you’re wearing only enhance it.

You step out, and Nobara and Yuji whistle, while Megumi is glaring at you, still furious from this morning, clearly. You’d avoided him all damn day. His eyes are dark and hungry as they rake down your body, then back up, lingering on the cleavage exposed, your breasts pressed together in a pretty bra, making them look more pronounced.

It may or may not have been on purpose.

You’d covered the hickey on your neck and the three marks on your chest with concealer, but you can feel them burning, as if he’s igniting and enhancing those marks, like he’s sucking on your skin again. You struggle to stay composed, to smile brightly at Yuji and Nobara, who were also going out tonight with Megumi to a party.

“You look so hot, babe! Doesn’t she, Megumi?” Megumi blinks those long lashes, his arms crossed as he leans against the island of the kitchen, looking to Nobara and raising a brow.

“Why are you asking me?” He huffs the words, and Nobara and Yuji smirk at each other.

“Well do you have an ugly sweater for her again, buddy?” Yuji asks, patting his shoulder, and Megumi brushes his hand off, sighing.

“Tch.” He looks at you then though, and sighs, staring right into your eyes, making your pulse flutter. “You look beautiful. I’m sure your date will think so.”

“Oh, thank you-”

“I’m getting ready.” He walks off then, and your brows knit together, as you hear his door shut with a resounding click, and Nobara comes up to you then, hands behind her back, leaning forward and tilting her pretty face.

“Wanna tell us something?” She asks, and you feel your skin overheated, as you nervously fiddle with your gold clutch.

“N-no, what could you mean?” You can’t even look at her brown eyes, nor Yuji’s, they’d see right through you.

“Uh huh. Sure, Angel. You have him furious.” Yuji taunts you now, and you look up at the ceiling. “Can’t even face us with the lie?”

“It’s not your business. Anyway, I have a date.”

“Uh huh.” They say, earning your glare, before you dart away.

Your date is okay, they’re nice even, they laugh at your stupid attempts at jokes, they listen to your stories, but it’s like they’re not even there really. Every touch on your shoulder or thigh feels disgusting, even though they’re actually very attractive. But they’re just… they’re not him.

Megumi is so annoying.

You imagine he’s at the party in a corner, looking so cool and emo, as he does, and girls are flocking up to him, to get that little quirk of his perfect lips, or to get a glimpse at his gorgeous eyes. Lashes that no man should rightfully have, hovering over that intense gaze.

He’d probably end up talking to someone, just like you are now, but why does it break you to think about? Why does the thought of him with anyone absolutely crush you now that you’ve kissed him, touched him, been under him? How can you ever move on if you feel that pleasure, if you feel so desired, so beautiful…

You can’t move on or have a life with Megumi looming, consuming you.

You keep peeking at your phone, wondering, would he text you? And knowing he wouldn’t, stubborn boy that he is. You still look down at times, then flicker your gaze back to your date. Every smile feels so forced, every kiss feels like a lie. And when you look into their eyes, all you see is Megumi’s smirk as he makes you a mess.

As the night goes on, you find yourself comparing every little thing about this person to Megumi, which just isn’t fair. How they don’t make you laugh as much, how they don’t understand you like he does, how they don’t look at you the same. Could anyone look at you like Megumi? With that heady gaze, the one that made you feel you were everything.

But you weren’t. You couldn’t be.

The boy takes you home, and you contemplate it. Should you kiss him just so you can hide your own feelings, so you can act like you’re okay? But when he leans down, and you lean up, and you press your lips to his, it feels hollow, it feels like absolutely nothing but a brush of lips. It’s not even bad, the boy is sweet, but all you can think about is how much you want that dumb boy you’re in love with.

But you know you can’t be with him. You can’t keep doing this to yourself, or to him. It’s going to ruin your friendship, and that’s the one thing you can’t afford to lose, so you have to act like this is fine now. So you lie, you smile, you thank the boy for the nice evening, and hug him before you walk inside, unlocking the door and dreading the long night ahead.

Fuck you are feeling more lost than you ever have before, before you knew what you felt with Megumi fully, when it was just a little crush it had been so much easier to brush off. You shut the door and lock it up again, blinking a bit as your eyes adjust to the dark, and you put your purse up on the hook, sighing.

“Fuck… fuck this. Shit.” You cover your face, feeling your breaths quicken, as tears fill your eyes, threatening the lashes you’ve meticulously glued on, but you’d rip 'em off, what did it matter? No matter how pretty you look, no matter how good you are, you’re not enough to make him choose you. “Not enough.”

“Not enough for who? What’s wrong, did he make you cry!?” Megumi’s voice shocks you, and you jump then, nearly falling in your heels, and he catches you, as he stares at you in the dark room.

“Gumi, wh-what are you doing at home?” You whisper, and he sighs, brushing the tears from your cheeks with a gentle touch, as you stable yourself, holding onto his shoulders. Fuck he feels good, fuck he smells good…

“I couldn’t stand the party, thinking of you. Kissing someone.” He says angrily, and you blink at the tone of the usually calm boy you know so well.

“You care?” You whisper, making Megumi sigh, rolling his eyes and then cupping your face with his big hands.

“What sort of question is that? You think I don’t care? Did you kiss him?”

You look down then, nodding, and feeling his grip tighten, as your little hands grip strong wrists. “I didn’t like it. But I had to.”

“What, why do you have to?”

Your eyes lock on him now. “To forget that I’m in love with you.”

It’s silent then, and you internally curse yourself, as you know now your friendship is over, it’s fucking demolished, along with your heart, that shatters bit by bit as he stares at you in shock. His lips part, as he’s breathing heavy now, and so are you, as your breaths mingle in the quiet night, and that’s the only sound there is, along with the thudding of your hearts.

“I know, I’m sorry, okay? I couldn’t do it casually. I should have never even let you kiss me, touch me, when I’ve been in love with you for years. Yes, years. Okay? And I know you don’t feel the same, I was selfish to let it go on. Just so I could feel your lips, so you could look at me like that. Now I’ll just go and-”

Megumi smashes his lips on yours then, a desperate, messy kiss, so full of passion it’s more than you’ve felt, even with him. You cling to his soft shirt desperately, yanking it up, pressing a hand up his bare abdomen, further up to his chest, hot skin hiding his beating heart. You pull back, shaking your head, and he moans softly, kissing you even deeper.

You can barely breathe when he’s turning you, unzipping your dress, you feel it falling down your body, landing on your hips, and he’s kissing along your shoulders, your neck, your back. You’re arching back into his touch, unwillingly, because it feels so, so good, your body igniting for him now.

“Megumi, stop. Don’t fuck with my mind. I can’t turn you down.” You say desperately, and he turns you back around, leaning over you, his pretty face illuminated by that soft moonlight flowing in your blinds.

“You love me?” He whispers, and you nod, looking down, for him to tilt your chin up, forcing you to stare into his gaze, which is swirling with emotions now. “Say it again, then.”

“Is this a game-”

“Say it again.”

“Fuck. I love you. Okay!? Now go and-”

“I love you too.” You blink in shock, mouth open wide, and you shake your head in disbelief. “Oh, I don’t?”

“No, you can’t! You’re Megumi, and we’re friends, and you said just friends-”

“I’m a fucking idiot. Okay?” You are near ready to pinch yourself, you must be in some dream. “It’s the only time you’ll hear that.” He smirks a bit, and you can’t return it, you’re still in too much shock.

“You can’t be in love with me.”

“No? Why not?”

“Because I…”

“I am hopelessly in love. I knew it when I watched this beautiful face in pleasure, how your brows went together, how you bite this lip…” He pulls it gently from your teeth, as he brushes back your hair, and you’re a mess. Your heart feels like it will burst in your chest. “How you felt, how it felt when I kissed you? I’ve never felt anything like it, and I never will.”

“Oh, Megumi… you jerk!” You shove him, and he blinks in confusion himself. “You could have just told me then!”

“You could have too!” You sigh, burying your head against his chest, before leaning your head back, your hair falling down your back.

“I was scared, Gumi. I thought you wouldn’t love me back.” You’re sobbing now, and he blinks his own emotion, caressing you so carefully, his hand running up and down your back, setting shivers up your spine, desire hot in your tummy.

“How couldn’t I love you back? You’re perfect, Angel. I was afraid, too… I didn’t know if you just wanted experience? And then I got addicted to it, to your beauty, to how your moans sound, to your taste…” He’s slipping your dress all the way down, shimmying it off your hips, then he’s on his knees, looking up at you, kissing your legs. Your head falls back against the door, as he slips your heels off.

“I’m addicted to you, Megumi. Your touch, your kisses, your taste. Your cum inside me- ah!” He’s groaning now, standing and picking you up, just in your bra and panties now, wrapping your legs around his hips. You cling to him, as he presses you against that door now, sliding two fingers eagerly into your cunt.

“I’m so mad you kissed him.” He glares, and you gasp when his fingers curl inside your little entrance, pressing that spot he knows you can’t handle, the one that makes you soak his fingers, lewdly squishing in the night.

“I didn’t know… I didn’t- ah- want to! I only want you, stupid boy. I always have, fuck!” He’s pumping them in and out, as your panties are shoved over to the side, and he’s glaring at you now.

“You’re mine now. Mine. Okay?” You nod desperately, and he pulls out his fingers, making you whimper, feeling empty. “Say it.”

“Yours, Megumi, I’m yours.” He kisses you so deeply again, then he’s setting you back down, slipping off your panties. “Gumi, what if they come home?”

“Why don’t you worry about cumming for me? On my face, my pretty little angel.” He says softly, back on his knees, yanking one of your legs over his shoulder, and you scream out, arching back, as his tongue slides up your slit, and you’re a fucking mess over him, twitching when it hits your clit.

“Gumi…” You whine his name over and over, as he parts the lips of your sex, where you’re dripping arousal out, and he moans, looking up with those gorgeous, lazy eyes of his.

“You’re the only one that calls me that silly name, you know.” He says with a laugh, that tickles you, and you giggle, as you’re clutching to his spiky black hair, soft under your touch.

“You’re the one that calls me Angel. Where’d that come from? Oh! Mnh!” He’s back to licking you, as he opens your glistening folds, tongue darting around your entrance, and it feels so damn good you’re soaking his face, throbbing around nothing, panting at how good it feels.

“Mmm, you’re so yummy.” He licks his glossy lips, sliding a finger into you again, and you’re so wet, so wet for him that it’s like your body is begging for more, for his mouth, for his touch, for his words. “Because you are an angel.” 

“Gumi… fuck…”

You whimper then, as you look down at him, his eyes are focused on you, and your knees are shaking, thighs quivering as he tastes you, devouring every inch of your sex. Your eyes begin rolling back as he flattens his tongue and presses it against your clit, swirling it around, making you cry out in pleasure, your hands tightening in his hair, pulling, earning his groan that vibrates your clit.

Megumi’s eyes are dark, so dark, full of lust and passion as he looks up at you, worshiping your body, his finger and tongue working in perfect sync, as he’s eating you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever get to do, desperately moaning against you. You can feel your orgasm building, your stomach tightening, your chest heaving with every breath you take.

“Gonna cum, mnh… Gumi!” You gasp, and he smiles, looking up at you with that mischievous little half grin that you know so well, the one that makes you want to kiss him so badly.

“Cum for me, then, let me drink you Angel.” Fuck and when he calls you that, and he adds another finger, curling them both up inside you, stroking that perfect spot that makes you see stars? You come so hard that your knees almost buckle. He holds you up, drinking you in, drinking you all up as you pour down his face.

“Oh my god, oh my god, mnh! F-fuck…” You’re so weak, when he stands up, slamming his lips on yours, picking you back up, carrying you over to the couch now, laying you down on your back, as you taste your honeyed arousal on his full lips, as his hands run down your body, until he’s unclasping your bra, moaning softly when your breasts bounce out.

“Beautiful, Angel. These are all for me, aren’t they?” He murmurs, still fully dressed as he tosses your bra, cupping your breasts, and you nod quickly, back arching as his thumbs brush your nipples, making the peaks tighten, aching for more, and your body is so sensitive you can’t focus, vision blurring.

“Need you, please.” You beg now, you don’t care that you’re begging, you need him inside you, you need him naked. You’re pulling up on his shirt, and he’s sliding it over his head, revealing that hard, chiseled frame that just makes you throb more with endless need. “You’re so perfect, Megumi.”

“Me? That’s you, Angel. Look at you.” He whispers, letting you unzip him, feeling his hard cock, hot in your palm as you stoke, watching his eyes roll back, before he’s spreading your thighs, kicking the rest of his pants and boxers off. “Perfect face, perfect body, perfect pussy.” He thrusts his cock in then, burying it to the hilt, and you scream out into the quiet apartment, as he groans.

“S’big, you’re s’perfect. You, Gumi.” You’re nonsensical as he lifts a thigh high, over his shoulder now, kissing your ankle before he rolls his hips, slamming against your bruised cervix. You scream out, as he pulls back and you’re now soaked, his cock dripping precum and your wetness down the couch.

“Look how wet you are, Angel. All for me too.” He says then, shoving back in, and you’re so full you can’t take it, gripping his narrow hips, nails digging into his skin and making him suck in a breath.

“Fuck me, please, fuck me.” He smiles just a bit, eyes lidded as he leans down now, cupping your chin in his hand.

“You’re demanding, y’know that? You weren’t a good girl.” He pouts mockingly as you whimper, as he doesn’t even move. When you try to wriggle he pins your hips down. “Ah-ah.”

“Megumi, but I love you. I love you M’so sorry..” You whine, as he’s got his weight on you, and you watch his lips part, as his eyes swirl, color on his cheeks now.

“Promise, only me. Only me.” He says then, possessive and dark, but fuck you love it, you crave this.

“Only you, it’s only ever been you, didn’t you know?” You say softly, and he lets out a little sound from the back of his throat, slamming his lips down, as he’s stretching your leg beyond its limits, your thigh against your breasts.

“It’s only you for me, too, Angel. F-forgive me… for being…”

“Stupid?”

“Fuck off.” You both giggle, but you sigh, brushing his hair off his brow, your other hand on his chest, where his heart beats.

“I forgive you. And I’m sorry. Now please… fuck me?”

“Demanding brat.” You laugh softly, then he’s leaned up, hand on the back of your thigh bruising, as he starts fucking his long, thick cock into your eager little cunt, and you’re falling apart under him, as he’s stretching you so damn good. “Only mine, only me ever inside you.”

“Only you.” You repeat, urging him on, fucking you harder, your walls fluttering around his thickness, his cock dragging along your walls with that pink tip, pressing against that spot that makes you blind. You scream out your orgasm, digging your nails into his back, as he wrecks you, as he wrecks your mind, your cunt, your body. “Was only… ever you.”

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He says then, hand around your throat, and you nod in response, letting him squeeze the sides of it as he pounds your pussy so perfectly, as he lets your thigh slide down, bracing over you as he fucks you into this couch. “So beautiful.”

You can barely squeak out your response, as his hands tighten on your throat, and his thrusts hit even harder, so deep you’re close again. You would say ‘cumming’ but you are shattering, cumming so hard it’s blinding, you feel like you’re floating now, in some other wavelength as your love works over you, as he dominates you, physically and emotionally.

Megumi’s breaths are hitching in his throat, and you know he’s holding back, trying to make this last. But you can’t wait anymore. You need him to fill you up, to claim you in every way possible. Your hips are rising to meet his, and he lets out a low growl, his grip on your throat tightening.

“Cum for me, again Angel. I need to feel you cumming around me.” Your orgasm washes over you again as if on fucking command, your pussy clenching around him, your body shaking with the force of it. Megumi finally releases your throat, picking you up, and you’re so damn dizzy you cling to him. He’s got you straddling his lap now, shoving his cock back inside again.

“Oh my- too much- I-  Megumi!” He’s watching you, as your breasts bounce as he holds your hips up, fucking up into you. Your head falls back, your hair cascading back, and he’s sucking a peak into his hot mouth. “Ngh!”

You’re trembling as you bounce up and down, as he holds you up, then slams you down his length, gripping one breast as he sucks the other peak. It all feels so good you’re pulsing again, this time with so much pressure, it’s so wet you’re slippery. So wet he slips out when you’re raising your hips, then he’s just grinding on your slit, on your clit, and you’re cumming from the friction.

“Oh my… You’re so good for me.” His words shatter any reality you have left, and you’re crying now, as your foreheads fall together, as he’s running his hands up your back, as he’s touching you everywhere, as you’re cumming down his length.

His thighs are sticky from how much you’re cumming, you hear it loud in the room, when he’s back inside, when you’re filled so goddamn much. You kiss sloppy, messy, your tongues dripping with saliva, a string between your lips as you gasp for a breath. He’s got his hands on your waist now, as he bites on your lips, as he kisses down your face.

“How… did you… not know? I loved you.” He says then, and your eyes lock, as you struggle to form a damn word.

“H-how can… you?”

“How can I? You’re fucking perfect, you’ve always been my Angel.” You can’t stop the tears, which mingle as you both kiss through them, as you can’t move any more, you’re just grinding on him, his tip pressed in so deep you feel him everywhere. You feel him in your tummy, in your throat, fuck in your mind, in your heart, in your soul, it’s all him.

“All you. S’all you now. Gumi. Love.” You’re muttering hushed words, broken and disjointed, and Megumi’s own eyes have two pretty tears, glittering on his long lashes, as he’s bucking up those hips, pushing you closer to the edge of sanity.

“All you. All you, Angel.” He whispers back, then you’re cumming once more, so oversensitive and sore you can’t take it. “I’m cumming inside you, filling you up, got me Angel?” His voice is husky, you nod, gripping his shoulders desperately as your body is trembling with your pleasure.

“Fill me up. Please, w-want your cum in me.” He moans, and then Megumi follows you over the edge, his cock pulsing inside you, filling you with his hot ropes of cum, coating every bit of you. You’re both gasping, moaning, clinging to each other so desperately, kissing over and over and over.

You collapse against him, and he holds you so tightly, as he sinks back into the couch, both of you panting, trying to catch your breath. You can feel him still inside you, still hard and thick, and you are shaking violently as you finally pull back, and he’s caressing your cheek with those damn piano fingers, studying you in the dark.

Isn’t that how you first kissed?

In the dark.

“Say it again.” He says, so vulnerable then, and you smile tremulously, your fingers brushing against his scalp gently, making his eyes flutter shut in pleasure.

“I love you, Megumi Fushiguro. I’m hopelessly in love.” He drags your lips back to his now, kissing you softer, sweeter, melting your heart as you’re still sweaty messes against each other.

“I love you, so much. I was so fucking jealous today.” He admits gruffly, and you are crying in earnest, there’s no helping it, so full of emotions.

“I was so jealous that night. I was wishing you would look at me, like you do your dates.”

“Oh, Angel, I’ve never looked at anyone like this. Ever.” He’s swiping your tears, exhaling, blowing his sweet breath against your overheated skin. “I never will look at anyone else, how can I?”

“I never will, I never did. I’d just compare them. To your stupid, snarky little smirk.” He glares now, making you giggle through emotions. “Your tired expression, looking like you’re so bored.”

“Well I’m never bored with you, you little brat.” You squeak then, as he tickles you a bit, then you wince as he pulls out of you slowly, and you feel a sense of loss, a void that you never want to feel again.

“Mmm, stay in forever.” You mumble, making him chuckle. He stands up with you, and you cling to him tightly. “Where are we going?” You ask, your voice still breathless.

“To do something I’ve been dying to do.” You’re curious what it is, before carrying you again to his room, laying you on his bed.

“I’m sore, can’t fuck again.” You say, and he just chuckles a bit, shaking his head.

“Not that, hang on a minute.” He’s gently cleaning you up in a moment, bringing you a set of your pajamas now, and he’s sliding on his pajama pants, looking at you with a quirked brow.

“You want me in pjs? I’m confused.” You put them on, standing up, but he shoves you back down, pulling up his blankets, and putting them over you, pulling you against him. You realize quickly what he means, snuggling against him, feeling his warmth enwrap you.

“Been dying to just hold you.” You’re crying tears against his neck, and he’s rubbing your back soothingly, kissing your head gently.

“Oh, me too, Gumi. I wanted so badly to sleep in your arms.” You whisper, as he caresses you, holding you snug to him. “I’ve never felt anything better than this.”

“You fit so perfectly in my arms.” His words choke you up again.

“I’m a mess.” He chuckles just a bit, leaning back, rubbing your sticky cheeks and staring at you lovingly. That’s the look. Loving.

Megumi loves you.

“You’re beautiful, Angel.” You’re kissing him again and again, hands pulling him as close as he can be.

“I love you. I love you, Gumi.” You murmur against his lips.

“I love you, Angel. Good night.”

“Knew it!” You blink in the bright lights of Megumi’s room, as you wake up, drool down the side of your face, and Nobara and Yuji are pointing at you both, laughing at you both.

“Ugh, get out, fuck.” Megumi grimaces, covering his face and then pulling you to him, burying his face.

“Knew it when I saw that ugly sweater!” Nobara says, and Megumi just scoffs, tickling your neck. You snuggle closer to him, blinking and rubbing your eyes.

“You all are dating, aren’t you?” Yuji demands, hands on his hips, and you both lean up then, Megumi sitting, the blanket falling down his chest, and you’re leaning on one elbow, looking up to him.

“Are we dating, Megumi?” You tease, with a grin, and he sighs, bending down and kissing your forehead.

“Yes, Angel, we’re dating.”

“Called it! Owe me a hundred bucks.” Nobara holds out her hand, and Yuji rolls his eyes, as you stare at them both.

“You made bets?” You demand, and they smile, no shame.

“Sure did, pay up.”

“I don’t have it right now!” Yuji whines.

“Get out you two, god.” Megumi throws the blankets back over you both now, kissing down your neck, making you squeak, and he’s smiling against your skin. “Before you get a show.”

“Oh, you’re freaky, Megumi!” Yuji teases, and Yuji and Nobara are shuffling out, and Megumi is under those blankets completely, his hair a mess, a sleepy smile on his pretty face as he hovers over you. Your breath catches, your hands sliding up his bare waist, nails pressing just slightly.

“Can I have your room, then, for my wardrobe, Angel?” Nobara says.

“Out!” You both shout again, and finally they shut the door, leaving you giggling under him, as he’s smiling so sweetly down at you, his pretty dark green eyes lighting up.

He kisses you deeply now, and you feel him, hard and ready against your thigh, you whine out when he slides your shorts to the side, rubbing two fingers up and down your slick heat. You’re whimpering at how good it feels, as he finds your swollen clit with his thumb.

Megumi is watching you as your eyelashes flutter, as your mouth goes into this perfect little O. Fuck you’re perfect, and you’re his, all his. As he watches you tremble under him, as he feels your heat, as he looks at your pretty little face, a thought fills him, not just of spending every night, but filling you every night. He presses against your tummy and smirks.

He can’t wait to have you full of him, can’t wait to breed your perfect pussy, but he’ll give it some time before he lets you know that. You’re his, only his, now, in his arms, as he licks your sweetness off his fingers, Megumi can wait. He has forever with you.

“You snore by the way.” He teases, and you giggle.

“Hey, do not!” He laughs, genuinely, his bright white teeth glowing, his face lighting up, and you look at him, at your forever.

“Let her have the room. You’re not leaving me.” He says, all husky, and you just nod, as he slides two long fingers in, and you feel that pressure building.

“She can have it. Not leaving. Fuck! Please, please.” You’re reaching down, stroking his hard cock, drinking in his moans.

“Forever, Angel, yeah?” He murmurs softly, as he’s sliding the tip of his cock against you, and you arch up for more, under these blankets, clinging to his hard body, imagining your lives together, and fuck you’re so damn happy.

“Forever, Gumi. You’ve always been forever.” You whisper, then gasp as he slides inside you, stretching you so fucking good, inch by inch until he’s so deep, as you both smile against each other’s lips, as your hands cling to each other, entwining above your head.

Forever, with your best friend (Oh my goodness, he's now your boyfriend) Megumi.

The End

Hope you all enjoyed this cute little story of these clueless cuties, I think I see another Megumi fic in my future hehe, see you in the next ones. <3 (Yes I lowkey gave him a breed kink at the end, hush)

Masterlist of all my fics

[kiribakuswife]

In Need of a Hero

Kirishima x Reader

Kinktober day 2

You have become the stereotype. It was honestly a mistake, your heat wasn’t supposed to start for a few days, and you were on the way to get suppressants, honestly. Work had been insane lately and by the time you got off the drug store near you was closed. You had decided the best thing to do was make the long trek across town to the 24 hour store. The last thing you expected, let alone happen, was getting hit hard with your heat in the middle of your walk home.

Your skin instantly felt hot, your brain beginning to fog over. You only had 20 minutes left, picking up your speed as your breathing began to grow more labored. You would make it home if it killed you. Thankfully, the streets were fairly empty, the moon high in the sky as the last of the last remaining drunken bar patrons stumbled home. You ripped open the bag as you walked, popping one of the pills that wouldn’t do anything at least until tomorrow afternoon, pulling your hood up and tucking in as an attempt to block the scent you were sure you were giving off at this moment. 15 more minutes that was all you needed and you would be safe in your own bed.

Your head was too hazy though, unable to smell the towering alpha that stumbled out of the alley before you. He stunk, his scent a terrible mix of musk and whiskey that made your nose curl as your omega shrank back in fear.

“Has no one ever told you not to walk alone?” He snarled, stepping before you, blocking your path.

“Excuse me.” Your voice was pathetic, and as soon as you heard it you couldn’t blame his laugh that cut through the silent night.

“Oh you're not going anywhere!” He laughed, roughly grabbing your arm and beginning to drag you back to the dark alleyway. “I could smell you a mile away, little omega. Let me show you what a real alpha can do.” He spoke in your ear, sending chills down your spine as you tried to pull away.

“Let me go!” You tried to scream, but he just kept dragging your fighting form. For how tall he was, he was thankfully pretty scrawny, allowing you to put up at least a little bit of a fight, but he seemed determined, unwilling to release you.

“(y/n)?” You heard a familiar voice call out, sounding distant, but not too far. Your eyes widened in realization. You had met only a few times, he was friends with one of your friend’s boyfriend. Definitely not close by any means, but he was a Pro.

“Kiri-!” Your shout was cut off by the hand of the disgusting man covering your mouth. You bit down on his hand hard, the taste of dirt and blood and something else you filling your mouth.

“You bitch!” He yelled back, elbowing you hard in the chest as he jerked his hand away. “You’ll pay for that!” As you tried to spit the foul taste from your mouth he grabbed you rougher this time, pinning your arms to your side.

“Hey!” You heard another voice shout, head spinning to find the pro hero Red Riot in all his glory, running towards you both. “Release her at once!” He wasn’t in his hero costume, instead in a casual pair of sweats and a tight black t-shirt, dropping a bag of take out as he got closer. His smell hit you at once making your knees weak as much as that was so unhelpful in your current situation. The strong smell of pine and a hit of rain filled your lungs as he reached you. The man released you instantly, hands up as you fell to the ground.

“Hey man, I didn’t mean anything by it, really! You can smell her! I was just trying to help.” He rambled, his footsteps stumbling as the hero stepped closer around you.

“Bullshit man, not cool.” Was all he said before a thud could be heard, turning to see the man fall to the ground as Kirishima made his way back to you, dragging the man behind him. “Are you okay?” He looked like he barely broke a sweat while the other man had a trickle of blood beginning to appear on his head.

“I think so.” You squeaked, looking up at him. His red hair that was usually styled was instead down, a few loose strands falling in his face as he tilted his head at you, trying to read you. You could tell the moment he caught your scent, his nose scrunching up briefly as he took a deep breath and shook his head. You had thought he was cute before all this, avoiding him out of nerves at your friends' dinner parties, but now? Your mind flashed truly embarrassing thoughts of him as you avoided his gaze. If you were feeling warm before, you were absolutely burning now.

“Let me call someone to get this loser. I’ll walk you home.” He nodded to himself, dragging the still limp man over to a wall of the building, already on the phone as he explained the situation to someone. He continued to talk as he walked, grabbing his food and your own bag. You couldn’t look away from him, no matter how much watching his taut form was making you squirm with need.

“Are you sure you’re alright? Nothing hurts?” His voice broke you fr

om your trance as he approached, causing your cheeks to heat. Hopefully it was dark enough that he wouldn’t see, the street light right above you dashing your hopes. At his question though, the adrenaline wearing off, your chest began to hurt where his elbow had caught you.

“My chest…” You mumbled, trying to look anywhere but him, pulling your hoodie tight around you.

“Do you want to check? How bad?” He asked, coming closer, causing you to gasp as his scent hit you full force again. You must have reeked with the scent of your heat by now, but he acted as if there was nothing wrong.

“No! I’m okay!” You basically shouted, putting out a hand as if you could block him from any closer. He only chuckled lightly, shaking his head as he sat before you.

“Todoroki should be here soon then we can go.” He said instead, “Mind if I eat? I’m starving.” He laughed with a huge hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

“Of course.” You whispered, meeting his eyes before quickly looking away. Maybe it was part of their hero training, to have some sort of immunity against the smell, looking unbothered as he dug into his sandwich.

“Thank you…” You mumbled as he ate, earning a smile and a thumbs up in response.

“All in a day's work!” He replied. The air felt heavy as he ate, but it was like he didn’t notice anything, only making you squirm more, chewing on your thumb as you waited. Like he had said, Todoroki arrived soon, Kirishima getting up to meet him halfway as he moved toward you. They spoke quietly as they approached the still unconscious man. You waved halfhearted to Todoroki as he looked at you, heaving the villain on his shoulder. His eyes flashed briefly as they met yours, no doubt catching your scent before he turned abruptly, hurrying away.

“Ready?” Kirishima asked, turning back towards you with a smile on his face, like this was the most normal night he had all week. You nodded meekly as you tried to stand, but you legs betrayed you, still far too shakey. Before you hit the ground though, his hand gripped your arm to steady you, right where the villan had held you, causing a confusing mix of a moan and a groan to escape you, your omega beyond pleased to finally have his hands on you.

At your sound his hand jerked away, closing his eyes tight for a moment, as if he stopped breathing before letting out a sigh, moving to grip your elbow instead. “Let’s get you home.” Was all he said, letting you lead the way.

The silence felt thick as you walked, and you couldn’t help but glance in his direction every few minutes. His jaw was tight, but besides that he looked so normal, so natural. It made that stupid voice inside your head preen. He had to the most respectful man in the world to completely ignore at this moment, and that just made you want him more, need him more.

“Kirishima?” You asked finally, earning a hmm in response. “Thank you really, I’m sure this must suck for you too.” You tried to make a joke, an uncomfortable too forceful laugh bubbling up.

“Eijiro, you can call me that I mean,” He said, joining in on your weird laughter. “I think we’ve crossed that line.”

“Eijiro then, thank you.” Your laughter was becoming more real as you gave into the absurdity of the situation. He hmmed in response as you scrambled to explain yourself “Really I didn’t plan this! I know some omegas do to…well you know, but these are my suppressants!” You held up the bag as proof and he just rolled his eyes playfully.

“It’s fine (y/n). I’m happy to help!” That made you shiver. You were close to home now, and the thought of him leaving was making you feel incredibly anxious, like something bad would happen if he wasn’t with you. Maybe you could ask him to stay? Just until you were asleep? He could sit in the living room and you could retire to your room and by the time the heat between your legs became so unbearable it woke you up, he’d be gone. He had saved your life, if he was going to hurt you he would have by now right? It seemed reasonable to you now, but would you feel the same when your head was screwed back on correctly. You liked Eijiro, and you were kicking yourself for avoiding him before. He was so much nicer than you had thought, and maybe you really wanted to see if being interested in him would actually go anywhere. Would asking him inside ruin it all though?

As you reached your street your heart rate started to pick up, vision beginning to narrow, your omega beginning to panic. You were thankful for his warm hand on your arm, feeling almost dizzy from the contending lust and panic.

“(y/n)? Are you okay? Is it your chest? Breath honey it’s alright.” He suddenly stopped, forcing you to look at him. Your chest was rising rapidly as you shook your head at his question. “What is it then?” He raised an eyebrow, growing more concerned as you tried to steady your breathing.

“Eijiro, please…” It was basically a whine and you didn’t even have the wherewithal to feel embarrassed. He stiffened instantly, eyes growing a shade darker before they slammed shut, holding his breath again. “Please come inside, please stay with me until I fall asleep? Please?” You were begging at this point, and you know it with virtually no shame, gripping his large hand in both of your own. “Eijiro?”

He groaned heavily, using his free hand to wipe his face. A glance down showed you he wasn’t entirely immune to your antics, a prominent bulge appearing in his sweats, and you almost wish you hadn’t looked with the way your core throbbed. You were already wet before, but at this rate you were going to leak through your thin leggings. As your scent hit him again he let out another groan before almost an entire 180, relaxing his shoulders and lacing his fingers with your own.

“Of course (y/n)! What kind of hero would I be if I left a lady in distress?” He cleared his throat, swallowing thickly as he smiled brightly, but his eyes hid something in them. Something you died to unlock, shame be damned. As you made your way to the door, fumbling with your keys your eyes met his, catching the light dusty of pink on his cheeks and the heavy look in his eyes. Your eyes were caught in his, sharing a silent word until he cleared his throat again.

“Let’s get you to bed, ‘mega.” His voice was low, a clear order from his alpha that made you jerk away, unlocking your door and stumbling inside, abandoning your shoes and jacket by the door as you moved towards the living room, him following along, locking the door behind. The air felt stifling, the heat wasn’t even on, but you felt like you were in a furnace. His scent fluffed around your tiny apartment as you gestured to the couch.

“I think I need a shower.” You laughed, uncomfortable but anything but afraid. “The remotes on the table.”

“Just shout if you need anything.” He flopped down onto the couch, smiling up at you. Your mind ran as you made your way back to the bathroom. You had actually invited him and he actually agreed? You felt so conflicted, one part of you wanting to drag him under the warm water with you as it started to fill the bathroom with steam and the other part of you wanting to send him right back outside, blaming your heat for your lack of a filter. It wasn’t just your heat though, and you knew that. You would want him here regardless, you just weren’t bold enough to actually tell him that. As you stepped under the water your mind filled with scenarios of how he could help you in more ways than just guarding your door.

The large red mark on your chest would surly bruise, tender to the touch between your breasts as you scrubbed the skin, trying to remove any bit of the disgusting scent that seemed to cling to you no matter how hard you tried to scrub it off, your omega almost frantic to remove it as you gave up, stepping out of the shower and pulling on your robe. You could always ask Eijiro to scent you, but that felt like too far after dragging him into your house.

Deciding against it, you let out a whine before opening the door, jumping back as you almost ran into a broad chest.

“You smelled upset I’m sorry I-I had to make sure you were…okay” He seemed to have a hard time finding words, eyes completely shifted to the alpha yellow as he looked down at you, gaze searching for any sign of danger. It was now or never you guessed.

“The smell…” You pouted up at him. “I smell like him, could you um?” Before a silence could fill the air his hands shot out gripping your hips tightly before dragging his scent glands over your wet hair, slowly moving down as he scented your neck, your back ramrod straight as you let out a breathy gasp. His lips grazed over your own scent gland, causing you to shiver in his arms as he moved further down still. Your robe had fallen open, not yet exposing your breasts, but the space between them, red and starting to bruise open to the air. He growled low, lightly rubbing his cheek over the spot before placing a chaste kiss over it. That made your knees collapse, and if it wasn’t for his grip you would be a puddle on the floor.

“Sorry ‘mega.” His voice was gruff as he pulled away, causing you to whine as he looked down on you, “I couldn’t help myself. Let’s actually get you to bed.” Your mind was cloudy, feeling like you were floating as he guided you down the hall and to your room. He stood at your door as you made your way inside, allowing your robe to drop off as your mind became laser focused on reaching your nest, momentarily forgetting he was there entirely.

He was sure any other alpha would have ripped into your room instantly at the sight, but he had to control himself. You had already been traumatized once tonight and the last thing you needed was a burly alpha like himself ruining your safe space as you flopped into your nest, rearranging the blankets and pillows that filled it with a huff, brows furrowed. You only seemed to get more agitated as you worked, head finally snapping back to him with a huff.

“Alpha needa smell like you.” Your voice almost slurred as you spoke, almost snapping his fraying resolve. He knew he should have stayed in the living room, but the sour switch of your fruity scent had almost made him feral, and he just couldn’t leave you. Couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you pouted to him. “Want you.” You mumbled to him and he was done. String snapping he made his way through your room to your nest,hesitating at the edge before you grabbed his arm with surprising strength, pulling his willing body in with you. Your body instantly molded to his, despite your heated skin his warmth feeling amazing as you scented him.

“Alpha please.” You didn’t even know what you needed as you begged for something, anything as he stayed stiff, arms at his side as you burrowed against his chest.

“Shh, you’re okay.” He said, finally wrapping his arms around you as he maneuvered you, laying with his back against the plush fortress. “You should sleep ‘mega.” That nickname made your skin tingle like it was on fire. You whined again at him as you pulled up, locking eyes with him. He looked at home in here and you had half a mind to never let him leave your nest again.

“Needa knot first.” The words fell from your mouth before you could stop them, that being even too far for your current state, instantly breaking eye contact as you pulled further away, looking away as his hand came up to cover his eyes, breaths ragged as he took in your words.

“(y/n)...I need to know if you mean that. If you really want me, or if it’s just your heat.” It wasn’t just your heat. You had fantasized about this before, you had thought of him more times than you would like to admit and not just in this way.

“Only want you, Eijiro, only ever you alpha.” You babbled in response, hoping that he believed you. There must have been something in your face, because as he lifted his hand from his eyes and stared at you for a moment he finally nodded his head.

“Alright ‘mega,” His voice had changed ever so slightly, the commanding alpha tone back, “You’ll tell me if anything is too far. If anything hurts. Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you. Are you on birth control?” You instantly defeated at his words, the stress leaving your shoulders as you fell to him.

“Yes alpha, I am and I will!” You said back eagerly. “I want you.” He laughed lightly at you, shaking his head as he sat up, catching your mouth in a kiss that soon morphed into something less than innocent, tongues tangling as he eased you onto your back. His hands gripped your hips pulling you closer as one hand began drifting towards your center.

“Jesus ‘mega, you’re soaked.” He pulled away speaking against your lips as you mewled.

“Need your knot.” You said as a response. He shook his head lightly.

“Need to make sure you can take it pretty girl.” He said, a finger slipping in easily, soon adding a second, pumping in a way that made your spine curl. You moaned as his lips connected to your chest, tongue encircling the bud of your peaked nipple causing you to cry out as he began to scissor his fingers. You could feel yourself getting close, already so close to the edge before he even touched you.

“Cum and I’ll give you my knot ‘mega. Need you ready for this dick.” His words seemed to melt into your skin, lighting you up inside, sending you hurtling over the edge as his fingers reached a specific spot inside you as your toes curled, crying out his name as you did just that.

“Good girl, such a good ‘mega.” He praised you as he continued to move his fingers allowing you to ride out your orgasm as you groaned at his words. “How do you want this pretty girl, it’s up to you this time.” His words of “this time” swirled through your head as you tried to answer him through your moans, eventually reaching down to grab his wrist, stopping his movement for long enough to catch your breath.

“Want to see you.” You huffed out, hoping he understood what you meant, and to your glee he seemed to be on the same page. He pulled out his hand slowly, your pussy clenching around nothing as he pulled your legs up, allowing them to rest on his shoulders. You weren’t sure when he took off his shirt but were beyond happy with the view it granted you, his huge muscular chest making you clench weakly.

“Look at me.” He commanded roughly, causing your eyes to snap to his as he shimmied down his pants, allowing the leaking head of his cock to trace over you. “You will tell me if it’s too much; tell me to stop and I will, one word and it’s over okay?” His words made you want to fold in on yourself, allow him to take whatever he wanted, but his eyes were different. They almost looked nervous like he was worried for you and holding himself back. He looked like he truly cared, almost like-

“I will, Eijiro.” It was like a piece of your mind had finally come back to you, and at your words he nodded, allowing his cock to slide in, inch by inch. Despite stretching you earlier, there was still a delicious burn as he sunk in bit by bit. If he didn’t want you after this, you didn’t know what you would do, never feeling so full before, his knot not even fully inflated at this point.

“You okay?” His voice was gruff, like he was holding himself back as he looked down at you intently, trying to read your face.

“Please, alpha fill me please please please.” You begged under him, trying to wiggle your hips as he let out a groan, hands moving to grip the back of your thighs, bending them to your chest.

“Anything for you, ‘mega.” Before you could even process his words, he snapped his hips, causing you to cry out as your head fell back, at his complete mercy as he began to fuck you hard into your carefully crafted fortess. It was like your brain was disconnected, short circuited as his hips pistoned into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room, drowned out by your near sceam- moaning.

“You’re mine now ‘mega. No one else will ever lay a finger on you or I’ll break their fucking arm.” He grunted out, pushing your legs higher as you cried below him, babbling nonsense as you tried to connect back to your brain, clenching tight at his words.

“All yours alpha.” You moaned out. You were embarrassingly close again. If he meant what he said though, you would at least have a day or two more of this as he helped you through your heat.

“Gonna fill you up so much no one will even smell your heat on you. All they’ll be able to smell is me. They’ll know who this cunt belongs to.” His words were filthy as he spoke to you. “Are you gonna cum again? All over my knot ‘mega?” You could only moan at his words, knowing he was right. “You know I’ve wanted this for months, every time I saw you I wanted to drag you away and show you who you should belong to…show you why you should choose me.” Your vision was beginning to grow hazy, seconds away from crashing over the edge. “You know what? It wasn’t even your tight pussy or your ass that I couldn’t get out of my mind.” His words made you pause, gasping as his eyes meant yours. “It’s those fucking eyes, I couldn’t get them out of my head.” He said with a particularly sharp thrust as your head fell back again. “Look at me as you cum.” As soon as your eyes met his you fell, the tight cord inside of you snapping as you gushed around him, a few more thrust before he too was cumming, hot seed filling you as his knot locked you together, feeling almost uncomfortably full as he let your legs fall back down, resting his head on your collar bone as you both tried to catch your breath.

He soon raised his head, puppeting you to a more comfortable position as you waited for his knot to deflate, already half asleep as you snuggled up to him. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“I mean it, you know.” He said, your turn to hum in response. “I want to take you out ‘mega. I’ll prove to you, I’m worthy of you.”

“You are worthy, Eijiro.” You mumbled out, kissing his arm as you snuggled impossibly closer. “Sleep alpha.”

“Sleep ‘mega.” He agreed with a laugh as you faded into the most restful sleep you’ve had in a long time.

[magdalence]

A MYTH OF DEVOTION CHAPTER TWO.

SEE MASTERLIST FOR TAGS + NOTES

pairing: sylus/mc | reader

rating: explicit (18+)

chapter word count: 6,689 words

“A complete and full resonance link comes at a steep price. Are you willing to pay it? Do you understand how much it will demand of you? How close you will have to get to me? I see how you look at me like I’m a nightmarish monster.” Sylus smirks, leaning in close enough that you can smell his perfume. Leather, metal, and gunpowder. At least, you think some of it is perfume and not just your attempt at his life.

You agree to try your best to resonate fully with Sylus. He agrees to let you go when you do. Both of you get more than you bargained for.

There’s a splinter of light in the distance, but not enough. Shadows crowd in around you, cradling you close.

As you blink to try and clear the fog out of your senses, Sylus crowds not only your line of sight, but all your senses: the scent, the touch of skin as he runs his knuckles along your cheekbones, the sound of a distantly familiar tune hummed.

The light is fading.

There is an otherness to him, an eldritch longing in his eyes, a feeling you don’t know what to do with. It’s so naked and vulnerable that it frightens you; it’s a weight lacing itself into your throat, burrowing down into your ribs, constricting your breathing. His thumb runs across your lips, gentle, until you have to suck in a gasping breath, lips parting, the tip of your tongue touching the pad of his thumb.

“Good girl,” he hums, voice deep and hot.

You want him to touch you more, want him to reach down your throat and hold your heart.

You suck his thumb into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around it. His other hand rests at your throat, massing along the lines where his fingers bruised your skin as he choked you out, almost apologetic. It feels too good. It feels too real.

“Please…”

You don’t recognize your own voice as you cry around his thumb. You hardly even know what you are asking for, but you suspect you would take anything he gives you so long as his hands did not leave your being. He could mold you to his whims and as long as his hands stayed on your rearranged form, it would be enough.

The light goes out. Plunged into darkness, all you can feel is him surrounding you, his touch searing itself into your body. He is all around you and nowhere to be found all at once. Come closer, come closer, come closer… Follow me into the shadows when you’re willing…

With a start you wake up from the nightmarish dream, heart thudding loud in your throat – and a heavy arm curled around you.

“Slept well?” Sylus asks from close behind you. Too close. The more you come to, the more of his body you feel pressed against yours.

He is pressed up against you from behind, one arm around your waist, and with the vestige of the dream still lingering so clear and loud in your mind, you don’t exactly mind him there. You shake your head. Terrifying, how your body seeks to betray you from so little.

“What are you doing?” you ask, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and clearing your throat, your mouth just as wet as it was in the dream.

“You started pulling on my arm in the middle of the night, and then began whimpering and whining when I resisted. It was easier to give in to you and shut you up.”

You hold out your hands, noticing that the link that tied your right hand to his is gone. For the better, no doubt.

“You can let go of me.”

“Not yet,” he murmurs, his voice low and deep. For a split second you wonder if he can read your mind even like this, with no eye contact, if he somehow heard or worse, saw what your traitorous fantasies conjured up.

He holds your hipbone, pinning it down with a light force, and a pressing thought passes through your head, an image of him holding your hips down like that as he’s pushing into you from behind. Your mouth goes dry. It’s not entirely unpleasant but it is sorely not what you need for dealing with him.

What you need is an iced coffee so you can chew on some ice and clear your mind of him. And your mouth of the feeling of his thumb inside it.

“What do you want from me?” You wriggle your hips, trying to scoot off the bed, but he holds you still, dragging you back towards him.

You don’t let up that easily though, making a second attempt, and he grabs your chin and turns your head to look at him.

“Is it that hard to be still for one minute?” His brow furrows in frustration, eyes narrowed, the pressure of his thumb on your chin pulling your lower lip down and exposing your teeth.

A loud pecking sound on the window pane makes you jump, and Sylus’ evol lashes out towards the window, liquid shadow crackling with red bursts of light cracking the window open. Mephisto flies in, and Sylus removes his hand from you, allowing the peculiar crow to perch on his hand.

“The assassin has been taken care of,” Sylus says after hearing out the odd noises of the crow, its robotic wings clicking. “I would recommend you avoid the garden for an hour or two until the body has been properly disposed.”

It takes a moment for you to process what he just said.

“You were just keeping me in bed to stop me from –”

���Setting foot in the middle of a matter Luke and Kieran were dealing with? Perhaps. Would that be so horrid of me?” He smirks, stroking Mephisto’s head with one finger. “You run very warm. Perhaps I was simply enjoying that. Who’s to say.”

You get out of bed, adjusting the robe you slept in to make sure you are as covered as possible. The spot on your hip burns hot when you skim your fingers over it and you clear your throat, swallowing hard.

He eyes you up and down once, his expression opaque, before flicking his finger as Mephisto flies off.

“Breakfast will be served in an hour,” he says, flexing the wrist of his hand that was anchored to you. “Do try to keep yourself under control, I have important business to attend to today.”

You grumble. It’s too early to be smart with him, and he’s enjoying the advantage it gives him, the bastard. Crossing your arms you turn to leave, but a movement in the garden below catches your eye.

Underneath a large, twisted oak tree lies a crumpled body, the limbs set at awkward angles. Despite all the bodies you’ve seen in your life, it still turns your stomach cold. Worse, as you look up at the tree, at the tangle of gnarled branches, you realize it’s at the perfect height and angle for a sniper to take a shot right into Sylus’ bedroom.

“Were you using me as bait?” you ask slowly, not turning around to face him. Calculating the distance goes slow in your head, but you know a spot when you see one.

The mattress moves, Sylus sidling up behind you, his hands on your shoulders.

“You’ll spoil your appetite looking.”

“Answer me,” you demand, a shivering string of ice underscoring your words.

“They would never have succeeded,” he whispers, smugly. “No bullet in this place will ever come near you as long as you have my protection.” But he dodges the question, his breath tickling your neck as he leans in closer. “My return has drawn out vultures. Your presence has made them hungry.”

“I don’t want to die for you,” you say, stepping away from him. The cold air of the room prickles your skin. “I’m not a toy to dangle in front of your enemies.”

Your heart lurches in your throat, and you turn on your heel to escape from the dual-edged gaze of his, praying under your breath that the resonance link stays dormant, that nothing shackles you to him, not now.

You slam the bathroom door, locking it before leaning against the hard wood panel and sliding down onto the tiled floor, holding your head in your hands. Between the dream, and the fact that he pinned your hips down in bed while waiting for an assassin to die within his field of vision… Between the way you can still imagine the skin texture of his thumb against your tongue, and his hand on your hip, and the chills down your spine as a sniper lay dying below…

If you could put a name to the feeling bursting inside you, you’d be able to conquer the world.

-

The days pass, Sylus not allowing you far from his reach. ”In case the link activates again,” he claims, but it never does.

You do wonder what would happen if you were in different parts of the mansion when it did. Would the pain be so overwhelming you’d be unable to move? Would it be so vicious it could kill you? Whenever you think about slipping away from Sylus and exploring on your own, pick a locked door, turn his drawers inside out, that thought flares up and you petulantly stay near him, unhappy to be this stuck.

Every morning and night, he grasps your hand, intertwining your fingers, and attempts resonance. Every time, he is sorely disappointed at the results.

He’s not making this easy on you, but then again, you are not intending to make it easy on him. Each time he tries to resonate, his fingers locking with yours as he holds your hand to his chest, you summon up all the spite and loathing you nurture in your heart for him: he doesn’t let you know anything of value, he watches you too closely, he smiles at you when he thinks you’re not looking. He used you for bait. He holds something against you. He’s a liar, a bastard, a cheat, a monster. Every petty annoyance, every tiny complaint, you blow them up until you can feel the resonance link withering.

And then immediately after, seeing his crestfallen face for a moment before he lets go of you and turns away, you feel a sting of guilt. Yes, you are making this harder for yourself than it needs to be. You feel the looming dread of months, years, spent in this place, spiting and goading a man who could kill you with a snap of his fingers.

He snipes you and you snipe back. You watch each other like stalking cats, and then you wince at yourself, annoyed that his way of seeing you is filtering into your frames. He has a finger on your pulse and you can’t deny it. Can’t deny him. It’s irritating to have a man who can wrap you around his finger just through a long look over the rim of his reading glasses.

At least he lets you sleep in a room of your own. Even if it is directly across the hall from his. He plays his records late into the night, the gramophone sounds haunting you into your dreams, and then he dares laugh as if he’s won when he catches you humming the tunes at breakfast.

After a week, he starts taking you with him when he has to go out on what he calls business. You protest, but as he firmly guides you into the backseat of whatever car he has in mind for the day, you find yourself enjoying the ride, much to your chagrin. Getting out of the house and seeing more of the N109 zone helps build a map of the place in your mind, and you start connecting roads and neighborhoods, recognizing shops and neon signs.

He doesn’t talk much during these rides, hands on the wheel, eyes glued to the road.

“You don’t make for a very good tour guide,” you comment, and he only scoffs in reply.

The meetings he drives you to all go the same way: he locks you in the car and comes back after five minutes.

“You call me kitten yet me leave me like this,” you say with an exaggerated pout at him after five days of this routine. “We call that animal cruelty in Linkon City.”

“Is that so, kitten?” He leans over the seat, his face dangerously close to yours – and pops open the glove compartment. “There is water in here. Do I need to add some glittery toys? Some treats?”

“Take me out with you,” you say.

You’d hate to see what he does. It would turn your mixed and messy emotions on him into clear-cut dislike, and it’d keep you imprisoned with him in his dark home forever. In these moments, with his face this close to yours, you think it’d be a boon to be able to hate him fully and completely and never be able to resonate with him. Spite, you tell yourself, almost convincing your fractured reasoning.

“You aren’t leash-trained enough. Some other time.” But he moves his hand, brushing against yours – and lowers the window just a crack, barely enough to fit three fingers. “Is that air fresh enough? I will only be gone a few minutes.”

“Five minutes,” you correct him. “I keep count.”

“I’m happy to hear you miss me that much.”

You clench your fists as he leaves and locks the car, waiting until he’s out of sight before you pound the dashboard once, twice, and then let out a loud groan.

He is never going to let you come out on top like this.

Still, you try to peer out the tinted windows of his sports car to get a sense of what he is up to. You can guess – shady deals, power struggle between crime lords, him demanding his dues – and it touches upon that complex swirl of emotions tangling inside you. Your morals have been skewing since meeting him, and you can’t go back to Linkon like this. You need to get your head and heart right.

A door flies open in the building and man runs out of it, pursued by the slithering shadows of Sylus’. He spots the car and slams against the passenger side, yanking at the door. You recoil from the door, distantly glad that Sylus locked you in proper as he pulls and begs for mercy.

As Sylus comes out, checking his cuff links as if he is not clad in shadows that snap and swell with lashing darkness, you begin to understand the man’s fear. He looks as terrifying as the day you met him.

“There is nowhere to run from your negligent crimes,” Sylus says slowly, pressing his fingertips together. “Do try not to scratch the polish. It’s new.”

The man catches your gaze through the crack. “Save me,” he begs, eyes bulging in fear. “Let me in, Sylus, he’s crazy, he’s dangerous, I’ll get you somewhere safe, my family can protect you, please –”

Sylus grabs the man by the collar, pulling him off the car.

“Close your eyes, kitten.”

You don’t.

You watch as the shadows seep into the man, as his eyes roll into the back of his head and all his blood vessels burst at once. You watch as Sylus’ power makes him scream in agony, and then: a surge of darkness — and nothing.

Your hands tremble and you grab the hem of your skirt, pulling down so hard your knuckles go white.

Sylus, seemingly entirely unbothered by what he just did, unlocks the car and climbs in.

“You should have looked away,” he says flatly, reaching his hand out towards you. On pure shock and instinct, you recoil, and a shimmer of sorrow passes by on his face before he chastises his expression into neutrality again. He stays his head, pulling it back, and starting the car pulls out of the alley.

After a few minutes of driving Sylus sighs, glancing your way. “Don’t want to needle me over what I do?”

“I’m trying to stay alive,” you reply, clamping down on the tremor in your jaw.

“Pity. I like hearing you mad at me.”

You bite down on your tongue, hard, not wanting to let anything slip. How can he do that? How can he joke after doing something like that? How can he slither in under your skin and undo all the fine control you have mustered up? How can he endear himself to you with just a few words?

“You killed him,” you say after a minute as you drive up on one of the highways, loathing the terrified shiver in your voice.

“I did, yes. Do you want to make any other obvious statements?”

“What is wrong with you?”

He snorts, shaking his head. “I see. You labor under the misapprehension that he was an innocent man.”

“He had a family.”

“Many do. Does that offset all the families he screwed over while I was gone? He went back on a contract we had, trying to line his pockets at the cost of those worse off. He tried to squeeze people who have no one to defend them. I will not stand idly by and watch that happen. Does that ease your heart? I can hear it pounding.”

“Mind your own business,” you say, ears turning embarrassingly hot.

“I am. You are my business. I wouldn’t want you to damage your heart prematurely.”

You turn to glare at him, and he reaches one hand over towards you again, but this time you don’t flinch. You open your mouth and bite his fingers, hard, then spit them out triumphantly when he hisses.

“Fine,” he says, taking a turn so hard you sink back into the seat, his hand quickly wiping away something from your nose. “There. He got blood on you.”

“Oh.”

“I guess it’s my fault. They say you shouldn’t corner a scared cat.”

“I am not scared of you.”

“You can lie to me,” he says, a dark edge to his voice despite the smirk on his face as he grabs your wrist and presses his thumb against the inside of it, “but your body does not. I can feel your pulse, sweetie. Unless you find that kind of thing exciting? Do they hire adrenaline junkies as Hunters now?”

You pull your hand back from his grip, determined to not let his words get to you. Not that he makes it easy for you, so quick to read and pin you down as if you were an open book.

You lick your teeth and shudder. His fingers tasted exactly like they did in that dream that haunts your waking moments.

-

After a dinner so silent it makes you feel starved for conversation, Sylus waits for you to get up first and trails behind you. Nothing unusual, and frankly, you get it. The risk of the resonance link ruining your day trumps how unnerving he is to be around, all things considered, but you don’t have to be happy about it.

Most nights, you ask to watch a movie. Tonight, you opt for the library. He has a grand one, filled with shelves from floor to ceiling, ladders on wheels that slide along the walls with nary a sound. You aren’t in a reading mood, though. Well, unless the reading is him. You want desperately to turn the tables on him, even a little.

You beeline for the drink bar. “Do you want a drink?” you ask, uncorking a tumbler and sniffing the contents. Smoky, wooden alcohol tickles your nose, heavy and heady.

“What’s the occasion?”

You put the plug back in and turn over the many bottles, looking for something lighter.

“I feel like you owe me some fun.”

“Do I? How exciting.” He comes to stand next to you, opening a hidden cabinet and pulling out a soda. “Looking for this?”

“Fine. I don’t like them as strong as you do. What of it?”

“Nothing. Endearing, maybe.” He pours you two drinks, holding them out for you to sample and pick which one you prefer. “Now what sort of fun did you have in mind? Finally going to try and actually like spending time with me?”

“In your dreams,” you mutter, deciding on the left drink and taking it from him. No, you have something else in mind. It’s a child’s game. A game you played with boys and girls when you were teens, stomach a black hole of desire and fear to be kissed on a dare. But now as an adult, you hope to turn it into a clever trap to get what you want from him: information. Answers.

And you need a little liquid strength to face whatever attempt at humiliation he no doubt will put you through for it.

“Let’s play a game,” you say, plopping down on the couch and folding your legs under you. “One question, one sip, one answer. We take turns.”

He nods as he pours himself a drink, humming. “And if we cannot answer?”

“You mean don’t want to.”

“Oh, I’m sure I could ask things you’d storm out of this room over. So we need a mutually acceptable out, otherwise the game lacks fairness.”

“Okay. Dares then. Like, take a shot of vodka. Or…” You gesture, sighing. “Kiss, I don’t know, make it a reasonable thing we can do in this room.”

“A kiss, huh? Is that where your mind goes near me? How scandalous, miss Hunter.”

You glare at him as he sits down on the couch opposite you, dropping his cufflinks on the table and rolling up his shirtsleeves.

“And don’t use that eye on me.”

“Very well,” he says, looking at you smugly. “Keep in mind I will match you ask for ask, dare for dare.”

You run a finger along the rim of the wine glass, picking from the questions you have. It's a veritable garden of possibility aflame in your mind.

“What do I mean to you?” you begin, and raise your glass to take a sip.

“Right now, you are a poorly behaved kitten reaching for things out of her grasp.”

You swallow the mouthful of the drink, grimacing. “And before?”

“Ah ah.” He wags his finger. “My turn. What did you dream about that night we shared a bed?”

You blush, and the way his red eye glows in the dim light – oh. Oh the scoundrel. “You planted it.”

“Now how would I be able to do such a thing? What a horrid accusation.” He thumbs the glass of whiskey, smiling. “Did you at least enjoy it?”

Yes. “No.”

“Such a shame.” He knocks it back, smugness unruffled. “And I even got two answers out of you. It would seem that you are not good at this game.”

Your nose twitches, annoyed. Even if he has a point about you reaching above what you can have, you would never back down near him – and never admit to as much.

“Why did you want me so bad you were willing to kidnap me?”

He clicks his tongue, watching intently as you take a sip. “I think I will pick the dare option.”

“Fine. Show me your worst scar.”

He undoes the top button of his shirt, peeling it back to reveal what looks like nothing, just shadows playing over the divots on his chest. You lean in, squinting. “What am I looking at?”

“The most terrible scar anyone has ever inflicted on me,” he says, running a finger along a divot that begins just under his Adam’s apple and down between his pectorals, and as he does, you see it. The skin puckers oddly, the skin looks raw and tender.

“Did it hurt?”

He shakes his head. “That is another question, and you have not yet earned it.”

An urge to touch it comes over you and you slump back in the seat, watching as he buttons the shirt up. You exhale through your nose, trying to keep your head clear in the game.

“My turn.” His eyes glint viciously. “What’s your taste in men?”

“Dare,” you blurt immediately. The last thing you want is to unpick that chain of thought right now.

“Come sit next to me.” He gestures at the empty spot on his two-seater couch.

Fine. You can do that. It’s hardly bad enough to warrant the withering glare you shoot him as you settle down, crossing your legs and turning towards him. There’s enough space between you to fit a third person. Maybe. Either way, it’s absolutely, perfectly fine.

“You are wearing that perfume,” he comments. “Did you sneak in and steal some?”

“Maybe,” you shrug, but it is exactly what you did. The scent feels oddly like home, even though you can’t name why, just the stirring of an emotional whirlpool, too dark to peer to the bottom of.

“Be honest,” he demands.

“Yes. Okay. Yes, I did. Happy?”

“The way you fluster when caught, yes, it does entertain me.”

You pinch your nose, trying to grab one of the questions you had in mind just minutes ago, now flitting away too fast. “What do you think will happen when we resonate?”

He sits quiet for a minute, running his finger along the side of the glass.

“Well?”

“Dare,” he says finally, heavily, and you regret allowing for that clause in the game. At least if you give him a horrid enough dare, he might change his tune.

“Rub my calves,” you say, putting your feet on his thigh, pressing down to flex them. “They are so tight. Or you can answer the question.”

He clicks his tongue, flicking a finger against your ankle. “Bold.” And then he does it anyway, and you didn’t know a massage could feel this good but he has a way of making it not hurt or tickle, the tense muscles slowly easing up as he drags his knuckles against them, rolling out the knots.

“You are awfully good at that,” you mutter, satisfied with the sensation and deeply dissatisfied with how he managed to evade your questions once more.

“Thank you. I have never heard any complaints from others.”

From others. A stab of jealousy lacerates your heart and you remove your feet from his lap, retreating to your corner of the couch before you can act cool and above that. Why do you care? It’s not like you want to be that close to him, right? But the way your gut clenches, you’re starting to sense a drift into the shadowy unknown.

“My turn. Have you grown fonder of me yet?”

He plays a dangerous game. Lethal. By all reason, you should be loathing him with ever fiber of your being, the way he snags on all your edges, the way he is like a splinter driving himself in at a blunt angle underneath your skin. So why is there a part of you enjoying this? Why is there a part of you begging to escalate? You can’t even blame the drinks, which makes all of it even worse.

“No.” And so you lie, again.

“You are a very poor liar.” And he catches you, flicking his finger against your arm.

“Dare,” you hiss, dodging the question, a blush burning across your chest.

He pats his leg, and dread clenches in your chest as you realize what it is he wants.

“Come sit on my lap then, if you don’t want to answer.”

And you really, really don’t. You knock back the last of the bright red wine and stand up, your knees knocking together as you assess his legs. They’ll hold you, no doubt. They have before, when he tried to wrench a resonance out of you. (When you shot him.) It feels more tangled now. Like a choice you almost want to make.

He presses his foot between your legs, parting them and nudging the back of your heel. “Don’t be shy. You’ve been here before.”

You straddle his lap, trying to sit as far away as possible, but it still is not enough space.

Perhaps dread isn’t the right word for what this position does to you, you amend, smelling the whiskey on his breath and the perfume at his neck. Anticipation, which in many ways is outright worse.

“Comfortable, kitten?”

“Not exactly.”

“As they say, proximity makes the heart grow fonder.” He tilts his head, lopsided smile playing on his lips as he adjusts you on top of his legs, pulling you forward a little. It is far more comfortable, his muscles tensed just enough to support you.

“They clearly never spent time near you.” You shift carefully, trying to reach your glass only to find it empty.

He holds up his drink as an offering. Turning it over until you find a spot with no lip marks or droplets, you take a tiny sip, shuddering at the taste – strong, but oddly pleasant. A taste that suits him, reeking of expensive state and quiet luxury.

Emboldened, and a little infuriated, you tap his clothed chest. “Who gave you this scar?”

His gaze darkens, expression curdling. “Dare.”

“Stop evading my questions.”

You slap your hand against his chest, and he grabs your wrist with a bitten-back sound, holding it away from himself.

“You set the rules. Are you displeased with how your little game is unfolding?”

“If you didn’t want to tell me anything, why did you even agree to it?”

“Is it so bad if I want to watch you squirm?”

You pull your wrist free, glaring. “Here’s my dare: let me touch your scar.”

He sets his jaw hard, but to your surprise he parts the shirt once more, peeling back the fabric to reveal it. Now that you have seen it once, you can never not notice it, the ridges, the tell-tale healed tissue, the way shadows catch on each bump and divot. In a way, that ancient deep way that rushes deep inside you, it speaks to you, a secret yours to pry open: the intoxicating rush of owning some part of him.

You hold your fingers against the ice cube in the glass, and his chest heaves once, twice, gaze turning just as cold as your fingertips. As you bring them to the lowest point of the scar, you think you hear him draw in a shaky breath. Or maybe it’s you. It’s hard to tell with how close the two of you are, your hearts beating a disharmonious rhythm.

He chokes a noise in his throat as you touch the scar, dragging your finger up slow and steady. As you get halfway, he moans, and you lick your lips, mouth going dry. A part of you is screaming, terrified of what you are opening up, and another part can’t back down. Not from a fight. And not from him.

“Careful,” he whispers, his voice tight.

It would have been better for him if he hadn’t.

Twisting your finger you drag the nail along the final inches of skin, and he winces underneath your touch, almost bucking up against it. It’s electrifying, how responsive he is, how this scar awakens a side of him just like that. A side you haven’t seen. A need you haven’t dared to conceptualize. Not until this shivering moment.

Shaking your head, you try to get control of yourself again, rushing the final inch and scratching him so hard his skin goes shiny pink. You curl your finger away from him, leaning back as he catches his breath through gritted teeth.

“Was that all you thought it’d be?” he asks. He pointedly does not button up his shirt.

“It’s your turn,” you say quietly, offering him the glass. The spell hangs in the balance between the two of you, but where it leads you can’t follow.

“Do you want me?”

You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t. You really, really shouldn’t. But you also can’t lie convincingly enough.

“Dare," you reply, voice rough and husky.

“Put your arms around my neck.”

You curl your fists tight, glaring at him as you follow his command, making sure not to let your hands touch any part of him, just barely resting your wrists on his shoulders.

“Closer,” he says, but you shake your head.

“It’s my turn. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Casting about for a question, you try to pull at all the threads between you, all that makes him, finding anything that can save you from the darkness you are sinking into. And like that, a life buoy lands in your mind’s eye, crystal clear and dreadful.

“Do you enjoy killing?”

His upper lip twitches, amused.

“Sometimes, yes. If the person has caused enough problems, why shouldn’t I?” He toys with a lock of your hair, wrapping it around his fingers. “Haven’t you ever wanted to kill someone because you know it’d feel so good?”

“For a moment, you... You made me feel like that.” The confession burns, hot and shameful. Never before in your life, never before him, and yet a molten core inside you was so close to tipping over and rendering you a completely different person when he reached inside you. It felt like being cracked open. It felt... “It felt so good to hurt you.”

“You have a talent for it.” He tugs at the lock, bringing your face closer to his with a sweet sting searing your scalp. “Now answer my question: if I used my eye on you in this very moment, what desire would it make you confess to? Wanting to kill me? Or –”

“Dare,” you whisper, cutting him off. Not that it saves you. In fact, his eyes narrow, as if he has won.

“Kiss me.”

You scowl. He has won. Your choice is to answer a question which, you’d rather die than giving him that satisfaction. Or you leave, which is humiliating. You have never backed down from a game before and you know he’d mock you endlessly for the cowardice.

So instead you shift on his lap, leaning your head in to kiss him quick. If you keep it a mere brush of the lips then it’s bearable enough. A quick peck, and nothing more. You barely even feel his lips, but you do feel slightly disappointed, like you are robbing yourself from tasting a pastry right in front of you.

But as you pull away, he grabs your chin.

“No,” he says, tsking, his thumb pulling at your lower lip. “Make it a proper one, miss Hunter, or you’ll be hurting my feelings.”

“As if you have any to wound,” you whisper against his mouth, but you give in – despite knowing better, despite loathing him, despite every shred of resentment you have stoked against him.

It’s soft at first, but with your hands on his shoulders and the heat of being so close, the hunger compels you to be more insistent, more desperate. His lips part, and so do yours. Your hands move first, to weave through and tug at his hair, but his follow suit to settle on your hips. You have given in, allowing yourself this indulgence, but as hunger grows, one of his hands pressing at the small of your back, you come back to yourself as though ice shoots through your veins.

You should not be doing this. You shouldn’t be here anymore. It’s too much.

You hate him, you hate him, you hate him. It’s a desperate mantra you have to believe as you wrench yourself away from him and scramble to your feet. You have to get out of here, get outside and breathe in fresh air, anything but him.

Fearful of him pulling you back in, tugging you back onto his lap and wearing down at your senses in a way that would have you continuing to give in to this horrible ugly want twisting your stomach asunder, you rush to the door on unsteady feet. You cannot keep playing games with him. You cannot let him toy with you any longer.

-

It might have been hours, it might just have been minutes – it’s hard to tell how long you have been out on the rooftop terrace. You blink up at the blood red sky of the N109 zone, light pollution obscuring the stars in the sky. Or should it be a sun? You can’t tell. The air isn’t fresh enough to calm your nerves, so you have been letting your eyes rove over the skyline, the skyscrapers, counting windows, following what happens in the lit up windows.

You squeeze your eyes shut tight, a wave of humiliation and cloudy wants washing over you again. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You rub at your lips again, hoping to get rid of the feeling of his mouth against yours, but it still lingers. Everything about him does, because you’re stuck with him, because you tried to angle a stupid deal.

Groaning, you slump forward, resting your folded arms on the balustrade.

What are you even hoping to achieve here? Tangle your feelings up in a crime boss? Rot to old age in the N109 zone?

The door opens and closes behind you, and you keep your eyes focused on a distant building, not wanting to engage with him.

“Of course we’ll be there,” Sylus says dryly behind you. “No no, it will be our pleasure. I’m sure. Bye.” He hangs up on the call and comes to stand next to you, far enough away to feel respectable, though nothing about following you around like this is.

“Business, I take it,” you say airily. “Must be more murders you’re aching to commit.”

“In a way,” he hums, sounding amused. “We have been invited to a party.”

“We?”

“People here are curious about the woman I keep, or so Luke and Kieran tell me. As for myself, I have heard you spoken about as my kidnapped bride to be,” he says wryly, folding his hands. “They say our wedding will have you dressed in black for mourning, and that I will have your wrists chained to a bouquet of crimson roses.”

“Is this all a joke to you?” Frustration has coiled tight in you for weeks, and finally a thread snaps. Not all of it, not at once, but he has run your nerves ragged and for what? A laugh? Watching a prey exhaust itself in front of him? You wish he’d just strike and bite if that is what he intends.

His voice turns sharper, underscoring his words. “I am putting in effort, I am making attempts. Are you?”

You refuse to face him, digging your fingertips into the rough stone surface worn down by acidic rain. It hurts, but you can’t risk looking directly at him.

“And is any of it sincere? Because all your efforts lack meaning without it.”

He raps his knuckles against the balustrade, annoyance tensing his entire body up.

“I want resonance,” he says tersely. “I am doing what must be done.”

“Seduction will wear thin very quickly. You do know that I hate you, right? You won’t be able to change that through a kiss alone.”

“I see.”

Silence sinks in between the two of you, his gaze weighing heavy on your body. You remain resolute, staring out over a place that might be your home, your life, your future tomb, and you will yourself to feel nothing.

You lose track of how long the two of you stand there, immersed in silence, him looking at you, and you refusing to meet his eye. The sky’s hue changes once, twice. You are both so very, very stubborn.

“The way your knuckles are going white, I am beginning to wonder if you intend to jump.”

“No,” you say, suppressing a smile with all your might. “But what would you do if I did? Watch it?”

“Ah. You wouldn’t fall far, dear. I would not let you.”

His phone rings, and he checks the screen, hesitating for a beat, two, before picking up and leaving you alone.

The horrid, traitorous part of you wishes he’d stay just a little longer, and while you should tamp down on it, silence it before it gets traction inside of you, you instead let it linger as you think of his lips against yours. If you close your eyes a little, you can even taste him: smoky liquor, leather perfume, warmth. It’s so easy to betray yourself, and a dark part of your heart wants more. Of his kisses, of his teasing. Of him.