#this is enough im done im moving on this is weight off my fucking chest

[chaogongoozles]

// vent , journal?, letter to the void to a specific person? Whatever, if ya know ya know//

Didn't think I'd have a close pal choose to be a dirty fucking pig (cop) apologist knowing damn well everything they do and done to marginalized groups, all while trying to tell me "I don't support them!.. but also don't call my coworkers pigs that's disrespectful >:(" bitch??? Blow it out your ass, you wanna fuck around with the pig squad thinking you can 'be a good one' while still supporting them because you work with them? Fine by me, but you're not my friend or ever will be as long as you keep that bluelivesmatter mentality knowing damn well who I am, or who my partner is, or everyone close who has been directly affected by them. Already trying to say the 'negative talk' that cops get is what's the main issue in society™ without wondering WHY so many people fucking hate cops? Or thinking the horrible conditions prisoners are put in is the police 'being underfunded ' when that's by fucking design? Crying that people are calling you horrible shit for being a cop apologist? Boohoo cry me a river, that'll never be nearly as bad as the abuse and deaths millions of people (majority black or Native American) face from the hands of the police.

Damn fucking shame you listened to all the goons around you + those back at home who brought you and your amazing artwork down to the point you even had to work with dirty swine. Thinking that's the only way you can "help people" when you know damn well there's many more opportunities and positions that actually help people (even incorporating your art into it), but instead choosing the very thing that's suppressing us while throwing away your hard work/passions. Fuck you. If you're going to chalk up the horrors that are happening as "fake news/online garbage" or "dumb people recording cops and wondering why they're getting arrested", you're already too far gone.

RIP to the person I once knew and loved. Guess what they say is true, you either grow with friends from childhood/highschool or grow apart. We've obviously grown apart. So good bye.

#shutupchao #this month has been eventful but god damn ... #love it when my loved ones choose to be bigots while telling the nonbinary lesbian with their black nonbinary partner to stop hating cops... #like... you fucking serious rn? oh you are? damn alright guess you're my enemy now #so be it #that won't stop me from doing what i can to not only have a successful career but one that helps people while we dismantle this shit system #you say its impossible i say fuck you #I'll die trying and satan be damned I'll fucking fight back if you get in my way with your piggy squad #having the audacity to say im doing nothing but 'complaining' while fighting back on what im trying to explain to ya the systemic issues smh #this is enough im done im moving on this is weight off my fucking chest #12-7-2023 #acab #again the audacity to say people are recording dumb shit when they're recording for their safety #not to mention the thousands of videos of murders happening at the hands of cops but you gonna call those victims 'dumb'... you're sick

[runa-falls]

my ex’s tapes

summary: you and basil broke up, and now, you're seeing some other guy. but basil just can't get over you. and you know it.

pairing: ex!basil stitt x reader, fwb!jake lockley x reader

rating: explicit (18+)

cw: dub-con, smut, creep!basil, voyeurism, stalking tendencies, piv sex, virtual!cucking, m!masturbation, no aftercare, angst

wc: 1.5k

a/n: this fic was originally for someone else, but basil just fit the vibes so much more!! and yeah, the poll ran for less than 10 hours BUT 🤷🏻‍♀️ im impatient. y'all know me, i can't hold on to a finished draft for more than a day -- so this is this, take it or leave it.

masterlist

----

He sighs as he opens up his laptop.

It’s depressing, he’s depressing -- disgusting.

A hot veil of shame washes over him as the monitoring app automatically opens for him as he logs in. A reminder of his dirty habits. And yet, for some reason, it makes it that much hotter.

The screen brightens as the program displays the soft pinkness of your bedroom. A small smile quirks at his lips as he spots you laying prettily in your mini nightgown, sprawled out on your bed, as you idly text someone on your phone. 

A quick ping makes Basil switch programs and scan over your conversation.

Jake: be there in 5

You: ok! text me when you arrive :)

It’s like clockwork.

Every Friday he comes over, fucks you into the mattress then leaves before he can fall asleep next to you.

What a piece of shit, leaving someone like you alone at night. 

You deserve better. You deserve someone like him. Someone that will cuddle you to sleep and wake you up with a cup of coffee, or kiss every inch of your body while telling you how perfect you are.

And for a moment you did have him–but then your friends went and fucked everything up.  

Despite all the shit he did for you, you weren’t satisfied, or rather, your friends weren’t satisfied. Apparently, his idea of protection and security was overbearing and controlling. And he was being clingy because he wanted to spend time with you. They’ve been filling your mind with bullshit ever since you introduced him to them. 

Basil easily concluded that you were pressured into breaking up with him. That you aren’t really done with him–you’re just waiting for the right time to get back together. That’s his excuse as to why his cameras and safety initiatives are still in place. Because you’re still his.

A feminine giggle pulls Basil from his thoughts and back to what he was doing. He alt-tabs back to the security cameras, eyes immediately darkening at the image of you clinging onto Jake’s shoulders as he effortlessly carries you into the room.

An ugly weight pulls at his stomach when he sees you happily draped around another man. That should be him coming home to you, carrying you to your bedroom to show you his love. 

You’re plopped onto your bed with a squeak, bouncing slightly before pushing yourself up to eagerly crawl over to your hook-up. As you straddle yourself over Jake, he immediately starts to work his mouth over your topless chest. 

Basil’s hand brushes over his twitching bulge as your back arches prettily to push yourself further against Jake's lips. Encouraging gasps and sighs fill the room as he nips at your sensitive buds. Your breath quickens as a hand drags up your body to fist at your throat. He sucks harshly at your skin, leaving a pattern of faint bruises and teeth marks along your soft skin.

Your nearly naked figure moves lithely over his clothed body, already getting off on anything you can get your hands on. Basil watches hungrily as your hips roll fluidly over Jake’s lap, cunt barely covered by a flimsy pair of underwear. He pushes against his erection when he sees your blissed-out expression, imagining it’s him that’s making you this desperate. 

With a quick motion, Jake pushes you away to unbutton his pants, making sure to only push them down enough to free himself. You suck on your lip as you watch a bead of precum roll over the silken skin of his cock. You wish you could have a taste but that’s not how Jake likes it. 

Jake tilts his head as he considers you on his lap, cockily taking in the way your hungry eyes drink him in. With a light tap on your thigh, he commands you to move, “Get into position, sweetheart.” 

You climb off of him and settle yourself at the top of the bed, swiftly getting on all fours to present yourself to him. His hand grazes over your ass, clutching the softness before dipping into the heat of your center.

The soft fabric of your underwear is shoved to the side, exposing your glistening cunt to the room. Basil audibly groans as he catches a glimpse of your dripping hole, remembering how hot and tight you are. Your body is built perfectly to wrap around him. 

Jake lazily slides himself along the seam of your cunt, humming lightly as he soaks himself in your slick. “Look at this weepy pussy…”  You let out a breath as you relax your body against him, enjoying the gentle way he rocks over you. “You’re so messy for me.” Your body buzzes as his cock nudges against your clit with every stroke, fogging your mind with intoxicating pleasure. 

You don’t expect it when Jake’s hips abruptly snap up into you with one smooth motion, quickly filling you to the brim with a stinging stretch. The rough texture of his jeans chafes against the back of your thighs as his legs push harshly over you. You whine as your face is shoved into a pillow, barely allowing you a second of fresh air. 

Basil grips himself over his sweatpants as he watches your body struggle to get used to the sensation of being filled, legs shaking as you attempt to hold yourself up for him.

Jake easily ignores your trembling and immediately starts to pound into you, strategically angling himself to continuously prod against the electrifying spot inside of you. Despite the sharp sobs dripping from your lips, he knows you love it. Being treated like this. Like a toy. 

Basil strokes himself as he watches your greedy cunt swallow another man's cock, effortlessly moving back and forth with each thrust. He can feel his cock desperately throb for you as the filthy sound of your slick sopping down your thighs travels through the camera’s microphone. What he would do to taste you right now, the zingy flavor of your lust on his tongue.

Though he can’t see your face, he can tell you’re already close. It’s the way your body stiffens ever so slightly like you’re holding yourself back from reaching nirvana. He hates how your moans are muffled by the pink pillow. He craves to hear how your noises crescendo as you near the edge, how you crumble as pleasure takes over your body.

You almost feel like you might collapse from the aggressive way Jake drives into you. Jake’s calloused fingers grip bruises into your hips as he pushes and pulls you onto him, setting an unbeatable rhythm that you can barely keep up with.

Jake’s motions briefly stutter as your cunt grips around him. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, barely able to process his words as he continues to fuck into you. “Mm…Your cunt flutters so–fuck–sweetly around me. You gonna cum baby?” Your legs threaten to give in as molten heat rapidly blooms in your stomach, pulling you toward your peak. 

You cry out as he begins to drive himself impossibly deeper into you, slowing down when you fail to answer him. His chest vibrates against your back as he growls behind your ear, “Too stupid to speak? I asked you a question, honey.” 

With another nudge of his hips, you sputter out a response. “A-ah, yes—I’m so close, sir.” 

“That’s what I thought.” 

Basil’s sweats are messily shoved halfway down his thighs as he watches your tired body move bonelessly along with each movement of Jake’s hips. The stroke of his hand moves in sync with yours, cock leaking as he grips himself tightly to conceptualize the feeling of being inside of you. 

The rawness of your climax causes your body to writhe underneath Jake and you involuntarily start pulling away from his cock as your cunt convulses with ecstasy. 

Basil’s eyes squeeze shut as he’s coaxed into his release by your soft muffled whimpers. His hand works quickly along the length of himself as he rides it out, effectively spreading his mess with his hand and on the tops of his thighs.

Jake groans as you ​​suck him in, hands shoving you further into the mattress as you’re unable to control the way your body flutters and jerks around him. With one last push, he spills into you, coating your walls in warmth before pulling out.

Basil watches as Jake steps out of the room after murmuring something about a towel, leaving you there panting in the middle of your bed.

Alone.

You slowly turn over to your back, pushing your hair out of your face as you come down from your orgasm, face thoroughly flushed from exertion. His heavy eyes admire you from afar, wishing he could join you on the bed and hold you against him. 

He takes one last glance at you before reluctantly closing the laptop. 

----

You reach upwards with your arms pulled taut and stretch your body until you feel light-headed. Though you enjoy being fucked from behind, your back is always left sore from arching so deeply. Jake is fine. Good even. But that’s it. 

You’ve tried your hardest to ignore it, but something’s been missing from your life. Or someone.

Your eyelashes shadow over your gaze as you subtly glance at the stuffed kitten on your shelf. Your heart flutters when you notice the faint red light on its collar blinking right back at you. 

He’s still there.

#*throws fic in your face then trots away* #basil stitt #basil stitt x reader #basil stitt smut #lightning face #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #jake lockley smut

[spittingbloodandscreaming]

can u do a pt2 of ur habit fic where he continues to overstimulate the reader!! I love ur writing btw XD

im so glad you like my writing!!! sorry this took me a hot second!! I wasn't sure if you wanted a direct continuation, so I kinda just ran with it. I hope it was worth the wait <3

Plaything Cnt. (HABIT x Male Reader SMUT)

WARNINGS: biting, overstimulation, hair pulling, tiny bit of blood

Habit huffs, putting his face in your hair. His weight on top of you keeps you in place, and the arm he has locked around you keeps you flush against him. His cock still is buried inside you, and you’ve lost track of how long you’ve been on the floor. You are, however, painfully aware of the cum dripping down your thighs and soaking into your jeans, and the drool pooling underneath your chin. You're not sure he ever softened inside you, but a slight adjustment of your hips has his dick throbbing. You let out a drawn-out groan of defeat as you feel his hips rutting against yours again. Habit takes the opportunity to lazily take your pants off the rest of the way. He runs a hand through your hair like he’s petting you, and aside from not killing you, it’s the nicest thing he’s done so far.

Habit decides that fucking you into the carpet is too boring. He sits up on his knees, opting to lift you by your thighs, folding you in half, and pressing your back flush against his chest. You feel his dick twitch inside of you, and already your cock is hardening again. Habit doesn’t move at all, rather moving you up and down his length like a human fleshlight. It starts off slow, but even that's enough to have your dick throbbing painfully from the overstimulation. He has his face pressed into the crook of your neck, huffing and growling animalistically as he steadily quickens his pace. You let out a strangled whine as he runs his tongue up the side of your neck, biting down hard once he reaches the base of your jaw. 

Your sensitivity is cranked up to a thousand it feels like—hot tears streaming down your face as you let out strings of pitiful whines. Habit bucks his hips up now, meeting you in the middle each time he slams you down. He's escalated to a harsh, almost punishing pace—turning your whines into full-on screams. You're seeing stars as Habit brings you to another, almost painful orgasm. Cum shoots out in long spurts that all land on your stomach, covering you in a sticky mess. 

Habit quickens his pace somehow, making it so each of his thrusts are felt throughout your entire body. It’s not too long until he rips another orgasm from you, along with an attempt at ripping a chunk of flesh out of your shoulder with his teeth. He, instead, settles for drawing blood. He licks up his mess, leaving a trail of his spit and your blood as cum smears over your stomach and thighs for the whatever-th time today. Your moans have been reduced to full-on sobbing—you’re overstimulated to the point of it being painful—and, for some reason, you can't help but enjoy it.

You’ve lost track of how much cum is on you, and how many bites and hickies litter your shoulders, and you’re not entirely able to feel your legs, but you absolutely adore it, regardless of the tears streaking down your face. You think Habit is, too. He’s growling and snarling and he has his mouth on any skin it can reach. He’s practically drooling over you. He just can’t handle how good your skin tastes, or how pretty the sounds you make are. Habit takes a mouthful of the back of your neck, sucking a deep purple hickey into your skin. He’s marking you, and somehow that makes everything ten times hotter. Oh, how possessive he’s being—you relish in it. You truly adore the idea of being his.

Habit is so deep inside you that you wouldn’t be surprised if he actually is rearranging your guts. You don’t know how he’s managed to keep the violent pace he set steady, but then again, he’s not exactly human, and you aren’t exactly complaining. By now, you aren't even bothering to hold your head up. You’re drooling and babbling out half-baked pleas, and all you get in response from Habit is a taunting laugh and a condescending spiel as you finish again—shooting blank this time.

“Oh, bunny, you shouldn’t beg; it’s not polite,” he smiles, sweat dripping down his forehead as he presses his cheek to yours. “But, since you were so inclined,” Habit says, laying you back onto the floor rather suddenly—like you’re nothing more than a ragdoll to him. He put you back in a low doggy style, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your head back for leverage. At this point, his hand squeezing your hip was the only thing keeping you off the floor. He’s almost drooling over you. In fact, you think he is based on the slow drips hitting you back. His thrusts are becoming erratic and messy, but they keep the same roughness they have the whole time. As his thrusts become more shallow, he’s growling audibly. His grip on both your hair and hip tightens, leaving little time before you feel his dick twitch inside of you, filling you up with hot, sticky spurts of cum—enough to send you over the edge one more time.

Habit’s breathing is a labored pant. His hand moves from your hair to around your chest, holding you against his own. He sighs, and almost gently presses a long kiss to the back of your head. He acts almost tenderly towards you, as if the past hours of testing you like his very own personal cumdump had never happened. His breathing evened, his panting turning into long, deliberate breaths. Habit tightens his hold on you just slightly, and after a deep inhale, he begins to speak.

“I really think I’m starting to love you, rabbit.”

#slenderverse #everymanhybrid #everymanhybrid x reader #habit emh #habit emh x reader smut #habit x male reader smut #everymanhybrid fanfic #everymanhybrid smut #slendererse x reader #habit x male reader #everymanhybrid fanfiction

[kindnessisweakness2]

Delusional -Part 22

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Delaney questioned Alex as he stood from the table and made his way towards her. “Ah Ah Ah...” He sarcastically wagged his finger at her. “Wow, Teller really has re lit the fire in you. Think your untouchable?” He challenged her, the look in his eye begging her to say something, to fight back. "Your Mom called me. She wants me to take you back. Begged me pretty much.” Delaney scowled at him. “What is it you want Alex? Im done playing this fucking game with you.” Alex smirked at her. “Isnt it obvious? I want you dead. i just want to enjoy fucking with you first. By the time im done you’ll be begging me for death. It’ll be a mercy.” Tears stung at Delaneys eyes. "Why? What have I done to deserve this, any of it?" Alex studied the broken woman in front of him. She looked tired and scared. Part of him debated just giving in and killing her quickly. Maybe he had put her through enough. But despite any reason he could think of to give her mercy, he knew he wouldn't be fully satisfied until he had her blood on his hands. Soaking in his skin, the spray of it coating his face. Oh he couldn't explain how bad he craved it. A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. Pointing the gun at her again he nudged his head towards the door. “Get rid of them. If you say anything, hint at anything being wrong i will kill them and you.” Delaney shuffled towards the door with Alex at her back, digging the barrell of the gun into her side. She was trying her best to stay calm, but all she wanted to do was break down. Let it all out, the screams, the tears. Fear and Anger weighed heavy on her chest. Opening the door just enough to pop her head out, her worried eyes fell on Halfsack. Trying to keep a neutral face, but secretly hoping he would notice something off and tell Jax, Delaney managed a small smile. “Hey, Jax sent me just to check on you, Make sure you didnt need anything. I know you guys arent in the best place right now, but he cares Ya’know.” Kip started to Ramble. Delaney’s eyes filled with tears she couldnt stop. Clearing her throat trying to move the fast growing lump, she tried not to think that this would possibly be the last time she laid eyes on someone in her family. If she knew yesterday would be the last time she saw Jax, she wouldnt of wasted it arguing. The issue of Tara seemed stupid now. Now that today would be her last day. Tried not to think of their little baby tucked away in her belly, another one they wont get the chance to raise. Death would be a blessing in that regard, she wouldnt have to feel the pain of losing another child. “I-Im Fine. Thank you. P-Please tell Jax, that i love him, m-more than a-anything.” Halfsack smiled but looked at his  VP’s old Lady quizzically. She was weird,But he couldnt put his finger on it. Is this what pregnancy hormones does to women? Kip nodded at her anyway and started to head back towards his bike. “Oh and Kip?” He turned as she called. “Please can you tell him I’m Sorry?” Kip couldnt hide the confused look on his face but before he could question what she was sorry for the door was shut. Getting on his bike, He headed straight towards Gemma’s. He couldnt shake the feeling something was off. 

“Jax i think you need to go home.” Halfsack walked straight into Gemmas Kitchen, finding his VP sat at the table drinking a coffee. He looked like he had been up all night with the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Is she okay?” Gemma questioned worriedly. The last thing her son needed was anything to happen to Delaney and the baby. “Shes weird, i dont know how to explain it. Somethings off Jax. She said to tell you she loves you more than anything, but she was all stuttery and was trying to stop herself from crying. And then i was about to leave she called my name and said to tell you she was sorry.” Kip really couldnt explain the panicked feeling it left him with, but he needed Jax to go home. “So do you think she was just upset about the argument we had? Crying is normal right? Shes pregnant and hormonal.” Jax tried to think logically. Maybe Halfsack was overthinking this. “No baby, i think we should go check on her. If he thinks something is off, its worth checking out. Shes been through alot recently, lets just go make sure she is fine.” Jax nodded at his mother. He didnt want to wait till Monday to go home anyway. This thing with Tara was sorted, he’s handled it, so he was hoping they could move on. He could go home and start getting ready for their little miracle baby. Their boy. Even thinking about the baby made a smile stretch on his face. The three of them. Their own little family. Grabbing his Kutte, Jax followed his mom out the door and headed to his bike. He was going home. 

There were many times in her life that Delaney pictured her death. Planned it, hoped for it even. Part of her always knew Alex would one day be the cause of it. But one thing she didnt imagine, was that it would happen in Jax’s house. There she was, on her knees infront of Alex, in Jax’s living room. Gun only a few inches from her forehead. 1 Shot. Clean. Execution Style. Thats all it would take, and she would no longer exist. Would Jax be the one to find her? No, she didnt want that image left for him. She didnt want him to see her like that. It would haunt him. How long would he wait before seeking comfort from another woman? Would it be Tara’s arms he fell back into? She hoped not. But the thought of him running to a crow eater for comfort didnt make her feel any better. She could see the front door in her peripheral vision, like it was taunting her. Her only escape route and she couldnt take it. A punch to the side of the head brought her out of her thoughts. Fuck. “Are you even listening?” Alex spat at her. She winced as pain shot down her face and through her jaw. “Yeah, some shit about your gonna kill me. Leave my body for Jax. Whatever. I told you earlier. Im done with your games. You wanna kill me? Get it fucking over with.” Another smack split her cheek and had her seeing stars. Her ears were ringing with the force of the smack and she blinked hard trying to come to her senses. She heard the safety click off on the gun and her stomach dropped. “Are you gonna cry?” He taunted. Gritting her teeth, Delaney looked forward. Was she fuck going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her panic. No if she was being taken from this earth, she was doing it swinging. She was fighting. She wasnt going to make it easy for this bastard. “Any Last words my love?” He grinned as he looked down at her. So scared, but trying to be so strong. He could see it in her eyes, the fear, and he would be lying if he said it didnt make him happy. “Yeah, I hope that Jax tortures you before he kills you. I hope he hurts you so fucking bad. Makes you cry like the pathetic little boy you really are on the inside. Theres a reason you are the way you are Alex. What is it huh? Mommy didnt love you enough? Did she not hug you? Did Daddy beat you? Was he never proud? Were you never good enough Alex Reid? Tried your hardest but never got daddy and mommy’s approval.” She could see the rage flicker in his eyes. It was working, she was getting to him. With any luck he would kill her quickly. 

Pulling up to the unusually quiet house, Jax was instantly worried. Usually the music Delaney played could be heard in the street it was that loud. And if you stood at the bottom of the drive you could see her dancing and swaying about the kitchen to the beat as she cleaned or cooked. There was always movement in their home, but now it was eerily quiet. Deciding instantly they needed to be careful Jax walked to where his mom sat in her car. “Prospect was right. Somethings off. Stay here, call the rest of the guys.” Gemma’s face showed her worry instantly. “Ya’know shes probably in bed getting rest like the doctor told her yesterday. You should probably leave her alone, let her rest. The doors not smashed off, its not trashed and theres no sign of an intruder. Jax maybe give her time.” Gemma tried to reason with her son, there was no sign of anything being wrong apart from the house being quiet. Sleeping people dont make much noise. Jax shook his head as he thought about what his mom said. He had the same feeling as Halfsack now he was here. His stomach twisted painfully. He just had to see her. Once he saw with his own eyes he would know she was okay and he would leave her to rest. “Okay, your probably right. I’ll go in through the garage and just check on her.” Knowing her son wasnt going to rest until he saw her in the flesh, Gemma agreed. Lighting a cigarette, she sat back and waited for Jax to come back. 

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy imagine #Jax Teller #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller imagine #jax teller x reader #jax teller x oc

[badbihk]

I just need a part two on cry on it can either be a buy dial by accident from y/n calling jack when she’s with her new partner having sex and jack THought SHES running back to him when he wasn’t expecting that call he gets jealous but then the next day he sees y/n is with someone better and jack sees them one day from afar and thinks of everything then did together and he starts to regret it so like a karma to him since he ended up being lonely

Will he?

part one.

I decided to have them talk because I felt that would be a real reality check if she was clearly uncomfortable with him around. i hope you enjoy.💕

I got knots all up in my chest

Just know, I'm trying my best

jack had been up all night staring at his phone, it had been 8 months since you left and went no contact. you had him blocked on everything now. the only updates he got about you were from urban; who you still kept in touch with. he wasn’t sure how to feel, it felt like there was a weight lifted of his shoulders. he no longer had to worry about hurting you, but without you he felt like he couldn’t breathe. more like the air had been sucked out of his lungs, and it had been that way since the moment you left. jack finally unlocked his phone and began calling urban. he knew you and urban had hung out two days ago, and since then he had done his best to avoid him. of course he was curious to hear about what you’ve been up to, but he couldn’t help but feel jealous urban was the one you went to.

“ i was just calling to see how it went with y/n the other day? how is she doing?”

“ wow I don’t even get a hi. you immediately ask about her” urban laughed. “she’s good. she’s been seeing someone for a few months now and she’s happy.”

in that moment jack felt like his world shattered. he was at at a loss for words.

“look I got to go” jack muttered before quickly hanging up.

he knew you would eventually move on, but part of him had prayed you would just wait for him. he clicked on your instagram through the burner account he made just to watch you. he looked at your account everyday, at least two times a day.

Cause, when you look

When you laugh

When you smile

I'll bring you back

And now I'm sad

And I'm a mess

And now we high

That's, why I left

That's, why I left

jack stared at your pictures for hours. you were so beautiful and most importantly you looked happy. it broke his heart that you were so happy, while he was miserable. he turned off his phone and forced himself out of bed.

“jackk where are you going” the blonde girl in his bed said while rolling over to grab where he just was. “ come back to bed”

he rolled his eyes while walking out the room. she was so annoying. he stopped in the doorway and turned to her “look you weren’t even supposed to spend the night. just make sure you are gone in the morning”

jack made his way downstairs pouring him a drink. what he really needed was a fucking blunt, but this will do for now. he knew he was a mess. ever since the night you left he lost himself countless times. rather it be the instagram models, the alcohol, the drugs, sometimes all three. all he knew was that he couldn’t be alone with his thoughts, because when he was his mind was engulfed in you.

his phone ringing broke his train of thought, the familiar ringtone echoing throughout the empty house. he knew he was a little tipsy, but not enough to be hearing things. he picked his phone up off the counter to see exactly what he had dreamed of for the past 8 months. you finally calling him. he knew you would finally come to your senses. he quickly answered.

“Y/N?” he asked

“baby please don’t stop” you whimpered out in the other end of the line, your voice muffled and raspy. “fuck right there baby im about to cum”you cried out. the sound of skin to skin ringing in his ear.

he hung scrambled to hang up the phone. what the fuck? was this some kind of sick joke. he ran upstairs and busting open his bedroom door.

“get up i’m not done with you” he demanded while stripping his clothes and walking towards the naked girl sprawled out in his bed.

“ive been waiting for you to say that all night” she smirks while getting on her knees in front of him.

Will your tongue still remember the taste of my lips?

Will your shadow remember the swing of my hips?

Will your lover caress you the way, that I did?

it had been three days since jack received that call, and he hadn’t been sober for a second since. he didn’t know what your goal was. were you just trying to rub it in his face that you left? were you trying to hurt him the way he hurt you? were you trying to prove to him you moved on? maybe you didn’t even mean to call him and this was the universes sick form of punishment. punishing him for everything he had done to you in the past 4 years. jack picked up his phone and tried to call you for the 12th time today. he didn’t care if he looked crazy, he knew he was crazy.

straight to fucking voicemail. just like the other 11 calls he placed before that. he was truly losing his fucking mind.

Will you notice my charm, if he slips up one bit?

'Cause I don't need to know

I just wanna make sure you're okay

I don't need to know

I just wanna make sure you're all safe

jack was fucked. after three weeks of repeating the same cycle of fucking random girls every night, drinking until he passed out, and smoking into his lungs felt like they were going to explode he felt like enough was enough. today he would actually go to the studio and try and make some music. he hadn’t released a single in almost a year. he decided to get some coffee, a red bull, and some food on the way; knowing he would need the energy. as he pulled into the parking spot at the 7/11 he recognized your car instantly. he felt his heart jump out of his chest. he walked in the gas station scanning around to see if you were there. of course you were looking just as good as the last time he saw you, hell even a little better. he walked up to you with a childish smile on his face.

“ Y/N i didn’t expect to see you here” he says softly trying not to startle you since your back was turned to him. “ you look good”

“jack….hey” you say awkwardly while turning around and looking for your boyfriend. jack noticed your eyes wondering and it made him want to shoot himself. were you really that uncomfortable being around him that you had to search for your boyfriend?

“ ive been trying to call you but im pretty sure you have me blocked” he said in a joking tone “but ive been wanting to talk to you about us, about everything. i really miss you. nothing has been the same since you left”

as if on que, your boyfriend comes back into the aisle you were in.

“ i found those drinks you’ve been wanting to try” your boyfriend says before looking up to see who you were with. “you good?” your boyfriend says looking between you and jack.

“yeah she’s good man i was just asking her how she’s been-”

your boyfriend cuts him off “ i wasn’t talking to you, i was talking to her” he says firmly while placing his arm around you.

“im good my love” you say kissing his cheek “i was just about to come find you”

without saying a word jack turns around and walks away. he knows he should’ve said goodbye but how could he? how could he accept you happy with another man when he used to be that man for you. he was the one that made you feel safe and secure. now he was nothing more than your crazy ex that couldn’t leave you alone and watched your stories from secret accounts.

Will he play you those songs, just the way, that I did?

Will he play you so strong, just the way, that I did?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Will he treat you like shit, just the way, that I did?

'Cause I don't blame ya

as soon as he got back to his house he lost his shit. he started breaking everything in sight, as he sobbed uncontrollably. throwing all the framed pictures he had of y’all against the wall, shattering them. punching the pictures of when he was happy that hung on the wall. glad piercing through his skin, leaving blood dripping everywhere. it was like everything he had been bottling up the the past 9 months was releasing all at once. it was one thinking knowing you had moved on, but seeing it? seeing the way your eyes light up when you looked at this guy, the way you relaxed into his touch when he put his arm around you, the way he respected you. it made jack sick to his stomach. Jack couldn’t believe the way he treated you. the thought of this guy doing the same was enough for him to commit homicide. in the end he knew he had no one to blame but himself. all he had was a broken home and a broken heart. guess karma finally caught up to him after all.

#jack harlow concepts #steve harrington x black!reader #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagine

[hellfiremunsonn]

(im in my mid twenties but this is a little tmi and embarrassing so I dont want it linked to my account)

So. I have slightly uneven boobs, no big deal some people do. I've always been slightly insecure and a guy once said "its just a handful but thats ok" and then next sentence make comments about how they aren't even and how I must pad my bra (bro hadn't even taken my bra off and I was like ok we're done).

My best friend got her nipples pierced and I told her I dont think I could because my nippers aren't pronounced all the time like hers. I showed her snd she only said "oh weird I thought everyone had nips like mine". We went on no big deal. I have thought about it since, cause I never thought someone's nipples were out when not hard? And like her nips weren't hard they became more pronounced after they were hard if that makes sense?? I was just like yeah I doubt I could get those piercings and moved on but I realized ok we dont all have the same nipples (I never really thought about it before)

Started kissing a guy recently. We hadn't really gotten into it, but he moved my top (i had on one of those tops with a bra built in cause if I can avoid a bra I will). He stopped and then legit made fun of my boobs. Because my nipples were flat? Like imagine a barbie, just round chest area no nipple. It isnt inverted you can see it. Its just...flat? If im cold or aroused my nip gets hard? Which is normal?? But i guess I am not normal?? Anyways this guy said a ton of shit, even offering to get me a boob job and a bbl?

Anyways this guy really fucked with my confidence and I was just like ok I either need to know if this is normal or not. My chest.. Or like, do all guys act like this cause the only other time a guy has seen me without a top we were definitely aroused and no comments were made. Like, I feel like a guy making fun of the person he's about to hook up with is in bad taste. I feel most guys wouldn't, at least the fictional characters I like wouldn't, but is this like a normal thing guys do or is he just a dick cause this is the second guy who has made comments so

Okay first of all men literally ain’t shit.

I know your friend didn’t mean any harm by those comments she made but that’s still a bummy thing to hear.

I HAVE UNEVEN BOOBS

And my nipples are never out unless I’m cold. They don’t get hard when I’m aroused either so they’re usually just like in that “soft puffy” state.

No two boobs are 100% symmetrical unless they’re “fake” I’m pretty sure so having uneven boobs is soooo normal I promise.

My left boob has always been bigger than my right. When I gained a bunch of weight it was still noticeable, and even now that I’ve lost all the weight cause of my meds, my boobs are still uneven!

They’re also no longer firm or perky because of this so thems bitches are a little saggy, and honestly I’ve never had someone say such off handed comments about them. My nipples literally basically point downward to the floor.

I have a short torso and a big ribcage so although my boobs are DD’s they look 10x bigger because I don’t have enough chest/torso space to even it out so they look extra massive and I hate it! It doesn’t help that I’m short either so I’m just this small bitch with big titties and I’m like pls I just wanted like a full B cup. BUT I WORK WITH WHAT I GOT.

Some people have two different sized boobs and one will be an entire cup size different!

AND A HANDFUL OF TIT IS STILL TIT SO THE MEN YOURE HANGING OUT WITH ARE JUST FUCKING TRASH.

(Like if u have a nipple, I’m putting it in my mouth I don’t care what size titties u got)

I’m pretty insecure about my boobs as well! But the way I’ve had sexual partners react to them has definitely helped because most men don’t care.

Idk where I intended on going with all of this but basically long story short, is that you don’t have to be insecure about them! Or feel SO insecure about them? We all have insecurities and stuff we don’t love about ourselves but everything about us makes us exactly that. US.

I’m sorry you’ve had people make comments like that, that’s a shitty thing to hear.

Here’s a picture of me where you can see the size difference to hopefully make u feel a little bit better.

I GOT SAGGY TITTIES AND A FLAT ASS BUT IM STILL OUT HERE GETTING BITCHES

(I yell into the void as if I’m actually getting bitches)

#hellfiremunsonn asks #tw weight #brief talk of weight gain and loss

[randomoranges]

hey hi hello bonjour salut là

so remember my olympic au??? well. i know it’s done, but like. i had this idea, you see, and i had it marinating for over a year. and so, i finally just - wrote the thing. and then i needed a title. and i couldnt think of it. until the silliest of titles came to mind. anyways.

ed’s still in the picture, he’s just not in this fic. but this is very much very mongary. caltreal. whatever. ça là.

can you believe, in 2023. amazing. im as shocked as you are.

Béké-bobo

 Étienne lets out a hiss of pain, followed by a curse and tries to yank his leg away from his tormentor. Calvin ignores the other’s protests but he does knead Étienne’s thigh a little more gently, even if there’s still a deep scowl on his face.

 “You overdid it.” He says and the again goes silent, even though they both hear it. “The doctor said to go easy and you overdid it.”

 Étienne sits up as much as he can on Calvin’s massage bench and leans back heavily on his arms. Calvin’s not wrong. He had overdone. He hadn’t meant to, but he had.

 “I got caught up in the moment...” Étienne admits. That isn’t a lie. He’d hit that ice with full swing and gusto. For the briefest of moments, he’d felt twenty-five years younger and at the peak of his youth and career. It had almost felt like – before.

 “And for what!? You don’t have anything to prove!”

 Étienne blinks, surprised that Calvin sounds – upset. Why would Calvin sound upset? It’s not his leg he’s gone and messed up (again). Plus, he’ll be fine in a few days if he actually takes it easy and doesn’t put too much weight on it.

 Calvin motions that he’s done and Étienne gingerly pulls his sweatpants back on and carefully hobbles off the massage bench and makes it to the couch. Calvin brings over the pouffe and helps him elevate his leg, before he hands him a bag of ice. His movements and attention are gentle, even if he still looks upset. Étienne feels like he’s eight again and being scolded for doing something his mother had advised him not to. It feels silly, considering he’s a grown man, but he can’t shake the feeling off.

 He watches as Calvin putters about, putting his things away and making the massage bench disappear, before he returns to the couch and sits next to him. Étienne scuttles closer, making himself small and waits for Calvin to motion to him that yes, he can still come and cuddle by his side. It takes a moment, during which Étienne starts to think that maybe Calvin won’t let him, but then, with a sigh, Calvin lifts his arm and motions for him to come over.

 Étienne doesn’t need to be told twice and he carefully manoeuvres himself over, leg still on the pouffe, until he has his head resting on Calvin’s chest and Calvin’s arms around his shoulders. It’s nice and cozy here, in his lover’s embrace, and the steady beating of Calvin’s heart quells the strum of anxiety that he fucked up something good that lives inside of him.

 “I wasn’t trying to prove anything,” He mumbles, face half buried in Calvin’s sweater. It’s easier if he speaks to the sweater, not having to read the disappointment and worry in Calvin’s usual kind eyes. He’s disappointed enough people in his life, he doesn’t need to add Calvin to the list.

 “Then why did you overdo it? The doctor gave you the clear only if you took it easy...” There’s less bite to it this time around, but the reprimand stings just as much.

 Étienne sighs and grows quiet, fiddling with the button on the sweater, trying to focus on Calvin’s sure hand on his back. It’s a nice and strong hand. Soft as well. Always warm. He wishes he could hold on to it at the moment. Kiss every knuckle until Calvin forgives him and they move on from this conversation.

 This had all started last summer, really. Or well, early spring.

 Étienne had gone for his annual check-up for his stupid leg and the doctor had mentioned there was a new type of surgery that could help give him some movement back. It wasn’t a miracle cure, but if done right, he would gain a good chunk of mobility and the day to day pain would diminish. He was a good candidate considering his overall good physical shape and the fact that he wasn’t too old.

 Étienne hadn’t even had to think about it. He was scheduled for the surgery a few weeks later.

 The surgery had gone as planned and there was nothing to say about his recovery. Étienne did notice the improvements almost right away and he’d felt like a new man. He still needed the brace every so often and he couldn’t exactly move his leg like a full able-bodied person, but there was progress and if it meant that he could get a few more good years out of his leg, then he would take them.

 Then, towards the end of his recovery, came the invite.

 It wasn’t the first time he received the invite, but every time he did, he had to turn it down.

 Every so often, the Devils invited former players to a charity game. The crowd got a chance to see some of their old favourite players and the guys got a chance to play together one more time. It was fun, it was for a good cause, and Étienne had always wanted to attend, but had never been able to, due to his injury.

 This time, however, he’d called the doctor to see if he could play. Even if just for one shift. They’d worked with his physical therapist and they’d both agreed, the doctor and the physical therapist, that if he didn’t overdo it, he could play.

 Jubilant, Étienne had accepted the invitation.

 “I guess I got caught up in the moment... of being back...” He finally says, lost in a myriad of different thoughts from what may as well be ten different lifetimes.

 “You know your worth isn’t based solely on what you did when you were playing hockey, right?”

 It stings a little, the way Calvin says it, as if he’s not grateful for the life he’s had, all things considered. “I’m very well aware, thanks, but – that’s where it all started for me. With those guys on that ice and to be able to go back to it... even for a little bit – it’s like – getting the closure I never got before. Finally saying good bye and thank you on my terms...”

 He’s given it a lot of thought, over the years, and has even talked about it in therapy. Sure, he’d made peace with his career in the NHL being cut short, but there had always been something missing – some old grievance that had never properly healed. It had all clicked when he’d accepted the invitation. As if finally, he was being offered the chance to write his grand finale his own way. Not necessarily redemption, but something akin to it.

 Calvin sighs again, “But you had Sledge, after. This feels like you’re saying that Sledge wasn’t enough.”

 Étienne sits up and looks at him, frowning. “Sledge saved me. Don’t kid yourself. Without Sledge I wouldn’t be here. Fuck, I owe my life to Sledge and I’ll never be able to thank them enough for what they did or what they mean to me.” He means it, every word of it. He’s sure he’s mentioned it to Calvin before, but if he’s alive today it’s because of sledge hockey.

 After the accident, he’d been in a bad place mentally. There’d been one too many times, during his initial recovery, where he’d contemplated killing himself, the miasma in his head too loud for him to trudge through.

 At the time, he was convinced that he would never get a chance to play again and that there was nothing left for him to do. He was stuck wallowing at home, while he tried to learn to walk again, wondering what the point of it was. It was during an especially difficult time when Mark, who was on the Sledge team at the time, came knocking on his door.

 Étienne had turned him down at least four times, but Mark was a persistent fellow who kept coming to see him, even when Étienne wanted nothing to do with him and eventually, he’d agreed to come and watch a game.

 He was hooked from that day on and he never took for granted the lifeline he’d been handed on that day. He’d clung to sledge hockey with every last shred of sanity and willpower and he’d clawed his way back to life.

 “But this group of guys... they were the first to accept me. They were the ones who let a queer guy play on their team and stood up for that same queer guy when others insulted him... I know it’s hard to understand, but for the first time – for that young twenty year old me – I felt welcomed and wanted. I had friends and people who had my back. It meant the world – it still means the world and suiting up again with them... I guess I just wanted to relive it all for a moment, just one more time... I’m sorry if I worried you,” He concludes with a sigh, still swimming in memories of before, overlapped with the game from yesterday. He doesn’t regret it, no, and he just hopes that Calvin will come to understand.

 Calvin sighs again, but he does pull him closer and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Of course I’m worried. I saw the way you skated off at the end of the game and I had to put up with you all of last night. You’ve suffered enough. I don’t want you to keep suffering when you don’t have to.” He’d suffered through worse, even before the accident, but Calvin worries easily. Especially when he does reckless things. Then again, Calvin had been worried about him even before they’d started seeing each other, when he’d been but a coach and Calvin the volunteer assigned to his locker room.

 His words warm up some dead part of his heart again and Étienne still doesn’t believe that for some odd reason, despite all the odds in the world, they’re still both here together.

 “It’s just a little twinge. It already hurts less, promise. And I know that I’m in good hands with you.” Calvin doesn’t look completely convinced, but he does relax a little. “If you want, I’m sure you can try and kiss it better. I’m pretty sure that’ll work as well.” He grins, a little more hopeful than playful, but it has its desired effect, when Calvin rolls his eyes, fond, and then wraps him in his arms before he presses a series of noisy kisses to his cheek.

 Étienne can’t help but laugh as he holds on to Calvin’s arms, feeling already much better.

 FIN

#pc: montreal #pc: calgary #pc: câlice de gary #calvin BRISEBOIS LOL #câlice BRISEBOIS LOL #étienne maisonneuve #fic #au #olympic au

[cacacita]

i ate today after six days of not eating bc i felt like my chest was too tight to breathe and my mom freaked out and tried to figure out what was wrong with me until i finally shared with her and she got super. serious. which ive only seen her do like 4 times ever in my life. but i told her everything after my body calmed down with a few bites and some time. she say and watched me. but i just couldnt bite my tongue anymore.

i told her how much everything appearance and weight related she and dad ever enforced on me deeply affected me so much that id grown to hate myself. hate myself so much that i wished id get hit by a car and forced into a coma to lose weight or how i fantasize daily about cutting off my arms or getting surgery after surgery done. how i starved myself through so many years and my body never lost the weight and i could see her disappointment that id never be like her in her prime. how when she bought smaller clothes for me to lose weight to fit into that it was the worst blow to pride i ever experienced. how when she locked cabinets i would eat paper and cardboard because i was so hungry. how the day she told me "dont worry mimi, inside you is a skinny girl. she just needs to come out, and youll really be yourself" is marked as the day i knew id never be enough for her or myself. id always hate myself. i lost the battle for self acceptance let alone self love long ago and i will never feel worthy of anyones approval.

for the first time ever she completely listened. no jokes. no distractions. no looking at her phone mid vent. no forgetting. no need to repeat myself. she listened to me. and she started to cry which surprised me because she is not an emotionally reactive person. she never cries. shes never serious. but she told me after a minute that she was so sorry. she kept shaking her head saying sorry and i really think she meant it. i dont think she knew how much pain she and my dad caused. she just kept saying like, we never wanted you or jt to hate yourselves, you were never ugly, you were always beautiful the way you were but youre right, we didnt treat you two like that was true. and now this is reality. fuck. it was heavy and emotional and seeing my unserious mom like this, finally listening to me, finally understanding this . fuck if i didnt need to hear that. but it got crazier. she told me that i needed to get help (not a first time shes said that) but she added that things will only get worse if i keep this up. i asked well im fat so like what would actually happen. she was like (im paraphrasing here from memory) "your heart health will always be affected by this. i know because i did this too. because of MY mom trying to control ME. AND the industry i worked in. i wasnt skinny because i walked every day. i was skinny because i didnt eat either. thats how i got to be a model. and it was miserable "

it never fucking occurred to me that my mom was or could have been a victim too. it never occured in my mind that the same pressures to be perfect and beautiful were put on her and she was just doing what she knew, just in a different, more digestible way, thinking that if i was skinny somehow through diets or outside control that i wouldnt be subject to the same misery, but it ended up doing the same thing. she realized she repeated the cycle she wanted to destroy and my dad was absolutely no help either. she really, really unpacked that in front of me and yeah today was super emotional

but it was good. i feel like a huge weight is off my shoulders, and for the first time in a long time, i trust my mom. not that she wasnt dependable ever bc she was always there for me in other ways, but i felt like for the first time ever she SAW me. she HEARD me. neither of us are empathetic people but we really empathized with each other. i think today was a huge milestone in my mom and i moving forward in the right direction. my anxiety around eating is not CURED by any means because thats from deeply internalized stuff that one conversation cant get rid of but. i have real support at home for it. my mom isnt belittling me not eating, shes taking it seriously. shes grown a lot these last few years after her own intensive therapy and she has made a real effort to be better to me and jt. i feel exhausted but relieved and ... healed. not at all completely or anything but everything clicked and i feel like. the resentment i had for my mom just evaporated. i knew a lot about her past but i didnt know she also was conditioned into having an ed from her own mother. and like. i get it now. i get her now and she gets me. im abt to cry typing this but i needed today. i wish i had a day off to decompress after this but ill just sleep early ig

[atthebell-moved]

💡🕯 (for ask game)

💡- What’s a idea you’ve enjoyed but never/couldn’t write?

Hmmmmm i sometimes enjoy fix-it fics (not typically for dsmp fic but esp for like. The Untamed) but i could never write one i would have to like. Idk i like writing character studies or inserting scenes, I'm not that big myself on rewriting canon, but i do enjoy reading it at times.

🕯 - Share a scene in your latest WIP

From the next chapter of m4m (for extra context m4m!Wilbur is originally Polish):

They're curled up in Wilbur's flat, Quackity sat on the couch while Wilbur sits between his legs on the floor, facing away from him with Quackity's wrist in his mouth. Quackity reads a book while Wilbur drinks and then combs his hand through Wilbur's hair once he's done. The vampire sighs and sits back against him, soft and sleepy.

"Gon' fall asleep, Quackity," he slurs into Quackity's arm.

"Okay, okay, hold on."

He moves to wrangle Wilbur's limbs and then carry him to bed, finally used to gathering up the gangly man into a manageable puddle, but in a poof the man is gone and instead a little purring bat is in his lap. He cautiously pets at the creature's fur before lifting him up and carrying him to the perch in Wilbur's bedroom. The bat barely moves, purring and making little chirping sounds as Quackity holds him.

Quackity himself sits down with his book again, looking up every few moments to check that Wilbur is sleeping alright. Aside from a few twitches he’s fast asleep, completely conked out. Quackity himself drifts off, letting his book slip through his fingers down onto the carpet.

When Quackity wakes up, there's a heavy weight on his chest, making it evident that Wilbur woke up in his lanky humanoid form and felt cuddly.

"Wilb'r? What time is it?" He groans. Wilbur, more awake but still looking completely exhausted, leans across him to read the clock on the bedside table.

“3, moja kaczka,” he murmurs into Quackity’s shoulder, seemingly falling back to sleep immediately upon delivering this information.

Quackity slides him off and sits up, looking down with concern.

“Wilbur, babe, you already slept for like twelve hours. And that was after feeding, and I know you slept well last night. Do you have fucking narcolepsy or something?”

Wilbur shakes his head into his pillow.

“Jus’ tired. Jesteś taki ciepły, wróć do łóżka,” he whines. Quackity hasn’t learned enough Polish yet to have a single fucking clue what that means aside from the word “warm.”

He gets up and digs through the closet for more blankets, covering his boyfriend in a mountain of them before sitting beside him worriedly. He reaches forward to feel his forehead, then remembers that Wilbur has been dead for well over three hundred years. Ixnay on that, he supposes.

~

*moja kaczka = my duck

*Jesteś taki ciepły, wróć do łóżka = You're warm, come back to bed

(i don't speak polish, im only slightly familiar, but these translations seemed pretty solid so hopefully they're alright)

ask game

#asks #sleepybros #bell.doc #ask games #i want to learn polish eventually but its not like a priority atm #esp since im not in academia anymore #i know a teeny bit through yiddish and various things though #anyway. i thought it would be a fun little nod to the goofy hc and also since vampires originate from eastern europe

[eliecasa]

HEREEE I COME AGAIN!

Okay listen…. KYLE’S MORNING VOICE!!! i dont hear this mans accent in the morning i will die in approximately 13 minutes.

you’re only person I’ve encountered who acknowledges how hot his voice is, so expect me here VERY OFTEN.

The lack of content surrounding Gaz should be illegal.

Same anon again -😏

Imma start living here, you accept thirsts as payment ?

hi smirky anon. its good to see you again :D i’ll do anything for the very small band of gaz voice lovers. we are an endangered species. & i couldn’t imagine thirsts not being the best form of payment.

AND GUYS!! THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLLOWS YAYY IM GLAD YOU GUYS LIKE ME ENOUGH!! 💞💞😓 muahs and smoochoes

here’s part one

warnings: basically non graphic smut at the beginning 😓( if anyone ever requests again, please do tell me to fck off with the suggestive content if thats what you like. i cant help my mind sometimes)

summary: reader finally admits to their infatuation with gaz’s voice and he’s definitely delighted, even taking it further to describe his feelings physically.

wrdcnt: 2.4k

Perhaps you’d taken more melatonin than planned. That’s the only reasonable explanation for the sight ahead of you, because there was no way in a hundred hells that Kyle Garrick would nibble at your jaw oh so gentle as he was now. It tingles like a butterfly’s wings, the graze of his tongue sparking the heat that spreads down your legs like a forest fire. It burns tastefully, “Gaz,” you pant.

‎‏‏‎

His body is just as hot as yours. You didn’t know how long you’d stay here but you knew that you didn’t want to stop touching his sculpted figure.

‎‏‏‎

This was all so new. Excitement is burning behind your cheeks as you ran your fingers down the hard ripples of his stomach. So many times you’ve seen him shirtless but never had you gotten your hands this far— let alone on his body. They flex and he grit his teeth, biting the sensitive spot on your neck as he does.

‎‏‏‎

Its hot and its heavy, his hips start to rock with yours in a breathtaking moment that you weren’t ready for. Sweat manifests on your temple, shining in the moonlight that slips through his curtains. Here you are, letting him take you in his bed like there was no tomorrow.

‎‏‏‎

Your nails find his back and they claw downwards bringing his sweet voice to make a sound of pleasure as you writhe. Everything was perfect. It was wild and dirty of you to do this with the man you considered to be your best friend. Even worse, you’ve always imagined yourself beneath him. You’d blush more if possible but whats the point? You’re as vulnerable as possible.

‎‏‏‎

Again, everything was perfect.

And just as you were losing yourself in the tide, Gaz lifts his head from your shoulder, his eyes immediately lock with yours. The hand that held yours bound to the mattress had finally released the tight bind just to palm your cheek and he said

‎‏‏‎

‎‏‏‎

‎‏‏‎

…

‎‏‏‎

Nothing.

“Gaz?” you noticed that he’s stopped moving. The moment is tense and it keeps you stiff, thinking of what you could’ve done or said wrong. The fear of him regretting having sex with you was a weight you feared you wouldn’t be able to carry. He remains balanced over you, trapping you in between his fists as he turned to look out the window. Confusion posses you to follow his gaze. “What the…?” you quirk, sitting up on your elbows as your chest heaved.

‎‏‏‎

The sun was rising for some reason. And it was awfully bright. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think a nuke just landed right in the middle of the city but… that doesn’t seem to be what happened.

‎‏‏‎

The blankets and mattress beneath you began to sink, pink rose petals come from the sheets and they flood you like a river. They’re soft and they engulf you in something that you could even consider a hug. “Gaz?”

‎‏‏‎

But before he could finally let you hear that beautiful voice of his, your eyes flutter alive.

And you scream.

‎‏‏‎

“Fucking alarm!”

‎‏‏‎

You swear you can hear the clock make a little “ah hah!” sound before you press the snooze button. Even if it only would give you 8 minutes until it went off again, you threw it across the room. Every other night, you’d have some sort of special dream about Gaz and something would ruin it, whether it was Gaz himself waking you up or your neighbors cutting grass too loud didn’t matter.

‎‏‏‎

What did matter- was the fact that you grabbed your fluffy cover and threw yourself back into the mattress, this time you fix to lay on your right side.

‎‏‏‎

and you scream again.

Weirdly, Gaz is laying in your bed or was laying down until you screamed in his face. He instantly sat up and surveyed the room, shivering from morning chill as you caught your breath.

“Fuck, what’s wrong?”

‎‏‏‎

As guilty as a convict, you can admit that his voice doesn’t do your flustered state any better. The dream you’d been rudely torn from had done a number on both you and especially— your underwear. There’s no need to move or jostle even an inch to feel the mess your stupid sleepy hormones left you with.

‎‏‏‎

Even though he just spoke, you close your eyes for a second to reimagine it. The way it rumbled many decibals lower than usual reminded you of a heavy rain. It had all the properties that made you calm, warm, and most significantly, wet.

‎‏‏‎

Your cheeks burn and you claw at the covers that he scoots down to his knees. Urge burns at the fresh memory as you look over the medium sized tattoo that was painted on his right thigh. Only do you have to physically shake your head to disregard what the very erotic version of you had done to it in your dream.

‎‏‏‎

Gaz takes a moment to collect himself after being awoken in such a chaotic way.

‎‏‏‎

His voice was so groggy and it made you feel dirty. “Are you okay, babe?” and no, it wasn’t a filthy type of dirty. You’re more than sure that this was what it felt like to be dirty for one specific person. Specially for him.

‎‏‏‎

He calls you babe in endearment, having known you for long was a gift to comfort. It was nothing out of the usual nor was his intrusion.

‎‏‏‎

Trying not to sound irritated, you subtly scoot over to the left side of the bed as you huff from your nose and swallowed your nervousness to give him an answer. “I’m fine… i’m just tired of that damn alarm.”

‎‏‏‎

He chuckles at the defeated tone in your voice. You try not to stare too hard as he leans back in his palms, naturally emphasizing the brown and smooth muscles of his arms. “What were you dreaming about this time?”

‎‏‏‎

You roll your eyes. “This time?”

‎‏‏‎

The way he looks at you with tired eyes and an equally tired smile tells you everything. Gaz was doing that thing again where he knew something that you should’ve— but didn’t. Maybe it was some amusing little game that he did merely for the reactions you’d give him.

‎‏‏‎

Maybe it was the way you were biting the corner of your lip. Or maybe it was the way your eyes stayed glued to his lips, waiting for him to say what he implicated. Or lastly, it could merely just be his very own form of torture.

‎‏‏‎

“You said some things…” he lingers, waiting for a reaction which you did your best to hide.

‎‏‏‎

“Like…” you wave your hand, coaxing him to continue. ‎‏‏‎

His eyes fall and look over his old oversized teeshirt that you were wearing until they find yours.

‎‏‏‎

“You have to get over here if you want to know” he was speaking so slow that it wouldn’t be foolish for you to assume that his throat was tainted with golden honey, slowing down his syllables in your grace, for your internal pleasure.

‎‏‏‎

As much as you’d like to see what this new deep and groggy tone could whisper to you, something inside of you was too scared and far too prideful to give in… just yet.

‎‏‏‎

“You get over here”

“Oh, thats how want it?”

‎‏‏‎

You swivel, nearly giving the both of you whiplash as he made his way over to your side of the bed. So much was happening at once and your brain momentarily short circuits when he thigh pressed against yours. Your dirty mind tells you that he’s so close— close enough to lean in and kiss the length of your neck, just as you dreamt.

‎‏‏‎

“Gaz, don’t say it like that.”

‎‏‏‎

“Say it like what?” you swallow and lift your chin to dare him to ask that again. The way his british yet suave accent worked was truly a blissful curse. Gaz’s words always seemed like they meant more and they dragged, pulling you to believe that he was really never finished. That accent was a problem.

‎‏‏‎

And another problem is the fact that you never got to hear it in your erotic dreams about him.

‎‏‏‎

‎‏‏‎ Your jaw twists and your eyes locked with his brown and dotting ones. He smells like linen and cinnamon, thanks to your clean sheets and the arguably smelly holiday candles that the hyper side of you insisted on buying. Apple cinnamon wasn’t the best but he’s always told you, ‘if you like it, I love it’

‎‏‏‎

“You’re stupid.”

‎‏‏‎

And his eyes harden.

“Was it my voice that did it?”

‎‏‏‎

Your eyes divert to the puffy comforter surrounding you. A thumping intensifies but it’s hard to decipher if its the one in your chest or the lewd one between your thighs.

‎‏‏‎

‎‏‏‎

Since you’ve met him, he’d always been really observant and even had his impressive moments of intuition but it was only recently that you realized that he had a talent for reading people— specifically you.

‎‏‏‎

He’d know when you were hungry and even would invite himself in your room after you’d been pouting all day like a sad little ghost. He’d know when someone at work made your day a little harder. Gaz always knew.

‎‏‏‎

Coming home and throwing yourself into his muscled frame was truly your peace. You knew that, and everyone else did. More people knew Gaz than he could imagine. Just from the way you described him in perfect detail was always good enough for them to instantly tell that he was the guy you were referring to. Even if he was just out and having himself a decent meal, a friend would call you and ask if the brown british man at their job was the same Kyle you fawned over.

‎‏‏‎

To you, he was everything irritating and special.

‎‏‏‎

“You don’t need to be shy. I told you- you can tell me anything”

‎‏‏‎

Yea but, friends dont just admit to having wet dreams about each other, Kyle.

‎‏‏‎

“…No” you cross your arms and turn your head to the window.

‎‏‏‎

He quirks an eyebrow, staring at the side of your head. “No what?

‎‏‏‎

The weight of embarrassment tugs at your shoulders and it breaks a heavy sigh out of your lips. Even if you’re an adult with a need for sex, it was still so inevitably embarrassing to admit.

‎‏‏‎

“Hey- look at me…” and surely but slowly, your eyes bounce to the floor, to the sheets, and finally to his puffy eyes. He still had that freshly awoken look to him and it was undeniably cute on him. The corner of his lips quirk into a small smile, one that wasn’t teasing you like it usually does.

‎‏‏‎

“I told you that it was fine… and that it’s even flattering”

“Gaz” you shake your head to turn away but his gentle hand was quick to catch it right when a beam of the sun grazed over your glossy pupil.

‎‏‏‎

“Let me finish”

‎‏‏‎

He doesn’t falter under your stare and kept talking, his morning voice rocks the depths of your stomach like a stormy tide as you did your best to ignore the way he was holding you so closely.

‎‏‏‎

You were in his T-shirt.

He was in your bed, holding your face and telling you that things weren’t as bad as they seemed.

‎‏‏‎

The air felt intimate, like vanilla and silk.

‎‏‏‎

“Im not teasing you, alright? I just think that…” and he suddenly stopped to ponder, momentarily looking down at the comforter covering the both of you. When his hand falls from your face, you swear you can feel your complexion leaving in an instant.

‎‏‏‎

Your eyebrows pinch and you fight the sway of nausea that your stomach grants. “Gaz… i’m sorry—”

‎‏‏‎

His eyes lock with yours again and his lip rises again, in a different type of smirk this time. Infatuation and need got the best of him, causing him to lurch forward.

‎‏‏‎

He knew that this would probably be the best time to just show you what he wanted to say for the last couple of weeks. For a moment, you’re winded but the hidden nervousness within you finds itself leaving in an instant. The first thing you could feel other than the stop of your heart was the fact that had lips that were softer than you had anticipated. It’s scary to take it this far with the man you secretly loved more than a best friend or a roommate, but your stomach flutters in pleasantry.

‎‏‏‎

The strength of this man makes you moan into his mouth. He’d gone through so much in his life for the sake of others, it was truly admirable. Gaz was brave and he was immensely intelligent. He knew everything you were thinking and he always knew, just like you said. Even though it’s a little naive to imagine, you swear his lips were specially made for you. The softness and the tenderness of it all makes for immeasurable need, so you quickly find yourself throwing a leg over his.

‎‏‏‎

Gaz doesn’t miss a beat and took both of your soft thighs into his calloused hands, moving you to sit higher on his lap as your tongue entered the warmth of his mouth.

‎‏‏‎

Like a starved man, his hands go out of bounds, feeling at the supple flesh of your behind as you moan and grind into him. “Fuck” his voice caused yet another pulse below your waist. He told himself that he’d behave and take it slowly. He told himself that he’d kiss you and wait however long for the next part but the years and mountains of longing crumble with each movement of your hips.

‎‏‏‎

“Gaz” you whine, writhing in the strong arms of the man underneath you. But he can’t hold himself back and found himself lost within you. Your body and your voice possess him, turning him into a mess that his past flings could never do no matter what they tried.

‎‏‏‎

Nothing ever seemed hard with you. It was so natural that the little naive voice in his head told him that his body was made for you, or better yet,

‎‏‏‎

that you were made for him.

‎‏‏‎ scratches head in sucks in writing smut😓 ah i never write smut, dont bully me

#call of duty imagines #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #call of duty #cod fluff #call of duty smut #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #cod gaz x reader #gaz x reader #kyke garrick x reader #gaz garrick x reader

[burnedbyshoto]

the bodyguard

— Kirishima gets assigned to be the bodyguard to one of the worlds greatest idols: you. —

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pairing: bodyguard!kirishima eijirou x idol!reader

warnings: nsfw, 18+, brat taming, authority kink, spanking, blowjob, slapping, choking, brat taming, brat!reader, modern!au, no quirks, bodyguard!kirishima, idol!reader, PTSD portrayal, anxiety, war flashbacks, implied minor character death, drugging, alcohol consumption, size difference: kirishima is 2 feet taller than you, regardless of the reader’s original height. If you’re 6 ft congrats he’s 8 ft.

word count: 20,500

a/n: this is for the bnharem collab.... im so sorry, it’s 4:30 am and I have a plane to catch in 2 hours to get back to school. thank you jo for proofreading this for me because lol I am a mess. if the paragraph spacing did not work as I wish it does, please let me know so I can go in and edit in visible paragraph spacers!

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“I’ll be okay.”

The smell of dirt, sweat, and blood clung to the air.

The sun was setting, its blood-red shine illuminating against the destroyed earth, making the already bloodied soil even bloodier. 

There was no telling if the land was quiet, if the reason why the world's silence was because the world just for this moment had gone silent, or if the earlier explosions were still ringing in his ears.

Kirishima sat wounded, his back pressed to the wall, his eyes wide, breathing erratic. He can’t move, can’t bother picking up the gun that lays abandoned by his knee as warm, sticky liquid spills onto his clothed knees and continues to soak the fabric of his jeans.

What had he done?

What in the fucking world had he done?!

BOOM!

Kirishima stills, his eyes stilling on the floor and looking at the clear moisture. He doesn’t need to touch his face to know it’s a combination of both sweat and tears. 

His ears sing with white noise, the erratic beat of his heart, and his pained breathing.

“I’ll be okay,” the ghost taunts his mind.

But I’m not okay, Kirishima tries to speak, but knows with how his tongue is sitting like a thick dried sponge in his mouth, he won’t be able to speak. Pushing off the cold floor, flops onto his back, his arm flinging over his closed, shaken eyes until the ringing in his ear disappears into his alarm clock. 

05:30.

Kirishima lays there for a bit more, his chest still heaving heavily with the weight of lead.

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Better?

No, not yet.

Kirishima runs through breathing exercises, his chest never stopping in it’s hiccuped, broken pants as his memories continue to haunt his mind. If only he was smarter, more observant, better.

“Time to get up, time to get up, time to get up,” his phone screams with his second alarm set at 06:45. The sound does what it’s intended, jolting Kirishima out of his own head. His labored breathing shallowing just enough for his lungs to finally grasp ahold of its required function.

Today was an important day for him; he needed to be on his tiptop game, according to what Toshinori said yesterday.

I’m okay, he convinced himself as he does every morning after having this dream. Kirishima flings his arm off his eyes, the morning purple sun shining softly through his blinds. I’m okay.

Date: 4/2 Time: 08:00 Location: UA Services

“And in other news, music industries princess Y/n has been attacked by yet another round of masked perpetrators. Fortunately for the music idol, she was left unhurt but was clearly rattled. This is but the fourth attack on Y/n since three weeks ago. It’s leaving many of us fans, spectators, and civilians wondering just what is being done to ensure her safety? Y/n is reported to not have a single bodyguard to her name, wanting to quote-on-quote ‘experience her fans to the fullest’, but with these recent attacks, we can’t help but hope something is done. At least until something is done about these attackers—”

Kirishima’s eyes tore away from the screen, his lips pressed into a deep frown as he took in the story. There was deep worry about it, not only because he hated the idea of people getting hurt, but because he was a big fan of yours.

Your debut album had come out during his training camp for the military. Not only was it an instant billboard smasher breaking every standing record, but his commanding officers were obsessed with the album and played it continuously until they graduated. Most of Kirishima’s comrades came to dislike your music solely because they remember throwing up, bleeding, and suffering while you sang about love and whatnot, but Kirishima? Kirishima fell in love.

It was a bright spot in his life, and he was grateful for your music, even if it has been ten years and six albums since the training camp.

“Yo, Kiri!” a voice cheered out happily as a hand clasped onto his shoulder from behind. Kirishima held the flinch that threatened to rip through his bones. Kirishima turned to find Kaminari grinning up at him, a cup of steaming tea in one hand as he grinned brightly at his coworker. “I heard you’re finally getting a good case today!”

Kirishima found himself relaxing at the sight of his rather spontaneous friend, a warm smile easing onto his face as he raised his fist for a greeting fist bump.

“We’ll see, I know Toshi’ said it was going to be important, but he also said escorting the paranoid old lady was important,” Kirishima sighed, his smile softening a bit.

Kaminari laughed, his arm slinging around Kirishima’s shoulders as he remembered that.

The little old lady was sure that the government was out to kill her and wanted protection until her son returned from his vacation. Needless to say, Kirishima had thoroughly enjoyed his time with her, even if she was a bit scary. It was a low-risk job, and he only was paranoid by her cane, which she used to thwack his back many times as she talked about how plums extended your life.

“God, I remember subbing in for you for one hour because of your family emergency, and she was so scary! She still haunts my nightmares!” Kaminari shudders, placing the cup of his tea to his lip and taking a long, slow drink. His eyes shift over to the TV, which is still broadcasting the story of your attack. “What a bunch of bastards,” he growls, eyebrows scrunching as the news reporter ends the segment. “Thinking they can go after such a beautiful and talented idol… I’ll kill them.”

Kirishima was more than well aware of Kaminari’s plentiful budding romances. The blond man fell in love with just about any smiling woman who happened to waltz in front of him. Still, unlike most times, he found himself agreeing with him.

“It sounds really serious. I hope that she really considers some type of security team,” Kirishima inputs too, taking the teacup in his fingers with a nod of thanks. “There’re too many weirdos in Japan and in the world, I wouldn’t want to hear the news the day something bad happens.”

Kaminari hums, his face nearing Kirishima’s as he takes a small sip of the apparently black tea. His eyes scrunch, and Kirishima smiles awkwardly as the blond studies him intently.

“W-Wha—”

“You like Y/n!” Kaminari exclaims (accuses, maybe?), his arm leaving Kirishima’s shoulders as he points a finger accusingly at him. “I thought I was the only one in this department who did!”

“Don’t be an idiot, Denki,” the familiar voice of Sero responds for Kirishima. “Everyone in the world is in love with Y/n; she was voted the favorite artist of the year in our company. Everyone but Bakugou voted for her if I remember correctly.”

Kirishima looks over at his black-haired friend who is rummaging through his locker, his mouth curved into an easy, teasing smile as he looks between the bashful Kaminari and sneering Bakugou, who also seemed to just walk in.

“Her shit is basic and overrated,” Bakugou defended himself. “Nothing special and bad for your brain and ears.”

“Your go-to music playlist is fifty percent death metal and alt. rock. I don’t think you have ground to say that it’s bad for your brain and ears,” Midoriya’s snicker sounded from behind Kirishima, and he looked around to see the freckled man grinning at the snarling ash blond.

“And how does your stalker ass know that, shitnerd?!”

“‘Cause I’m a stalker, duh.”

“Oh, Bakugou-kun, Midoriya-kun! You’re both here! Todoroki-kun is looking for you!”

“I’m just saying that Y/n’s dates to all the award shows and premieres have been blond. She’s into blonds, so she would totally be into me!”

“Deku, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to kill you myself.”

“You wouldn’t even be able to protect Y/n, bro. The only thing you performed well on in the application process was the tasing part. You can’t even tase people repetitively! She’d be dead in a second.”

“Can you believe my client dropped me because I couldn’t cook a five-star meal correctly? Hello, I can make 7-11 into a five-star course; it’s not my fault they’re not refined.”

“Kirishima-kun, are you okay?”

“I deadass got into a dance competition on the way to work. That’s why I’m late, why would I lie? Of course, I had to compete; my reputation was on the line!”

“Kirishima-kun?”

“Yo, he’s not looking too hot?”

“Kirishima?!”

“Can you hear us?!”

Silence.

Kirishima found himself opening his eyes — when had he closed them? For a moment, the air turned coppery, his body feeling weak, and he thought he felt something heavy on his lap. But that wasn’t right; he was standing up, he wasn’t sitting down. Most importantly, he was in Tokyo, Japan. He was alright. He was safe.

The sweat that clung to the back of his neck was cold, clammy, and intrusive. His chest felt tight again, his hands shaking so harshly the tea's warm, dark liquid was sloshing onto the floor.

There were seven pairs of eyes on him, each a different color, each swimming with concern and other emotions. Kirishima knew his ears weren’t working right now, his face unable to meet his brain's screaming demands to smile, and he watched as their mouths moved as they questioned his sanity.

He was okay.

He was okay.

He was okay.

“Kirishima?”

Kirishima looked up, his neck craning to the side to see a tall, skinny man standing at the doorway. 

Toshinori Yagi was an esteemed bodyguard, one of the best in the industry, which was saying something considering that most bodyguards went unknown and unnamed. According to Google, Toshinori gained the nickname All Might after saving multiple political and celebrity lives when the government could not. It was long after his prime, and the man had retired but has since filled as the company’s head — thus why this job was near impossible to get.

Kirishima heaved a breath, realizing that he hadn’t taken a single breath when Toshinori’s bruised eyes narrowed in his concern.

“C-Coming,” Kirishima smiled, the blood rushing to his ears mostly ignorable now, but the scorching concerned gazes of his friends feel like cinders on his shoulder.

He straightens his tie, fingers curling when he feels the cold sweat penetrating through his clothes, but Kirishima doesn’t let it show. Smiling like he does, Kirishima pushed through his friends and followed Toshinori out the door.

They walked down towards the conference rooms, rooms that held their contractors, in complete silence.

“This is an important case,” Toshinori began, his voice gentle and poorly hiding his concern. “I chose you because you are a great asset to have, Kirishima. You are strong and smart, and most importantly, are personable.”

Kirishima looked at the man, his face contorting with his anxiety. He didn’t want to be treated like glass.

“Honestly, you being so personable is why I chose you for this assignment. Todoroki-shounen was a contender at first, but he’s not much of a talker; the same goes for Bakugou-shounen. Midoriya-shounen was probably the best choice, but there’s a new assignment that asked for three, so I gave up those three,” Toshinori explained the current assignments. It both delighted Kirishima to hear that he could keep up with arguably the three most qualified workers here as it did, at times, make him feel lesser. 

“Oh.”

But he was obviously not the first choice still.

“The only reason why you weren’t the first choice is because of what I walked into just now,” Toshinori interrupts Kirishima’s thoughts and words. Kirishima finds his eyes tearing away from the smooth, polished wood floor to see Toshinori stopping in front of Conference Room A, his gaze intense on him. “To be frank, I wasn’t too sure if we should have hired you all that time ago. You are excellent on the field, your skills are phenomenal. Something to be proud of, truly, but you are clearly not completely healed from your time on the force.”

“Toshinori—”

“Kirishima-shonen, I’m not saying that there’s shame in your current struggles,” Toshinori once again interrupts, his hand a soothing warmth on Kirishima’s shoulder. “I’m still not healed from my past injuries, and as many people have undoubtedly told you, it’s okay to not be okay. But you barely passed the psych evaluation and only passed your field training because you scored so phenomenally on the other things your lack of a shooting score passed you.”

Kirishima felt unable to look away from the piercing blue eyes, and the lump in his throat never tasted as bitter, as sad.

He had barely passed the admittance test.

“I just need to know, are you ready to take on this assignment?” Toshinori asks in complete seriousness. “It’s a high stake, big-name client. We do not expect anything untoward to happen, but we never know in these cases. I think highly of you, Kirishima-shonen, and if you are ready to take this on, I’ll believe you, but likewise, if you’re not, I will gladly give this to someone else.”

Kirishima swallowed, his dry tongue passing through his equally dry lips.

Without question, he was not okay, not when he nearly broke down twice in a matter of hours, but it was just a bad day. He wasn’t as shaken as he was two months ago; he was going to his mandated therapy, talking to people who could assist him. Kirishima just didn’t want to be treated like glass anymore; he wasn’t glass; he was an unbreakable force.

Steeling over his nerves and ignoring how his stomach twisted and turned, Kirishima raised his gaze to Toshinori.

“I can do it.”

A smile.

“Good.”

If Kirishima was sweating because he was on a mental slip earlier, he was now sweating because he was beyond petrified and embarrassed. His hands raised up to brush against his red spikey hair, praying to God that it didn’t look dumb. His legs bounced at a speed that was bordering insanity, but he could only hear the sound of his racing heart as he stared at your frowning form from across the table.

It was you — the Y/n, the world's biggest music idol, an absolute legend in the making.

“This is our very own Kirishima Eijirou, age twenty-eight. He has been with U.A.Services for approximately six months now and is without a doubt one of our most capable and well-serviced men,” Toshinori began the introduction to the three people on the other side of the table. Kirishima could feel a blush rising up his neck and settling into his cheeks as what he presumed to be you, your manager, and your lawyer shuffling through paperwork that was very thorough on his background. “He was enlisted in the military before joining our ranks and was honorably discharged at the age of twenty-six as First Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou due to extreme injury. He excels in negotiating, scouting, and is, as you know, a skilled close combatant and was skilled in handguns—”

“I don’t think he’ll need firearms,” you interrupt, a frown on your face in contrast to the bright smile Kirishima was so used to seeing on your face. He tensed in worry.

“Y/l/n!” your manager, Sato Kimiko, scolded.

“What? It’s true! We’ll be around my fans for the majority, if not all the time! How is that right? For him to have a firearm around defenseless, and may I add, harmless individuals?!” you argued, your eyebrows scrunching in your fury.

Kirishima felt frozen in his chair, his eyes seeking Toshinori for guidance, but found himself unable to look away from you. He knew nearly everything about you, he could admit with a proud grin that he was a super mega fan of you, and he might have, at one point, looked your height up to imagine how you would appear beside him. Kirishima had known this entire time that you were two feet shorter than him, but it hadn’t hit what that meant until he was shaking your hand when he first entered.

You were tiny.

His dick and mind really liked that, and seeing your own passion spilling out for your fans was making him fall deeper into this hole he had for you.

“You don’t have a say anymore? Do you understand? You were nearly assaulted yesterday, and we are all done waiting around for something serious to happen!” Kimiko yelled, her face contorted into a look of both frustration and fear. “Either you take this, or we all leave you. I won’t have you murdered in front of me! You’re twenty-six now, stop acting like a damn brat and grow the hell up!”

The words scorched the table, blistering heat filling the conference room as you met Kimiko’s glare.

Kirishima watched with a dropped jaw as your nostrils flared, your lips pursing, and your eyebrows furrowing with unspoken distaste and anger.

“Six months tops.”

“Uh, yes,” Toshinori interjected. “Our contracts only last up to six months for new clients, but if you find yourself wanting to extend your contract after those six months, we are very much open to negotiations.”

You nodded your head, your eyes falling back onto the booklet in your hands that exposed all the information available on Kirishima. From his likes, dislikes, to his allergies and the reason why he was discharged. Each in disturbingly deep detail to make sure all things were up on the table.

“So, you can’t shoot your gun, Kirishima-san?” you speak, your voice tight, a pleased, almost taunting tone.

Kirishima stills, embarrassment bubbling in his chest as you drop the booklet onto the table, exposing his military history to him and you. 

“...no,” Kirishima answers truthfully.

The lawyer shifts from the other side of you, his eyebrows scrunching as he too comes across that piece of information. 

“He won’t use firearms?” the lawyer scoffs, his semi-permanent frown deepening. “How will we know that he will keep Y/n completely safe from any sort of danger that may come her way? We’ll be paying six months for a glorified security guard? We want a bodyguard.”

“And we clearly have one,” you snap back, your eyes narrowing. “If my bodyguard isn’t Kirishima-san, I’m not getting one. I mean, isn’t that what you said earlier?”

“When we were assuming that the person Toshinori was assigning to your case was a well-rounded bodyguard. Not one that was still clearly haunted by his past.”

Fuck, that one hurt.

You scowled, your head tilting as you bared your teeth slightly, “And what? He managed to get into the best agency in all of Japan in spite of that. Sounds like he’s competent. I already told you I won’t take on a team, just one individual. I trust in Toshinori-san’s guidance and his choice in picking Kirishima-san. If you disagree, that’s too bad for you.”

“Y/n! Please stop this! You’re being ridiculous!” Kimiko huffed, slamming her own booklet down, her eyes drowning with her exhaustion. “I’m so sorry, Toshinori-san, Kirishima-san.”

“H-Hey, it’s okay!” Kirishima immediately imputed, his hands raising in a sign of retreat. “I know that Y/n has always enjoyed her independence as a solo star, and how me being involved now is imposing, especially after multiple attacks.”

Kirishima felt that his smile was a bit strained, a bit too forced, especially as your eyes hawked onto him. He felt like you were examining him, like a lab rat going through its initial trial and not knowing just what was to be expected.

“Six months?” you spoke, your gaze not leaving Kirishima’s own.

“Six months,” Kirishima agreed.

You hum, your head nodding. “Fine, six months tops unless the Lieutenant Colonel can apprehend these assholes faster.”

It had been ages since Kirishima had been called by his title, and for some reason, he found himself blushing. His mouth, for the first time this entire meeting, curled into a wolfish grin.

“You got it.”

The lawyer groaned, entirely aggravated and insulted. He stood up, “You’re asking to be murdered, Y/n. Don’t come haunting me when you end up dead and mutilated. You deserve all the shit you’re getting.”

Kirishima watched with his lips parted in a bewildered expression as the lawyer walked out of the room with a loud slam of the door.

You were unfazed, and Kimiko groaned, exhausted and embarrassed as she mumbled a weak, sullen, “I am so, so sorry, Toshinori-kun.”

“Ah, Kimiko-chan, it’s okay!” Toshinori shook his head and smiled knowingly. It wasn’t as if the long time famous bodyguard hadn’t seen his fair share of childish fights between clients. “Thank you for coming as always, and we’ll do our best to make sure that Y/n is in the best of hands.”

“Thank you… and so, the rest of the contract?”

“Ah, yes, let’s continue.”

So, the contract was discussed to full detail.

For six months, Kirishima would be attached to your side. He must always remain at most three meters away from you when there is no one around, and during fan interactions no more than one meter. He had a full say about your safety. If things got rough, you were to follow his every command. Your agency would pay for his room and lodging. He was to wear black pants and a black long-sleeved cotton tee. He would be working with every venue, every hotel, every conventions security team. He would lead them and never leave your side. He was to be awake an hour before you, rest when you were asleep so long as it was safe to do so. He was your guardian angel of sorts, and you would do nothing but adhere to him. 

Most importantly, according to Kimiko, there was one thing they were hoping for: Kirishima's help and discretion. For the next six months, they would be relying on Kirishima’s support to figure out who the group behind the assault was and who the mastermind was behind it all is.

Or so the contract said.

“Y/n!” Kirishima called when the papers were signed, and the day he was set to start was printed. He will begin tomorrow. “Wait!”

You stopped at the door, Kimiko and Toshinori chatting merrily between them as they exited the conference room, Toshinori’s booming voice asking if it was true that Kimiko was attending to a near forty clients to which she bashfully admitted to. You were dressed in a creme knit long-sleeved shirt, faded ripped jeans, and a pair of nude heels. The heels were big, undoubtedly giving you inches, but you still barely got to his shoulder.

“I-I’m looking forward to looking — I mean working with you!”

You looked at him closely, your eyes dragging to the top of his toes to the tallest spike in his hair before your lips pulled into a contemplative pout. You looked back to his eyes, and you steeled over, your head tilting to the side.

“I mean no offense, Sergeant, I thank you for doing your job, but I have no intention of looking forward to working with you. I don’t want you here, so do your best to ignore the contract and realize that I am the most important person, so you will follow my demands.”

Kirishima can do nothing but stare as you turn on your heel and leave.

Well, so much for a good case.

Date: 5/2 Time: 14:00 Location: Tokyo Music Stadium

If you would have told Kirishima Eijirou that he had been working for the grand, the perfect, the fantastic music idol Y/n for a month now, two months ago, he would have laughed so hard he’d cry. Not only would he have not believed it, but he would only think of a million and two scenarios where he would go the entire day flirting.

Now a month into knowing you, of being your bodyguard on a contract for six months, Kirishima could say that of that entire thought, the only thing he had been right about was that he was, in fact, crying. Not only has he never managed to speak an entire conversation with you despite being attached to your hip seven days a week, but despite your much shorter stature, you had managed to get away from him.

You always managed to sneak away from him.

Kirishima could admit that the no more than five meters rule had been wholly and utterly demolished.

And now, Kirishima was crying, not out of joy, but of pure manly fear as he raced through the backstages of the stadium, desperate to find your short-ass anywhere.

“Go, Kirishima!” someone yelled as Kirishima whizzed past him, “Find Y/n!”

“T-Thank you!” Kirishima screamed as he continued onward, the yellow-lit concrete hallway seemingly haunting the further he went into it. The earpiece in his left ear shrilled, the telling sign he was getting a call. Putting a finger to the circle in his ear, he answered the car. “Hello?!”

“Ah, Kirishima-san!” Kimiko’s voice chirped on the other side of the line. “Wonderful to hear your voice again! I’m calling to let you know that the tour bus is parked outside of the venue now. The concert was a smashing success, and she’s come out unharmed for the past month! To make matters even better, since your arrival, there have been no more assault attempts! Oh, um, sorry, where are you guys?”

“We’re just, um!” Kirishima tried not to pant into the microphone; he was still racing ahead, his head peeking into every door and room he passed. “Y/n needed to use the restroom?!”

“Oh, wonderful. Okay! Let me know when you two are on your way over!”

“Ya, okay, bye!”

“By—”

Kirishima hung up as he crashed through the doors at the end of the hallway.

It was night out right now, the full moon reflecting down on the dirty concrete with the same intensity as the streetlamps overhead. And in the middle of a crowd of around twenty people was the person Kirishima was trying to find: you.

You were still dressed in the final costume change of your concert. Even from a distance, Kirishima could see the glitter and highlight on the tip of your nose and the curve of your cheekbones. The crowd around you was clearly not hostile. Each face was bright with broad smiles and sparkling with fresh tears, each voice high and pitchy as if they were talking with some goddess and not you. 

There was a slight longing in Kirishima’s chest at the sight of you interacting with your fans, your smile was so beautiful, and he wished just for a moment that he was the one that it was directed towards. If he had met you as a fan, and only a fan, he wonders if you would look at him as you did the others. Would he see the pure joy in the depths in your eyes, the love, wonder, and pride as they asked you questions and answered your own?

He wanted to be just a fan.

“Y/n, the tour bus is here,” Kirishima finally found his voice, the tenor of his voice spreading through the narrow alleyway. “Say your goodbyes.”

He had to ignore the way you stiffened immediately, the unsolicited joy in your face breaking and becoming bleak as you met his gaze. Kirishima absolutely did not feel pressure behind his eyes when you rolled your eyes and began to say your goodbyes; he did not!

The group of fans waved goodbye as you walked backward toward Kirishima; you didn’t stop waving and continuing your parting conversations with the group until the metal doors of the stadium doors closed behind the two of you. Kirishima let out a sigh, his eyes closing for a brief moment before looking down at you. You were expressionless, eyes cold as you looked dead ahead.

“You’re not supposed to run away like that.”

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t tell me what to do, Sergeant.”

“You know I can’t do that it’s not—”

“Part of your contract. Yeah, I know, but that’s your contract, not mine.”

“Oh, okay. Um, Kimiko? ...yeah, we’re heading out now. Five minutes, till.”

And then there’s only silence.

Neither Kirishima nor you bother talking the entire walk towards the tour bus, and you ignore Kimiko’s call that your lawyer would be meeting briefly before tomorrow's fan signing event. You walk into the bus and go directly to the beds, throwing yourself into the terribly padded bunk and passing out without so much as a sound.

Kirishima sinks into his own bed, it’s too small for him, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Sleep overcomes him easily these days; he’s always way too exhausted in chasing you down like some spoiled toddler you’re behaving like to dream. But that’s okay, he thinks as the comfort of sleep begins to dig its skeleton fingers into his side, at least the exhaustion stops the night terrors.

Date: 5/3 Time: 10:00 Location: Tokyo Music Tower

Now, Kirishima knew that it was a common belief and a nearly proven theory that when you met your idols, you should never ever have your expectations high on who they are as a person. Celebrities were out of touch, cruel, rude, nearly jaded. They weren’t exactly the common folk. With people willing to forget things like them being human beings themselves or the common thread of celebrities being too rich to care, any type of famous person was cold, rude, and ruthless.

He knew that.

He also knew that you weren’t like the nearly proven theory.

You were kind, sweet, a practical angel to anyone who dared to approach you. You were the exception to the rule, an outlier to them all. You spoke politely to all your fans, domestic and foreign, and you treated each fan like the most special person in the world.

You were a good person.

But Kirishima knew, just as you reacted to any cruel person you encountered, you had an edge. Your words were as vicious as your name was known. He genuinely enjoyed watching you put assholes into place, but he sulked, knowing he was always at the receiving end of the sharp, bitter tongue of yours.

For a month and a day now, he had been the number target of your bitter words and scorching hate, but he admitted that he enjoyed it when it wasn’t directed at him, if but a little bit.

“I’m not renegotiating my contract!” you groan, your palms slamming into the depths of your eyes. “I already told you that I don’t need all that money!”

“And I’m telling you that you need to increase the wages that you pay the rest of your team instead of all those charities or else people will begin dropping you!” the lawyer countered with similar fire, his scowl angry enough that Kirishima felt like he had to tear his gaze away from this horrible battle. “You won’t be the best of the best forever, y/n, get over your stupid savior act and look over the changes!”

Kirishima looked over at you, his eyebrows pinching as he watched you fold your arms, your cheeks pushed out to a puff as you looked at the stack of papers with the title page fully covered with the word Contract of Y/n and Co. on it. Well, it seemed that the rumor of you spending your paycheck on things that weren’t you was right, how entirely manly.

“Oh fuck off,” you growl, pushing out of the chair and storming away.

Kirishima glanced over at Kimiko, who was looking pale and exhausted, undoubtedly exhausted from the past thirty-minute battle between the lawyer and the idol that neither made a single step forward nor a step back. How you had the energy to fight so passionately was beyond him. Kimiko nodded minimally, her lips parting in a sigh as Kirishima stood up and followed after her.

“The only way that brat is going to listen is by force,” the lawyer sneered, his voice fading into the room that Kirishima exited. “If that’s how she wants to play, so be it.”

Fortunately for Kirishima, he catches up to you. There are tears of fury dripping down your cheeks, and he feels unable to speak as he discovers a new layer to you.

...how interesting.

“It’s my money,” you speak, but Kirishima is unsure if those words are meant for him or for the void, the earth that you would much rather converse with than him. “I already pay them all a much greater paycheck than they should be getting considering their client pool. Why do I have to bend to their stupid will when I’m the one making the money.”

Kirishima blinks, wondering just what people might want to raise with their contracts. But, he knew you were right. By her account, Kimiko had a client list of many successful individuals, and he may not know anything about the lawyer, but if he worked with Y/n, his name must be good. Guess they weren’t like you.

“People are selfish assholes,” was the only thing that Kirishima could think of, and was something he spoke before he could stop himself.

But you stop in your storm, the anger that clouded you somewhat dissipating, clearing just enough for you to turn to him, your sharp, beautiful eyes for the first time filled with rage that was not pointed at him, and an emotion that made him think of… amusement?

“Yeah,” you agree, a half-smile cracking onto your face, and Kirishima feels his soul begin leaving his very body. “People are selfish assholes, huh?”

“Very much.”

There’s a calm, a snorted chuckle, and Kirishima finds himself stumbling further into the abyss of his feelings for you.

The next ten hours seem to pass in a blur, Kirishima feeling like he was on Cloud Nine as he stood behind you, three meters as he watched fan after fan approach you. Signatures were made, pictures were taken, and Kirishima found that he never once had to approach.

Maybe, he thinks, just perhaps, the two of you can overcome this.

Ten minutes after the official signing is done, Kirishima can’t find you, and he curses loudly into the echoing floor.

So much for change.

Date: 5/17 Time: 23:00 Location: The Parking Lot - Mt. Lady Studios

Kirishima was, for the lack of better words, completely fucking done with you.

Don’t get it wrong, he still was a complete and massive fan of yours. He would never once betray his loyalty to you and your musical career, but he was slowly starting to realize just why the lawyer was set to dying of a heart attack any time soon. Despite your early entrance to stardom and the stuff of legends, you had kept your fiery, stubborn individualism.

Kirishima thought it was absolutely hot and sexy at times, especially the times where you strut around in revealing clothes because ‘this is your body,’ or the lingerie campaign you completed two days ago as part of some fundraising event. There were significant perks to your strong handle and claim to keeping your indestructible personality, but it came back to rub them all back in the worst of ways when once again, you escaped from Kirishima’s side.

To be fair, most of the time, Kirishima was a very level headed individual; he was near impossible to rile up despite popular initial belief. I mean, he was good friends with Bakugou Katsuki, who riled up just about anyone he talked to! He needed to have steel calm emotions, or at the very least portray that he does. But even the unbreakable after tireless attempts can, at times, be broken.

It had been a hard morning.

Kirishima had woken up in a panic, the sweat of his night terror soaking through the sheets of his bed, and his head felt like lead. They had been in the tour bus for the entire day because you were going from the tip of Japan to the bottom of it, thus meaning that you couldn’t run away from him, concluding that when he went to bed that night, he was merely tired, not exhausted.

“K...Kiri...shima?” the voice whispered in his ears when he bolted from his bed and tumbled to the ground, his chest heaving in his panic as he cried.

He only slept for four hours that night, the ghost of his comrade haunting him too much for him to ever drift back to sleep. The only thing he was grateful for when he stumbled down to the hotel lobby for breakfast was that he had an attack while in his own room and not in a tour bus with ten others.

But the lack of sleep and the twisting of his guts from his still unburied memories meant that his exhaustion was dialed up larger than he thought was capable. Today was an interview day plus a miniconcert at said interview.

That meant that for an hour before your interview and two hours afterward, Kirishima lost you and had to hunt you down. You weren’t making it easy on him and had started moving with the crowd you gathered to evade him.

But today, Kirishima was exhausted.

Today, Kirishima wanted to sleep.

Today… Kirishima broke.

“Let’s go,” Kirishima spoke in a low, commanding voice. His eyes were hooded as he looked down at you, the crowd of fans parting like the red sea as he stands behind you, larger than life, imposing.

You ignore him.

“We’re leaving, now.”

“Aw, did you make that just for me?! This beading is gorgeous!”

To be fair, Kirishima isn’t really sure if he’s crying right now or if steam is protruding from his ears like some stupid cartoon. The only thing he knows is that it's been a bit longer than a month, and his client is the most perfect person in the world except to him and some lawyer. All he knows is that he has been continuously mocked, shamed, and disrespected by his client, and at this moment, with his mind and body aching with the memories of the morning, he can no longer stop the tsunami of emotions and thoughts that shove out of him.

He grabs your wrist and begins pulling you away.

“We’re leaving now, sorry to disrupt your time. Come see Y/n another day.”

Kirishima isn’t even aware of your screams, the banging of your small fist against his back as his hand encompasses your bicep easily. He walks and walks and walks until he stops, his mind slightly put back into place.

“—FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?! LET GO OF ME, SERGEANT!”

Oh, right.

He lets go of you immediately and nearly snorts at how you stumble into his back. So small, so delicate, and so completely weak.

“You want to know my problem, y/l/n?” he asks, voice eerily calm, much calmer than he actually is. “My fucking problem is that I signed onto this case with a single rule: keep you in sight and protect you. It’s simple, almost too easy, isn’t it? But easy and simple is everything that this assignment is!”

Your face contorted into a flash of anger and embarrassment, your nose scrunching as you found your footing, “And I told you that I don’t give a crap about that contract! I didn’t want it in the first place, but no one listens to me!”

Kirishima snorts, his body shifting so that he can look at you properly; your face is seething, your teeth bared and eyes wild, but Kirishima has faced worse.

“It’s not in my contract to listen to you, unfortunately,” Kirishima points out, his eyes narrowing. “I would have a better time listening to you, trying to find an agreement that worked if you used that brain of yours and figured out a way to compromise with me.”

“Compromises aren’t—”

“You think I wouldn’t?” Kirishima almost whines, his voice tight with emotions, fingers fisting in his hair, “You really fucking think that after a month and how many days of me spending stupid hours trying to find your ass, most of the time never knowing if you’re dead or not, I wouldn’t want a better solution?!”

“Like hell they’ll kill me! And if they do, I don’t fucking care!” you stubbornly insist, finger buried against the swell of your chest.

“Oh my god,” Kirishima can’t stop the bitter laugh from escaping, “you’re ridiculous.”

“I’m ridiculous?! I’m not the ridiculous one here!” you cry, your eyes bursting with unshed, bitter tears. “So what that I run away from you? Can you imagine living the past ten years of your life trying to be something that the media wants you to be? No! You can’t, Sergeant! Those times where I’m running away isn’t to be some dick, but to give me time to be me!”

“You’re a goddamn idiot!” Kirishima barks, his anger curdling in his chest like a raging fire. “If you had looked at my damn file correctly, instead of focusing on the stupid shit like me not being able to fire my gun correctly, you would be more than aware of the fact that you are one of my favorite artists!”

“Wh-”

“I am one of the best in my company! I am easy to get along with, personal, manageable, flexible even, but from the very first moment you laid eyes on me, you’ve hated me! You talk down on me, you shit on me, my job, the reason I’m here! Listen, I would fucking love to be anywhere but here right now. I have literally never hated my job before, but you just made that a reality. But the worst part of this all is the fact that you seem to think I would have kept you away, prohibited you from doing things that I already know you love! You stand there and tell me that I would try to force you to do shit you don’t want when I have merely been asking for you to take me there with you! I don’t care if I have to stand away and watch, but I want to be there! I’m supposed to be protecting you, but you’re being nothing more than a stubborn brat who refuses to see the efforts I’m trying to make, and frankly, I’m done.”

Kirishima’s chest is burning with the lack of oxygen, his eyes narrowed and filled with raging fire as he stares down at you, his neck craned so that he could be closer, more daunting, intimidating.

“Fuck o-off,” you snap suddenly, a lone tear, your voice tight and shoulders tense as you storm off.

“So predictable,” Kirishima calls after you, but it’s not filled with the previous anger he had but the sinking misery and regret.

And for a moment, it’s quiet.

Until a single name is screamed.

“SERGEANT!”

And then the all too familiar sound of a fist colliding with skin.

The anger in Kirishima’s blood evaporates immediately, and horror sinks in as he turns towards where you had stormed off. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

The parking lot is filled with an ugly yellow light that seems to set the stage for what was to come down. His footsteps crashing down against the black pavement were mute in his ears, and his eyes were focused on your limp body slung over somebody's shoulder. There was one person behind him, the other one already hopping into a van; Kirishima was the devil on their heels.

“Come on! Let’s go!” the one in the van screamed, his voice full of gruff apprehension and fear.

The van turns on.

Kirishima grunts, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he sidesteps the man who was lingering behind the one carrying you and quickly slams his shoulder into the man's sternum, knocking him out the moment he collapses onto the ground. 

He lets out a roar of such, his eyes glowing with anger and a single mind track to take down the person who held you, ready to throw your unconscious body into the back of the van.

Kirishima doesn’t even know when he manages to get to the man's side, one hand on his shoulder, the other on you, and with the strength and anger of a million fighting warriors, he ripped you from his hold and sent him stumbling into the trunk. Your shallow breathing brushes against his neck, and Kirishima is hyper-aware of the cursing men who chose to abandon their unconscious comrade on the floor. 

With his arms filled by your unconscious body, Kirishima can only watch the van scurry out of the lot, the license plate immediately burning into his mind.

T082-23

When the man on the floor finally wakes up, he’s in police custody, and you’re just waking up. There's a bruise on your cheek, and you begin crying immediately.

Kirishima watches from the distance, his heart aching and guilt climbing up his throat as he watches Kimiko hold you close, her arms warm and tight.

Well, shit.

So much for the month of no attacks.

Kirishima sits in a waiting room, his head relaxed against the wall as he waits for your discharge from the hospital. They suspect a concussion, and they’re running some tests right now. The police are there too, trying to get information from you on the failed kidnapping attempt as well as beginning the initial trials of interrogation of the abandoned kidnapper with a broken sternum, ruptured spleen, and three cracked ribs.

He was not surprised when the police officers came to talk to him, and he gave them the license plate.

But they also gave him an essential piece of information.

(“Well, when we asked for a motive, it seemed that it wasn’t his idea,” the detective admitted, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “His boss said that, and I quote, Y/n will end up dead and mutilated as is deserved. She deserves all the shit she has coming her way, end quote. Any ideas of who it could be”

Kirishima rubbed a hand across his face, the words striking a bit too familiarly to him, but from where. He shook his head, his eyes focusing on his bouncing knee.

“Thank you,” Kirishima said, his tone pointed in a clear indicator that this conversation was now over. The detective nodded, his frown slight as he left. The moment he was gone, Kirishima pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Kimiko? Yeah, I think we might have our first suspect.”)

For now, he was waiting for you.

An hour passed before you shuffled into the waiting room. There was a bandage on your swollen cheek, but besides the obvious attack, your eyes looked strong, and it seemed like there was no concussion.

“I should be fine,” you speak first, your jaw tensing as if it physically pained you to speak (whether it was because you hated talking to him or because of the injury, Kirishima had no idea). “I will be fine; I just need some sleep.”

Kirishima nodded, his body completely exhausted, and his mind filled with nothing but regrets on how he handled his anger earlier. He needed to apologize. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but he had definitely crossed a few too many lines.

“Should we go?”

You chewed on your lip, your eyes looking down at the white tiled floors of the hospital — so bleak, so anxiety driving.

“I actually wanted to talk before we left.”

Oh?

“Of what, if I may ask?”

Your eyes raise back up before looking away again, “the contract.”

Kirishima finds himself nodding, his hand gesturing towards the empty seat in front of him.

“Sure.”

And with a heaving sigh that sounds like you were on the verge of tears, you sit before him.

The contract was then discussed.

It was decided that you could continue to interact with fans as you wish, so long as you took Kirishima with you. He didn’t care about the long hours, the manic fans, or the impending doom of a group of people who meant business. He needed to be there.

Everything else stayed the same, but Kirishima looked at you one last time that night in the hospital, his body leaning towards you as he did his best to keep his face void of emotion and any lingering teasing.

“I’ll only accept this new negotiation on one term.”

“W-What?!” you pause, thinking. “Fine, say it.”

“From here on out, I think we should be friends, yeah? I’m on your side, after all, it’s a bit weird if we stay just acquaintances.”

The tension and horror leave your body, and Kirishima, for the first time ever, bears witness to the most relaxed, meaningful smile he has ever seen you give. It had been one hell of a shitty night, but at that very moment when the seventh turned into the eighth, Kirishima felt a new warmth flood through his chest, his heart racing at the sight of your glorious smile.

“Of course, Kirishima.”

“Oh, and y/n?” 

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry about all that I said. It was unmanly of me and out of line.”

“It’s okay. To be fair, I was a bit of a self-absorbed brat, too.”

The next day, a picture of Kirishima holding you bridal style is trending.

Date: 6/12 Time: 19:00 Location: Hime Onsen

An Interview with Y/n | Vogue Japan 4.5 million views • Premiered 2 hours ago 874k [liked this] 12.3k [disliked this] Timestamp: 05:32 / 10:33

[Interviewer]: Now, Y/n, we must congratulate you on your latest achievement! Your latest self-titled album, ‘Y/N,’ has been nominated for a record high of twelve awards for the upcoming Japan Record Awards, which will be coming up in about a month! Tell us how you feel about this?

[You]: It was quite a surprise actually! I didn’t realize that it would have done so well in the critic's eyes to get this type of award. I am proud of myself and am excited to see all the other amazing artists and musicians who were nominated as well.

[Interviewer]: Now, your album is all about staying true to yourself, whether that be in love or war. It depicts your own highs and lows while also highlighting beautifully universal things many of us face. Without question, you have always been adamant on staying connected with your fans and keeping a simple rule: no bodyguards.

[Y/n]: Oh, (laughs) yes! That is definitely a new thing, huh?

[Interviewer]: A new thing and a beautiful thing at that, too! Look here!

[captioner notes: interviewer displays many photos of Y/n’s bodyguard, including the most famous one where he’s holding y/n after the failed kidnapped attempt]

[Interviewer]: This is a beautiful — don’t giggle! — a beautiful man, Y/n! What do you have to say for yourself?! Did you finally succumb to keeping untrue to yourself for this beautiful man?! If so, it is perfectly acceptable. By chance, is your contract with him done? I would personally love to have this man on my team.

[Y/n]: (laughing) By all means, take him! (Y/n looks behind her, her bodyguard is there) I’m kidding, I’m kidding! (pauses) No, actually, sorry. Kirishima is an outstanding bodyguard, and I have no intentions of leaving him so soon. Uh, while I did say I had no wish or intentions to have a bodyguard, obviously that was not the best solution, so I hired Kirishima. He is a wonderful addition to my team and still allows me to be authentically me, so it’s still all good.

[Interviewer]: Ah, okay, well, Kirishima-kun, if you ever need a new client, call me. But moving on, yes! Would you like to discuss the series of increasingly concerning attacks?

Kirishima stood in the softly lit hallways of a sauna.

Today was one of the last remaining days you had off, and in celebration of your upcoming award season, you had decided that it was mandatory to visit the hot springs. Everyone on your team — the backup dancers, band, and hair and makeup — were ecstatic to learn that they were being involved with it too.

This high-end resort had accommodated your entire team to receive their own private spring with an all-inclusive menu too. 

It was thanks from the owner for the free PR and, of course, because they were some of your biggest fans. So, in thanks, everyone got to enjoy the springs.

Well, everyone but Kirishima, that was.

As of the past month, things between Kirishima and you had improved a lot.

With Kirishima no longer needing to run a marathon daily to find where you were, he would find himself walking at your side. He no longer felt like you hated him. There was respect and actual friendship between the two of you. You joked with him, showed him memes and TikTok, sent him snapchat streaks, and invited him to watch weird shows with you. You even complained to him about the things that annoyed you, namely Kimiko’s attention being stolen by other clients and the rude conversations you would have with the lawyer.

It made Kirishima’s chest warm up knowing that you were friends now.

A stressful month had passed into a friendlier one.

But there were some things that Kirishima would not have expected to… arise.

Namely you growing to be comfortable enough to walk around with nothing but a thin pair of panties and a large shirt. You curling into his side whenever you watched a show together in the bus, the way your lips brushed against his neck when he leaned down to hug you, or the very so not obvious teasing you would do when you changed in front of him. It was as if you were watching his every reaction, enjoying the way that his eyes horribly tore away, or the silent hitch in his throat whenever you speed his heart up.

The biggest surprise arose the night after the failed kidnapping attempt:

You had come to his room, hours after you were supposed to have fallen asleep.

Your eyes were sunken, still a bit tired, and the bruise on your cheek was looking bad. In your arms was a white binder undoubtedly filled with the introductory packet you had received at your initial meeting. Kirishima had opened the door in his sleepy state in nothing but gym shorts. He had barely started dozing off, his mind wouldn’t stop thinking of what could have happened if you hadn’t managed to scream, and so he kept tossing and turning.

Seeing you outside of his room, his head dropped down to look at you properly, and his fist rubbing at his eye fell, “Y/n?”

“Did I wake you?” you asked, your face filled with a shocked, near uncomfortable, and embarrassed expression he doesn’t recall ever seeing on you. “I’m so sorry! I’ll wait until—”

“No,” Kirishima grunts while he shakes his head, his voice raspy and dry from his lack of use. “I’ve been tossing and turning, um, what is it? Do you want to come in?”

“I-If that’s okay?”

Kirishima breathes out a bit, his shoulders relaxing as he smiles softly, “Come on, let’s talk about what’s on your mind.”

The door clicked behind your tentative steps with an echo, and Kirishima watched as you walked into the hotel room with wariness and caution.

“Would you like some tea?” Kirishima offered, picking up a shirt from his dresser and pulling it over his body. The fabric was tight against his chest and shoulders, but felt more appropriate to wear around you.

“No, I’m okay,” you politely decline.

You stood in the center of the room, unsure of where to sit, stand, or lay.

“Go ahead and make the bed,” Kirishima offered, taking the chair by the desk. “I promise it’s still clean.”

You laugh slightly, smile strained but grateful as you sit at the edge of the bed, binder resting on your lap.

“Thanks, I wouldn’t want to sit on a dirty bed,” you joke, but it sounds weak to Kirishima’s ears.

“So, what questions do you have?”

“Hm?”

“You have my portfolio,” he shrugs, leaning forward so that his forearms rest on his knees. “I have a feeling you have some questions.”

“Oh, right,” you whisper, your eyebrows scrunching as you open the binder to the first page, but your eyes are focused on the desk. “What’s the medication for?”

Kirishima turns his head to follow your gaze and comes across the yellow tinted medicine containers.

“My PTSD,” Kirishima answers honestly, his voice soft with emotion, but there was no shame in it. “My service had a difficult end.”

“That’s actually… that’s what I came to talk about,” you rush, your hands slamming the binder closed. “If you don’t want to talk about it, obviously I won’t push it! God, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay,” Kirishima interrupted, his smile sad, but he stood up, his body a tower in front of yours as he urged you to sit back down. “It’s okay; I don’t mind talking about it.”

“B-But what if I say something that makes it all worse?”

A pause.

“Then I’ll tell you that it’s too much.”

A nod.

“Are you… are you still experiencing a lot of symptoms?” you ask, your fingers tightening and untightening around the binder.

“Some days are worse than others,” Kirishima admits, his shoulders shrugging. “I don’t experience much anxiety while in crowds anymore; I don’t have many flashbacks to those days anymore, not since February at least. I do still get… I still get night terrors and dream of that day. It’s nowhere near as bad as the first few months after the accident, but it’s still here.”

“What happened?” you asked after a bit, morbidly curious.

The file had all the details that proved Kirishima to be a master of firearms during his entire time on the force. He was a powerful combatist, and his ranking was a clear indicator of the respect and skills he had. Still, it was the quick honorable discharge, the near year-long hospitalization, and the current inability to use a firearm that concerned you.

What had happened?

“I was involved in a grenade explosion on my last day on tour. I was the only one who managed to survive the blast,” Kirishima easily stated, his voice quiet.

“Oh my god, I… holy shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, it’s all good. There were only two others around, and one of them was already dead.”

“Was that um, Major—”

“We called him Crimson Riot, actually,” Kirishima smiled, a chuckle light on his tongue as he leaned back onto the chair, nodding. “Yeah, that was him.”

“Crimson Riot,” you repeat, nodding. “Did you watch him… watch him die?”

Kirishima presses his lips tightly together, and for a moment, you’re unsure if he’s going to cry, answer you, or tell you to leave. There’s a whirlwind of emotions on your optimistic and typically jubilant bodyguard despite your asshole tendencies that make your stomach twist.

“Yes,” Kirishima finally answers, and you nod.

It’s hours into the morning before you finally depart back to your room, the horrors of Kirishima’s past still pounding into your ears. Kirishima wouldn’t notice, and neither would you, but on his shirt and yours, there’s a few drops of tears the both of you shed when you said goodnight.

Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou, while on an active warzone, had accidentally struck and killed his superior officer, his friend, his role model Crimson Riot, thinking that he was nothing more than an enemy target as he sat wounded behind a wall. He died on his lap, and as someone came to help, a grenade landed two meters away before detonating.

“K...Kiri...shima?” Crimson Riot had whispered as he fell to his knees, blood gushing and seeping through his clothes, spilling onto Kirishima’s lap. “I’ll be okay.”

For whatever reason, since that night, Kirishima felt something in him shift. He still took his medication, still had his virtual therapy sessions when he could fit them in, and even had painful night terrors of that moment, but it was becoming less frequent.

He wasn’t made of glass.

There had been more instances after the kidnapping attempt, but unlike the last times, Kirishima was prepared. He had stopped each one, keeping you safe and sound. As of one week ago, he had officially been given a firearm to keep strapped to his thigh at all times now.

It was an unfamiliar weight, one that still twisted his stomach and made him nervous, but he knew the reason why it was needed. Since the gun had been added to his gear, the attacks stopped. He was definitely not ready to be firing it anytime soon, but it had deterred the attackers for the time being.

Kirishima paused when he heard his earpiece ring, and he dropped his phone where he had been watching your interview despite being there himself.

“Talk to me,” Kirishima answered, his finger pressing the accept button.

“Kirishima!” came the distressed voice of Kimiko, “We just got a tip!”

Kirishima stilled, his eyes scanning the empty hallways that stretched throughout the private hot springs.

“I don’t know, but a person with connections with this mastermind said something about how there were two more events he was staging. Today is one of them!”

Kirishima’s eyes widened, his lips parting to answer Kimiko when instead there was a large, loud crash in the water from inside your room. He assumed the worst.

“Y/n!” Kirishima shouted, hands throwing open the sliding door and racing through the storage room, the shower, and exited out into the hot spring.

Steam curled through the wind, the white wisps of steam feeling warm and light against Kirishima’s skin, and Kirishima panicked when he couldn’t see your shadow or figure in the hot springs.

“Where is she?! Is she alright?!” Kimiko panicked, her voice panicking already. “I’ll call the—”

Kirishima turned on his heel, ready to complete a full sweep of the outdoor hot spring when he crashed into something smaller than he was… smaller, softer, and definitely the shape of a woman. Kirishima felt his entire body stiffen when his rough palms felt the undeniable feeling of wet, warm skin.

“Oh my god,” he heard you shriek. “KIRISHIMA!”

“She’s all good, Kimiko,” Kirishima stifled out, his voice tight, his head slamming backward so that his eyes were concentrated on the starry night sky.

“...sorry… uh aha! Another client of mine is calling, goodbye!” Kimiko’s apology was meek and small before she hung up.

Kirishima’s mind was racing a mile a minute, but his body was frozen, unmoving like a rock when he realized that pressing to his stomach was, without a doubt, your breasts.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What are you doing in here, pervert?!” you splutter, your hands pressing to his stomach as you step away. “Are you a pervert or something?!”

“I, no! No! Of course not! Fuck, shit, I’m so sorry! I’ll go! There was a tip that something was going to happen right now, and there was a crash and—”

“What are you looking at?” you exclaim, squeaky frustration heavy on your tongue. “There’s nothing wrong with the sky! Look me in the eyes? Have you never been to a co-ed hot spring before?!”

“Y-Yes, sorry!” Kirishima apologized, bowing slightly in apology before he peered down. Still, his face bursted in a flame as he watched the way your jaw dropped in disbelief, the dewy wetness of the hot spring clinging to your body. You were, obviously, soaked, and Kirishima bit his tongue as hard as he could to keep the whimper from expelling past his lips when he saw the light gleaming off your breasts. But he watched your face shift between a million emotions, each one appearing too fast for him to read, too fast to register, but he saw the way a single-arm wrap around your breast and the other shoving into his stomach.

“PERVERT!”

“What?!”

“That was a test! This is my private room! I have the right to not be willing to be looked at right now!” you shrieked as Kirishima spun around, allowing you the complete privacy of his gaze.

“You told me to look at you!” he squawked. “Y-You told me, and I listened because of our contract!”

Kirishima could feel his body trembling, his mind reeling in disbelief that he definitely saw you in your entire nakedness, and if the swirling heat in his stomach had anything to say about it, he liked it. Fuck.

There was a soft laugh and the sound of sloshing water as you probably (he wouldn’t know because he wasn’t looking) reentered the spring.

“I know, I was teasing,” you sing, and he can tell the water is gliding around your body. “Turn around, Kiri, let’s talk.”

“Haha, um, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Kirishima admits, although sitting in this steam-filled space with just you sounds so very nice. 

“Why not?” you asked, voice sounding a bit upset.

“I’m supposed to be outside, doing my job?”

“Augh, but these private springs are so boring alone,” your voice whines; the water sloshes, and Kirishima winces at the slight throb on his tongue as he continues to look at not your direction. “Turn around, Kiri.”

Not too long ago, you had taken to calling him Kiri, a subtle change, a not unusual nickname people gave him. But just because it was you, his stomach flipped and twisted, and now with the image of your tits in mind, his dick throbbed. 

Gulping, Kirishima turned, his gaze bashfully looking down at you before glancing away. You were chest-deep in the hot springs, tendrils of your wet hair sticking to your neck. Was he dead? Maybe dreaming?

No, his dreams were never like this.

“Do you want to come in?” you continued to ask, your body moving towards him in the water until you reached the edge of the pool, arms testing into the black rocks. “You’re the only one not in one, and since I hate being in these alone, I figured you’d like to join.”

Kirishima wanted to join. More than anything, he wanted to take his clothes off and jump into the springs with you, for you, but that would be unprofessional. Entirely and utterly unprofessional.

“Please?” you ask softly, pleadingly, and Kirishima makes the mistake of locking his gaze with yours. 

“...fine, but I’ll be on the other side of the spring,” he concedes, his steps near clumsy and oafish as he stumbles backward to the shower and closet.

“Such a gentleman pervert,” you tease, fingers curling as you wave at him until Kirishima finally closes the door behind him.

The empty room is nearly deafening in its silence and the future as Kirishima slumps against the sliding door, excited apprehension rippling through every cell of his skin as a smile spreads across his face. He walks to the storage room, and despite it being a private room, there were two closets. The closet not already occupying your clothes had the things needed for him, and thankfully, it fit. 

He undressed slowly, folding his clothes and placing them into the cubbies. Fully naked, he approached the showers, and under the lukewarm showerhead, he cleaned his body of any grime, dirt, and sweat. 

Feeling refreshed and clean, Kirishima began his descent to the hot spring, his heart hammering when his fingers grabbed the handle of the door.

“I’m coming in,” he announced, a healthy amount of fear, excitement, and heat drumming through him.

“I’ll keep my virgin eyes away from your body, don’t worry,” came your slow tease, and Kirishima snorted softly.

Kirishima stepped back out to the hot spring.

Just like the first time, the entrance to the spring was warm, the steam seeming thicker than last time, clouding the outdoor room and his sight. You were at the furthest out part of the pool, your back towards them as you worked your fingers through your scalp.

Discarding his slippers at the edge, Kirishima climbed into the pool.

The pool only went as far as his thigh, and he sank into the warm water. It felt wonderful on his body, relaxing his muscles just enough for him to wonder when was the last time he had managed to visit a hot spring.

“I’m in,” Kirishima said, his arms rising up out of the water, resting onto the black stone. “You can turn around now.”

“God, took you long enough,” you tease, your body twisting so that you were facing him again.

To Kirishima’s complete and utter surprise, you stilled, eyes dragging up and down his exposed chest, eyes locked on the series of tattoos all over his right pectoral, and trailed down his right arm. His lips felt dry as your eyes shifted back to his face, to his arm, and back to him. The smile on your face felt weak, but it sent a spiral of dizzying heat through Kirishima when he noticed the hushed lust.

For a while, the two of you remained at opposite ends of the hot spring. Eyes closed, hummed melodies passing through the song. You asked Kirishima about how he felt, if his medication was due for refills, if therapy was okay (he was doing better, a refill was due in two weeks, and therapy was going the same). He asked you about your relationship with Kimiko, with the lawyer, and if you had any real friends within the music industry (Kimiko was like an older cousin to you, the lawyer was a pain to deal with at times, and surprisingly, you did meet some genuine friends). You questioned how his friends were doing, if he had any contact with them despite their busy schedules. 

So Kirishima found himself retelling stories of his coworkers turned close friends. Each story he told left both of you with sore stomachs from laughter, and tears at the corner of your eyes from laughing too hard. 

“Was the tip story true?” you asked once the quiet overcame and grew old. You shift through the water, getting a bit closer to Kirishima.

Kirishima coughed, suddenly feeling a tad bit shy about his posture, but decided to keep from moving.

“You honestly think I would have barged into here just because I wanted to see you?”

Truthfully, had Kirishima been a man without morals, chivalry, or disrespect for you, he would have. Definitely would have.

“Let a girl dream,” you smile, like a luring siren as you wander closer by just a step. “It would go against everything I know about you, but it’s fun to tease.”

“You’re a bigger brat than I thought you would be,” Kirishima smiles back, trying his best to not show the way goosebumps were bursting against his skin, his eyes locked on yours, trying to not get distracted by the way your wet skin made his mind spin.

“I don’t think I’m a brat,” you counter, getting close enough that he could feel the currents of the water with your movement. But you were far enough that Kirishima felt like pointing out the fact you disregarded his keep apart rule would be a mistake. “How am I a brat?”

The sound of the water rippling through the springs along with the growing noises of the bugs began a melody around the two of you, and all Kirishima could do was stare at the way you blinked your eyes slowly — like a feline stalking a prey.

“A lot of ways, really,” Kirishima breathes, his heart rising up to his throat as he felt your hands gingerly place themselves on his knees.

“Yeah?” you ask, parting through his naked legs, and Kirishima felt his breathing stop when your exposed chest pressed against his. Your lips were ghosting so far from his but tantalizingly close enough that he felt drunk off your sweet breath. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Kirishima sucked in air, his arms resisting movement, and his eyes glanced down at the way your mouth was millimeters from his. His dick was very much interested in what he could do about it, and when your hands grazed up his thigh and onto his chest, Kirishima could feel something rumble in his chest.

He moved to eliminate the space, but there was a crash in the following spring, pushing you away from him long before he could claim your mouth.

“FUCK!” the person in the opposite spring screamed, and Kirishima’s eyes closed in his muted annoyance as you sighed.

His eyes dropped to the water, giving you the privacy to rise out of the water and make your way over to the wall.

“Jenny, are you okay?” you called.

“Give me a warning the next time you try fucking your hot bodyguard in the middle of a private onsen!”

“We weren’t fucking you prude!”

And with that, Kirishima took this as his embarrassed cue to leave.

He stood at the entrance of your private spring for about twenty minutes, entirely uncomfortable with the still hard dick in his pants, rubbing and chaffing against his jeans as he stood there. Eventually, you exited the hot spring, face glowing from the steam and eyes avoiding his gaze as you walked back to your room. Your robe was tight on your body, the hair on the nape of your neck pressed to your skin.

Kirishima sighed as he watched you enter your room, your smile short as you nodded a simple goodnight before letting the door slam shut behind you.

Rubbing his face, Kirishima listened to the voices in his intercom talk about how nothing had happened tonight. An attempted unwelcome visitor tried to get into your room, but they had stopped him. They didn’t fight, but they had run away the moment they caught on to the fact that they weren’t exactly authentic.

Kirishima sighed as he slumped into his room, collapsing on the too small bed as he found himself looking at the ceiling in deep concentration.

What was he going to do now?

That was undeniably sexual, his still semi-hard dick damning evidence to the known fact that he wanted you. By god did he want you. Wanted you beneath him, over him, splitting yourself down onto his cock while you gripped your arms and legs around him, fucking down onto his driving cock. 

Kirishima groaned low in his chest, guilt blooming in the back of his throat as his palm rubbed his pulsing cock.

Bad, Kirishima, bad.

“Kirishima-san?” a voice broke through his earpiece, and Kirishima nearly jumped out of his skin. “Are you there?”

“Hi Kimiko,” Kirishima sighed, his dick deflating instantly. “Everything all right?”

“Ah, yes! Sorry about earlier, the false tip and the sudden abandonment!” Kimiko embarrassingly apologized. “My client was ringing for the fourth time, and while I care deeply for y/n, I had to take it!”

“Mm, no worries, Kimiko,” Kirishima smiled politely despite the lack of visual contact. “How can I help you?”

“Ah, yes,” Kimiko asserted, her tone changing from apology to one of formality. “So, about the visitor incident I’m sure you were brought attention to, it seems that the vehicle they came in was with the driver's plate: T082-23. Does that sound familiar?”

“Not currently,” Kirishima sighed, his body stretching into a sitting up position. “Does it to you?”

“No…” Kimiko admitted, and Kirishima could feel the worried frown on her face. “Well, I just wanted to call and give you that information. It was passed along to me, and they mentioned they hadn’t told you. And since I was going to give you the schedule for the upcoming JRA’s award day, I figured I’d let you know!”

“No problem! Let’s go over the schedule now?”

“Yes! I have a client meeting in America right after this! Can you believe it? An American celebrity wants my help?!”

“That sounds amazing, Kimiko!”

“Okay, so this is how the day’s going to go!”

Date: 7/10 Time: 18:00 Location: Tokyo Hotel Room 101

Kirishima watched as an entire team was getting you dressed up.

Two people were doing your hair, three people doing your nails, one person doing your makeup, and five getting one of your three outfits for the night ready.

According to you, as you had strutted around in these outfits nearly two weeks ago were your red carpet and beginning of the award show outfit, your performance outfit, and of course, the after-party outfit. Each one was different, yet when adorned on your body was a perfect replica of who you were.

Most importantly, the two of you had decided to ignore every single instance of tremendous sexual energy and desire that basically leaked from both of your pores. It was for the best to ignore it. There was no point in pursuing it, especially when there was a known hunt for you, and Kirishima was the last line of defense between you and whoever it was.

Whoever it was, pfft.

Kirishima was willing to bet on who it was already.

Since the night of the initial kidnapping that finally closed the gap between you and Kirishima, there was something that the caught criminal said that stuck with him.

Everything you had coming your way, you deserved, he had said in bitter spite.

The interesting thing was that it was the lawyer who had said that, multiple times at that. The lawyer seemed to have everything to fuel him to rage against you. Everything you said or tried, the lawyer was on your heel, barking at you that it was wrong. Kirishima had also seen the contracts between you and the lawyer, and the amount that he was paid to be your attorney was not large at all.

The mass majority of the funds you earned were always funneled towards charities and organizations you trusted to help people in need — in fact, it was almost 80% of your total earnings. A meek, barely larger than 20% was split between you, your lawyer, Kimiko, your music crew, and any other unforeseen expenses. The lawyer was also in a situation where he was not in demand with clients, and if you weren’t heeding his expensive tag, he needed a new contract with you.

A contract he was always demanding to discuss with you that you denied to change.

Attacks tended to happen days after you and the lawyer tumbled, not enough to rouse suspicion if you weren’t looking, but Kirishima was. He just needed damning evidence now.

Something.

Anything.

And for some reason, his gut was screaming at him that something big was going to happen tonight, that tonight was going to be the last attack—the one to end everything.

So he had told everyone about it. Kimiko, the security at the JRA’s, even you. It made him nervous.

It made his hand sweat, the gun strapped to his thigh feeling like hot iron as he stood about as you laughed with your makeup crew.

Kirishima swore, promised, and vowed he would protect you.

He was going to.

And when the gold dress was tied to your body, fitting you beautifully, Kirishima found himself unable to look away like strands of your hair framed your temples.

“What do you think, Kiri? Will I be on the Best Dressed List?” you asked, tearing Kirishima’s attention away from the bodice and skirt of the dress. Your eyes were bright, hopeful, yearning for a positive reaction from him.

“How could you not be?” Kirishima admitted, his grin toothy, and he shifted against the wall.

“You’ll make me blush,” you grin back, eyes batting just a bit as you clasp your hands together. It takes everything in Kirishima to keep from striding across the space between the two of you and kissing you silly. “Are we ready to go?”

Kirishima wet his lips, unwillingly tearing his gaze from you, and whispers into the intercom.

“Ready to move out?”

“We’re all clear.”

Straightening back up, Kirishima smiled at you, his head motioning towards the door.

“Alright, y/n, let’s see you make some history?”

“Damn right I will.”

Kirishima smiled as he exited first, carving the path for you. 

Paparazzi were on you immediately, the lights flashing and terribly bright as he helped you through the throngs of them. His hand pressed to your back as they screamed demands, most of which you complied with until Kirishima stated that you would be late. You, unfortunately, couldn’t be late to the awards show.

Ushering you into the limousine, Kirishima follows in shortly after you, scrunching up in his seat as he sits opposite of you. However, your typical light and bright demeanor are gone; instead, you seem almost anxious as you open your handbag.

“You okay there?” Kirishima asks as he realizes you pulled out a distinctly obvious metal flask.

“Awards make me nervous,” you painfully admit; you're weakly smiling as you knock back a shot of the drink. “I hate winning and losing; the alcohol makes me less… of a wreck. Do you want some? I think it’s apple soju, I don’t know, a good luck gift from Kimiko.”

Kirishima grins, his eyes rolling as he decides to decline the drink. “Sorry, love, I think that I need to be completely sober for today.”

You scrunch your nose, obviously displeased, “Lame, who shows up to these awards sober?”

“Me,” Kirishima laughed, his head tilting back and scraping against the ceiling of the limousine. 

“Such a prude, sober, pervert,” you sigh, taking yet another swig before putting the flask back into your bag. 

“Such a brat.”

Just like every previous instance, your eyes seem to glow in glee at that name, your lips curling into a pleased smirk as you shrug. It's a sight that makes Kirishima’s mouth dry and heart racing. Fuck, he should not be thinking about fucking you in the limousine right now.

But before the heat in the limousine could simmer to one of undeniable boiling, you had arrived.

Kirishima cleared his throat, sending a quick wink your way as he exited the car first. The first stop was for him to join the lineup to guide you through all the different photo and interview sessions. No one wanted pictures of him emerging from the limo after all. 

There's a moment where after Kirishima closes the door, your eyes filled with worry and excitement as he winked goodbye, that things changed. He stood up, his eyes already scanning the area for anything suspicious, when he saw the all too familiar van.

T082-23.

His eyes widened, his head looking around for anyone else, but there was no one to help. No one could do anything as the car continued to drive away, disappearing from Kirishima’s line of sight. His heart hammered in his chest, and his hands instinctively went to his thigh. He had his firearm… he had it.

With nothing but a quick report to the head of security via his com, Kirishima pushed on ahead, waiting for your descent down the red carpet.

When you eventually emerged from the limousine, Kirishima found that at this moment, the entire world faded away as a gloved hand assisted you out of the vehicle. You were elegant, stunning, a realistic vibrant portrait within his world of greys. As you took photos for the cameras, he was by your side a few strides away as you talked to reporters.

You really came to life right now.

You were beautiful.

“For all the pain in the world that she is, she’s quite charming from a distance, huh?” a voice spoke to his side, and Kirishima froze. His eyes widened completely when he noticed that standing beside him was none other than the lawyer.

The lawyer was dressed in a nice suit, glasses perched on his nose, and for the first time Kirishima had seen, the scowl was not quite so hard.

He was here.

Every warning bell sounded in Kirishima’s head.

This was the man he was so sure was the reason behind your every attack. A man fueled by insufficient funding, a need for a new contract that would never be approved without your signature.

“What are you doing here?” Kirishima asked, subtlety never being something he was ever good with. “I’ve never seen you anywhere except to argue with Y/n about contracts. This doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to be discussing it.”

“Kimiko wanted me to give her a new contract proposal to give to y/n. However, to be fair, it’s quite easy for anything to come down to an argument with y/n,” he shrugs, and Kirishima watches a cloud of emotions pass between the man’s eyes. “At least between her and me, we’ve never gotten along, but I suppose that’s how it is for any type of family who works together.”

Wait.

“What?! Family member?!”

“Yes, I know it’s strange to believe. I am quite ugly, and she is not, but we’re family.”

Kirishima’s mind was racing now. It didn’t make sense. If he was family, why would he be in such pursuit of potentially murdering you? If you were family, he was sure that you would help out? If he needed a raise like he thought, wouldn’t you have helped?

There was no way you wouldn’t.

Was he wrong?

Who was it?

“Kiri!” your voice broke into his mind and tore him back to reality. You waved at him, then passed a stuck-out tongue to the lawyer in a teasing fashion. “Let’s go in?”

Kirishima looked over at the lawyer who greeted a woman, who was also walking down the red carpet, a celebrity he could name no less, with a warm kiss. 

Oh fuck.

He needed to call Kimiko; he was so very wrong.

You had won two awards so far, and at this very moment, Kirishima was being ushered back to his seat in the audience as you were being escorted to the main stage to perform your latest song. You had removed your gold dress for a black, sleek gown. Your lipstick changed to a dark red, and your hands trembled in the white lace gloves you wore.

“Oh, Kiri,” you wheezed almost, your hands shaking as the announcers on stage were announcing the last awards before your performance. “I’m getting nervous. What if I mess up or sing off-key? I’d be the laughing stock!”

Kirishima laughed gently, his hands easily encompassing your waist as he stilled your frantic moves. “Y/l/n y/n, if there is anything I know for sure about you is that you are one hell of a singer and a performer. The awards you’re nominated for tonight speak for themselves! You never fail at your performances, and even if you somehow manage to sing off-key, I’m sure that no one would notice! Your biggest fan in the world won’t notice, at least.”

Not more than seven days ago, when you had cried about the impending nerves of being an artist, Kirishima had come to claim the title of being your biggest fan in the world. It had made you chuckle through your tears before coming near a hysterical laugh as the two of you held each other close.

“You’re a nut, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, hands resting on his lower ribs, but your smile was bright, warm. You paused a bit, fingers pulling at the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll sing just for you then, but I think I should take another swig of that soju.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Could you tell that Takeyama is completely drunk off her ass?”

“...she’s drunk?!”

“Exactly, I’ll be fine,” you breathe, taking a new smaller flask from the purse Kirishima was holding for you and taking the final swig. Your face contorts at the bitter liquid. “Ew, Kimiko really fucked me over with this one. Why is it blue?! Have you ever seen blue apple soju?!”

“No?” Kirishima startled, his eyes looking at the indeed splash of blue liquid tainting a small part of your gloves. “Who gave you that one? What happened with the other flask of yours?”

“Oh, Kimiko sent it along after I lost my other one; it’s her own flask,” you said before the backstage crew whisked you away to begin your set, and without you, Kirishima was sent to the audience.

Kirishima felt trapped as he was ushered into his seat, his eyes scanning the entire audience for something suspicious, a familiar face perhaps. His broad shoulders continued to bump into his neighbors, their disgruntled noises doing nothing to stop his worry.

“And now, Y/n,” came the strong voice of the male announcer, and the light dimmed.

Kirishima watched as the spotlight came down upon you, a golden halo of colors against your darkened gown as the instrumentals began to play in the background. And he saw you take a step forward, the building motifs suddenly silencing when you finally sang the first note.

Despite the panic arising in Kirishima, the unknown of who was behind it all, what was going to happen, he stilled at the unmatched strength and ambiance of your voice.

You sang as you did at every stage, to every audience.

There was a reason why you were considered a legend.

And then, with one last sound, one last melody, and your hand holding your microphone dropped. Your chest heaving, tears falling down your face, and the roar of the audience was silent. You looked through the audience, unable to see, but for some reason, you just knew where Kirishima was.

You smile.

But as the looming sounds begin to fill your ear again, you find that the world is hazy.

You swallow, eyes unfocused as you bowed, hurrying to leave the stage.

Kirishima watched as you took a final stumbling step off the stage, something he felt was going to be written off as you stepped on your dress. But his mind whirled.

The lawyer felt like a setup; the contracts made no sense, the blue soju.

How were they related?

What connected them?

“Oh, fuck,” Kirishima whispered, horrified, and immediately his finger pressed to his earpiece. “Find Y/n! Now!”

Kirishima was racing through the back of the venue, the announcers' voices still ringing through the dirty, bleak hallways. You had just won but was written off as being somewhere backstage; after all, the show must go on.

Voices screamed in his earpiece, each declining to have found you. No one had seen you after you stepped off the stage. No one knew who had taken you.

Kirishima noticed the doors closing at the end of the hallway, and with a dreading sense of doom, Kirishima removed the gun from his harness. And with the devil on his heels, he ran.

Kirishima panted as he looked before him.

You were passed out, draped limp, confused, and woozy against Kimiko’s body, and two men knocked unconscious beside them. To anyone else, it looked as if Kimiko had saved you, some guardian angel within this world, but if Kirishima’s gut meant anything, he knew better.

“Kirishima-san!’ Kimiko squeaked as Kirishima raised his gun, his body tense, unwilling to take a chance on her. “I don’t know what those two were doing! I was saving her, I swear!”

“Don’t do this, Kimiko,” Kirishima whispered, his head shaking. “I figured it out.”

There was a shift in Kimiko’s face at that; the scared unknowing hero melted into one of anger, resentment, one of someone who knew they had been outed.

“So, you figured it out,” she bitterly spoke, her arms that were supporting you from behind revealing to be a firearm of your own. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“I can’t say I figured out your reasoning; honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me, but I felt like it was you,” Kirishima carefully states, his heart roaring at the implied danger of the firearm against your chin. “Don’t do anything stupid, Kimiko.”

Kimiko stares, her lips forming a small o before changing into one of a large, near unattached grin.

“Anything stupid? If anyone is doing anything stupid, it's this selfish prick!” Kimiko spits, her arms tightening around you, making you whimper ever so gently in pain. “She thinks she’s so great, so rich, so smart! Just because she wastes most of her money on stupid shit like charity! Everyone thinks working for her is a dream, but they’re all blind idiots!”

Kirishima’s eyes widen as he notices the glazed, unfocused of your eyes as you shift your attention over to him. Were you listening?

“What’s wrong with the contract?” he asks, a small attempt to diffuse the situation.

“The fact she pays me next to nothing, and yet she works me half to death!”

“You have multiple clients, don’t you?” Kirishima splutters, unsure as to what was wrong. “Why is this one contract so important you wanted to frame her lawyer?!”

Kimiko laughs; it’s pitchy, almost hysterical as she bends over, your body slumping further onto the floor. “That was a lie! All a fucking lie! Do you know that I knew no one when I first started? Y/n is a name everyone wants. I don’t need to do anything to get her things! The world wants her! But the other clients? None of them stayed, none of them wanted me past a month! The salary was okay when she was a snot-nosed brat, but ten years later?! NO! She won’t fucking listen. She never fucking listens to anything but herself! So she has the option to give me the eighty percent, or fucking die here!”

Suddenly the gun in Kirishima’s hand feels like a ton, the skin on the back of his neck crawling and slicking with sweat.

“You know how much those charities mean to her,” Kirishima whispers. “She won’t do it.”

Kimiko trembles for a second, her arm holding the firearm lowering as she looks at the wall, shaking.

“Oh my god… you’re right,” Kimiko realizes, horror and uncertainty flashing across her face. “I guess… she has to die, oh my god, she has to die.”

At that moment, the world slowed down, and Kirishima swore he could see the atoms, the electricity flowing through the space between them. Kimiko’s arm holding the gun raising back up to your temple, her smile detached, horrific yet gleeful.

His body trembled as he doubted himself, his mind unsure if the finger on the trigger was going to be strong enough to fire away. Could he do it?

Was he ready?

Actually ready?

Save her, his past whispered.

Save her, his nightmares screamed.

Save her, his heart yelled.

Kirishima raised his arm, his focus blaring, his past just for a moment, forgotten.

BANG!

“The effects of the rohypnol have already worn out. Thankfully she wasn’t given a whole pill. If she experiences any nausea or throws up, please bring her back, should anything else happen, she’ll be okay.”

The words of the doctor rang in Kirishima’s ears. For tonight, they were going to be discharging you to him. Thankfully, it was all happening in Tokyo, so Kirishima’s apartment was near, and if Bakugou was true to his word, it was clean.

With the help of hospital security, he had managed to get your tuxedo concealed body into a car, and the two of you rode off to his apartment. You’ve been silent the entire time, eyes downcasted as you sit pressed to his side, feeling like a small child compared to him. You knew that he was much larger than you, a near two feet taller, but this felt unmatched. 

Kirishima’s jacket was warm around you, it’s sheer largeness another dress on your body, and despite the horrific turn of events, you were feeling warm. You couldn’t remember much of what transpired after stumbling off stage, but you did remember Kirishima bursting through the doors, a look of anger and fear blistering off his person in such a way that made you whimper when you remembered.

You remembered the onsen basically every night, cursing your stupid makeup team for interrupting a night that definitely would have ended with you fucking Kirishima. You cursed yourself for being a coward and not just saying fuck it and fucking him afterward despite the brief awkwardness.

He wanted you, it was clear as day, and you wanted him as well.

Tonight.

“Sorry about how small my apartment is, or if it’s messy, I don’t actually know if my friends have been keeping up with it,” Kirishima apologized, guiding you into the apartment by the small of your back. “You’ll be safe here tonight, and I promise we can get back to your own place tomorrow!”

“Oh, don’t apologize, it’s okay,” you smile, feeling flushed as you cross the entryway to the apartment. His apartment, despite not being home in so long, is clean. The halls aren’t messy, and a hint of lavender is saturated to the air. The dim hallway lights were barely bright enough to cause you to squint as it was dark out. “Thank you for having me tonight, especially after everything.”

At the hospital, you had been given a pair of sweats and a cotton t-shirt. The change in outfit from your event dress was definitely needed, and even though you were sure your makeup was streaked down your face, you felt good hidden in the depths of Kirishima’s jacket.

“Are you hungry?” Kirishima asked, handing over his guest slippers, which you gratefully accepted. “I might have some microwaveable food leftover.”

“Ramen doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit as Kirishima unbuttons the first few buttons on his white dress shirt. You were instantly captivated by the movement, your eyes shifting back to his face when he began to walk off towards the kitchen.

Kirishima talked warmly, keeping the conversation going merrily and bright throughout the entire time in the kitchen. He undoubtedly knew you weren’t entirely okay, and at moments like this, you were entirely grateful for his sweet personality. 

To be fair, you knew that you had been quite unfair to Kirishima in the beginning. Looking back at the first entire month of knowing him, you were horrified and impressed that Kirishima didn’t demand to be dropped. You had been selfish, stubborn, a bottom line brat, and he took it day after day. It wasn’t that you disliked him back then; hell, you had been in a near state of delirium when he entered the door during your first meeting because you had no idea such huge men existed to the caliber of his hotness.

But you resisted and might have been harsher than needed.

It was okay now; after all, if he was genuinely bitter about that entire month still, the onsen said otherwise.

It didn’t take long for your stomach to be filled with warm broth, soft boiled eggs, and ramen noodles. Kirishima did, in fact, have ramen, fresh eggs, and some vegetables. In a grand act of preparing you the most sufficient dinner he could, Kirishima presented this under budget ramen and laughed when you said it was terrific.

But it was growing late.

The two of you still sat at his table that was full of a card game, your empty ramen bowls, and cups of water. The clock on the oven read 23:38, and the city lights were slowly dying.

“Are you ready for bed?” Kirishima eventually asked you. 

You looked up from your joined hands; your fingers had been playing with his thick and long fingers for some time now. The apartment grew steadily quieter as you studied and attempted to memorize each callous and scar on his hands. They were definitely marked and nicked, the sign of the warrior he once was.

“Depends on the bed,” you tease, lips rising into a small smile as you compare your much tinier hands than his. Your fingertips barely passed the edge of his palm. “What does a big guy like you sleep in? A twin? Tatami mat?”

Kirishima laughed, his hands twisting in yours, wrapping it around so that he raised your hands up to press a kiss to the center of your palms. 

“A futon, brat,” Kirishima explained, his smile small but sharp with his humor. “Let’s get you to bed?”

You frown. 

“Where will you be sleeping then?”

“My couch is just fine.”

“I’m sure your stuffing in a trash bag had holes in it.”

“That’s okay,” Kirishima laughed, standing up and quickly taking you to your feet as well. “It’s just for a night, I’ll live.”

Your face warmed immediately as he guided you down the hallway of his apartment before finally coming into what was definitely his room.

Kirishima’s scent was faint in this room, cinnamon, wood, and warm spices. It made your eyes flutter as you observed his room from the entryway as he began to set up the room. 

His eye for interior decoration was quite… different. You smiled brightly as you glanced around; the diverse and rather boyish decorations around the room warmed your heart. It seemed exactly like what you would think of for Kirishima. 

“Well, that’s all!” Kirishima exclaimed, his hands landing on his hips in triumph as he looked around. “The bathroom is the next door over, and I’ll leave a toothbrush out for you. I also left out a new t-shirt of mine if you want to change!”

You nod some more, watching as Kirishima seems unsure of what to do next. He looks around, coughs a bit before nodding.

“Okay, I’ll be leaving—”

“Um, can we talk?” you interrupt, arms wrapping around your body. “I have some things I want to say.”

“Oh, sure!”

“You can sit,” you say, motioning toward the bed. “I have a few things to get off my chest.”

Kirishima pauses for a bit, his eyes looking you over before he eventually nods, and he sits down. The bed slightly creaks under his weight, and you feel your body warm-up at the sound. You want to hear the bed creak more, to rock under the weight of you and him pressed against the sheets as you cried his name.

“What is it?” he asks gently, observing you.

“I just…” you huff, words failing you, your tongue feeling heavy. “I wanted to say thank you for saving me.”

“It was my job to do that,” Kirishima smiled warmly, his arms crossing again.

He was relaxed.

“I mean, I can’t even begin to believe that it was Kimiko who was behind all that, even though we know it was… I know it was,” you trail off, shivering slightly as you remember your ex-managers demented laugh in your ear. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Nothing would’ve happened to you,” Kirishima spoke with finality. “I promised to myself at the first meeting I was going to protect you, hell the entire world would. You’re not going to be taken down by pathetic people like that, not you.”

“Really?”

“One hundred percent.”

“I feel like I should repay you in some way, though,” you rub the back of your neck, eyes fluttering just the slightest bit flirtatious. Kirishima looked at you with full mooned eyes, his arms unfolding and his palms resting onto the bedspread.

“You repay me plenty already,” came his whispered answer, so quiet, so pure you almost smiled. “You don’t have to do anything.”

Your tongue pushes past your lip, wetting the drying skin as you take a step toward him. The shoulders of the jacket slowly fall from your own shoulders, pooling just above your elbows as you stop before him, hands resting daintily on his broad shoulders.

“And what if I want something?” you ask, finding yourself stemming with energy as his legs part, allowing you closer access to him. 

You step in closer and closer until your outer thighs are ghosting against the inner part of his.

“I think it’s in our contract for me to do everything that you request if I remember correctly,” Kirishima whispers, his bright clear red eyes turning a burnt shade: dark and ever consuming. 

“And if I want you to finish what you started over at the onsen?” you press, fingers curling against the muscles of his shoulders before locking behind his neck.

His nose was brushing against yours, cold yet burning against your own skin.

“I’ll gladly show you what I wanted to do that night,” he grunts, eyes deadly, and for the first time, his hands held your waist.

You took a second to recover, your skin sparking with the electricity of his touch, and you suppressed a shiver as you opened your eyes.

“Do it,” you cement your fates, “coward.”

And just like that, in a movement so euphoric, Kirishima’s mouth crashed against yours.

His mouth was hot, dangerous against yours -- a live wire sparking with uncontrollable energy and heat as your mouths danced. Hot puffs of air were passed between your mouths, your fingers shaking with an undeniable release of tension and want. 

The kiss was sloppy, desperate, so needy with unspoken frantic determination to fuck each other until the other could no longer move. 

Kirishima’s hand removed the jacket from your arms, letting the expensive material fall onto the floor with a heavy thud. Despite the lack of warmth the clothing provided, the feeling of Kirishima’s hands rubbing against your bare arms sent your mind spiraling.

“Get on the bed,” Kirishima commands against your mouth. “Let me fuck you.”

The words were nearly embarrassingly desperate, but the tone of his voice spoke of the absolute domination he wished to assert on you. He wanted you in one exact way, and you had a feeling you knew what it was. But if he had been paying attention, Kirishima should already know that getting you to listen was not easy.

“No,” you grin against his mouth.

Kirishima pulls away instantly, his lips red and swollen as he replays your word in his head. He looks frazzled, absolutely delirious already at the simple, passion-filled makeout. As soon as his eyes clear away the fog, your grin drops, and instead, you look at him with fierce determination and defiance. 

“No?” he repeats.

“No,” you confirm.

Your chest feels light, your head spinning as the hands on your waist tighten, and his eyes flash dangerously. The tip of his tongue pushes past his lips before quickly disappearing again. 

“Of course, you’re a brat in bed too, such a fucking princess,” Kirishima shakes his head, but his mouth curving into a shark-like grin. 

Menacing, promising, sending chilling shivers down your spine.

The world spins faster than you can keep up, your mouth opening to shriek as Kirishima easily lifts you up, and has you lying against his lap. 

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, princess,” Kirishima begins, his large fingers hooking into the waistband of the sweats you have on and the panties you’re wearing. “My princess gets rewards for being good. If she can behave properly, she gets to be fucked with dick, her pussy gets to be fucked just the way she pleases.”

You can’t help but stifle a moan that threatens to spill out with his words and the way his hands move down the curve of your ass, exposing the naked skin to him. The waistband of both your panties and sweats stay high up your thighs, and it’s almost embarrassing to know you’re still so clothed despite what’s to come.

“And just what does the Sergeant do to bad girls?” you ask, unable to keep your tongue down, your hips rolling against his lap in undeserved friction.

Unexpectedly, abruptly, a hand comes down harshly onto your bare ass.

The contact is rough, stinging against your ass as you cry out in slight pain.

The hand not currently rubbing a warning circle into your ass twists the hair at the top of your head, lifting your head up so that your ear could near his mouth.

“Bad girls get punishments. They get what I want to give them. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Holy shit,” you whimper, heat flaring between your thighs at the thought of Kirishima doing anything to you regardless of if you were good or bad. You rut your ass back against his hand, longing for a heavier touch, a plea for something more.

“What does the princess want?”

“Nothing,” you bite, and the crashing smack of another spank has you moaning loudly at the stinging pleasure-filled pain. 

“You moaning like a whore at a simple spank says otherwise,” Kirishima chuckles darkly, his fingers pinching your stinging ass as your body bucks against him. He spanks you again, again, and again. Each slap is intentful, powerful, wanting to get you to admit what you want, and you cry against your hands each time, your eyes fluttering as the pain feels good. 

“Of course, a slut like you would be getting off on this,” Kirishima seems amused, his thick finger pressing to the slit of your cunt, spreading your dripping essence against your cunt. He presses against your entrance with just the tip of his finger, and you shriek in a sound for more, your hips jerking backward to get his finger into you, to fuck you with those thick fingers to do something about the growing desperate heat. 

“Kirishima!” you scream, your body sweating and twisting on his lap, desperate to find some way to get him to finger fuck you. 

“Ah, there we go,” he sighs in delight as his fingers swirl at your entrance, increasing the teasing and making your mind spin. “Tell me what you want, brat.”

“You!” you wail, two of his fingers carting between your wet, sloppy heated lips. They graze your clit, stimulating you further as you can do nothing but instinctively jerk against his hold, trying to get him to give you the needed pleasure to build up to an orgasm. “I want you to fuck me so good! Please, Sergeant, please, I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember anything but your name.”

“But you haven’t proven to be a good princess,” Kirishima tuts, his hands disappearing from your pussy despite your crying pleas. His hand grabs your ass, though, massaging the abused skin, grasping it tightly.

You moan, embarrassed at the sensation of his massive hand easily cupping your ass cheek, your fingers fisting into the fabric of his pants as you shake your head.

“Are you going to prove that you’re good?” he asks you, his tone like that of a parent chastising a child. “Gonna prove to me that you can be good?”

You shake pathetically against his legs, but you can’t keep yourself from shaking your head. You can’t prove to him that you would be.

“I can’t!” you whimper loudly, your body twisting on his lap to look up at him, your eyes filled with tears and pleading need. Kirishima looked down at you with lust filled eyes and an undeniable need to be followed.

“You can’t?” he repeats, his head tilting, eyes narrowing, and his fingers dug into your ass. “Or you won’t?”

You tremble on top of him, unable to answer because you weren’t ready to hand over the reins just yet. You didn’t want to submit so fast, you wanted to make his own head dizzy with need but the stubbornness to continue punishing you the way he was promising.

“I won’t,” you gasp, eyes fluttering at the way he finally drops your head.

You gasp loudly as you find him shoving you off his lap, and with your panties and sweats sitting so awkwardly high on your legs, you find yourself tumbling off his lap and onto the floor.

“Guess if you don’t want to behave, I’ll treat you like some fucking pussy pocket and dispose of you once I’m done,” Kirishima easily breathes, and you look up at the now standing man as he tears his shirt off.

Your mouth waters, your cunt throbbing at the sight of the rippling muscles and dark lines of his tattoos on his upper body. You watch fascinated, like one does to a masterpiece, as he undresses until he’s in nothing but his socks. And at the sight of his dick, you can feel at once all the blood in your flushed face drop directly into your throbbing cunt.

He was fucking enormous, his girth barely fitting into his hand, and the angry red head spilled its precum against his abs. A black happy trail connecting Kirishima’s abs to his vein throbbing cock.

Holy fuck, he could quickly kill you with that.

Kirishima doesn’t ask any questions as he watches your awkwardly dressed state of a body on the floor. His head is tilted upwards, a small pleased smile on his face as he looks down on you, his hand slowly, leisurely fisting his cock as you can do nothing but stare.

You make some insane noise at the back of your throat at this sight, your thighs trembling with need, and you're pushing off your side, your ass burning, and your balance off as you open your mouth, offering all you could to him.

And thankfully, Kirishima allows it.

He’s much too tall for you to suck him off on your knees, so he sits back down onto the bed, letting you scamper between his legs, mouth open wide like some needy pet.

“Such a good little slut,” Kirishima sighs, sinking his cock into your wet, hot mouth. “Such a fucking cockwhore, all it took was a single glance for you to lose your will.”

You whine against his dick, your jaw tight with the stretch, your tongue lapping so desperately around the cock that was no more than halfway in yet couldn’t go in any further.

“Suck me right, and I’ll reward you by fucking that pretty little pussy of yours,” Kirishima grunts, his fingers pressing into the side of your neck as he ruts his hips up into your mouth, shoving his cock even further into your mouth. “And don’t you dare look away from me while you suck me off.”

It feels like fire.

His cock driving down your throat hurts, the taste of his salty pre-cum slathering all over your tongue and dripping out of your mouth with the saliva you can’t control. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you continue to bob your head, continue to fuck him with your throat as animalistic, praiseworthy noises begin spilling from Kirishima’s mouth.

You whimper at the sight of his head dipping back, and you nearly whine when he shoves the fingers he had gathered your juices on into his mouth. He moans at the contact and with his pleasure with your actions so obvious as you choke against his girth. That was hot, holy fuck, you wanted him to fuck you, please fuck you. 

Your eyes close as he begins to fuck faster into your mouth, his delight in hearing you choke around him his driving force. Tears start pouring from your eyes despite your best efforts, your throat and inner thighs burning with lust and need as Kirishima groans, his cock twitching deep in your throat.

Slap!

“Hey!”

Slap!

You gag harshly as your cheeks sting with his heavy slap, your teeth grazing underneath his cock, right against a thick, twisting vein.

“Did I tell you to close your eyes?” Kirishima practically growls, his hands grasping the back of your neck, the other one slapping you across the face yet again. “No. I said… fuck… I said, keep your eyes on me!”

Tears weep down your face, your eyes struggling to keep focus on him as he continued to fuck deep and intensely into your mouth, shoving himself further into you until you could feel his thighs grazing your chin. Oxygen wasn’t flowing anymore; your gags and chokes the only time the burning element could manage to flow through you, but Kirishima doesn’t seem to care. He seems to delight in the way you are, despite it all, are moaning and looking at him in a pleading way for more.

More, you plead.

And he delivers. 

Kirishima pulls his still hard, not yet cummed, dick out of your mouth and stands. 

You splutter with the sudden intake of oxygen to your lungs, burning you from the inside out as you splutter on the ground.

“W-What’s going on?” you hoarsely stammer, your jaw and throat aching from its prolonged abuse. “E-Ei?”

However, Kirishima seems dead set on getting you naked, and you squeal in flustered excitement as he rips the shirt off of you and his mouth pressing against yours again. His mouth crashes against yours, and you moan into his mouth immediately.

His tongue curls into your mouth and your tongues press and rub against each other. Each passing second growing more desperate, needier, more intense as your clothes are ripped one by one off your body.

“Holy fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long,” Kirishima nearly whines, his mouth trailing down your neck, biting and sucking against every centimeter of skin he passed. “Wanted to fuck you against the wall, in my bed, and now I get to do that.”

“Please, please, fuck me, please,” you beg, your voice bordering a wail as your arms wrap around his neck, letting him lift you up off the floor. Despite you being so much smaller than him that when he held you to him, your cunt wasn’t pressed to his angry leaking cock, you continued to desperately roll your hips against his abs, the friction welcomed and easing the building pressure. It was an action conveying just what you wanted. “I need you in me, Sergeant!”

“Just cuz… holy fuck,” Kirishima breathes ragged, his body twisting around, and you cried when the cold sheets pressed into your back. “Imma fuck you, Imma… god, just fucking watch.”

Your head thrashed back onto the pillow as Kirishima’s teeth sunk into your collarbone, then captured your sensitive nipples, his fingers dancing against your clit and teasing your center. 

“Now!” you cry, fingers digging into his shoulder. “Put it in!”

This time, Kirishima didn’t need to be told twice.

His larger body was suddenly pressed entirely against yours, dwarfing you immediately as your arms wrapped around his back as his cock slammed into you. You screamed at the sudden intrusion, your pussy stretched beyond its typical limits by his girth, his size, his power.

Your cunt throbbed around him, your face buried within his pecs as you, despite the searing pain, shove your hips up towards him. Fucking into him, sucking him further into you.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima groans, “you’re amazing.”

“Talk less, fuck me more!” you screech, your body spasming, twitching so hard from the splitting pleasure and the lava pit in your stomach, and Kirishima does that exactly.

His hips begin to meet yours in equaled power, slamming into you so that the bed creaked beneath you. He fucked you until he had to hold a hand on your hip so you could stay there, and you kept a hand on the wall to continue to push yourself down onto his cock.

You screamed with pleasure, cried for more, Kirishima’s shark-like smirk getting bolder, darker, hotter with every slam of his hips until his tattooed right arm shot down. His hand wrapped around your throat, choking you.

“You’re so loud, princess,” Kirishima moans, clearly liking your loud noises, “but you’re going to wake everyone in Tokyo.”

His hand around your throat is enough to have your legs trembling around his waist, your choked and muffled moans and splutters drowning out even more as he pressed a kiss onto you. He kissed you, licking your mouth, and devouring your every word and thought. Your core twisted, tightened, and burned. It throbbed and clenched with it’s impending orgasm, and your body began to tense to the heavens as his cock throbbed deep within you.

“Who saved you?”

“E-Ei did,” you garble.

“Who’s fucking you?”

“E-Ei is!”

“Who’s going to fucking cum when I tell her to?”

“Me! Fuck, me!”

Kirishima laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist, and in one final, fleeting burst of strength, fucks into you with his own power, needs, and desire, and you can only take it. “Cum, princess,” he whispered almost sweetly against the top of your head, and it was all over. Your teeth sink into his chest as you scream, a blinding white light erupting through your vision as you cum around his cock.

Kirishima whimpers, his cock still pushing deep into your cunt, until you can feel the warm spill of his seed in your womb.

He collapses to the side of you, taking you with him so that you were resting on his sweaty chest.

“Holy shit,” Kirishima whispered after a bit, your body already warm and too lethargic to notice the star-like tone to his voice. “That was fucking… holy shit.”

“Does this mean you like me?” you half tease, half wonder.

There’s a pause, a silence, and you wonder if maybe he had fallen asleep.

But he didn’t.

“I’ve been in love with you for some time now, I think,” he admits, his hand beginning to rub small circles into your back.

You find that despite the exhaustion, warmth floods your cheeks.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess we’re going to have to discuss a more… permanent and maybe different contract tomorrow morning, huh?”

Kirishima chuckles, and you find yourself smiling into his chest.

“I think we do.”

#kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha

[happer08]

Video Games

Okay so this is written a little differently than everything ive posted, im trying something a little new, but please enjoy the mackinnon filth.

(again based on a conversation i had with my best friend)

@fallinallincurls

This was never the intention. But something about Nate had that effect on you. No matter how long you were together, something about him brought your weirdest parts out. So that was how you got here. Tucked up next to Nate, two of his thick fingers between your lips resting on your tongue as you sucked them gently. Your eyes had fallen closed a while ago, leaving you bathing in his body heat and the heavy feeling of his fingers on your tongue. 

Nate had been quiet most of the night, something that was common when he got back from the road. The sound of his breathing was calming. The low hum of the TV lulled the background noise till you had nothing to focus on but Nate. 

"Gonna need my hand back soon, sweetheart," he finally hummed lowly next to you, pulling your head from the haze it had entered a while ago. 

"Why?" you pulled your lips off enough to choke out the wet question. 

"The guys wanna play COD for a while," he explained, looking over brushing his thumb over your wet bottom lip. 

"Just a little more," you whined, licking his fingers before sucking them gently back into your mouth. 

Nate hummed, his thumb leaving a wet swipe on your cheek as he watched you with wide fone eyes. 

"Just want my fingers, eh?" he smiled. 

You hummed a conformation around his fingers before he gently pushed down on your tongue. Still, you moved with his fingers on your tongue, straddling his waist, settling your weight there before pulling off. 

"Can we?" You panted, hoping he would follow the drag of your hips as a solid finish to that question. 

"Use your words, baby; you know I want to give it to you; I just need to know what it is." 

"Fuck me, Nate, please," You begged, sounding more desperate than intended. 

"But sweetheart, you know I'm about to get on with the guys." 

You pouted, your body slumping a little, feeling a familiar throb between your legs. 

"Oh, come on, not that face," Nate sighed, all too familiar with the look you know will get you almost anything. 

"I'll make you a deal. You can sit in my lap with me inside you" he paused when you sucked in a harsh breath around his fingers. "And if you're good and quiet while I play, you'll get exactly what you want when I'm done," Nate proposed. 

"Deal," you agreed without much consideration.

Nate's sweats were easy to get down till they rested just above his knees. Since your shower, you had been wearing one of his hoodies and a pair of panties, so it didn't take much undressing till the blunt tip of his hard cock pressed at your dripping entrance. 

Nate had grabbed the controller he needed and the headset long before you had his fingers in your mouth, so once he pushed in and you settled against his chest, he took a chest-raising breath, grabbing what he needed. 

From where you were positioned, you could hear the voices of his teammates in the party as your soaked pussy throbbed and clenched on Nates' hard cock. Nate took focused breaths, trying to pay attention to whatever Mikko was yelling into his headset only a few hundred meters from where you laid over Nate. 

This was nice, not exactly what you had in mind when you asked Nate to fuck you, but it wasn't the worst idea he'd ever had. You rolled your hip, and Nate let out a hissed breath, a noise that could have been explained away from the game. 

This was good. You felt full, close to Nate in a way that you craved, but something was missing, a low buzz under your skin you couldn't pinpoint. You sat with it for a while, Nate moving under you, laughing with the guys as they played behind you. That was when it clicked; two matches in, you moved up Nate's chest opening your mouth gently licked at Nates' neck, sucking his skin as you ground on him gently. 

Nate hissed again, his jaw clenching at the added friction. That was it. You kept going, feeling Nate's heart rate spiking under your lips as he started to shake a little. He cleared his throat, breaking you from the focus and the pleasure haze you'd fallen into once more. 

"I'm gonna grab a glass of water, boys; hold on" Nate turned off the mic and groaned loud and long. 

"Fuck, you're gonna get us in so much trouble." he huffed, thrusting up into you a few slow times. You decided to double down, letting out a high-pitched moan right near Nate's ear before mouthing wetly at his neck a few more times as he shook under you. 

"God, you're a fucking menace."

"Do-don't forget about your game Nate" You breathed, licking a few wet stripes on his skin. 

"Fucking you is much more fun, baby girl," Nate breathed hard into your ear. 

Nate did just that a few slow times, his throbbing hard cock slowly pushing in and dragging out of you as you practically dripped around him. 

You kept mouthing at the soft skin under his jaw while your hands had found their way into his shirt, fisting the material as you held onto him. 

"Ju-just two more rounds, sweet girl, can you be good for me?" Nate finally panted just above your ear. 

You let out a whimpered complaint as Nate stopped fucking up into you, breaking the approaching orgasm that had started to bubble in the lowest part of your stomach. Burying your face in his neck, you held onto his shirt, hearing the mic on his headset turn back on.

"Sorry, boys had to move the laundry too. We ready for another one?" he asked; his voice was clear and calm like he didn't feel you clenching around him as if he hadn't been fucking you painfully slow a few seconds before. 

At this point, you had started to drip, your soaked pussy leaking down. Nates shafted as he took a shaky breath halfway through the second round. 

"Okay, guys, I'm gonna hop off after this game."

"All good, Mack?" Mikko asked, seeming mildly concerned. 

"All good, just a little tired tonight and have a movie date later," He lied.

Just like Nate promised after that second round, he said his goodbyes and shut the system down for the night, discarding his headphones and controller quickly. 

"Fuck baby, you did so good,” he hummed, leaning forward, his abs contracted under your body as he reached back, pulling his shirt over his head. 

You took the bare skin as an invitation to start kissing. Placing small wet, open-mouthed kisses over his pale chest and nipples. Nate groaned, his hands falling to your thighs, his fingers digging in as he rocked his hips up fucking into you. You were already keyed up, ready to cum at the slightest movements. 

"Na-nate," you hummed, licking at his skin. 

"Tell me what you need, baby girl," he slurred. 

"Fuck me; you said you would" You tried to keep your whine under control.

"I did, didn't I?" he hummed like he had forgotten the promise he made, his fingers digging into your thighs. 

He moved without another word, getting off the couch, holding you, his throbbing cock still buried deep inside you as he placed you at the end of the sofa, laying you out for him. 

"God, look at you," Nate panted, pushing in deeper, his thumbs tucking into your hip as he pushed in. 

"Fuck come on, Nate."

He didn't need anything else; he started fucking hard, fast, and as deep as your body would let him. His hips snapping against yours. Little "ah ah ah" sounds fell from your lips as Nate fucked into your harder; the wet slurping sound your body made around Nate would be embarrassingly disgusting if it wasn't so hot. 

"Na-Nate fuck” you whined, feeling the familiar heat of an orgasm building in the lowest part of your stomach once more, your hands left your sides grabbing at his arms. "I'm gonna."

You couldn't even get the words out before you felt Nate's thumb push down on your clit rougher than expected. 

"I wanna feel it, baby; come on," he pushed, his words sweet like he really wanted it. 

That was it. That boiling heat in your stomach rushed toward your legs as you came hard around Nate. He hissed and followed your action filling you deeply with warm spurts of cum as he shook and fell toward your body, refusing to pull out. 

You felt like you blacked out a little; the next time you opened your eyes, you took a few shaky breaths feeling Nate's lips on your neck, sucking tiny marks there. He was still buried inside you, albeit he wasn't as rock-hard as he had been. 

"You okay?" he asked, feeling your arms where you wrapped them around his shoulders, holding his warm heavy body over yours.

"Mmhm," you hummed, closing your eyes again. 

Nate finally moved, slipping out of your with a wet slide. The noise was gross, making you both chuckle. 

"I think we need a shower," Nate suggested. 

You smiled, then reached up, doing the childish "grabby hands" move forcing a groan from Nate as he rolled his eyes. 

"Come on, you big baby," he chirped, picking you up off the couch. 

"Thank you," you hummed, kissing his chest just below his collarbone.

Nate breathed in through your hair, wrapping his arms around you. 

"Come on, shower time, then bed." 

"How about shower then round two?" You suggested with a suggestive wink. 

"Shower then. We'll see what happens, baby" Nate leaned down, kissing you gently, his teeth nipping at your lips before he pulled away with a smirk.

#nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon #nate mac #nate mackinnon #the dogg #hes really hot #colorado avalanche #i love this man #a lot #and like #let me cockwarm you while you play video games #oops #imagine #hockey blurb #hockey smut #nhl writing #nhl smut

[gojous-exbabymama]

random headcanon about some of the jjk boy’s during sexy time

warning: smut, 18+, mdni, aged up characters, daddy kink, size kink, anal sex, crying, oral(f/m), unprotected sex, fluff, slight angst if you squint, loss of virginity, and injury to reader but nothing serious

——————————————————————————

gojou saturo

“that time you sneezed” + “caught a cramp so bad he almost passed out”

- sex with gojou is always fun

- hate to admit it but it’s true

- it’s unpredictable yet super exciting

- don’t tell him that tho or else he’ll never shut up

- your back was arched against the sturdy kitchen table with your legs bent and pushed to your chest

- gojou was thrusting into you just right, hitting that spot deep inside you that had you screaming

- “yes, yes. right there d-dont stop!”

- “right there princess? am i hitting your special spot?”

- “you don’t have to answer that, i know i am~”

- “go on, scream louder for daddy, let em’ know just how good im making you feel”

- if you weren’t too focus on cumming you would of told him to shut the fuck up but he was making you feel good

- and you learned a long time ago that he doesn’t need to hear it from your lips to know, your body spoke for you

- the knot in your belly was growing tighter

- you were so close, your cries letting him know

- gojou glances down at you, watching your tits bounce with each thrust as your face twisted in pleasure

- “aww y/n-chan, i wish you could see the faces you’re making”

- gojou grips a hand to your face, squishing your cheeks together hard

- “soo cute princess~” he coos mockingly, watching as your face scrunched up, eyes going watery and nose twitching

- you felt it right then, the small tickling sensation in your nose that had you breathing picking up

- mustering up all your strength, you pulled your face out of his palm and turned away

- before he could say anything cheeky, you were letting out sneeze, after sneeze, after sneeze, after sneeze-

- if gojou wasn’t so balls deep inside you he would of thought it was cute

- but no, your body tensed and jerked with each sneeze that it had you clenching so tight around his cock he couldn’t even move

- the loud whine and groan pulls you out of your sneezing frenzy as you watch gojou’s body shaking, all movement coming to a halt was he tilts his head back

- that’s when you felt it, rope after rope of his hot cum painting your walls

- followed by a loud, painful yelp coming from him as he pulls out swiftly, gripping the back of his thigh

- you sat up quickly but was forced back down from his body weight alone as you feel him go slack against you

- “saturo?” you tapped him but didn’t get a response for a few moments until he shot his head up

- “oh my god, i just came so hard i got a cramp and almost passed out!”

- you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at that as he pouts a little, hands rubbing up and down your sides

- “it wasn’t my fault you were squeezing my dick so tight I couldn’t stop myself”

- “am I hearing the great gojou saturo has no self control?”

- you were only teasing but he took that as a challenge as he gripped your legs, pulling them up and onto his shoulders, his dripping tip rubbing against your folds

- “gojou wait, i need to-need to clean my nose!!”

- he waste no time and pushes his length back inside you, ready to punish you for thinking he was weak

- “leave it, you look cute with a runny nose anyways princess~”

- your face was covered in tears, snot, and his cum by the time he was down with you

—————————————————————————-

megumi fushiguro

“cumming way to fast” + “that time he accidentally got it in your eye”

- being a sorcerer was stressful asf

- he was exhausted literally all the time and getting injured left him bed bond for most days

- megumi barely had time to even relax

- but that’s what you were there for

- your weren’t one to brag or anything but you thought you were good at sex

- and megumi always made sure to tell you just how good you felt

- weather it’s your pussy squeezing him or the tight feeling of your throat wrapped around his throbbing length

- so to say that you felt a wee bit cocky the first time he came just seconds after bottoming out of you would be an understatement

- but you made sure to comfort him when you notice the pout and frustrated look on his face

- “that’ll never happen again” he mumbled out before cleaning you up

- but it does happen again

- about three more times actually

- and every time he grew more and more pissed at himself

- he was stressed! you knew that so you didn’t knock him if you didn’t finish

- you would tell him that it was ok

- “these kind of things happen gumi’”

- “you’re working yourself too hard baby :/“

- “let me help you relax, pls”

- expect he was never relaxed after cumming so quick inside you

- honestly, you were surprised that he could still get it up from all the stress he carries around

- finally done with finishing first every time, megumi made it his mission to get you right

- which is why he was kneeling between your legs, skirt lifted up with your panties stretched and pulled to the side as he feast on your cunt

- and you were a mess because it has been awhile since you got off and only megumi could make you see stars

- he had you spread wide for him, licking and sucking on your swollen clit that had you moaning just for him

- “ahh megumi please~” you don’t even know what your begging for but he does

- thick fingers thrusting in and out you had you gripping the sheets while your thighs tremble

- tale tale sign that you’re about to cum so he takes his fingers from out of you

- before you could whine at the loss, he’s soon thrusting his tongue inside your weeping pussy, ready to catch everything you give him

- “gumi i-im gonna cum for you!”

- “do it, cum for me kitten, cum right on my tongue”

- your body shook as you cum around the stiff muscle of his tongue, thigh squeezing around his head as you grip and pull on his hair hard

- he lets you come down, pressing kisses along your thighs before he stands up, stripping himself out of his clothes

- switching spots, you kiss along his stomach before reaching for his throbbing cock

- giving small licks against the tip to catch his precum dripping as he groans

- your mouth waters and you don’t wait a second longer before you took him in your mouth

- bobbing your head up and down, moaning when you feel him thrusting slowly in your mouth to match your rhythm

- you were just getting started when your eyes meet his right as you take him to the back of his throat

- big mistake

- the hand that has a grip your hair grows tight as he cums down your throat with a loud groan

- it caught you off guard and you didn’t have much time to prepare for his large load

- you pull off his length with a cough, he’s cum dripping from your lips as his load finishes on your face

- megumi hearing you gasping loudly brings him back to earth when he sees your head slight bent with one of your eyes squeezed shut

- “y/n?” calls as you hiss, shooting him a small glare is when he sees why

- “your cum got in my eye megumi.”

- “i-im sorry ba-“

- “dont just stare get me a towel!!”

- after cleaning you up and feeding you, megumi laid on top of you as you cuddle him closer

- he apologized more than enough you’re gonna have to give him kisses to settle him down

- “it’s ok honey, i still thought it was hot.”

- megumi could only groan, pouting as he watch you grin

- “you could say that i didn’t see it coming, huh huh?”

- megumi groaned once more as he buries his face into your neck

- yeah he definitely wasn’t going to let that happen again

————————————————————————————————————————itadori yuuji

“that time it was your first time” + “was that a mouth on the side of his cheek?”

- bby boi

- you can’t really say what sex is truly like with yuuji

- since you’ve never had it with him because you were a virgin

- and he was fine with that, he’ll wait for as long as you liked

- the first time it almost happened was back in him dorm during his 3rd year

- you both talked about it and agreed to have your first time be together so a week later, yuuji had the perfect night planned for you

- he really pulled out all the stops

- we’re talking warm scented candles, rose petals, soft music playing in the background and your favorite take out

- it was actually really romantic ngl

- after dessert you found yourself laying back on his bed, making out with such passion it left you feeling buzzed

- everything was slow, both your movements gentle when taking off each other clothes

- giggling and kissing the nerves away

- yuuji reached for you bra, getting it undone with easy

- his eyes in your body from your breast down to your thighs rubbing together, pretty pink panties covering center

- “you’re so beautiful baby” he whispers

- it was moment were you took each other in before you reached for his hand, bringing it up to where you wanted him to touch you first

- your eyes closing shut once you feel his warm hand squeezing and caressing your breast, gasping softly when you feel his thumb brushing over your nipple

- his lips leaving yours before kissing down to your neck had you feel needy

- the room filling with sounds of your pleasing sighs and his heavy breathing

- all of it cut short by the sound of a low rugged voice

- “what are you waiting for? just fuck her already”

- your eyes shot open and you couldn’t stop the loud scream from your lips

- because why the fuck was there a mouth on his cheek and an eye under his eye??!?

- once you pulled the sheets over your naked body did yuuji realize what had happened

- he slaps a hand over his cheek so hard he knocked himself out of bed

- ok so maybe he didn’t tell you everything about why he was at the academy and in hindsight, he probably should of told you everything before he had you naked

- after calming you down and getting a ice pack does he tell you about how he ate an ancient cursed finger and now there is a very powerful curse living inside of him

- it was definitely hard for you to wrap your head around this information because you weren’t a sorcerer, you didnt see demons or cursed things or even knew about those kind of things

- so yeah, you were a bit freaked out, a little upset and needed sometime to think so you left

- yuuji understood and gave you as much time as you needed but he was literally dying on the inside without his baby

- he was mopey, quiet, and just overall sad to be around because he missed you so much

- finally after a few days you reached out and invited him over to your place

- tear was shed and yuuji apologizing profusely

- “im sorry y/n i love you so much, i dont want to lose you”

- “you’re not going to lose me yuuji, i love you to much for that to happen just promise me no more secret mkay?”

- he agreed with a kiss that quickly turned heated and you were back in your room

- “he’s not going to..ya know?”

- yuuji quickly shutting it down because “nope, him and i have a deal, he won’t be coming out when it’s just us, i promise”

- that’s enough to put you at ease and soon enough, clothes were thrown off and you two were finally connected

- yuuji thrust were gentle, making it easier for you to get used to his size

- his fingers rubbing circles on your clit left your body shaking and your pussy clenching around him

- and when you both cum at the same time, you’re gripping and holding each other tight

- yeah he may have shedded a tear or two when he came it was just that good

- aftercare king where he cleans you up and cuddles, whispering ‘i love you’s and soft kisses

- “promise me you won’t die yuuji”

- there’s a pause before you feel his lips kiss your forehead

- “im not going anywhere baby, i love you”

- he promised no more secrets but right now he can’t tell you what will happen the day he finds that last finger

- but for now, he’s content with just holding you until then

———————————————————————————————————————

aoi todo

“that time you slapped him” + “he literally blew your back out”

- the time you’ve seen todo first time was shirtless

- you were terrified and turned on because what the fuck?

- no seriously, what the fu ck¿!

- dude is massive

- like was it even legal to be that massive?

- and when he dropped his pants for you the first time, you straight up walked out the room because there ain’t no way in hell

- “that thing is not going anywhere near my pussy”

- “please babygirl, just the tip?”

- it took a very, very long time before you even allowed that

- not even when your mouth watered or your pussy went purr

- his cock was just too big

- but after awhile you kinda got used to him once you realize all your insides were still in tact

- you’ve had some sex mishap, that was much was a given since this is todo we’re speak off

- you slapped the shit out of him one time when you heard him moan some idols name while he had his dick down your throat

- you didn’t let him touch you for almost a month

- he learned his lesson quick tho

- or that time he was fucking you standing up

- legs hanging over his broad shoulders while his hands held a tight grip on your ass bouncing you up and down on his thick cock

- you were three rounds in, body hot and covered in sweat

- the room filled with sounds of your moans, his deep grunts and the sickly wet squishing sound of your pussy

- todo was abusing your whole, having just made you squirt all over his cock had sent him into a frenzy, his pace picking up at a new speed

- until he took a step forward, his foot slipping out from under him, sending him falling back but he was quick enough to reach out to grip the dresser behind him

- but not quick enough to stop the stacks of manga from falling on top of you both

- one word to describe sex with this beefy man: passion

- everything he did in bed was always him trying to show just how much of a man he is and that only he could satisfy you

- whenever he was done with you, your limps were sore and achy

- it felt like you ran a marathon then swam six miles and back

- meanwhile he barely broke a sweat

- todo always made sure you were left spent and satisfied

- no matter when or where

- and he saw you bending over, getting a small peak of the underside of your perfect ass, he had to have you

- so that’s how you found yourself in a small closet, it could fit two people comfortably

- but todo made up at least three on his own so there was barely any room but that doesn’t stop him from fucking your ass

- you held your upper half up by gripping onto the shelve in front of you as his large hands grip and squeeze your plush ass

- “thats it babygirl, doing so good”

- it felt so good taking him like this, his heavy balls slapping against your soaked cunt while he pounds his throbbing length in and out your ass

- hands slapping each cheek before leaving you spread open to watch him fuck you

- “f-fuck so tight!” he thrust harder, pushing your body forward “you love when i fuck you with this big cock don’t you?”

- you move a hand back to try and slow his movement but he only grabs it and keeps his held to your back

- “too much d-daddy..s’ too big!”

- but he keeps going, grinning wildly when he heard that

- todo stretched you out good for him and it was still to much cock for you

- your cries and moans bounce off the walls, your grip on the shelf growing loose the faster he went

- he sends another hard spank against your ass before his fingers found your needy clit

- pinching and rubbing quick circles around the bud had you gushing

- “oh fuck yeah, you filthy girl cumming from getting your ass fucked? so dirty”

- your body shakes as you tongue rolls out your mouth, panting and whining like a bitch in heat

- “fucking needy, perfect girl just for me” he growls, his hips picking up speed as he chases his high

- “t-to..slow..down”

- you could barely get any words out, your brain slowly turning to mush as you become nothing but a toy for him to cum inside

- he was going feral, loving that he can turn you so dumb from just his cock alone

- the sound of wood cracking catches your attention before the shelf you’re gripping breaks, sending the front of your body forward down

- the scream you let out make todo halt all his movements, his big hands and large arms holds your middle to keep you up right as you start to sob

- “w-what’s wrong?”

- “can’t move…it hurts!!”

- white hot pain shoot through your back as you body goes stiff

- five hours later you’re being wheeled out the hospital with strict orders to not leave the bed

- you made todo swear not to tell anyone about this and swore on takada’s life that he wouldn’t tell

- but when yuuji comes to visit and ask what happened, here comes this big guy

- “it was my dick, my dick put her in a wheelchair brother!!”

- please slap him again sis

————————————————————————————————————————



#pls #I want to get railed by ✨all of them✨ #when you let you mind and fingers run wild #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru #gojo headcanons #gojo saturo x black reader #gojou smut #megumifushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi smut #megumi headcanons #megumi x black reader #itadori yuuji #itadori yuuji x reader #yuuji headcanons #yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #yuuji x black reader #aoi todo #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo smut #aoi todo headcanon #jjk megumi #jjk gojo #jjk yuuji #jjk aoi #jjk smut #jjk headcanons

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

can you pleasee do pt 2 to draco fucking his arranged marriage wife of the next day the reader being needy saying that she can’t get enough of him while he’s working in his office and he’s like “babe im busy😑” but then rails tf outta her right there😀 with like praise and daddy kink😩😩😩

read part 1 here

pairing: draco malfoy x reader

word count: 3.0k

warning(s): 18+, dom/sub roles, daddy kink, praise, slight degradation/humiliation, mentions of arranged marriage

a/n: i have been so excited to write a part two to this imagine the second i got the request. there will also be a part three coming soon so if you like these stay tuned! these have to be my favorite ones i've ever written.

It was the day after your marriage truly started. Although you and your husband, Draco Malfoy, had been married for weeks, the marriage truly began yesterday.

It had been a whirlwind.

It all began with you fucking your ex boyfriend, something you did in a desperate attempt to receive physical contact and get out of the house you had thought to be a prison.

When your husband came home, you decided it would be a brilliant idea to tell him. It was an arranged marriage, one that he did not seem enthusiastic to be a part of, so you figured there would be no hard feelings.

You were incredibly, incredibly wrong.

He had a lot of feelings about your adultery, but not only was there the anger and jealousy you were expecting, there was sadness. That had taken you by surprise, and only after poking the dragon, you finally consummated your marriage with your husband. Right there on the couch of the entrance hall.

After he had fucked you silly, you both reached the agreement that you would actually try to work as a real marriage. You had both made mistakes, and you were both ready and excited to move past those and really try to build a relationship out of what you had both thought was doomed from the start.

Which was why you were in front of his study, a hand raised and ready to knock, the following evening. He had been in there most of the day, working on a project for what you had learned to be connected to the Malfoy’s family business, but you were ready to put an end to his work day in the best way you knew how.

Your hand had barely connected with the wood when you heard a curt “Come in,” from the other side of the door.

You opened the door slowly and walked in, taking in the sight before you. There were papers scattered all over the desk, inkwells and quills mixed into the mess. Either you caught him at a bad time, or he wasn’t as tidy as you had assumed.

But it wasn’t the desk that caught your eye. It was him.

His button down shirt was rolled up the elbows at the cuffs. His hands, already littered with rings, were smudged with ink and deftly writing something down on a piece of parchment. There wasn’t a single hair out of place on his head, but what struck you were his glasses. You didn’t even know he wore glasses. But he looked damn good in them, because of course he fucking did.

“Yes?” He asked, a smug smile on his face as he watched you openly check him out. You hadn’t even realized he had looked up from the parchment he had been writing on.

“Just figured you could use a break, dinner’s ready,” you explained, quickly catching yourself.

“I’ll be out in a bit. I just need to finish this bit up,” he replied, an obvious dismissal but you had had enough of that over the past two weeks to last a lifetime.

“Draco, you’ve obviously been at this for a while. Just come take a break,” you argued defiantly, happy with the knowledge you finally felt comfortable enough to do so.

“Y/N, I’m busy,” he said gently, clearly not wanting to break the carefully made balance you had just created with a silly argument, but you couldn’t help yourself.

You admitted it to yourself when you walked in the room. You didn’t really want him to take a break just to have dinner with you. No. You wanted him to take a break so he would fuck you right over his desk.

“You can finish it later,” you continued, your arms crossed over your chest as you waited for his eventual push back.

But his argument never came.

Slowly, painfully slow, he began to stack up his papers in neat piles to put them away. Next were the inkwells being covered and finally the quills being put away. All without a word between you both.

When his desk was cleared, he finally turned his attention back to you.

“You come into my study and argue with me over taking a break just to go eat dinner. You haven’t bothered to ask me to dinner once over the past few weeks. So is it really dinner that’s got you so riled up, or is it something else?” He asked straight faced, but the twinkle in his eye led you to believe he knew exactly why you were arguing.

“Can’t a wife just want to spend time with her husband?” You argued, but it didn’t hold the impact you wanted the words to have.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said, pushing his chair back just slightly. “Come here,” he commanded, crooking his fingers in your direction.

With just two silly little words your skin was flushed and your nerves were on fire. You weren’t sure what type of hold this man had over you, but it ran deep for only having just fucked him the day before for the first time.

You followed his command without a second thought, and it led you to standing right between his spread legs with your back pressed up against his now pristine desk.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think my wife just wants to get fucked. Am I correct?” He asked, raking his eyes over your body greedily, taking in every inch of you. You were just lucky you dressed to impress tonight in a perfect, form-fitting black cocktail dress. It didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“Yes,” you answered easily, completely giving up the fight now that you could see the hunger that you felt reflected in his eyes.

He gave you a slow smile before dragging you down to straddle his lap, perfectly placing you so you could feel his growing erection against your core as he kissed you roughly. It was perfect after a day of craving him so fiercely, and you knew this was only the appetizer.

His hands possessively roamed your body as he continued to dominate your kiss, finally landing on your ass to pull you closer against him. Your hands made quick work of taking his glasses off and gently placing them on the desk somewhere behind you before trailing through his hair, messing up his perfectly placed platinum locks.

You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding down on him, moans spilling from both of your lips at the friction. He let you do as you please for a few minutes, just enjoying kissing you and having you in his lap, but once your hands went to undo the buttons on his shirt, he gripped your hips roughly and pushed you back.

“Let’s get one thing straight, pretty girl. I’m in charge, and you’ll be a good girl and do as I say, won’t you?” He asked, running a thumb along your lower lip as he spoke.

You bit his finger gently before answering, and your answer only riled him up more than the bite did.

“Yes, Daddy.”

And just like that he unleashed himself on you, much like he had done the day before.

He had you on your feet and spun around faster than you could even blink. Within the next breath, your dress was being stripped off of your body and thrown across the room, your breasts exposed. When he had you bent over the desk with just a thong on, he finally opened his mouth again.

“You’re gonna be a good girl for Daddy, aren’t you, pretty girl?” He asked, dragging his hands up the back of your thighs until he was grabbing your ass again.

“Yes,” you gasped out, knowing you were already drenched from his words and touch alone.

When you felt his palm connect with your raised ass, you couldn’t hold back the whimper that fell from your lips.

“Yes, what?” He asked, rubbing his hands in circles to soothe the ache, but the contrast of his warm skin and cold rings only left you shaking.

“Yes, Daddy,” you answered, saying the words again.

They were meant to be a joke at first. Just another jest to rile him up and poke at him. But now, after having called him Daddy twice, it was starting to feel right. Like this was exactly the dynamic you were meant to be in with him.

“So much better. Look at you, already dripping down your thighs,” he mused, his finger trailing up your thigh in what you could only assume was a patch of wetness, a blush falling over your face at the thought.

He dragged your thong down your legs and slowly freed your feet before tossing the scrap of fabric across the room as well, leaving you totally exposed.

“Is this what you wanted? To be bent over Daddy’s desk just begging to be fucked?” He asked, his weight pinning you down as he bent over, slowly dragging his lips up the side of your neck as he spoke. You could feel how hard he was against your ass and you fought now to roll your hips into him, but you knew he would put an end to it anyway.

“Please fuck me,” you begged quietly, your words no more than a whisper as you played right into the fantasy he was spinning for the both of you.

“Patience, darling,” he said accompanied by a dark chuckle, but he didn’t leave you wanting.

He kept his weight on you, his lips leaving open mouth kisses on your neck that were sure to leave bruises for the coming days, but he dragged a finger up your slit and plunged inside of you.

You were so on edge that the one finger almost made you cum right then, but of course he was careful to make sure that didn’t happen. He teased you along until one finger turned into two, and by then you were a writhing mess on his desk.

“Daddy, please. I’m ready. Just fuck me,” you begged impatiently, all of your focus on him and his miraculous fingers.

Silently, he pulled back to stand up fully behind you. For a moment, you thought you’d be getting what you wanted, but you should have known it was too good to be true. You weren’t getting fucked until he thought you were ready.

You felt his thumbs pull your lips apart, and you knew all of his focus was right on you, right on where you were a dripping mess for him and that had you fighting not to squirm under his gaze.

“I told you to be patient, pretty girl. Or are you just that desperate to cum you couldn’t help yourself? Because this pretty little hole isn’t ready for me yet,” he mused, and his words forced an unexpected moan out of you.

You were exposed and aching, a true flushed mess in front of him, while he was a master of poise and control, still fully clothed behind you. Something about the situation made your head spin and your knees weak, and you knew you were in for a wild ride with this man. But you were willing to take anything and everything he threw your way because there was no denying you were enjoying every second of this. Not when he was holding you open obscenely and could see the evidence for himself.

“I want to cum,” you answered honestly, your breasts grinding on the desk and you arched your back, further exposing yourself in the hopes that he would fulfill your wishes.

While still holding you open, he used one gentle finger to stroke over your clit and it was just enough pressure to cause a shiver to run down your spine. If he kept it up, you knew you’d cum in seconds. “Go ahead, cum for me. Let me watch you make a mess of yourself,” he commanded, keeping the gentle pressure on your clit.

You came with a scream, your legs shaking beneath you. The desk was the only reason you stayed up, otherwise you would have collapsed from the force of your orgasm right there. It felt like one of the most intense orgasms of your life, all just from a little flick of his finger.

As you came down, you were gasping for air, just as desperate for your next breath as you were for Draco’s cock. No matter how mind shattering your orgasm had been, you were still craving more. You’d always crave more from him.

“That was beautiful, darling - watching you clench around nothing as you screamed for me. I think you’re ready for my cock now,” he mused, slowly stroking his hands up and down your back in an effort to calm your body, but every nerve was on fire from his touch.

“Please, please, fuck me Draco. I need you,” you were begging shamelessly now, not even worried about making a fool of yourself in this new marriage. You were both too invested in this moment to care, both of you just knew you needed each other.

“Shh, you have me, pretty girl. I’m right here,” he soothed, placing gentle kisses on your shoulders as he worked to free his cock behind you. “Stay just like that.”

You didn’t even know he had succeeded in taking his cock out until you felt his tip against your entrance, and he didn’t wait a second longer. He plunged into you like he was just as desperate as you were, which by the way he was fucking you in brutal strokes, you could tell he was.

Your hands clutched the edge of the desk for dear life, your knuckles a bright white against the dark oak wood. With every thrust, your hips collided with the sharp edge, sure to leave some marks for you to admire the next day.

You could feel the power behind each deep, hard stroke and you knew he was giving you his all. The previous night had been kind and sweet compared to the brutal fucking he was giving you now. You felt fucked within an inch of your life and he had barely even started.

“Fuck, Y/N. You take me so fucking well. So perfect,” he praised, not even sounding out of breath. Meanwhile, you couldn’t even control the noises that were coming from your mouth.

You climbed up the peak steadily, but even in your cock drunk daze you knew this orgasm would wipe you out. Once you were about to reach the edge, he pulled out.

“No, please, fuck. I was so close,” you whined, but a startled gasp came out of your mouth next when he lifted you up and spun you around, your back crashing back down on the desk with a gentle thud.

You finally got the chance to look at him, then. His cock was hard and aching, on the verge of falling over the edge himself. His hair was disheveled and he had that glow that only sex could bring coming from his perfect skin, but when you locked eyes you couldn’t look away. His silver eyes were clouded with lust and possession, a man closing in for the kill on his prey. It was terrifying and arousing all at once, but you were sure your own eyes reflected something similar.

Draco wasted no time in hoisting your legs over his shoulders and coming down to take your lips in a brutal kiss just before fucking back into you, his pace the same as it had been in the previous position. He swallowed your moans greedily, but finally pulled back to just concentrate on your face.

“I needed to look at you when you came on my cock. Show me how pretty you look when you fall apart for me,” he ordered, but his voice was gentle and there was a smile fighting to tug on his face. It didn’t hold the same dominance his previous commands did, but you followed it all the same.

One, two, three thrusts later you came with his name on your lips as he fucked you through it. It was like your whole world blacked out and only the two of you existed, suspended in this moment as he stared down at your blissed out face. He followed you shortly, and the feel of him emptying himself inside of you accompanied by the litany of choked out praises he was giving you was almost enough to push you into a third orgasm.

You both stayed like that as the minutes passed, chest to chest and near face to face as you caught your breath. It was no easy feat after an orgasm like that, but finally he was wrapping you in his arms and balancing you in his lap as he got comfortable in his desk chair once again.

“Was that too much?” He asked, the concern dripping from his voice as he tenderly brushed your hair from your face.

You could have laughed at his concern. That was the best sex you had ever had in your life, and he was asking if it was too much. But you didn’t want to worry him.

“Draco, that was perfect. I loved every second of it,” you told him honestly, tilting your head up so you could look him in the eye so he would have no room for doubt.

It was him who laughed then, in sheer disbelief of the woman curled up in his lap. “I got too lucky with you. You’re perfect,” he said with a smile, a small kiss to your forehead following his words.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you insisted, curling further into his chest as the events of the evening finally wore on your body. It was comfortably silent for a few minutes as he held you, until you remembered why you had truly come into his study in the first place. “But I was serious when I came in. Dinner’s ready,” you reminded him with a slight giggle.

“How about I get you up to bed and we eat dinner in bed, hm?” He asked, already lifting you up and carrying you towards the door.

“Sounds perfect,” you said, relaxing against his strong chest as he continued to prove just how lucky you were to end up in this arranged marriage.

#harry potter #draco malfoy blurb #draco malfoy drabble #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy smut #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #draco one shot

[another-stark-sub]

“Are you in love with him?” - Tony Stark Imagine

Notes: I wrote and editted this in two hours instead of going over my notes. Was gonna be spicy fluffy but it just turned into fluffy, and one of the lines/paragraphs (smth like that i dont remember how long that segment was) is based on/inspired by a fanfic on ao3 I bookmarked. I think it’s debt-free, but I could be wrong.  Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and I’m so sorry im not on here more oftennnnn

- - -

“Of course I am. He’s Tony Stark.” You sighed, a weight finally lifted off your chest. “Who isn’t in love with him?”

Bruce blinked a few times, the confusion evident on his face. “Then, why don’t you tell him?”

You scoffed. These geniuses think they know everything, but they couldn’t see what was glaringly obvious to you. “He’s Tony Stark.”

The perplexed expression didn’t disappear from your friend’s expression. So, you explained further, “It’s already a privilege, beyond that really, to be talking to you, to any Avenger. To work with any of you is an honor, and to be friends with you” -you laughed- “it shouldn’t even be possible for someone like me.”

“Don’t say that. You’re amazing, too.” 

You tried to find any tick, any clue that he was lying. But Bruce seemed to really believe this. “I know I’m amazing.” You shrugged. “I’m great. I love and I care deeply, and I have a stable job. I have a place for myself, and I take care of myself.” You clicked your tongue. “However, you all, all  you Avengers… Forget out of my league, more like off planet.

“And Tony? He said it himself. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Add superhero, figurehead, public figure, ex-CEO, and savior of the universe. Bruce, I have confidence in myself, but Tony is something else entirely. No one is worthy of him or his affections unless they’re a god or another Avenger.”

It was hard to keep up with the statistical analysis you were trying to run. The literal one on your hologram and the one keeping your view of Tony in check. So, defeated, you sighed and leaned back in your chair. 

Bruce closed his own work and stood across the lab bench. “Weirdly enough, I’m sure none of us Avengers think that way.” After a few taps of his pen against his palm, he added, “Aren’t there fans making posts about you, too? Tony showed me the, uh, Instagram videos.”

You laughed. “Fan edits don’t make an Avenger. Saving the world does.”

He shrugged. “You help us save the world.”

“From inside Avengers Tower on a computer.” You took a deep breath. “Look, Bruce, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But, I’m not telling him.” You shrugged and brought your statistical analysis back up.

You knew your own worth. You were worthy of an amazing partner and person. Tony Stark, though, was easy beyond that. You had accepted it soon after you realized your own feelings, and while they haven’t dwindled, you knew it was for the best. 

~ - ~

Tony had never resorted to this before. It was never a question of his ability to code. In the past, it was because he didn’t need a program or an AI to do it for him. He could always tell if someone was into him. He knew when Pepper was into him. The moment Rhodey gazed at him back in their MIT days. Every single reporter and heiress and model he slept with, he knew when their thoughts turned sexual or romantic. 

You, though. With you, he couldn’t fucking tell, and he knew it was because of his own feelings. Tony felt intensely for people before. Pepper, Rhodey, that one reporter all those years ago. However, with you, it wasn’t just that fluttery feeling in his gut or the immediate smile he can’t seem to stop when he sees you. It was the comfort he felt when he heard your voice or the softness he could feel in his heart when he saw a picture of you. 

It was like his entire life was full of panic, never resting, never stopping. But when you entered his life with a gentle smile and a quick wit, it felt like he could finally breathe. 

It was addicting. 

“Sir, I have the calculations.”

“Hit me.”

“Speech diagnostics of you and of Ms. (Y/l/n) are similar. Whenever you speak of her, 79.4% is positive and 18.8% is neutral. Ms. (Y/l/n) has  78.9% positive and 17.2% neutral dialogue regarding you. When she speaks of you, her heartrate increases by 4.6%, and similarly, yours increases by 4.1%. When speaking to each other, heartrate initially increases by 7%.”

Tony nodded. “How does this compare to other Avengers? I gush about Banner like a teenager.”

“Well, sir, while you and Ms. (Y/l/n) have high positive dialogue about other Avengers, all of them have at least a 10% decrease compared to each other. And heartrate varies depending on the topic of conversation.”

Tony snapped his fingers. “Am I excluding all non-super friends? Include any agents, co-workers. Pep isn’t an Avenger after all.”

Friday took two seconds and responded. “You and Ms. (Y/l/n) have a significant difference in speech diagnostics when talking about or to each other compared to any other Avenger, co-worker, and friend.”

When Tony remained quiet, Friday added, “Do you want me to repeat the results?”

“You don’t need to, Friday.”

“But you’re not doing anything with the new information. Would you like me to save these findings?”

“Friday,” Tony warned. 

There was silence as the love-wrecked scientist pressed his fist between his brows. Data and cold hard facts said yes, but was it right?

“Sir?”

“Yes, Fri?”

“Would you like me to play examples for you?”

He blinked. “Examples?”

“Yes. Of you and her talking about each other positively.”

It was an invasion of privacy. Tony shouldn’t. 

“Play examples.”

Before his rational mind could tell Friday no. 

“Are you in love with him?”

Tony’s eyes widened. This was too private. It might not even be about him.”Friday-”

“Of course I am.”

“-stop playback.”

“He’s Tony Sta-”

“Playback stopped.”

Tony scrambled. “What? No, wait, go back. Play it.” Screw rational. You knew he was a narcissist. You wouldn’t expect him to hear that and stop. 

“He’s Tony Stark. Who isn’t in love with him?”

“Then, why don’t you tell him?”

“... He’s Tony Stark.”

Tony started to fiddle with something on his desk. “What does that mean?”

Friday answered, “Dr. Banner asked her if she loved you, and she said yes. This means that she’s in love with you.”

Why did he program Friday like this? “I know that. I mean, those two lines. Why does me being Tony Stark stop her from saying something?” Was it the attention? Did you want some sort of normal life away from cameras and international gossip? Maybe it was the Avenging. Having a partner who was always out risking death wasn’t ideal. 

Sure, you could be in love with him. But you couldn’t be with him. 

“Maybe you should ask her.”

There were celebrities who were able to live normal lives. Some paid to have prosthetics for going outside of moved to a remote country to get out of the spotlight. He thrived off attention, but he could give that up. Avenging, he couldn’t give that up, but maybe he could cut back. Take a mission a month instead of one a week. Or maybe take more digital missions. He wasn’t just Iron Man after all. He was a genius, could hack into the Pentagon if he really wanted to. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe I could talk to her.”

~ - ~

The moment you put your bag down on your lab table, Tony said, “You’re gonna be mad.”

You narrowed your brows. “What did you do?” You pressed your palm to your chest. “Oh my god, Peter overwrote my data, didn’t he? Ugh, I know he said he’s great at managing holograms, but really, Tone, you should’ve given him a tutorial before giving him access.” You brought up your holograms to check your data and analysis. 

“That’s not it.” Tony stood next to you as you looked through your files. “I did something that invaded your privacy.”

You tilted your head. Closing the holograms, you took a deep breath and slowly asked, “How?”

Tony flashed an embarrassed grin before sighing. “You’re gonna be shocked, too, so prepare yourself.”

You did not know where this was going at all. What horrible thing could Tony have done? Steeling yourself, you took a deep breath and nodded at him to continue. 

Tony cleared his throat. “Usually, I can tell when someone has feelings for me. People are obvious about it, but you? You aren’t. So, I had Friday do some analysis on our speech patterns. Me, being in love with you, was one of my controls. You and your dialogue regarding me was the main variable. 

“Long story short, I accessed some audio of you and Bruce talking, and you said that you loved me but could never tell me.” He glanced at you. “So that’s why I need to apologize.” 

Your expression didn’t change. No, that wasn’t it. You, at first, looked confused. Now, there was just nothing. No expression. No wrinkled brow in anger of flushed cheeks in embarrassment. Nothing. 

Tony blinked. “You can shout at me now. If you were confused about when to shout at me.”

You licked your lips before taking a deep breath. “Ok, that was a lot.” You pursed your lips then opened it. But, you couldn’t really think of anything to say. You didn’t even know how to feel. “So you know that I” -you pointed at yourself and then at him- “and that I didn’t wanna tell you.” You shook your head. “Wait, do you know why I didn’t want to tell you?”

A broken scoff left Tony’s lips. “Yeah. I’m a mess.”

It was your turn to scoff. “Wait, you’re a mess? That’s why you think I don’t want to tell you?”

“Among other reasons?”

Other reasons? 

You crossed your arms. “Ok, what other reasons?”

Tony looked offended. Still, he listed, “I’m surrounded by cameras, and everyone wants some privacy. Can’t get it if you’re with me. Then, there’s the Iron Man of it all. I went into a wormhole with a nuke. That was also all over the news. Then, there’s the whole daddy issues thing. I’m working on it, but it takes a while-”

He rambled on and on, listing reason after reason, and with each one, you felt tears well up in your eyes. It was a weird mix of heartbreaking, confusing, and enraging. The emotions built up slowly with each word that left his mouth, overwhelming you to the point that you couldn’t even say how it happened. 

But, as Tony paced and talked so horribly about himself, you somehow ended up in front of him with your hands on his cheeks. 

You only realized it when Tony stopped talking and when his breath touched your lips. “What?” he asked. 

You didn’t answer. You kissed him instead. 

It was a hard press of  your lips against his. It was short, and it wasn’t much. 

But by the way Tony gripped the back of your neck and pulled you back for another kiss, you’d think it was his first kiss. You knew it wasn’t. Not just because you knew he had kissed all sorts of people before you, but because he somehow knew how to make you gasp and melt into him. 

While one hand kept you steady, the other trailed down your back and pulled you closer to him. His lips moved fluidly against yours, pushing and pulling, and everytime he moved back, you chased his lips to continue the kiss, because the softness, the passion, the fact it was finally happening, was all too good. You didn’t want it to stop.

Your hands started to move. For someone so rich, his t-shirt was rough when you twisted it between your fingers and pulled it to you. Slowly, you trailed your fingers along the side of his neck. You rubbed your thumb along his pulse point, a reminder that this was indeed real. You were kissing Tony Stark, and- He was pulling away again.

Desperate, you leaned forward, reached around to hold onto his shoulder, and kissed the side of his neck. 

He let out a breathy laugh, and before you could suck on his skin, his stubble scratched your cheek. 

You looked up at him and giggled when his nose bumped into yours. When your giggles turned into a smile, he kissed you again, a soft and short kiss, before leaning his forehead against yours. 

His thumbs rubbed circles into your waist as you lightly scratched the back of his neck. He didn’t say anything. In fact, he seemed busy gazing at you.

“Speechless, Stark?” you teased. 

He laughed. For a few seconds, he just gazed at you, seeming to prove your point. Tony’s hand began to wander, from stroking your cheek to pushing back your hair. “More confused.”

Remembering why you interrupted him, you brought your hands to his cheeks again and held him there so he couldn’t look away from you. “You are amazing, Tony. That’s the reason I didn’t want to tell you.” You shrugged. “You’re too good for me.”

His fidgeting stopped. “Well, that’s not true.”

“Tony, you’re an Avenger.”

“Technically, you are also an Avenger.”

“You’re a genius.”

“Who can’t cook scrambled eggs.”

“You literally saved the universe.”

“After producing weapons of mass destruction for decades.”

You glared at him. 

He glared back. Then, he fought back. “I don’t plan on retiring.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.”

“I have severe PTSD, anxiety, maybe ADHD, all mixed with trauma galore.”

“And I will learn to help you.”

“I couldn’t give you a normal life.”

“I’d rather have you anyway.”

He opened his mouth, but you instead told him, “I’d rather have you than anything. As long as, well, for as long as  you’ll have me.”

He raised his eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

Tony shook his head with a smile. “Cause, I’d rather have you for, well, how does til you get tired of me sound?”

You laughed. “Won’t happen. But, sure.” You kissed him again.You would’ve kept going, but there was something to settle first.  “By the way, Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Friday recording right now?”

“Friday records everything. It’s in the contract.”

Friday added, “I record everything that happens in the tower.”

“Ok.” You could work with that. “I’ll forgive you for the invasion of privacy.”

Tony beamed, and you couldn’t help your own smile when he did. Still, you continued, “On one condition.” Your own smile turned devious. “I want evidence that Star Spangled Banner took my ice cream.”

Tony burst out laughing. He kissed you again, a deep kiss, and when he was done, he mumbled, “God, I love you,” against your lips.

#tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark oneshot #tony stark #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #mcu oneshot #tony stark fluff #im so sorry im not on here oftennnnnnnnnnnn #dentla schools too busy and i dont wike it #thats not true i do like it its just busy and stressful and doesnt give me time to write #and smut takes me longer to write than fluff #so i can only write fluff rnnnnnn #anyway i miss you all #love you all #hope the universe treats you welllll

[spikesbimbo]

Maneater

♢ make you work hard, make you spend hard, make you want all of her love.

Paring: timeskip,sugar daddy!yaku x f!reader

Tags: established relationship, sugar baby!reader, overstim, face riding, squirting, anal play (fingering) , nipple play,  spanking, pussyjob

wc: 1.7k

a/n: italics is him speaking russian

♢ ♢  for the ditsy ‘n diamonds collab.!

18+ minors dni

 -

“C’mere pretty girl, lemme see.” He said, leaning back onto the bed frame. Arms spread out waiting for you to walk out of your closet, eyes focused on the view of his penthouse while he waited. Time ticking by slowly on his watch as he grew more impatient by the second.

“Like this, daddy?” Your voice breaking him out of his trance, head turning to see you. Eyes instantly locking on your figure, body clad in pretty silk as you made your way towards him. Twirling as you bent over, hands already reaching for your ass. 

“Yeah….fuck.” Licking his dry lips, mouth being embarrassingly open the whole time. Having no shame, eyeing up your pretty little cunt, so soft and wet for him. 

Hes been so good to you; buttering you up, happy girls fuck better. Doesn't like seeing his baby all sad and mopey so he gives you his card and tells you to go wild with it. Coming back home, clinging onto his arm as he walked you to his car, the chilling wind not bothering you with his coat resting on your shoulders.

 Grabbing your ring covered hand in his, resting on your thigh, making no effort to reach further but you still felt your nerves rise. Pretty little pussy all wet from getting so excited. Showing him off the new clothes you got, putting on a little runway show for him. Cunt peeking out from that tiny dress he bought you, no panties as usual.. 

“Want me to kiss it better, baby?” His gentle words tingling into your ear, hands sneaking there way up your dress. “Want daddy to eat that little cunt until you can't think anymore? Just ask, sweetheart. C’mon, beg.” His hands trailing up your thighs as you stood over him, chin resting on your stomach as he looked up at you, feeling your squirm in his touch. Nervously smiling as you tried your hardest to speak under his gaze.

“Y-yes please, yaku.”

“You want it that bad, sweetheart? He asked, running the tip of his fingers over you slit, letting out a mumbled squeal as you stumbled into him. Pulling you onto his lap, thighs resting around his as you led his hands all over you, not being able to resist the little moan escaping your mouth as he adjusted his knee. Grin widening as you hid your face into his collar.

“Mhmm.” you whined, curling your hands into him, newly done nails leaving imprints behind as your tennis bracelets dangled onto his chest.

Leaning back onto the bed as he dragged you with him, straddling his hips as he lifted your tiny little dress above your head, tossing it the side, seeing the mess you were already making on his pants. “Fuck, you’re so wet. That all for me?

Sheepishly nodding, head face his chest as his gaze never left you, hands resting on the top of your thighs. “C’mere baby, want you to sit that little cunt on my face.”

“W-wha-” His words throwing you off guard, the way he could say that so shamelessly making your thighs clench together.

“Don't make me spank your pretty ass of yours until you're a crying mess again.” His impatience rising once more, dragging you up there. Body not resisting as his breath was blowing on your clit, whimpers leaving your mouth as you jerked in his hold.  

“Such a baby, desperate for my attention but you don't even know how to act when you get it. I don't have to take days off for you, but I do. You're such a spoiled little thing, aren't you princess?”

“N-no, no im not!” Eyes stinging with tears as you embarrassingly got wetter.

“Really?” he mumbled into your clit, his ring covered working its way up your thigh, the tingling sensation the cold making you shiver. “Because you sure act like one.” His fingers teasing at your entrance as you were already sobbing, soft lips kissing your needy cunt. Hands gripping onto the headboard, supporting your trembling body.

Cries leaving your mouth as his groans were not helping, the vibrations along with the feeling of feeling full, but not full enough had you growing greedy. A squeal escaping your lips as his middle finger made its way into your ass, shoving his finger all the way in until his knuckles were pressed against your flesh, curling into you ruthlessly, shaking hand moving down to grip his hair. “ya-” 

Feeling his smile under you, shameless grinding on his face, cilt rubbing between his nose and lips as you desperately tried to get yourself off. “y-yak-, daddy. m’gonna -cum”

His fingers fucking into both of your holes, thrusting into you so hard your body is moving with them. His other hand grabbing you tits, pinching your nipples while his mouth was abusing your clit. Head falling back, eyes rolling with it, incoherent words coming out as your body froze, hands still moving as your body twitched. Losing sight and all other senses for a few seconds, only feeling yourself fall into him, chest resting on his head.

“Fuck pretty girl, you just came all over me.” He groaned, eyes lingering on your fucked out body. “Such a messy little girl, sweetheart.” 

“Want more, want you daddy, please” you croaked out into his ear.

“You want daddy’s cock that badly, baby?”

“Yeah…” You whimpered, voice all soft and sweet now. Mind foggy with lust as you gripped onto him.  “Please yaku.”

He flipped you over, body being compliant with him as he pushed your knees to your chest, pulling his boxers down enough to free his cock. Eyes trying their best to stay open while he used his hand to stoke it a few times, standing straight up against his stomach. 

Sliding his hands up along your sides, thumbs grazing over your nipples grabbing the soft flesh in his hands, bringing his lips down to them. Placing kisses all over, tongue wrapping around your nipple, your dainty gold necklace getting caught up in his mouth, teeth gently tugging on both of them. A line of spit breaking as he pulled away. Keening at the sensation, heavy weight resting on your stomach as you felt his cock grow against you. 

Sliding his length along your soaked cunt, the wetness making it glisten, the tip nudging your clit and teasingly tapping your hole with every thrust. His hand lifting up your thighs, pulling you closer to him, hearing your whines as you shamelessly rutted your hips into his. 

“Aww, baby…  you gonna cum just from that,?” Shaking your head fastly, words not coming out quick enough as your hands grabbed onto his.

 “Feeling empty?” As if he read your mind, not surprising you in the slightest. “You need daddy to take care of you in every way don't you, hm?” He said angling his cock down and shoving the tip into your cunt, barely fitting inside.

Your body convulsing at just the touch, pure need overtaking you as you shoved yourself the rest of the way down his cock. A cry of pain and pleasure leaving your mouth as you felt his hand slap against your thighs. 

“Though you said you were gonna be a good girl. I was gonna take my time with you, but I guess not anymore….Gonna make them tears fall pretty again.”

His hands gripping you tighter as he started thrusting into you, already sounding so lewd. You moans roaming around the room, wet slapping sounds getting him harder as your back arched. Blood rushing to your head, trying to find the orgasm that was so close. Shuddering as his pace got relentless, quickly sliding into and out of you, his tip barely being out before his balls slapped your ass. 

“D-da-”

“No, baby..” he groaned, trying to hold himself back. “Not until daddy says you can.”

Eyes watering as your muscles tightened up. Hands moving to his neck, sliding up to his hair. Knuckles going white as your grip didn't loosen, trying to catch your breath as he kept fucking the gasps out of you.

"Fuck-" You whimpered, trying to stay still as he rutted into you faster, fingernails matching your knuckles. "I- can’t daddy, i can't!" you choked out. Head falling back once again, vision going black.

 “d-daddy, please…” you whined, opening your eyes to catch his. Pretty little pout on your face as he moved his lips to yours. 

“What? You gonna cum, baby?” His hot breath whispered into your mouth..

“B-but you said…” You sobbed, tears making your mascara run all over the place. “Please yaku, need it... need to c-ah, cum…”

“Be a good girl, and cum for me baby.” Your hesitantness easily caught by him, the look of worry in your eyes, not fully understand if what you heard was right.

His hand grabbing your jaw, turning your head to make you look at him. “Cum”

Back arching at the words, the same feeling all over again.. His thrusts not stopping, hips still slamming into yours. The feeling of overstimulation making you shake and cry, rocking back and forth until he can feel the wet heat dripping between you two. 

Finally pulling back as your body was limp under his, flipping you over again now resting on his chest. Leaning against the bed frame as you curled up into him, still looking unpleased after he made you cum for the 3rd time.

“Why are you still pouting, hm?”

“I- im not.” You said trying to hide your face, lips puckering up more.

His gaze on your made you ease up, looking into his eyes, heat rising into your face as you opened your mouth. “You pulled out ...“

“Oh my god, baby.” He said pulling you towards him, pushing back slightly. “Stop, daddy.” You said, trying to assert yourself, looking like the prettiest mess he's ever seen in his life. “You know how I feel.”  

He looked down into your sad, pleading eyes feeling his lips pull up in  smirk, dick already growing hard again at the thought. Fuck you were so cute. Leaning down into your ear, voice hot and raspy as he muttered out.

“Okay, princess. I’ll give you what you want, but…. you have to do something for me first.”

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