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luvrxbunny · 7 months

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little spider

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Prompt: Innocence

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader knows nothing about sex or feelings of arousal, clothed clit-rubbing? cum in pants, small feelings of embarrassment (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 3.3k

A/N: sorry im late but im kinda proud of this one so i hope it was worth the wait! <3

Miguel didn’t think he’d end up in this position, nowhere in his wildest, most perverted fantasies did he think that this would actually be the outcome of him recruiting you but… here we are.

You were assigned by the higher-ups to learn from him, they thought you had potential, and honestly? Miguel hated you when he met you, he felt like they were punishing him for something, that assigning him this raw recruit was just a flaunt of power. You didn't even have a suit he had to make you one, a trial suit first, to make sure all your vitals were good, to track your movements and decide what suit material would be best- or if you would have a digital one like him.

During the weeks of his monitoring of your vitals, he began to grow a bit fond of you. You were an adorable recruit and eager to please, you were thoughtful and always gave your all, something he really appreciates. One other thing he noticed about you… your dopamine levels were elevated around him, along with your estradiol and testosterone. He ignores it when he’s writing his reports, he tells himself that he doesn’t report it because the higher-ups don't need to know, not because he knows they’d make you transfer… He should’ve requested it the first time he noticed it but the thought of you, his sweet, innocent spider, all turned on just from being around him? It ignited something in him.

He updated your suit, saying that the data he was receiving wasn't enough, he made you wear the suit as he replaced the chip and tried to hide the smile in his voice when your spine straightened under his touch. The new chip could give him real-time tracking of all your vitals, but he set his watch to alert him anytime certain hormones spiked… estradiol and testosterone. So he conducted a little experiment over the following weeks, he’d lean into you more when you speak, holding your eye contact, he even broke out the smirk he used to use on girls when he was younger, and it worked on you.

His watch vibrated every time he was near you, if he walked up to you, it started being an alert to when you were near, it’d go off before you’ve even approached him, he’d walk into a room and it’d go off before he even saw you. It started to have an effect on him, he started to feel a spark in his stomach every time it went off, every time he’d meet your eyes and you’d have that expression he’d grown to know so well. That weak, almost pleading- yet confused look in your eyes and the sheer panic before tearing them away from his. He started having to grip whatever was in his hands as tightly as he could to control himself when you’re breathing would stutter after he complimented you on your work.

He started getting hard reviewing your logs after spending the day with you, watching your heart rate stay elevated, spiking along with your hormones, he can see your breathing pattern, and how irregular it is compared to when you’re not with him. How high your body temperature was… the main areas of heat. On his more weak days, he’s gotten himself off to the diagram of you, with the burning red spot between your legs as the focus of his fantasies.

Now you’re here, avoiding his gaze as his watch vibrates like crazy. “Miguel?” He looks at you again, trying to keep his gaze neutral, hopefully, to make this a bit easier on you… and him. “Yes?”

His voice is smooth as cocoa butter and you can feel his gaze burning into you. He started this heat inside you, one you’d never encountered before. It starts when you see him in the morning and doesn’t stop until you struggle to sleep- or at least it used to. But recently it’s been non-stop, a constant distraction that you can’t pinpoint, it feels like it’s in your hips, stomach, chest, and thighs all at once. It feels like it’s in his breath when it fans over your face, it's in his eyes when they lock with yours, and somehow on his fingertips when they brush over any part of you. You’ve spent hours a night trying to figure out what you can do about it, you’ve thought about even asking Lyla but decided the risk of her telling Miguel was far too great.

This past week it’s just been building on it’s self, almost unbearable with Miguel’s new immersive training. He takes you away to some deserted, closed-off place and trains you with no distractions, giving you nothing to focus on other than him and forcing him to give all his attention to you. Miguel’s attention, his gaze is what causes the most… pain. That’s what it’s become, a dull, numb, thrumming at the base of your stomach, like an itch you can’t scratch that just becomes a nuisance. You couldn’t handle it anymore and if you asked Lyla she’d just tell Miguel- so why not just ask him directly?

So here you are, avoiding his gaze because you’ve spent the entire day with him, building enough fire inside you- you don’t need to add any more. “I think…” You take a breath and turn to him a bit before forcing the words out. “There’s something wrong with me.” He puts his clipboard down, his concern, and his thick, veiny hand that comes into view piles onto the heat over-taking your bloodstream. He takes his glasses off and sits back in his chair, reaching his leg out to pull a chair beside you closer to him. You dare a glance at him and try not to collapse at his gaze, at the way his hair moves over his face for a moment as he motions for you to sit in the provided chair.

You sigh and sit down, your legs pressed tightly together, your palms resting on your thighs and your eyes focused on the back of your hands. You stay silent, your mind racing, your body warming further at the feeling of his eyes on you. “What’s wrong, little spider?” You suppress a shiver at the nickname as goosebumps rise over your skin, it’s been a problem since he picked it. “I’m hot.” The words shoot out of your mouth before you can second-guess them again. Miguel chuckles a bit, sending embarrassment through your body, sits back in his chair, and crosses his arms, prompting you to go on.

“I can’t fix it. There’s… someone.” Miguel pretends he doesn’t notice the way your eyes flicker to him. “For some reason, something about them just- “ You pause for a moment, truly baffled by the way you feel, trying to find some way to explain it. “They just do something to me and it won’t stop.” Your words start to sound frantic, a bit panicked. Miguel leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees to examine your expression. “It’s like there's a low- like a low vibration- or a frequency? Like the ones that are so low you can barely hear but you can sorta feel them? It’s like that but- but deep inside me.”

Your eyes close and eyebrows furrow as you describe the feeling to him. He tries to keep his breathing even as he hardens uncontrollably under the suit. You don’t even realize what you’re confessing to him. “Like it’s in my bones, Miguel.” You add emphasis, your hands digging into the material of your suit before raising your head to meet his eyes, hoping he understands the state you’re in. He’s almost dizzy at the way his blood rushes to his cock. He holds your gaze and tries to convey a baffled, thoughtful expression as he tries to calm himself.

“That’s- That’s odd. Yeah, um.” He takes a few deep breaths before sitting back again, unable to stay in your space any longer. “Do- Can you tell me who’s causing it? Perhaps it’s a side effect of their powers?” Your spine straightens and you shake your head at him gently. You twist your fingers in the fabric of your suit and your feet play with each other on the lab floor. “H-have you heard of any powers like that?” You ask him, a hopeful look in your eyes.

Clever girl.

“No, I haven't.” He sits back, spreads his legs, and runs his hands down his thighs and back with a sigh. He holds back a smirk when his watch vibrates and he hears you take a sharp breath. “I- I don’t know what to do anymore. It- I can barely sleep.” You sound distraught, broken, and tired. He’d be the messed up one if he didn't help you… Right?

“I mean… I can try running some tests?” He offers, he keeps his tone light, trying to keep his dark desires off your radar. You perk up at his offer, already up and out of your seat, standing in front of him with a smile. He keeps his eyes on you, trying to ignore the way your scent is assaulting his nose, giving away how badly you need him. “You think we could?”

He nods and stands up, walking over to his lab table and clearing a few things. His head is already running wild with fantasies, ideas of what he could do to you, what he could teach you, how good he could make you feel. “Yeah, of course. C’mere, pequeña araña” You were already walking to him but your pace stutters and his watch vibrates when the nickname slips out. He truly didn’t mean to, he had gotten a bit too deep in his fantasies, and when your voice broke through he didn’t get fully pulled out. He’s never called you that in Spanish, not to your face at least, it’s fallen from his lips a few times before though, when he’s alone with his hand wrapped around his cock. But your reaction dissuades any fear that had shot through him before and he can’t help the smirk that makes its way on his face.

You’re standing silently beside him, wringing your hands together and he doesn’t think you even notice the way your thighs keep clenching together. “Get on the table.” His tone is teasing, a grin on his face as you jump and scramble onto the tabletop. You lay on your back and look over at Miguel, feeling that heat rage through you at the look on his face. It’s dark and- wanting. It’s confusing.

He takes a deep breath and your fingers try to dig into the metal table top as he walks to you. “Okay. I’m going to examine your body a bit, press into some muscles, some pressure points to see if maybe it’s a physical trigger. Is that okay with you?” Your chest is already rising and falling more rapidly at the thought, the promise of Miguel’s hands on you. You nod at him stiffly, trying to stay normal and calm as he holds your eye contact, nodding along with you. A small smile graces his face before he walks around and presses his palm into your hairline, pushing your head down to rest on the table as he stands north of you.

His hands press into your shoulders and your eyes shut tight. He can feel all your muscles tense and his watch vibrates, he sneaks a peak at his and sees the huge spike in almost all your vitals. His cock twitches in his suit at your obvious need but he brushes it aside, if he rushes into this he might scare you off and he doesn’t know what he’ll do if that happens. He may lose his mind. He moves his hands to your biceps, massaging them tightly as little whines slip into your breaths, only audible to his ears.

He walks back to the side of the tables and your eyes stay shut. He massages the softness of your sides and his breathing kicks up a bit once he gets to your hips. He takes his time with them, admiring the way you fit into his hands and how you subconsciously tilt them toward him. His thighs jump as his cock begins to leak, dripping precum down them. He takes a deep, shaky breath and forces himself to move on. He forced himself to move on, he was trying to take it slow, hopefully, you’d realize where you need him and ask for it. But your thighs spread open when he massages the outside and his hands dive for the inner before he can think it through.

You gasp, you sit up with your eyes wide and your hands gripping his wrists. You don’t do anything though, he expects you to pull his hands away but it feels more like you’re holding him there, stopping- or attempting to stop him from pulling away. So of course he doesn't. He stares into your eyes as you search his, trying to figure out if he realizes the way that made you feel, if your cover was blown, if he wants to stop but he looks expectant, like he’s waiting for something. So you loosen your grip. “That’s- I think that’s- ” You’re nodding at him lightly, hoping he understands what you’re trying to say because for some reason your brain has stopped working.

“Yeah?” Your heart stutters at his tone and the tilt of his head as he says it. Your thighs tense around his hand for a moment before you try to calm down, un-tense them but they can’t help the way they tremble with anticipation. You’re nodding at him more frantically and his eyelids flutter. “Okay.” He takes one hand out from between your thighs and rests it on your lower back as his other hand keeps massaging, slowly moving up your inner thigh and the sensations grow more intense the higher he gets.

Your eyes shut and your hands grip his wrists again, not pulling away, just holding him. Your eyes shut and your hips tilt into his hand, getting him so close to your pussy that he can feel the heat radiating off of her. You feel some sort of shame twinge in your belly, dampening the more intense feelings that Miguel was causing. What if this was wrong? What if you aren’t supposed to feel like this with him, without him knowing… Maybe you should stop.

Miguel moves further up and all those thoughts scatter from your head immediately. His watch vibrates again and a noise shoots out of your mouth- one you’ve never heard before as your body folds over and your head rests on his shoulder. You shut your eyes tight and take a slow, deep breath. “Sorry. Sorry, I-” He cuts you off. “It’s okay. That’s why I’m here, right?” He’s nodding at you, comforting and reassuring as his hand leaves your back to cradle your head. “You’re okay. I wanna help you, cariño.” Another noise leaves you at the nickname and his hand grips into your hair for a moment before sliding down to your neck and pulls your head away from his shoulder. He pushes your head against his for a moment, letting out a soft groan before letting go and pushing his fingers against your plush lips.

“How’s that, honey?” His hand settles back on your lower back as you whine and your hands move up his arm, gripping his biceps now and pulling yourself closer to him. “Miguel.” His eyes roll back at how you sound, desperate, breathless, and gone. Your hips are grinding into his fingers and they aren’t even on your clit yet. They’re pressing against your hole through your lips and your suit, he’s keeping his fingertips flat against you so he doesn’t slip inside.

He’s trying to ignore the mess he’s making in his pants, watching your tense face change into a relieved one, your eyebrows pulling inward as your lips part beautifully, releasing a shaky moan as he reangles his fingers to your clit. His hands are shaking as he tries to calm himself down, one of your hands slides up his arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake before gripping onto his shoulder and pulling him down, closer to your face. His eyes are fixed on your expression, taking everything in, every twitch and quiver, the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips before a whimper punches out of you.

You’re ruining him and you’re none the wiser. Your hand slides up to his neck and you push your forehead against his, like he did earlier. His eyes roll back before he forces them to you again, moving his fingers over you clit faster when your thighs begin to shake around his wrist. “I think-” Your voice comes out as a whimper and he groans into you. Your fingers grip into his hair and his cock cries against him. “Something… Miguel.”

The way you say his name fucks with him. It’s prettier than he ever could’ve imagined, he has to lean forward and press his throbbing cock against the edge of the table for relief. You’ve got him feeling like he could die, like he could implode if he doesn’t have you, if after this you realize what you need but get it somewhere else? It’ll be over for him. Your hand readjusts its grip in his hair, becoming more frantic as your spine straightens and your thighs close on his hands. “Miguel? I-” You cut yourself off with a moan and your head falls to his shoulder again, blocking your face from his view.

“No, no.” He brings his hand to the back of your neck again. “Let me see, amor.” He pulls you away from his shoulder and you moan at the nickname. Once again, it didn’t mean to slip out but you’ve got his head so cloudy he can’t help it. You’re moaning his name on repeat, like a warning and he’s pulsing at the thought, the promise of getting to see you cum, for him. His eyes can’t look away from you, he can’t see anything but your face, the way your brows furrow as you tense, and your nails dig into his arms, leaving reminders for later. He watches how you bite your lip before your jaw drops into an ‘O’ shape and his name falls from your lips one more time as a debauched cry.

He keeps his eyes open, watching you cum for him, how your lips form around his name again and again. He wants to collapse, fall to his knees with how much you’re turning him on but he needs to watch you. He forces himself to keep his eyes on you, ignoring the way they want to roll back at how he’s flooding his pants. His hips twitch against the edge of the table as he cums for you, with you. His mind zeros into the way he can feel your clit pulsing underneath his finger tips, how breathless you sound, trying to keep up with the noises he’s forcing from you. His stomach tenses painfully as his cock unloads more cum onto himself. You sound like an angel, crying out for him. He can’t help the way he dives for you, pulling you in to kiss him and swallowing every moan you’ll give him.

You whine into his mouth as his fingers slow down over your clit, your other hand meets the first in his hair and you keep his lips on yours. He keeps kissing you until you calm down and your breathing evens out. His hand comes from between your thighs and rubs your legs until you pull back from his lips. You have a bashful, embarrassed look on your face and it brings the largest smile that you’ve ever seen to his face. “Was that okay, pequeña araña?” You whine and pull him in for a hug, nodding into his shoulder as he chuckles and wraps his arms around you as you begin to giggle against him.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

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5sospenguinqueen · 13 days

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Lullabies | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader

Summary: Six months ago, Max walked out of your life after a conversation about your future. When you find out he' ended up in a's dating Kelly - who has a child - you work through your emotions in the best way you know how; revenge music.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Miscommunication. End of a relationship. Max doesn’t look great in this.

Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in 2021 but timelines have been completely altered. Olivia Rodrigo songs.

Main Masterlist

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Feb

YourUserName just posted

liked by georgerussell63, bestfriend and others

YourUserName 'and i fantasise about a time you're a little fucking sorry'

12,326 comments

User 1 mother is in the studio, ya’ll. i'm smelling a new album

User 2 did their breakup destroy my soul? yes. do i believe the revenge album will heal my soul? absolutely

User 3 the working titles are so unhinged and I’m here for it

→ User 4 hit you with a car is so real

→ User 5 love that she called him evil whilst also saying that she wants him to drive off a cliff. we respect it

francisca.cgomes i’m SO ready for this. sure you can’t give me a little preview?

→ YourUserName stop trying to get me fired

User 6 sis disappears from social media for 6 months only to come back serving cunt

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2 months before

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May

redbullracing just posted

liked by YourUserName, maxverstappen1 and others

redbullracing ANOTHER VICTORY FOR MAX VERSTAPPEN 🏆 #AustrianGP tagged: maxverstappen1, kellypiquet

7,445 comments

User 7 omg omg omg y/n liked. this is not a drill

User 8 was that last photo really necessary? she’s just a wag, she’s not actually part of red bull

User 9 not y/n liking 🥺 he broke her heart but she’s still supportive of his career

User 10 that should’ve been Y/N

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June

YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, victoriaverstappen and others

YourUserName 'you’re just a stranger i know everything about'

10,102 comments

User 11 not max liking despite not even following

victoriaverstappen so talented

liked by maxverstappen1

→ YourUserName thank you, vic x

→ User 12 not the former SILs interacting on main

alex_albon what's that sound? oh, it's just my tears

→ YourUserName doofus

→ lilymhe can confirm

User 12 and now my heart is breaking all over again. i miss the two of them so bad

kellypiquet just posted

liked by landonorris, redbullracing and others

kellypiquet summer break with my favourites 🤍 tagged: maxverstappen1

4,387 comments

User 13 so pretty

User 14 goals

User 15 anyone notice max hasn’t been commenting since y/n became active again on socials

→ User 16 delusional

→ User 17 clearly they're fine if she's posting vacay pics with him

→ User 18 except these are clearly old pics because max had stubble at the gp like two days ago so...

→ User 15 @ user16 plus he always used to comment and this time he's not even liked the post

→ User 19 not to add fuel to the fire but they were also spotted arguing after his podium

YourUserName posted a new story

Hi, guys. This part of the Baby Fever Angst series, which will include smaus for other drivers.

Daniel’s Version | Lando’s Version

I have part 2 planned if people want it but also happy to leave it like this if people don't want them to have redemption haha

Tag List (I tried to include all those who asked. Sorry if you only wanted to be tagged in Part 2 to Daniel and not the other drivers, it got a bit confusing haha)

@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery

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lovedazai · 3 months

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ENDING SCENE . . . dazai doesn’t know how to handle it when you get injured on a mission.

ft. dazai + f!reader, ada!reader, desc of blood & injuries, refs to dazai’s past, hurt/comfort (literally), angst w a happy ending, 2.0k w.c.

the only thing rarer than a night when dazai sleeps is a night when dazai dreams.

his mind taunts him, conjuring scenarios of you making a wrong move. his fingertips reach out to grab you, always just a little too far away, or he doesn’t notice the gleam of a sniper until it’s too late. his job history only makes the visions all the more real.

he’s been on the wrong end of a gun too many times to count, pulled the trigger himself even more, but seeing you with a barrel to your head is so irrevocably wrong, it always wakes him up with a racing heart unable to be slowed down by his usual tricks. he holds you as close as he can, until there’s no space left between your body and his; you’re real and you’re here, but it’s all just a reminder that sooner or later, you won’t be.

for the first time ever, dazai is in love, and that was an open invitation for the universe to rip you away from his grasp.

you never complain about the way he clings to you after. you let him lay against your chest and listen to the steady beat of your heart, waiting for his to fall into sync with it. your fingertips drag along his scalp and down his nape, grounding him back to earth with your touch. you whisper words so sweet he can taste them on his lips when he kisses you, and his heart races for an entirely different reason.

but then, it happens.

one, apparently deadly, miscalculation and now you’re bleeding out on his lap in the backseat of one of the agency’s cars. he wants so badly to think this is another one of his mind’s sick, twisted jokes, but the scent of your blood is all too potent to be anything but real.

today was supposed to be an easy day. your only assignment wasn’t even a full-fledged mission, just gathering information from witnesses about a recent burglary. the culprit had a concealed weapon, shooting you haphazardly in a panic before even dazai could realize what was happening. the bullet hit your abdomen, fraying your clothing, your blood soaking your shirt and leaking down your waist. you’re applying as much pressure as you possibly can with your waning strength, but red still oozes between the gaps of your fingers. he keeps a grip on your other wrist, rubbing his thumb over your weakening pulse.

“we’re almost there. only two more blocks away,” kunikida says, glancing at you through the rearview mirror from the driver’s seat, his brows pinched behind the lenses of his glasses.

that’ll be enough time; you’ll be okay. dazai lets the smallest of relieved smiles show on his face, but it fades as quickly as it came when he looks back down at you and sees your eyes are closed.

his voice is firm when he calls your name, cradling the side of your face and tapping his thumb against your cheek. “open your eyes.”

you do, barely. your eyelids are heavy, and only open just enough for your unfocused gaze to stay on him.

“there you are,” he strokes his thumb along the curve of your cheekbone. “we’re almost at the agency. just hold on a little longer for me.”

“‘samu,” he never wants to hear you say his name like that again. it sounds broken. “it hurts.”

“i know,” he whispers. his palm is clammy as it smoothes down your hair, pulling back the strands sticking to your forehead with sweat. “but you’re so brave. just keep those pretty eyes on me, and everything will be okay.”

the shrill sound of someone’s horn pierces your quiet conversation, muffled through the window as kunikida cuts in front of them. the swerve of the car makes dazai hold you closer to his chest in an attempt to keep your body still.

“‘m sorry,” your voice is so quiet, he almost misses it. “this is all my fault. i should’ve been paying more attention.”

he exhales hard through his nose, trying to control his anger, bubbling and burning beneath his skin. it doesn’t dissipate easily, and he swears if hadn’t promised to become a better man, he would’ve killed that man right there. the sight of you hunched over and bleeding had brought out a side of him that made even kunikida falter when he had tried to approach you, dazai guarding your injured body like an animal.

he tries not to jostle you as kunikida pulls the car in front of the agency’s building. he doesn’t wait for him to fully park before he’s lifting you and carrying you out, the seam of his coat bunched in your hand.

he takes the stairs two at a time, whispering apologies for every pained whine that falls from your lips. by the time he makes it to the fourth floor, your eyes are closed again.

he keeps you close, letting you melt against his chest as he twists the agency’s doorknob open, pressing it forward with his hip. he doesn’t stay long enough to acknowledge the way everyone stops and stares in shock or answer any of their questions about what happened as he hurries to the infirmary.

yosano is already in her office, sitting at her desk with her chin in her hand. her bored gaze lifts from the laptop screen in front of her and widens as she takes in the sight of your limp body in dazai’s arms.

your weak grip on him stays, even as he lays you on the first bed he sees. the crumpled fabric of his coat is tinged red where you cling to him, only tightening when yosano places a hand on your side.

“you should leave for this,” she says, halfway to pulling on a pair of latex gloves. he grounds his feet into the floor stubbornly, watching as she peels your shirt back, lifting away the saturated fabric to inspect your wound. “she’ll be fine. i’ll let you know as soon as i’m done, okay?”

his eyes trail away from your wound, back towards your face. you look just as peaceful as you do when he wakes up next to you every morning, except this time, there’s a hole in your stomach. he strokes your cheek softly, meeting your hazy gaze. he swears he can feel his heart break into two as he pries your hand off his jacket, your fingers far too weak to protest when he loosens them.

“i’ll be back soon,” he whispers, brushing his lips against your knuckles before he places your hand down onto the fitted sheet beneath you. he leaves before he can change his mind, feeling painfully alone when the door closes behind him.

he looks down at himself. your blood covers his hands, seeping into the cracks of his palms and staining the frayed edges of his bandages. it’s the same as that evening four years ago, kneeled on the ballroom floor over his best friend’s dying body. the scene is so sickeningly familiar, it makes him feel dizzy.

he thinks he hears someone call his name from down the hall, or maybe he’s going insane. he feels suffocated, and all he can think about is how badly he wants your blood off him. it’s sticky and warm and everywhere; he thinks if he doesn’t get it out of his sight, he’s going to be sick. he’s uncharacteristically uncoordinated, nearly tripping over his feet to try to get to the bathroom.

he runs the water scalding hot, scrubbing at his hands until they burn and the soap bubbles stain pink as they swirl down the drain. even the smallest of wounds tugged at his heart when it came to you, every scrap on your knee or bruise on your arm churning his stomach. he knew you’d be okay, he was the only one yosano’s ability didn’t work on, after all, but this was too close. he couldn’t lose you, not yet.

who else would ever want to take care of him the way you do, to scold him in that exasperated, loving way? your relationship was a glitch, something so tender and sweet not supposed to belong to someone like him. you were his one and only; there would never be anyone else like you again. he smiles, knowing how much you’d hate that he was thinking like this; he can already imagine the way your lips would feel against his as he’d kiss the frown off of your face, telling you not to worry your pretty little head about him. his fingers tremble as he dries his hands off, skin numb.

his legs are heavy as he walks back down the hallway, forcing his feet to move before stops in front of yosano’s office. he slides his hands in his coat pockets, staring absently at the ground. he can hear the faint ticking of a clock and the muffled voices of his co-workers through the wall behind him where he leans his head back. he inhales deeply, holds it, and exhales it out the way you taught him to, waiting for the invisible weight on his chest to dissipate.

“dazai,” he looks up at the sound of yosano’s voice, meeting her soft, sympathetic gaze as she peeks from behind the infirmary door. “she’s done.”

he’s never moved so fast in his life, ignoring yosano’s grumble when he accidentally knocks her with his shoulder as he passes through the doorway, practically running to get back to your side. he doesn’t miss the gracious way she closes the curtain surrounding your bed, enclosing the two of you in your own fluorescent-lit world.

he breathes your name, dropping to his knees at your bedside, grabbing your hand and intertwining his fingers with your own. your eyes are still heavy and sleepy after being treated, but that light he loves so much has returned, your pupils shimmering. he wants to bask in it, like a patch of sunlight beckoning a cat into its warmth.

“what were you thinking?” he tries to hide the quiver of his lips with a smile. “you’re not allowed to die without me, remember?”

“osamu,” you brush your fingers over his face before you pinch his cheek softly. “i know you were scared, but it’s okay. i’m okay. i’m still here.”

the same things you whisper between kisses during all those early mornings, holding him close in the comfort of your sheets.

“do you know you’re the only one who can see through me?” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours.

“yeah,” you smile. “but that’s why you love me.”

his lips are desperate when they met yours, soft and demanding as he pries into your mouth with his tongue. he pulls your hand closer, until it rests flat against his chest and you can feel his heart racing beneath your palm. having you this close, it finally feels like he can breathe again. the tip of your nose brushes against his when you pull back.

“lay with me,” he tries to chase your lips when you scoot back, making space for him next to you. “please? you know i always sleep better when i’m with you.”

the bed barely fits the both of you, but it hardly matters when you intertwine your body together with his own. you drape your leg over his, hugging his waist and curling into his side. you kiss his jaw softly before you rest your head against his chest.

he trails his fingers down the curve of your waist, smoothing his hand against your stomach, passing over where your skin is mended like new. you don’t wince in pain like in the car, only a content exhale falling from your lips as you snuggle closer to his chest. he buries his face against the crown of your head, gripping at the soft fabric of the hospital robe yosano put you in.

“we both deserve a nap after today, i think,” you mumble, lashes resting against your cheeks.

he already knows he won’t be able to sleep, maybe not for days, until he has no choice but to crash from exhaustion. he’ll spend his nights watching over you, too scared to close his eyes. he knew you’d be there to take care of him, for now; he’ll let you, greedily, for as long as the universe decides he’s allowed to be happy. besides, you were too pretty not to stare at.

p.s.! ⊹ ࣪ ˖ i wanted to rewrite my first fic for my tumblr anniversary back in december but then i didnt post it until now :( the original

BSD MASTERLIST

#💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖#bsd x reader #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai fluff #bsd fluff #dazai x you #bsd x you #bsd imagines #dazai imagines

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fangirlmermaid · 3 months

Text

Please Princess

Summary: You were kidnapped by Kronos goons, and just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, a familiar face proved you wrong

Pairing: Luke Castellan x daughterofPoseidon!reader

warning: Angst!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Also kind of long (Sorry)

(This scene was inspired by Euphoria)

You’ve lost count of how many days since you’ve been in this cell. You don’t remember how one of Kronos’s goons managed to sneak up on you, one minute you were walking to the Poseidon Cabin late at night and the next you were in this small ass cell that only had a crappy spring mattress.

You were expecting Kronos’s goons to rough you up, but they haven’t. They’ve only come in once a day to give you food and water which you end up throwing back in the goon's faces. They still never laid a finger on you, you were starting to believe that you were leverage for whatever the hell your brother Percy was doing.

The next day you just sit Chris cross applesauce on the ground and face the wall when you hear footsteps. “Heard you were being stubborn” A familiar voice announced, your eyes widened No not him Luke was the last person you wanted to see. You touched the scar that laid across your cheekbone, something you got from that night.

You went to find Luke and Percy because they were taking a while and you wanted to enjoy the fireworks with them. You find them pointing their swords at each other, Luke tried to explain how Percy lied about not being the lightning thief but of course, you didn’t believe him which led to you and Percy trying to take Luke down. Luke swung backbiter intending to strike at Percy but he dodged and ended up cutting you.

You were heartbroken, Luke was the love of your life! You didn’t care about glory or getting the god's attention, as long as Luke was with you. You believed Luke cared about you too, he was your biggest supporter! This made you wonder if he was only dating you so you would be more willing to join Kronos.

Luke placed the tray on the small meal table on the cell door, “Come on please eat something” Luke’s voice laced with concern. You tried to blink away the tears, gods he’s still acting like he cares about you. You still sat with your back facing the man you once loved, even if you knew what you wanted to say, your voice couldn’t be found.

“You need to eat…please princess” Luke begged, when he called you his old nickname for you the memories that you tried to shut out came rushing back, all the campfires, sneaking to the lake at night, movie night on your phone. You couldn’t hold the tears back anymore, “don’t call me that” your voice cracked, Luke was relieved to hear her voice oh how he missed it.

He wanted to hear your voice more “Princess please, you have to understand” Luke tried to explain, and for the first time you looked at him filled with rage “Understand?” you mumbled, and you stood up “Understand?!” you yelled storming towards the cell door, words couldn’t describe how enraged you were “you betrayed us!” you yelled shoving the food tray back at Luke. The traitor didn’t flinch, “Y/N” Luke’s voice was soft, it felt weird that he was saying your real name “The gods don’t care about us, they have ignored us for too long. We’re just pawns to their game” Luke explained his eyes that only known kindness now replaced with spite and hatred, you glared at the man you once loved “So that’s supposed to make it okay for you to try to kill my brother?! He’s a kid!” You yelled white-knuckling the cell bars “I’m sorry for that Y/N, I am, but I need to make sure Kronos will rise” Luke explained, you felt your heart ripping once again.

You took a few steps back and looked at this monster who looked like the man you used to love. Your eyes darkened, You never thought he would kill a kid “That dragon should’ve fucking killed you” your voice laced with venom, that was a punch in the gut for Luke “You don’t mean that” Luke whispered his eyes glossed, “I do mean it!” you muttered at Luke who remained silent “You fucking betrayed us, Luke! You betrayed Annabeth! You betrayed me! And it fucking hurts Luke!” You shouted tears running down your face. Luke mumbled “I love you” You couldn’t believe that he had the nerve to say that “No you don’t!” your voice cracked, Luke nodded his head “I love you” he mumbled once again, Gods will he stop saying that “No you don’t! Stop saying that! You don’t love me!” You shouted, clapping your hands with the last sentence.

Luke has never seen you this angry especially at him, you guys have arguments but they were never this bad. You leaned into the cell bars wanting to look Luke in the eyes “I have a lot of regrets in my life, but I have to say that meeting you has to be on the top of my fucking list” You explained in a malicious tone, Luke's eyebrows raised. A tear ran down Luke's cheek “You don’t mean that princess” Luke mumbled, you’d be lying if you didn’t feel a little bit satisfied by making him cry “I.mean.every.fucking.word” you spat at him. Luke grabbed your hand before you could walk away to catch your breath “Stop” you mumbled trying to pull away but Luke tightened his grip, he turned your hand over, exposing your palm. You studied Luke who looked at you with love before giving your palm a soft kiss something he used to do all the time, your eyes glossed at the sight. Luke gave it a final kiss before letting go, you cradled it into your chest “Y/N, none of this was supposed to betray you. I love you, I’m doing this for us” Luke explained calmly, you looked at Luke with murderous eyes “We could’ve left, Luke. We could’ve lived in a cottage in the middle of nowhere, just like we used to talk about” You reminded in a low tone your throat was dry and sore from the screaming, Luke shook his head “You know it’s not that simple, not for us” Luke explained, you knew it was true there would be monsters knocking on your door every five minutes but you wouldn’t have cared. You started to laugh “You know you're no different than them” You stated looking up at your ceiling, Luke raised an eyebrow “The gods” you continued, you were walking side to side in your cell “That’s not true” Luke grumbled, you laughed one again “but you are. You’re no better than Zeus, you’re no better than Ares…you’re no better than your father” you muttered, you smiled in satisfaction when Luked at you with rage in his eyes “I am nothing like them,” Luke told his voice laced with venom, you nodded your head not believing him “you’re a fucking vampire. Just like them” you muttered, Luke stood there in disbelief “You just go around sucking the fucking spirit out of everyone!” You yelled pressing your face into the cell bars and looking him dead in the eyes, Luke shook his head “You know that’s not true” he reminded, your murderous eyes staring him down “It is fucking true!” you yelled before walking away from the bars.

Then Luke had the nerve to say the three words again “Y/N, please! I love you!” he shouted, you wished he would stop lying “No you love being loved! You love being needed and being awed at like your some whimsical fucking creature!” You yelled wishing the bars weren’t here so you could leave, Luke sighed before looking at you “I love you! What will it take for you to believe me?!” Luke shouted in frustration, you wiped away your old tears “If you want me to believe you then stay away from me” You muttered, Luke shook his head making you sigh in frustration “Then let Kronos’s goons kill me because looking at you makes me physically fucking ill!” you spat at him before walking into a corner with your back facing him, telling him that you are done talking to him.

You stood there until you heard the main door slammed, you turned around and he was gone. You felt like an idiot for dating him, you should’ve seen it coming. You should’ve killed him that night, he was no longer the man you loved. It’s all your fault, out of anyone in camp you should’ve been the one to know that he was up to something.

You slid down against the wall, you brought your knees into your chest, and you were hysterical crying into your knees. Even though with everything that is happening, deep down you still loved him and you wished you didn’t.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fanfic #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson x reader

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planetaryupscaled · 4 days

Text

Tutoring

Male Reader x Park Sooyoung (Joy)

Tags: 12k, age-gap, cheat, creampie, cuckold, oral

The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.

Sooyoung had just writing her personal report for the day while sitting in an empty classroom. It was convenient way for her to track the progress of the various classes throughout the week.

She was almost done, just finishing with some constructive remarks about some of the lower-performing students. She glanced outside the classroom window as she placed the tip of her pen in her mouth to think of something to add. She noticed a young man in an oversized hoodie walking towards the school building, constantly looking down at his phone. It was Minho. What was he doing here after school ended?

Sooyoung finished her report, closed her notebook, and placed it in her bag. She walked out and noticed me standing in the hallway, just outside the school office door. I leaned against the wall as I put my phone back in my pocket.

“What are you doing here?” Sooyoung asked as she approached me.

She wore matching black yoga pants and a sport bra, her voluptuous figure provided plenty to look at. We were the only two people in this hallway, The bell had just rung earlier, and the rest of the staff had left for the day.

“What does it look like? I need tutoring,” I said, my smile betrayed my true intentions.

Sooyoung couldn’t help but flustered. She was always a confident woman, but my brazenness was something she didn’t know how to handle... especially after taking my load on her face and seeing each other’s private areas. But the deal was a deal. She’d jerk me off today, and it’d be a week before the next time.

“We can’t do anything here,” Sooyoung whispered, even though no one was around. “I know we made a deal, but we can’t do that here! I could get suspended!”

“So do I, relax I’ve only got twenty minutes until football practice. How about we sneak to this empty classroom and knock it out real quick? You’re tutoring me, so it’s not suspicious that we’re in a classroom,” I suggested, eager to get started.

Sooyoung shifted her feet, unsure. It’s true that nobody would have expected anything funny, but we’re still at school... And anyone can walk in at any time! No, it’s not going to happen. She’d let her emotions and libido get the best of her last time, she needed to be stronger now. And it was not worth jeopardizing the job she’d worked so hard for. Sooyoung swallowed dryly.

��I’m sorry, Minho,” she sighed, frowned regretfully.

“Well... okay, I guess we can take care of it in your car instead. A deal is a deal, and time is ticking. “I’ve been thinking about it all day,” I explained.

“Can’t it wait?!” she asked.

“No, I will not go to football practice like this.” I answered matter of factly.

“Minho, I don’t want to do it at all,”

“Should’ve said that to your husband. Come on. We made a deal, and I’m not taking no for an answer”

She turned away, feeling cornered.

She silently cursed her husband and his stupid fantasy and replied, “Okay, fine. But please. Twenty minutes, nothing more. And I’m even doing it in the car. No silly shenanigans. And remember no intercourse. Got it?”

“Yeah, of course. Lead the way, ma’am.” I replied, smiling.

Sooyoung couldn’t believe what she was doing. Leading her student to her car so she could give him a handjob. Fortunately, she had parked quite discreetly behind the corner. Anyone leaving the school would not notice them. But what if people found out what they were doing here? That would be disastrous.

Sooyoung told me to get in the car. I did so. She didn’t bother jumping in; instead, she stood in the doorway. Nobody would see us, and if they did, it would be from the opposite side of the car.

“Now lay back and relax,” she said with a smile.

I qucikly took off my gym shorts and underwear, Sooyoung grabbed my cock and began to stroke it, focusing on the head and my balls. She started with quick, easy jerks and gradually slowed down to a smooth, sensual movement. I groaned with delight as her silky married hands touched my throbbing member.

“Twenty minutes,” she reminded herself.

She glanced over at me who looked relaxed as my hips raised up and down against her hand. Sooyoung worked so smoothly, running her fingers along the tip and length of my cock. She couldn’t get over how big I was. When she imagined taking something so big into her body, she felt a hot shiver of nervous excitement run through her body. Knowing she’d chosen such a brazen boy to be intimate with, gave her goosebumps all over. But the rules were there for a reason. This allowed her to protect her morals and principles while also exploring them.

“Spit on it,” I muttered.

“Sorry, no,” she responded almost immediately.

“I said, spit on it, or at least kiss it or something. You’re chafing me,” I commanded. Sooyoung gulped, unused to being bossed around.

“It’s filthy,” Sooyoung said in a low voice, continuing the steady pumping. She was enjoying my cock in her hand, its size and mass. But to kiss it? That’s a no no.

“And me giving you head in your bedroom was clean? If you don’t...” I warned.

“Fine. I won’t kiss it but I guess I can... give some spit...” she sighed and stopped for a moment, then bent down over my cock.

She leaned in and let out a small dribble onto my throbbing member. The precum mixed with her saliva caused my cock to glisten and drip all over, with slicker sounds filling the small space between us. Sooyoung's rhythm became faster.

“I love your little hand. Mmmh... fuck that is nice..." I hissed through clenched teeth.

“Hahh,” Sooyoung snickered, staring down at my cock, admiring it. “So, is this better than any girl your age?”

"Much better… I would deepthroat you right now, if you like, You have the perfect face to fuck," I moaned desperately.

"Oh god, no, no mouthfucking," Sooyoung groaned somewhat annoying.

I smirked and began to whisper in a leering tone, staring at her while she focused on jerking me “Your body is nice, you know? I like those jeans you wore before; they make your butt stand out. A nice, curvy fat ass. You definitely have that.”

Sooyoung felt a hand firmly grab one of her ass cheeks. She nearly stumbled and leaned in, giving me enough leverage to grab it. Sooyoung swatted my hand away while continuing to stroking my cock. I laughed but moved my hand back to her firm ass.

“You jerk,” Sooyoung scoffed.

“Say you want my cock, slut” I groan and slap her ass.

“Minho, stop! Hand to yourself.” She said as tried to stop me playing with her fat ass.

She resumed her pumping on my cock as my hand returned to her ass cheeks once more, now she just shaking her head, rolling her eyes.

“You’re such a naughty teacher, look at you, jerking me off in your car.” I said.

Sooyoung gave me an angry look but yet she continued to pump my cock faster and harder. She knows she shouldn't have let me touch her body, but with her husband fantasy in her head, Sooyoung surrendered control to her subconscious.

I squeezed and spanked both her cheeks harder this time as if proving my point that she couldn’t, or shouldn’t resist my... helping hand.

“Guys at school wouldn’t never believe a teacher like you can be this... fucking… slutty. You just can't stop thinking about my cock, can you?” I taunted.

Sooyoung scoffed. “As if I hardly notice that thing,” she replied.

She leaned in as she continued the strokes and let another dribble land on it, she added a little twist and grind at my cock head. She pumped and pumped, while my hands never left her butt, I groped and squeezed it even harder, my fingers sinking into her round fat ass.

“Oh yeah, Sooyoung, just like that,” I said, almost whispering.

“Shush,” Sooyoung reprimanded me on instinct, hearing me mention her name made her feel even worse. She felt as if we were becoming intimate.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna-”

Sooyoung increased her speed, stroking harder, leaning closer for leverage. I looked down at her, my chest rising and falling with my quick breaths. My fingers caressed her ample globes, while my other and started rubbing at her covered cleavage. Sooyoung was completely captured by the pleasure she was giving me, unable to wrench herself away.

And then I finally blew, shooting giant ropes high up, some splashing against her clothed chest. My hand groping her ass, pushing her forward even further, making the stinky mess even more inescapable.

“Oh fuck Minho, come on! My clothes!” Sooyoung said, rolling her eyes with a defeated sigh, though never stopping her strokes.

I was panting and grunting as I unloaded my seed. The last few spurts leaked out and trickled down along her hand. A couple of drops hit her sleeve too. “That’s so much,” Sooyoung groaned annoyedly, looking at her now completely stained hands. Even her wedding ring glittered underneath the thick coating.

“Shouldn’t have worn something so... easy to stain. That’s on you,” I laughed. “Can’t dress like that with me around.”

“Yeah, whatever. You got what you came for. Now please leave,” Sooyoung said.

I chuckled but left her car without complaint. I sauntered back towards the school for my football practice.

—

Sooyoung let the week crawl by without any more thought of our illicit encounters. With all that went on in the classroom, the parents’ evening, and her after-school yoga and Pilates club, running with her favorite student and neighbor, Sooyoung found the time passed swiftly by. Before she knew it, the next week was near. We hadn’t really talked about when the next encounter would be.

I didn’t even contact her until Tuesday. I wrote ‘‘Are you home?’

When Sooyoung looked at her husband, he only smiled and nodded. It was enough permission. ‘‘Yes, come over.’

And just like that, I came strolling inside their house once more.

“Hi ma’am,” I greeted her, entering the kitchen.

Sooyoung leaned back against the table, smiling politely at me. She was wearing a white, fitted shirt and navy trousers, accentuating her gorgeous physique. The loose waves of her dark hair were draped casually over her shoulders, as a thin coat of lip gloss coated her lips.

“What’s up?” Sooyoung asked, trying to keep her composure, her smile on, and not to let me dominate her thoughts like last time. “So, you’ve come here for another tutoring session?” Sooyoung asked, playing coy.

I approached her at the dinner table, a bulge protruding from my shorts, totally ignoring Hyoseob who stood a bit further away in the open kitchen, just watching. Sooyoung shifted her glance at him, sending her husband a coy smile before focusing her attention back on me, whose hands were suddenly all over her butt again. Sooyoung giggled nervously as I grabbed a firm handful and groped her shamelessly. It was so different with Hyoseob right there. It was an assurance that me groping her was perfectly fine, and she had to admit she was glad it was.

“Wh--What are you doing!” Sooyoung asked, keeping her cool, acting outraged as my cock pressed against her thigh through my shorts.

“I didn’t get you off last time,” I said.

Sooyoung puckered her lips playfully, continuing to shake her head, making herself chuckle. But I am was done messing around and her playful manner only spurred me on.

I picked her up like she weighed nothing and placed her back on the dinner table. She was giggling wildly, allowing me to tug her pants and panties down her shapely, toned legs. I then spread her legs, wasting no time, I started eating her out... She yelped. It was wrong, filthy.

“ohh, so good…” she moaned.

Sooyoung groaned loudly, throwing her head back as my tongue deep into her warmth, nibbling at her clit before driving back up into her gushing pussy. She immediately felt the fiery sensations begin to ignite and grow. I held her by the hips, thrusting my face and tongue into her. Her chest heaved and bucked, a high-pitched gasp escaping her. Her shirt rode up from the friction.

The wickedness of what she was letting happen consumed her. My skill brought her to orgasm quickly. My fingers were splayed over her butt cheeks, nails digging into the skin. One hand squeezed each plump buttock and parted them wide to expose the tender flesh. With a savage growl, I tongued her open pussy, and dug deep, my teeth scratching the edges as I gnawed and ate her. Sooyoung yelped, moaned, and whined at the most horrible thing ever, a dirty secret of what should’ve been an affair and a taboo infraction of her marriage’s holy sanctity. The utter thrill of what she was letting go down, not for the first time, would normally have appalled her, but succumbing to Hyoseob’s powerful, yet wicked desires drove her to enjoy every second of it.

But now, with the pleasure mounting and spreading its tentacles, her mind had to focus on one thing: more. She grabbed the edge of the table, gripping it so hard that her knuckles turned white. The squishing and licking was the most awful sound to the ears. Her leg bounced, her heel beating hard against my back. Sooyoung’s mind was blank, only thinking of that voracious mouth feasting on her.

I licked slowly and wetly, tongue darting in and out of her opening, covering her in saliva, lathering her folds with my spit. At every withdrawal, Sooyoung’s hips rose off the table to meet me, wanting the pleasure only I could deliver.

The pleasure overcame her. She whimpered and then fell silent as a tidal wave of orgasms burst. Sooyoung gushed, trembling as wave upon wave washed over her, My mouth still hungrily at work. Finally, Sooyoung just fell quiet, moaning slightly and breathing raggedly, her pussy finally satiated and soaked. I looked up, staring directly at her.

“Feel better ma’am?” I grinned wolfishly. Sooyoung blinked. She could only mumble incomprehensibly in reply. She felt limp, helpless.

And yet she felt this strange emptiness. A need inside her to be filled and satisfied in a whole new way. The kind only a thick man, the biggest she had seen, could satisfy. It was weird being watched by her husband too. In a strange way, she was more concerned that Hyoseob saw her behave so crudely and obscenely. And in a different, yet much more tangible way, Hyoseob was seeing this horrendous, loathsome act and doing nothing. Maybe Hyoseob could see she was enjoying it so much that he’d let this wicked transgression slip without a hitch.

“Here, let me set up the camera,” Sooyoung said, still slightly out of breath. She was determined to finish me off so she could have Hyoseob rail her like the good husband he was. For once she wanted Hyoseob to take her rough, and remind her who she belonged to.

Glancing over at Hyoseob, who stood with his eyes and crotch bulging. he seemed to be more than ready for the same prospect. It was obvious he enjoyed watching his own wife cum on the behest of another man, even if it was due to a shithead like me. In fact, his proper wife becoming a sexual object, made it so much more incredible and surreal.

Sooyoung took her phone and propped it up on the dinner table and activated it to record. As she turned, she saw me had thrown my shorts aside, my erection standing proud. Sooyoung gave a sidelong glance at Hyoseob, who stood there transfixed and just watching the sin unfold. She felt guilty for making him endure such a situation; however, this was his own doing. It was his fantasy, and she’d be a good wife and indulge him. She loved him too much to deny him one of his darkest fetishes.

Sooyoung licked her hand, placing it around my stiff, rigid cock and started stroking slowly. I felt huge in her palm. She massaged and fondled it as best she could, her small fingers trying to encompass me completely, but she was still inexperienced, unused to handling an immense slab of cock like mine. She was almost in disbelief as it continued to pulsate and grow. Her delicate hands did their best to massage and soothe my throbbing cock.

“Get those tits out,” I demanded.

“Huh?” Sooyoung shook her head, refocusing from the massive slab of meat in her hands. She was mesmerized.

“Take it off, I said,” I reiterated. “I wanna see your tits.”

Sooyoung slowly nodded, biting her lower lip with a sly smirk. I hadn’t seen her naked breasts yet, but had seen plenty of her pussy... so really, it probably didn’t matter. Besides, Hyoseob’s gasp told her that her husband wanted it as well.

She pulled at the buttons at the front of her shirt, and took it off. Next, she slid down her black laced bra straps, pushing it down so her bare boobs were on display, right in front of my face, with her husband watching, recording and knowing it was all for him. Sooyoung pushed out her chest and stood proud in my face, saying, “You’re not getting your hands on these, they’re all Hyoseob’s.”

Taking a seat so I could be at eye level with her breasts. “But you can admire them as much as you want,” Sooyoung assured, standing topless before me.

She finally could display some of that confident pridefulness that lingered within her. She got down on her knees on the floor and resumed pumping my shaft again, her fist sliding along its full, imposing length, staring intently at my stiff cock. She could sense that I wanted to grope her breasts, but for now, I was a good boy. Maybe her breasts jiggling with each stroke made for a good enough sight.

Sooyoung kept working me, stroking me at a much slower tempo than I clearly desired. I wanted her to increase her pace, but she wouldn’t give me the satisfaction. With her spare hand, she started fondling my balls. I could handle a bit of squirming for sure.

“These are some big balls. Gonna shoot a big load for me? Wanna show me how much you can cum for your teacher?” Sooyoung said, even though she wasn’t really my teacher, but you say what you gotta say.

“Wanna take a closer look?” I said. eyeing Sooyoung’s gorgeous features with the most lustful gaze. She giggled, suspecting what I wanted. She wouldn’t do it, but why not indulge just a little bit? And so, she slowly bent forward with my cock slowly coming closer to her face.

Sooyoung peered over and caught sight of Hyoseob. I was aroused, staring at her with anticipation and eagerness. My erection, confined in my pants, was very obvious. She loved watching him get hotter. In that instant, Sooyoung felt the fantasy growing on her. She had been reluctant before, and perhaps she would be later again, but for now, her primal urge for satisfaction took over, and the delicious rush of taboo sensation pushed away her reserve. Her husband’s affirmation was all she needed to let go.

“You like that my cock in your face?” I asked, as I swiped her hair over her shoulders.

Her attention snapped back to me. “Sure, it’s the biggest one I’ve ever been this close to,” she admitted and giggled mischievously, knowing it would torture her dear husband.

“How about you give it a taste?” I suggested. She stroked it casually with one hand and leered, cupping my balls again with the other. It was right there, inches from her mouth. The temptation to do something so wicked, something so far from anything she’d sink herself to do, was unreal. How far would this go if she didn’t stop it?

I grabbed her jaw with one hand, pressing my fingers into her cheek so that her lips popped into a little pucker. “Take it,” I said.

Sooyoung pursed her lips again and obediently kissed my tip. Just a simple peck of a kiss, like with a friend.

“Alright,” she admitted, nodding, “That felt nice,” then leaned down and kissed it again.

She stuck out her tongue, swirling it around, and licked my swollen cocck. I groaned, closing my eyes as my breathing grew deeper. “Mmmmh, yummy,” she teased, staring straight into the camera, then turning to her husband winking at him, “He really does taste rather good.”

That was far from the case. It tasted vile, but she knew Hyoseob would love if she teased me.

Hyoseob, in return, shuddered in place, heart pounding, his cock swelling at the thought of seeing her act like such a slut. But for the wrong guy, a young stud taking her instead...

I looked down, Sooyoung looking right up at me as I pushed a thumb into her mouth. “Open,” I ordered, pushed her jaw open. I used a finger, pushing her tongue.

“How’s it feel?” Hyoseob asked, entranced. Sooyoung’s mind was racing. Licking my cock was disgusting, yet so wicked.

“I don’t know,” she moaned, her eyes filled with heat, her body burning. “Spongy.” She had never given a blowjob before, and though the idea seemed utterly unappetizing, the hunger within her to see my cum burst into her mouth drove her into an excitement. It was nasty, something she never wanted to do, but still the depravity of it turned her on. “Open wider,” I commanded as I poked my thumb in the side of her mouth, opening it widely so I could see down her throat.

“Owwwhhh, Can’t wait to feel my cock bump up down there.”

It wasn’t entirely unpleasant; Sooyoung was having difficulty remembering what she disliked about having a large object stuffed in her mouth.

“Play with my balls,” I commanded. “Stroke that cock.”

Sooyoung did as I said, having let go of my cock while I had toyed with her mouth. In the process, she was regaining some composure.

No way she’d let that filthy thing into her mouth! She couldn’t believe she had even let it so close, and kissed the nasty thing even! Yet, when my thick cock hit her palm and she wrapped her hand around the big meat, stroking me firmly, and heard my moan, and then felt the hot pulse of the blood against her flesh...

Sooyoung stroked me, watching my cock flex and grow in her hands. Her other hand gripped the base of my shaft while she gently tugged at my balls. The incredible size and pulsing intensity of my cock filled her entire world. She became hungry for my release, eager for me to be shooting all that cream. But to meet me halfway, not wanting to give me her mouth, she came to a compromise she knew would make both I and Hyoseob blow our minds... and loads.

She would let me cover her big tits with my cums. Sooyoung looked down, cock throbbing and veined in her grip, staring at my massive crown, watching me shift, my hips pumping in pleasure. “God, the things I’m letting you do to me...” Sooyoung muttered with her best scowl, yet the playful wink and her low chuckling said she was enjoying it more than her words indicated. She pressed the head of my cock between her ample bosoms and pressed them together with a devilish leer.

“Uughh, yeeaah,” I hissed.

Sooyoung continued to jerk me off with her squeezing tits. She increased the pace, shoving my bulbous, throbbing head repeatedly in her cleavage. Sooyoung stroked until the first splash of hot, gooey cum exploded into her neck, chin, and breasts. It felt strangely gratifying. Sooyoung let go of my sack and worked both her hands over my cock in rhythm with the spurts, milking more and more of my cum to gush down her neck and onto her tits. I finished, and her tits glistened, coated in cum. Sooyoung sat back, giving her audience a magnificent view of her sitting topless, completely covered in white goo from navel to chin. Sooyoung smiled at her dirty accomplishment, admiring the big cock she held in her hand, as the hot cum ran over her hand.

“Fuck, that was incredible, you’ve got an incredible pair,” I said.

She lowered her eyes to my half-mast organ, studying it with the fascination one had for something seen only once, not fully comprehending what she has seen, only recognizing the wonder of it. The foreskin covered the bulb, which seemed bigger in its protective covering, creating a feeling of mystery and anticipation, causing Sooyoung’s breath to quicken. She couldn’t tell where the feeling was going, but she needed her husband as soon as possible.

Sooyoung turned to Hyoseob. “Bedroom, now.” She turned to me, giving him an appreciative smile. “Thanks for the loads... now get the fuck out.”

I laughed and quickly put my clothes on, leaving the house with a cheeky two-finger salute, heading back to school or football practice or some shit.

Finally left alone with Hyoseob, Sooyoung wasted no time. She tackled her husband on the bed and attacked him with her hands and mouth. As Hyoseob enjoyed the pleasurable attack by his loving wife, his thoughts were focused solely on the desire to be inside her. he finally removed her bottoms and flipped her on her back, her dirtied-up tits strutting up towards him.

Barely saying anything except for “You are amazing”, He lined his member up to her now-ready hole, pushed it deep, and rammed away at her with long, forceful strokes. With each pump from her husband, droplets of my cum flew and dripped off Sooyoung’s body, drenching their sheets.

It took quite a few thrusts until Hyoseob ejaculated, but once he was done, Sooyoung let go of him, her whole body shaking and whispered: “God that felt amazing. You can do that more often, just... please don’t make me fuck any other guy,” she said and grabbed Hyoseob’s shirt collar, kissing her dear husband.

—

A month passed by without any incidents. Once a week, I came over just to eat her out, who in return let me fuck her tits, or she would jerk me off. She even let me fondle her breasts when I fucked her tits. I was still trying to prod her to take me in her mouth. She never relented, though came as close as one could get. She did sometimes kiss the tip a bit, which I appreciated. I’d reward her by creampying her cleavage or coating her face in warm goo. It always disgusted her, yet she relished me giving her facial after facial. She’d look at Hyoseob in the act, trying to keep that annoyed, unhappy facial expression as ropes of sperm shot her face as if to reassure him that she didn’t enjoy the disgusting act. But Hyoseob couldn’t help but notice how wet her pussy got from my facial, and how vigorously they’d make love after I left.

To make our tutoring more ‘‘tutor-like’, the three of us agreed that the following month we’d do some actual tutoring at the school. Either running track, Sooyoung helping with weight training, swimming, or whatever. Of course, if anything happened, we then knew to record it. Weirdly enough, I was happy to play along. Or maybe not that weird, considering the woman in question.

New month, new week. Sooyoung hadn’t seen me since Monday last week and we hadn’t scheduled anything until Friday, as the school pool wasn’t available until then. We also agreed to the ‘other business’ in the car after our lesson, like the first time.

However, mid-week, I texted her.

Sooyoung was just done putting running cones back into the equipment shed. Her heart beating quickly and her hands shaky, she looked at the message, which read: ‘‘I won’t wait for friday’.

“Oh god,” she murmured, thinking I was asking her to hook up right then and there at the school. Before Sooyoung could respond with anything, I sent another message: ‘‘send pics, please?’.

A sight of relief from her as she texted back ‘‘ok’ with an embarrassed smirk on her face. She already wore skin-tight clothing; this was no problem. I would love an eyeful of her black yoga pants stretched across her shapely ass, not to mention her small crop top emphasizing her curves, making sure her toned tummy was visible. She dropped a photo of her ass. She captioned: ‘‘Can’t wait until Friday. Gonna catch some swimmers 🍆💦.” She knew her emoji game was on point now.

Feeling extra daring, Sooyoung shot another picture of her ample cleavage, pressing her arms together to emphasize it. She felt so devious sending me these lewd pictures. Gezz! She hadn’t even asked Hyoseob if that was okay! She immediately felt bad so she sent both pictures, with captions to Hyoseob.

‘‘Just sent these to you-know-who’ she wrote. She knew she would be forgiven.

‘‘Voldemort?’ her husband replied.

‘‘Jerk’ she replied. Hyoseob joking around was a clear sign it was okay. ‘‘Did you like it though?

‘‘Hell yeah,’ Hyoseob replied. ‘‘Maybe have the camera ready at all times on Friday,’ he added.

A grin formed on Sooyoung’s face. ‘‘Sure thing, babe,’ she wrote back.

The bell rang, and it was time for her next class. Before heading inside, she texted me: ‘‘Hope you enjoy them.’

‘‘I’ll enjoy more when I see you naked. Friday right?’ I texted back.

‘‘On the conditions we agreed upon...’ Sooyoung wrote.

‘‘Of course, I’m not breaking any rules...’ I wrote, reassuring her, before adding, ‘‘unless you want me too’.

A third message came just after, ‘‘Just joking around’.

Sooyoung didn’t have time to dwell on it, but my words made her uneasy. She had to be extra careful on Friday.

‘‘Lol. Fridays fine,’ she quickly typed and walked to class.

The last thing she wanted was to encourage me to do something she’d would later regret. Especially because I knew a lot about the fantasy they were working with, and probably what buttons to press if presented.

With Friday not being far off, the day came fast and Sooyoung found herself swimming laps in her swimsuit as she waited for me to join her. We had the entire pool for ourselves as everyone had headed home for the weekend. She used a larger pool, creating no reason for us to get closer than necessary.

Sooyoung eventually stopped. I had finally come out of the locker room. She couldn’t help but stare as I paraded down the length of the pool towards her. Her eyes darted to my crotch, expecting a bulge. I wasn’t not been shy with my size, and she imagined now was no different. Sooyoung swam to the edge and hoisted herself out of the water.

“God, that suit looks too good on you,” I declared, my eyes practically bulging out of my head, completely captivated by Sooyoung's gorgeous body.

“So glad you noticed,” Sooyoung replied, shooting a little smile. “But today it’s all business. Pleasure can be found after class,” she smirked.

We started the lesson. And Sooyoung kept her promise to focus on learning. So what if I kept throwing a compliment here, a touch on her ass, or a rub on her shoulder? I heeded her instructions well enough to not go further than the border of inappropriate. Plus, I did my workout with clear conviction and it was impressive.

Sooyoung was impressed that I took any of her lessons at all, as I wasn’t exactly sluggish, if anyone asked, most would tell they preferred me as a fullback to their school team as I was a giant, and surprisingly nimble, blocking tackle, if the opposing team was unfortunate enough to have to carry the ball past me. But I struggled mostly to stay dedicated, which had led me to season after season on the bench. This was not a problem today.

“Looking at your tits certainly keeps me motivated,” I joked as Sooyoung complimented me on our way to the locker rooms.

“Flattery won’t get you in my pants,” she returned. She had thought nothing of my usual banter. We stood by the exit, apparently chatting a bit before going to our respective showers.

“Do you mind...”

“I mean, can I touch your tits for a bit?” I asked.

“What? You’ve touched them a lot, and will probably do it a lot more in the car. What’s up right now?” Sooyoung quizzed.

“I just wanna feel the swimsuit fabric... on those big tits,” I said, my gaze fixed on her chest. She sighed, trying to hide a blush.

“That’s still an invasion of personal space,” she replied. But the truth was she was extremely flattered. Now that she had got to know me a bit more, she knew when I was sincere. Even more now that she noticed my bulge.

“And perhaps because we’re here,” I continued “Public kinda. Or maybe it’s a student-teacher thing.”

Sooyoung looked at me, contemplating for a moment.

“Sure, why not. It’s Friday anyway,” she said, putting her hands on her waist, pushing her tits forward for me.

I eagerly seized the opportunity, and with a quick glance to either side of the room, I moved both my paws to each of her breasts. Sooyoung looked down at my hands squeezing her breasts and she felt something primal flare in her stomach as I massaged her in front of a glass wall leading towards what was usually a very public area. The way I gleefully fondled them felt too naughty, and she couldn't deny that it felt good how I knead her tits so vigorously.

“Come on, Minho, you’ve touched my breasts way more intimately before,” she chuckled, biting her lip and looking around the pool area, even as she knew we were completely alone. The lewdness of our actions triggered feelings she didn't recognize, prompting her to take the initiative.

I took this as a hint for me to move her straps aside. It was happening before she realized it, and soon her breasts were exposed to the big empty hall, her nipples erect from both my fondling and the thick air emanating from the warm pool itself. She hissed.

I'd seen and groped her tits countless times before, and now she was standing at the school pool entrance, allowing me to pull and play with her nipples. A place she worked; a place she’d get fired from if anyone ever learned what we’re doing.

“Stop. That’s enough,” Sooyoung murmured, trying to not raise her voice so as not to draw any attention, even as we were alone. I pulled the straps of her suit but then I stopped and walked toward the men's changing room, smiling at her. Sooyoung eyed my butt the whole way, making sure I took the correct turn.

Her mind buzzed and her body throbbed from the little tease she had delivered. Not much could make her turn a cheek, especially from a horny adolescent like myself, but being topless on the threshold of her workplace took a toll, even if she was the only person there.

Sooyoung quickly rushed inside the women’s changing room, ready to turn a shower on and rinse her shame off. However, she was feeling less and less ashamed the more she was with me. I was kind of a dick, but I had become a sort of friend who helped them live out a vile and potentially dangerous fantasy.

Sooyoung leaned against the tiled shower wall. There were six showers, three on each wall. She had wanted her own private shower, as showering with her students felt inappropriate, but now she was alone. Just as well, she found her mind swimming in lust and not paying attention to washing the soap away as her thoughts drifted to images of her lying on her back as I forced my cock into her body.

As much as she didn’t want to cheat on Hyoseob, it would feel so good to finally take such a big cock inside of her... She shoved those thoughts aside. Rules were there to make sure nothing like that happened. Sex was something she loved to experience with her most precious partner, Hyoseob. No way would she compromise something so special, so sacred, just for the sake of satisfaction, or pleasure.

“Eh, the men’s showers are fucked...” A voice said from the door.

Sooyoung snapped her head over her shoulder seeing me standing there awkwardly rubbing my neck, still in my swimming trunks and with a towel in my hands. She turned her head towards me, raising an eyebrow as I stood in silence.

“I think it’s that new plumber, whatever his name is,” I continued.

“So, uhm, can I, join you? I’d shower at home, but-”

My eyes trailed her body. “I thought why not join my hot teacher in here?”

“Sure thing,” she nodded. We had already seen most of each other before... though perhaps not all in one go, and certainly not glistening in warm water.

I took the spot beside her and set the temperature of the water, making it a little more steamy and warmer, though Sooyoung would probably prefer ice cold right then. I’d seen her in various states of nakedness a couple of times by now. It’s not like having me under the same showering spot, still clad in swim trunks, would really bother her all that much. Still, she remained with her back towards me. It created some distance, kind of, even if I got an eyeful of her firm ass cheeks.

“So, what did you think of today? Did you like the lessons?” Sooyoung asked, wanting to fill the silence with at least something else than her labored breath, as well as curious for an honest answer for her as my tutor.

I took a while to respond, taking all the time to let my eyes roam her well-shaped butt. Sooyoung felt that intense gaze piercing right through her and giving her a shiver she could not conceal. She peeked over her shoulder and saw that I had discarded my swimming trunks and was in the process of soaping my chest.

“Mmm, your ass is gorgeous,” I remarked as I rubbed my chest, “this was the first class I’d paid attention to since sophomore year...”

I stared openly at her as she smiled weakly.

“So, the lesson was a success?” Sooyoung said, turning ahead to ignore my lustful comments.

“Very,” I said.

She grabbed some soap and started to lather up her breasts. Sooyoung pressed her arms to the sides of her bosom.. She was already done soaping and all that, but she needed an excuse to linger. She had to pass me to get out of here, and she didn’t want to entice me further. We could do our business in the car after anyway.

“You stay over there, mister,” Sooyoung teased, shooting another glance over her shoulder, her eyes immediately locking to my semi-hard cock.

She turned her face away again, taking a deep breath where she stood. She cursed herself for giving in to my charms and allowing me to break through her mental fortitude, clouding her thoughts with lascivious thoughts about the forbidden. She shouldn’t enjoy such terrible desires. She had felt numerous times what I could do to her, my magical hands teasing her and making her beg. “No, no begging,” she thought, no matter how badly she wanted to. It would all become real if she did.

Our illicit activities out in the hall, me groping her breasts out in the open like that while showing my earnest opinion on her body, didn’t help her predicament of having me shower a mere five feet away from her. Having my hands on her back there, nearly pushing the boundaries of the rules made her uneasy. Sooyoung stepped back, backing straight into the middle of the shower.

A pained groan came out of her, as my palm landed square on her behind, cupping her big left ass cheek and holding her tight, not letting her move from the spot.

“Minho!” she shrieked.

She turned to face me, both my hands were on her soapy waist, not giving her enough room to wriggle. It was impossible to mistake the growing intensity of my eyes. Being slightly taller than her, my monstrous cock was now bumping right against her outer thigh.

“Um, Minho, wha- what’s-?” she stammered, feeling the immense hardness smack against the side of her hip.

I quickly grabbed her hand, forcing her to grab a hold of my cock. I grunted, my body trembling from pleasure. Her fingers clamped tight around it almost automatically, stroking me up and down. My erection was unlike any other she had known. It was far thicker and longer than what Hyoseob possessed.

“I was thinking we could do it in here,” I said.

“My phone-” Sooyoung started, but I shush her.

“I have once a month unrecorded,” I reminded her. They were the rules that were in place when she first agreed to do all this me.

I turned slightly aside so I could move my right hand fully onto her naked ass, my left onto her breasts, causing her to gasp jaggedly. She was so sensitive in her breasts, which I had come to learn. And now she was fully naked in front of me for the first time, my hands on her fully naked body for the first time too.

“Sooyoung?” I breathed her name, making her shiver.

She slowly nodded. No words, but permission to continue.

Sooyoung gasped as she enjoy my groped on her ass and breasts, her most vulnerable part on display and being violated. She wasn’t resisting either. A soft groan slipped through her lips as I started applying delicate pressure against her soft features. Her mind was still holding her back, as my hands roamed over her slippery, soapy-covered ass cheeks. It felt great, she was surprised to admit; not just the obvious physical sensation, but also the freedom and sheer shamelessness in knowing she had my full focus, completely uninterested in the video-recording aspect of this, just wanting to have a more casual session. Sooyoung relished how dirty she was being right here at work, where her phone should have been recording, but wasn’t.

It was strange how a few quick, strong of rubs into her fleshy posterior caused an instant reaction in her mind. I skillfully continued to caress and apply pressure to her curvy body. When I decided I was done kneading and molding the supple flesh beneath my palms, my hands crawled and glided toward her waist. I briefly groped at the jut of her hips before, slowly, my fingers moved to her lower back. At first, Sooyoung thought I’d grope and slap her rear, as many a horny teen would have done but instead, I pushed her to turn around.

“We can’t,” Sooyoung said, suspicious of my intentions, despite the rules.

“I’m just gonna eat you out,” I replied, pressing a little harder.

Sooyoung smiled and allowed herself to be spun around and bent towards the shower wall. Her ample behind stuck out towards me, on display for my eyes, and my touch. Sooyoung braced her hands on the tile wall, opening her legs for me, and pushed her ass out, hoping I would taste her soon, hoping I would not keep her waiting any further.

I did not immediately descend. Instead, my hands wrapped around her chest, stroking at her sides before cupping both her tits, squeezing and kneading her voluminous chest. I am quick learner, my movements dexterous and adaptive to what she enjoyed.

Sooyoung felt my big firm cock lodge against the outside of her butt cheek, pulsing and throbbing in anticipation. She wanted me to get down there as soon as possible so she could get some release. She felt as if she was losing control soon if she didn’t. But my hands on her body, kneading and demanding her skin to yield to my fingers, felt so good too. Finally, she could feel me release my grip and start to descend behind her.

Sooyoung groaned as my hot breath glided past the arch of her ass, gasping with anticipation. My lips glided past her cheeks, sliding through to her netherlips. She leaned forward and widened her legs even further, giving me all the space I could want, all the access I could desire. My tongue was at home, licking the outer of her pussy lips and sometimes dipping in between, testing the entrance, poking at her wet folds.

Sooyoung realized I was growing bolder as my lips slowly climbed the distance to the crack of her ass. With my nose bumping along, I rubbed the top of her mound, just below her cute little butt hole. My hands moved downward from her busty torso to her thick thighs and squeezed them tightly. I began eating her sweet wetness even more zealously than I had been before and Sooyoung soon felt a tingle start to grow in her tummy and travel outward. The sensation started to swell and was on the brink of erupting all through her, with the lewdness of it all, the forbidden nature of it all adding to the tension inside.

I moaned against her pussy lips. It must feel so incredibly wrong being intimate with a teen, being a teacher to have something like that happen with a student, her being married and still having some punk lavish her folds. Her ass cheeks quivered as my tongue found a way inside her dripping pussy.

She was pushing back on my face, trying to get my tongue in deeper, feeling herself about to explode. Sooyoung began bucking her hips against my tongue as the familiar coiling built up in her pussy, signaling that her release was not far away. She pushed her head back and wailed in ecstasy, grinding and humping wildly, forgetting about where we are. Our moans were muffled by the steamy showers, yet our echoed against the walls of the otherwise silent hall. She was sure if anyone did return to the school, they would hear what we were doing.

Her chest was heaving, the wet lapping sounds between her legs almost drowning out any inhibition, as my tongue wormed its way inside.

“Minho…” Sooyoung grunted between strokes, “I need... oh fuck, I need it.”

“Need what?” I paused.

She could imagine a cheeky grin on my face. Sooyoung shook her head as best as she could and groaned. “God... please.”

“I’ll continue if you tell me. What do you need?”

Sooyoung’s senses were overflowing. My tongue lolling across her sensitive cunt felt absolutely amazing, and I had a habit of bringing her to the edge, only to slow down, pause, and force her to beg, which always ended with her exploding harder than anything she could remember before.

“Tell me, Sooyoung,” I commanded.

“Uhhgh, fuck. Keep going,” Sooyoung mumbled, groaning. “Please let me cum, I need it!” she begged.

And with those words, I dug back into her, this time, the force of my tongue driving in more aggressively, my entire mouth locked over her pussy and my hands digging into her big cheeks. Her body instantly tensed. Her orgasm was building until the very moment she could not contain it. Sooyoung felt my tongue batter away at the folds of her wet center, and soon it was over for her, I had her fully submitting, having all the control over her as she succumbed to the overwhelming urge for sexual satisfaction.

“Oh Godd!”

Her mouth dropped open. She sucked in air and froze as the explosive feelings rushed through her. Every nerve ending ignited, and her pussy trembled. It exploded into convulsing tremors.

“Cumming! Oh, I, I’m- Fuck, yes, make me cum!” she yielded.

She growled, clenching and shaking through her climax as I lapped hungrily and feverishly, feasting on her squirting honey pot. Her vision went white. She continued riding me, groaning my name repeatedly, until she felt her head begin to spin from hyperventilation. It was a wonderful sensation as I kept attacking her hole throughout the final aftershocks, slowing down my assault but making sure I tasted her, slowly massaging her softening wet cunt as I continued to make out with it. Sooyoung never really got used to the feel of my tongue rolling, the tip touching her sensitive parts, but it was over too fast.

Her knees became weak and she wanted to fall to the shower ground, yet I held her in position, not done with her yet. Before her pussy was able to recover, Sooyoung gasped when I slid my tongue to her ass. She groaned, twisting her ass-cheeks to one side, trying to get away.

“Please, not that, it’s so filthy,” she groaned, as I press my tongue against her puckered hole, only teasing the orifice for a second. “Fuck,” she hissed, my tongue felt so weird against her asshole... weird in good way. It was repulsive, yet something she found herself to strangely enjoy.

“Nnh... Ah,” she groaned and allowed herself to experience this new form of intimacy. For someone so crude and ill-behaved, I was certainly gentle in my approach as my hands supported her and guided her body to give me access to all her sweet spots. I slowly shifted and held her against the wet wall. “Minho!” she exclaimed and breathed deeply before pushing out my name in a heated whisper.

I gave her clit a long teasing stroke with my thumb, making her shiver and gasp before I once again buried my face in her crotch. She pressed herself hard against the wall, arched her back as she tried to somehow make the sensations more intense. My thumb never left her clit, massaging the small spot ever so slightly, and my tongue worked ever so gently inside her, alternating her ass and her sweet labia, savoring the sweet nectar of my hot teacher’s pussy. I was slow at first but soon I began moving my tongue faster, finding myself lost in the excitement of being so intimate with her. My hands gripped her, pulled and fondled. I was groping her all over with wild abandon, as the steam fogged the walls. Sooyoung kept thrusting against my tongue as my thick organ roamed around her puffy lips.

I stood behind her and pressed my cock between the cleft of her ass-cheeks.

“My turn,” I muttered.

My voice was desperate and full of longing as I started to voraciously thrust my cock between her ass. My hand clenched around Sooyoung’s waist. With the water and soap, her ass became perfectly smooth, just right to drive my raging cock into her. Sooyoung could feel my big balls as I smack against her mound, my large size is an indication of what would soon follow.

“Unhh... Fuck!” She panted and I growled in delight, clearly excited about finally having my teacher ass wrapped around my cock.

“The rules,” she muttered, as her whole body jolted while I fucked her buns, “the ah- rules. Stop. Please. I-”

“It’s... okay,” I groaned. “It’s just like with your tits,” I breathed.

Sooyoung closed her eyes, breathing through her mouth, as I worked faster and harder. In her clouded brain, it sort of made sense.

I just having a titty fuck. But with her ass cheeks.

“Ohh, his feels fucking amazing,” I grunted.

“So good…” Sooyoung murmured softly, enjoying the feeling of my cock between her ass cheeks.

It was so dirty, yet well within our rules. She was jerking me off, just with her ass cheeks instead of her hands or breasts. And from behind, no less, a position she’d never subject herself to with Hyoseob. A forbidden aspect. And feeling the contours and details of my cock rub along her felt agonizingly good too. Like having something she desired just outside of reach, but getting a taste.

“Arch your back, tilt your ass up,” I demanded.

She did without question. The angle was immediately better, as she heard my grunts grow louder and deeper. Sooyoung could not help her own moans escaping through her lips as her tits were pushed against the wet tile wall, completely at the mercy. She could hear my powerful breaths against her ear as I ravaged her big breasts with my hands and her firm buttocks with my cock. Her breath was shallow and her heartbeat was erratic as her mind reeled and raced.

I was pounding her ass at an awkward angle, and suddenly on a long outstroke, my cock disappeared down between her thighs instead of between her cheeks. My cock slid across her wet opening and out under her.

“Arghh” I groaned, but instead of pulling back, I essentially started slowly fucking her thighs instead, my cock-head ramming across Sooyoung’s wet pussy lips before jutting out in front with every thrust.

“No, that’s-!” she yelped. “That’s too close,” she protested, but she couldn’t deny she got more out of it this way. My cock felt too unreal against her wetness. Instead of uttering further protest, Sooyoung lowered her head and closed her eyes, feeling my cock glide across her sensitive parts. As long as I didn’t break any rules, this couldn’t be so bad, could it? Just me jacking off between her thighs.

“Fuck,” I muttered, pounding Sooyoung’s thighs as she let me use her big tits with my hands as I slowly pushed back and forth across her slit. “This view is amazing,” I admired, staring down where my cock disappeared below her, seeing her ass ripple with each thrust.

“I- you gotta be careful, baby,” Sooyoung breathed, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the pressure I put on her front entrance, brushing her pussy lips with every thrust. “Too close, baby, watch- oh my goodness, you’re big,” she warned.

Her hips were shaking violently with need as I continued humping between her thick thighs and squeezing her hefty chest. She felt my length hit her lower lips again and shuddered with pleasure.

“Your- cock feels- too good,” she whimpered as I thrusted back and forth. Would she be able to have an orgasm like this? She shivered with anticipation.

It was not long before I reached over with my left hand to support myself on the wall, while my right hand moved down below to guide my cock on her opening. At the touch of my swollen head directly between her pussy lips, Sooyoung gasped.

“Minho,” she pleaded.

However, calling my name wouldn’t stop me. Not that she truly wanted to. Perhaps her hesitation was genuine and she did not want me to stop. I pushed upwards as the head of my cock sank inside her. She wanted to cry out and plead, ask me to pull out, not wanting to break her marriage vows, yet the feeling was simply too amazing. Instead of words of protest, she groaned in agony, as the rest of my dick eased further into her tight entrance, my cock splitting her wet swollen pussy lips apart. Sooyoung shook her head violently, my throbbing length almost becoming all-consuming.

“Minho, please,” she whispered.

Sooyoung wasn’t sure what she pleaded for. She kept saying my name, pleading and moaning as I continued sliding my cock inside her, burrowing further with each thrust. Her soft folds were splitting in half from the sheer girth, her hole being forced to take my dick in. It was more intense than she had ever been with Hyoseob, and I was just a bit over halfway in.

Her fingers tightened on the wall and a lustful gasp escaped her parted lips.

“Careful... you’re so big,” Sooyoung said, sealing her fate.

“I’ll treat you right, make you feel good. No one has to know.” I moaned in her ear.

I started pumping harder, my member moving with purpose, plowing past more and more my length between her lips.

“That’s- so fucking big, Minho,” Sooyoung moaned, getting lost in the passion, slowly pushing her hips against my cock, my thick head burrowing into her soft canal. “Ffffuuck, fuck me. Fuck meee.”

“Shh, it’s alright,” I whispered reassuringly as I slammed my meat home, eventually fully buried myself into my sexy, busty teacher. Her moist tunnel opened up, inviting me deeper into her. I groaned, loving how her warmth spread against my length and encircled my hard, throbbing cock.

Sooyoung screamed from pure bliss as her first orgasm ripped through her, her cries bouncing against the shower wall. Her breath escaped in sharp little gasps, and her stomach convulsed each time her entire frame jolted from my thrusts.

“Yes! Yes! Fucking... Ma-make me cum!” she cried out, clawing at the slick tiled wall as I took advantage and quickly established a rapid, pulsating rhythm. My grunts and pants were filled with need, desperation for relief.

“Yes, that’s- ah... that’s the spot... that’s it,” Sooyoung panted, bracing herself against the wall, my pace now picking up with ease as her wet walls lubricated the large intruder. She leaned against the tile with her head bent and her hands on the wall, gasping as she accepted all of me with every pump, hitting all her right spots.

“Come on, you fucking slut,” I groaned, my hands holding her waist as I was dominating Sooyoung’s insides with my cock. I fucked her relentlessly.

The noise of flesh hitting together was unbearable, the echo of Sooyoung’s big, firm, juicy ass taking my powerful poundings. I pummeled her for minutes, not stopping, nor I slower, and all of my grunting, panting, and hissing were accompanied by wet, sloppy sounds from between her legs.

Sooyoung was dizzy with bliss, barely standing, her head spinning from the intensity of it all. The way I expertly manipulated my erection inside her was criminal, but right then she didn’t care, she was only focused on my veiny member pistoning her soft cunt, making her quiver.

“You love my cock in your tight, dripping, little married pussy, don’t you, slut?” I grunted in her ear.

“Fuckk, that’s- soo good, ungghh my god, you’re so big…” Sooyoung groaned, shuddering in absolute satisfaction. She reached back with a free hand to my rear. Her nails dug into my ass-cheeks as I did not cease hammering her from behind, grunting my agreement to her words.

I pulled out of her, leaving an empty feeling within her. Luckily it was short-lived as I spun her around, then without much fanfare I pushed her against the shower wall, hiked her legs around my waist, and lined up my cock head against her soaking hole once more.

She hissed as I pressed my meat against her, the mushroom head slowly pushing at the entrance of her cunt. Sooyoung squinted her eyes closed and clamped her teeth hard into her lips as I parted her delicate pussy lips with my cock.

I kept a slow and torturous pace as I finally made it inside her. Her beautiful, slutty mouth opened but nothing came out of her lips but soft, choppy breaths as my cock speared deep, the big mushroom head finally battering her womb. I felt extra big in this position, as she was folded between the wall and me with nowhere to go but deep, deeper. She cried out as a small orgasm rippled through her, shaking and arching her spine.

“You love it deep like this, don’t you? Huh, slut? You love my cock stretching you,” I growled in her ear.

“Ohh god- Yes!” Sooyoung answered in a loud whisper. “It feels sooo good.”

I pounded her mercilessly, my cock sawing her in half, her tits pressing firmly against my chest.

“Fuckk… you’re so huge- Minho,” Sooyoung gasped. Her legs wrapped tighter around my waist, squeezing against my waist. “How can you be- this big? this- nghh- fuck!”

“Bigger than- ah- your husband?” I asked.

I thrusts harder and faster, feeling a desperate need to release.

“Ungh! Fuck, yes! Yes!” She admitted.

“Reaching deeper than you’re used to?!”

“Fuck- yes! ahh” Sooyoung squealed.

“Beg for it, slut.” I breathed huskily as I wrapped my arms around her back and pressed her body even closer, pushing myself balls deep.

“F-fuck me, Minho! Ruin me. Make me- cum,” she begged, clutching my back as she clung for dear life.

Just as the word escaped her lips, my lips were on hers. Sooyoung’s mind froze in a confused whirl. Her eyes went wide, yet she found herself kissing me back. Her nails dug into my back, dragging across, and I flinched at the sensation, but my lips did not part from hers.

I groaned as I pumped her harder, my hands tightly squeezing at her supple ass.

“So good- you’re so good at this. Oh god, I’ve never done it like this...” she kept rambling with her soft voice, panting, but still seemingly holding out, her tight walls compressing around my thick, cock. She looked so adorable, trying so hard. I wanted nothing more than to see her resolve break and have her surrender completely.

“Any regrets?” I taunted.

“Nnhgh,” she grunted, “no, baby. You feel so f-fucking gooo-hd-d-ah, Minho.”

“You gonna let me fuck you again after today?” I asked.

“Why do- nghh- why do you talk so dirty to me, Minho? Why?”

“Your husband hasn’t fucked you like this, has he?” I teased.

“Fuck. No. Not like- mnghh,” Sooyoung cried.

“Because he’s not enough to keep this needy pussy satisfied?”

“Just- fuck- just make- anhh- make me cum, baby,” Sooyoung whimpered.

“You fucking hot little slut, take it. You’re a dirty, cheating whore, aren’t you? Your pussy has been craving my cock since day one hah"

I let her down, spinning her towards the wall again. I needed to cum, but couldn’t hold her up anymore. She willingly pressed her tits and face into the wall and arched her back as she offered herself once more.

Sooyoung lifted a leg, opening herself for me as my hands came back to her ass, gripping at her waist, digging my fingers into her flesh. A second later, my cock head was knocking at her soft, velvet chamber again.

“Baby- baby… oh god,” she was whimpering as her pussy dripped wetness, my hands playing with her big fat ass, fondling and kneading it. The sweet music of her lust echoed through the hall, her hands scraping on the wall, my breath ragged and strained as I slammed myself into her.

“Say it!” I demanded. “You’ll let me fuck you again after today!?”

I was on the verge myself, slamming her hard, my cock spearing her well-fucked pussy mercilessly. Her whimpers had turned into pitiful wails of sexual depravity, unable to form words in her mouth.

“Baby… honey,” she whispered with a wince of painful bliss, “God- I’m gonna- Ahh, oh my- please-”

“Fuckkk, cum on my cock.” I growl.

My relentless thrusts hammered her sensitive canal. I plunged deeper as she leaned against the wall, thrusting back at me. I groaned, feeling my own orgasm roar to the forefront, preparing itself. I gave her one last thrust.

Sooyoung suddenly went silent, I felt my cock swell inside her before my tip detonated, unleashing a torrent of sperm directly into her pussy. It was a monstrous eruption, spraying deep, hard jets of thick, milky, white cum, filling up Sooyoung, bathing her insides.

She went limp, yet the intense and abrupt waves of pleasure overwhelmed her, making her clench hard around my girth, milking me and contracting as she came right along with me in vigorous passion.

I kept myself deep inside her, depositing more and more cum inside her womb. I clutched her breasts for leverage and groaned as the last parts of my cum spilled into her married pussy. I took deep breaths as my load began to leak past her stretched and plugged entrance.

“Fuu- uck,” she exclaimed as a spurt of cum streamed out from her.

Her body shook against mine and she lifted her leg, groaning, feeling herself full of cum. I slowly began to pull my dick out, until it finally exited her well fucked pussy with a soft ‘‘poppp’.

More seed streamed out, my sperm pouring down her legs, white fluids gathering below her on the tiled ground. She fell to her knees, spent, not able to remain standing any longer, having her legs give way.

“I can’t- believe we just did that,” Sooyoung said in despair.

She swore she wouldn’t, yet, she succumbed to her dark desires. She had broken the most important rule, and happily so... but now it didn’t feel happy at all. And she had let me have her in such a slutty way too, having let go of the intimacy of sex for the sake of my cock filling her up. It was shameless, animalistic- and utterly mind-blowing. Sooyoung had not even felt such mind-numbing, toe-curling pleasure like that before, ever. And with me not having recorded this time... she knew it was just for her. Sooyoung shuddered as my cum dribbled down her shaking legs.

I helped her off the floor. The hot spray washed over her head, slicking her hair. Her thighs and buttocks were stained with my semen, making her flinch and curse my name.

“Why’d you break the rules?” she said in a shaky voice. I held my hands up defensively.

“Hey, you wanted it just as much as I do” I retorted.

To Sooyoung’s horror, she knew I was right. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you... that we...”

“Should do it again,” I concluded. Sooyoung’s eyes flashed up to meet mine. “Hey, listen. I’m pretty sure Hyoseob wouldn’t mind.”

“But I mind!” Sooyoung replied, somewhat angrily. “It doesn’t matter whether he’d approve or not, I’m a married woman, and proudly so. You shouldn’t have gotten inside me.”

“Okay, okay,” I relented.

“Sex is supposed to be special and... intimate, not just some- fuck,” she went on. “I hate that you could make me throw all that away. Damn you, Minho!”

“Come on, Sooyoung,” I responded. “You’re talking about making love. All we did was have some fun. Two consenting adults having their carnal needs satisfied.”

“You say it as if it were so easy,” she spat.

“It is easy,” I said. “C’mon, you love Hyoseob, but you can’t deny you enjoyed getting fucked like that. Nothing’s wrong with enjoying yourself a bit. Hyoseob will go nuts once you tell him about this!”

“Tell him? I can’t possibly tell him about this!” Sooyoung argued.

“Of course you can,” I said. I just wanted it to continue, and for that to happen, it was in my best interest to help get Sooyoung over her reservations. “You have to. Just tell him how horny you were, that I caught you masturbating in the shower... and that it was too good to resist.”

“I... I guess you’re right,” Sooyoung sighed. It made sense. The rules were there to keep them honest, so honesty was the only course of action.

“No problem,” I said reassuringly. “Need any help cleaning off na’am? I think you need it,” I teased.

“God, why do you keep doing that?” Sooyoung scolded, giving my chest a playful slap.

But she did have to admit she felt better after our little talk. Who knew I would be a consoling type?

“Would you want me to help?” I asked. “…or is that against the rules?”

—

I ended up eating her out once more before we finished the shower, and soon we found ourselves in her car.

“How you feeling?” I asked earnestly.

“I’m better now,” Sooyoung replied, about to turn the engine on.

“Glad I could help, If you’re ever in the mood again. you know where to find me.” I said.

Sooyoung nodded. She was slightly nervous that if she had my company more, her resolve would crack and break again. She just couldn’t imagine sleeping with a guy like me again, her student. It was a mistake... yet she was still hesitating to start the engine. And I noticed.

“Unless you want it right now?” I suggested, leaning close. I was good, so good, it made her tingle everywhere.

“Minho, not here. Please,” Sooyoung plead.

I pulled up my hand towards her thighs, caressing it. “Lean your seat back, I’ll take care of you.”

Her resolve crumbled, once again, as she quietly allowed me to rub her thighs, my hand soon reaching under the hem. Soon enough I had my fingers inside her, pumping her loose with my finger. Sooyoung’s legs quivered, the nervous excitement building inside her. We could be caught at any moment, but it was impossible to resist. my practiced touches. Especially now that she knew how good it could be. Sooyoung even lifted her ass up to let me slide her tight yoga pants down and off her legs.

Soon she heard the familiar rustle of a zipper, followed by a noticeable change in pressure in the confined space. My hardening member popped free from its tight prison. I was hard, She reached down and pulled a lever allowing her to push her seat and arch the back down, giving me space enough to climb on top of her and line her pussy up with my swollen head. She spread her legs invitingly, I pushed inside, kissing her mouth to muffle the noise.

“No one will know,” I reassured her as my length eased further and further in. She trembled in delight when the entirety was within. She loved every inch of it, as my cock caressed her cervix with each slow thrust. “Fuck- Sooyoung,” I muttered.

She laid back against the cool leather as I thrust with such vigor. Sooyoung hated her body betraying her. She couldn’t think straight when my dick was filling her, hitting all of her spots. She could feel the pressure build rapidly inside her as I grunted and leaned forward, panting. My breath brushed her face as she gripped my rear in desperation and urged me as to fucking her harder, to satisfy her need.

We were right in the school’s parking lot, Sooyoung spreading and wrapping her legs, letting me defile her marriage pussy yet again... and she was so close to climax already.

“God- I really hope Hyoseob is okay with this,” Sooyoung whimpered. “Cause I’m dying for more of this.”

“Trust me,” I panted, “I- Oh, fuck- He’ll be fine. He’s probably at home, touching himself, thinking about this.”

‘‘That shouldn’t be making me so damn wet,’ Sooyoung thought to herself, yet the image of Hyoseob jacking off over what had happened with me, of him agreeing that his wife student’s should defile and breed his beautiful wife, only pushed her closer and closer to her climax.

“Oh god,” Sooyoung moaned.

“And if he isn’t okay with this, are you gonna let me fuck you again?” I asked.

“Unghh,” she growled, nodding.

“Say it,” I taunted, as my cock plowed her cunt deeper.

“Mnghh,” Sooyoung let out in reply, not even trying to stifle her lustful moans anymore. “Yes- god, yess. Fuck me whenever you want! Just keep- Fuckk!”

Her hands are buried in my hair, pulling me closer as her moans were getting louder. Her orgasm that had been brewing exploded, rushing through her. Sooyoung bit her lip, trying to contain herself as I picked up my pace, trying to catch my own release. My thrusting and pounding didn’t stop, however, my cock was beginning to throb, and her pussy walls quivered.

“Cum- inside me,” she pleaded, “I need it. Please-”

She tried to press her hips harder against me, feeling my length expanding, thickening, pulsing wildly within her as my thrusting became almost desperate.

“Please- Minho, inside. I want you to- knock me up” Sooyoung pleaded.

She felt a hot gush inside her, the warmth spreading around her pussy. Sooyoung shuddered with anticipation. I had pumped another massive load deep within her, my length completely hilting, delivering the ropes deep inside. The pleasure rippled across her body, her womb quivering around my large appendage.

When everything is done.

“Knock you up?” I asked.

“Just dirty talk... I’m on the pill, but it’s something Hyoseob likes me saying,” Sooyoung said, surrendering yet another aspect. “Just like when- you ask me to continue even if Hyoseob says no. Heat of the moment.” She added.

Sooyoung said that, though deep in her heart she wondered how much of the latter was true. Was it just a talk? Would she be able to resist Minho if Hyoseob said no? Sooyoung was not sure she wanted to find out. She’d had the best sex of her life with Minho and she knew she would have been crushed if Hyoseob said no to sharing her.

It was wrong, but she knew she wanted more. She just hoped she’d be strong enough if Hyoseob decided to pull the plug. She had a week to find out before seeing Minho again.

#joy smut #park sooyoung smut #red velvet smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 5 months

Text

I wanna dance with somebody

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 22

Prompt: Sports

Rated: T

CW: some vague mentions of Eddie’s boner

Tags: No UD AU; Meet cute; Good neighbor Eddie Munson; Dancer Steve Harrington

Notes: @thefreakandthehair, @sourw0lfs, @devondespresso - SPORTS! GO, SPORTS!!!

Wanna see dancer!Steve stretch (and Eddie have a horny meltdown)? Check out the artwork done by @house-of-the-moving-image!!

It’s still half dark and freezing outside as Eddie parks the van in front of the dancing school.

“Shit, we’re running late,” Max curses and bends down to straighten her neon-colored leg warmers for the twentieth time. “Just because you couldn’t find your stupid car keys.”

“That all you gotta say?” Eddie huffs, but all it gets him is that bewildered brow quirk she always does when he’s being dumb. “How about Sorry for waking you at ass o’clock, Eddie? Thank you for driving me, Eddie? You’re the best neighbor in the world, Eddie?”

She scoffs at him. “Ew, are you always that desperate for validation? Pathetic.”

Eddie gawks after her as she opens the passenger door and gets out to retrieve her duffel from the backseat. That little gremlin! He should’ve closed the door in her face, left her standing out in the snow.

Except, it all rang a little too close to home. The way she huddled on his porch, arms wrapped around her too-thin jacket, face set in a disappointed scowl. The way she barked at him to drive her to dance class because her mom had been home late and wouldn’t wake up. He knows she’s been taking odd jobs around the trailer park to pay for the classes, knows it's the one thing during the week she looks forward to. Also knows that her mom is too out of it to care half of the time. Knows how that feels.

There’s no way he could’ve denied her.

The problem is, she’s perfectly aware of that.

“You coming?”

She’s eyeing him expectantly through the open back door of the van. Eddie waves her off, fumbles for his cigarettes in his pocket. Realizes he forgot them. Shit.

“‘s okay, I’ll just wait out here in the car.”

She rolls her eyes so hard her entire head sways with the motion. “Don’t be a moron, they have heating and a lounge inside. C’mon.”

The inside of the dancing school is basically just one long hall with a floor-to-ceiling mirror front at one end. There’s a counter in one corner and two mismatched sofas with a pile of old magazines opposite that. Max makes a dash for the gaggle of girls doing warm-ups on the dance floor, even though there’s no instructor in sight yet.

“Oh hey, can I help you?”

Eddie blinks. A guy has just materialized behind the counter - though the truth probably is that he was crouched out of sight to retrieve the boombox in his hands. He puts it on the countertop, cocks his head at Eddie, which makes a few strands of floofy chestnut hair fall in front of his wireframe glasses, and oh fuck, he’s cute!

“Adult classes don’t start until noon, but-”

Eddie barks a laugh and saunters closer.

“Yeah, no. I’m just here to drop off little Red.”

He jerks his head at the dance floor. Cutie follows the movement and his face breaks into a smile so full of genuine delight, Eddie wants to cuddle him. Or maybe bite him. Maybe both.

“Oh, Max,” says Cutie. “You her brother?”

Eddie snorts. “Nah, just a neighbor. Her mom was … indisposed.”

“Huh,” Cutie says. Quirks an eyebrow. Somehow manages to put an entire unspoken verdict into that little noise and gesture. “She’s real talented, y’know?”

Eddie shuffles in his place, unsure about what to do with that information. “Um, yeah?”

Cutie nods, eyes darting over at Max, who’s dropping into a painful-looking split in front of the mirror, and shit, when did she learn that?

“Yeah. I think she’s got potential. Plus, she’s really come out of her shell these past few weeks. So thanks for driving her.”

“Oh, erm …” Eddie makes, pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to hide his incoming flush. “No problem, dude, not like I had-”

“Steve!” Max hollers, and they flinch apart. Eddie didn’t even notice how they’ve both drifted into each other’s space, Cutie’s elbows bracketed on the counter and himself just swaying ever-so-slightly closer. “You done flirting, or what? We should’ve started three minutes ago!”

Cutie - who’s name is Steve, apparently - takes off his glasses and winks at Eddie. Fucking winks at him. It goes ridiculously well with the pretty pink blush that’s blooming high in his cheekbones.

“Sorry,” he mutters, raising his arms over his head and bending at the hip, does a silly little stretch. “Duty calls.”

Then, he smoothes his hair out of his forehead and steps around the counter, pressing the Play button on the boombox.

“Okay, ladies, here we go! One song for warm-up, just move around the room however you like, feel the music.”

Some atrocious, boppy pop number starts to blare through the room, but Eddie hardly processes it. He’s too preoccupied by the sight in front of him.

Legs.

And an ass.

Legs and an ass in fucking tights. They hug Steve’s form like a second skin, bringing out every muscle, and Christ, there’s a lot to bring out! Guy looks like one of these ancient Greek marble statues - if marble statues wore fucking Tears for Fears shirts and could balance on their tippy toes and do leaps and spins in perfect sync with the music, all with flawless core tension and a seemingly effortless smile.

Eddie thinks he may need to step out. Take a breather. Throw himself crotch-first into the nearest snowdrift, maybe.

Instead, he takes two shaky steps backwards and collapses on top of the nearest sofa, grabs a random magazine from the pile and fans it open in his lap to hide his very unfortunate predicament.

It’s Good Housekeeping.

Steve spins by, catches his eye and winks again.

Eddie turns back to the magazine. Cool, fine, he always wanted to know about the ten best apple pie recipes to delight your loved ones with.

He does hope this magazine is sturdy, or he might just tear through it.

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #steddieholidaydrabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

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shibaraki · 1 month

Text

OUT OF MY HEAD, HALF BURSTING ┊ MIDORIYA IZUKU

synopsis: japan’s sweetheart and saviour is in a quirk induced coma. you’re the only one that can bring him back.

tags: GN reader, post canon au, pro hero deku, quirk accidents, fluff + angst, hospitalisation, mutual pining, intimacy, technically doctor/patient but they know each other, friends to lovers, reader has quirk (‘dream walker’), memory/dream sharing, referenced depression, getting together, kissing, cheesy idc idc

wc: 5.2K

In your years wading through patients' memories, you’ve found that people have the most uncanny ability to resign themselves to their fate. You’ve wondered time and time again whether it’s instinctive to ruin things—if humans couldn’t help but stumble and make a mess of the things around them.

You recall that thought process now with a weary sigh, as your eyes skim over the patient's name for the tenth time in as many seconds. Midoriya Izuku.

“Well? Are you gonna do it or not?”

You’ve been staring at the medical file for long enough that an uncomfortable silence has dawned upon your office. Two weeks prior, a villain named Catatonic used her quirk to force Deku into a comatose state, that which he has yet to wake from. Even after the liberal use of quirk inhibitors, countless visits from Eraserhead and the administration of various stimulants, Deku would not stir. Realistically he should’ve roused from the coma naturally as soon as the quirk was cancelled. But he hadn’t, and his doctors can only assume it’s because he can’t, or refuses to.

Thus the case in your lap. A last resort.

“I’ll do it,” you intoned, thumb flicking at the corner of the manila folder. There’s already a deep crease there. The file itself is the heaviest you’ve ever had in your hands. Dense in a way that makes you ache. You and Deku are good friends—the kind of friendship that forms mainly because you frequent the same places. That place in particular being the hospital, except you were there to work, and he was often wandering the hallways listlessly to burn off the dregs of whatever sedatives he’d taken or visiting with patients.

Awkward small talk eventually blossomed into real, fulfilling conversations, and you started to like him, a lot more than you should. You kept the memory of his small, sincere smile close to your chest; nothing like that dazzling grin he wore on duty, it was softer, something private, and you relished being on the receiving end of it.

He was skilled at talking around his injuries. Sometimes if you felt especially bone-weary after a shift you’d be so relieved to see him that you forgot to ask. That sits with you. Deku is a hero. A good one, the best one. He’s brilliant at what he does—keeping people safe, protecting them from harm. In the entirety of his career, it appears he rarely, if ever, turned that care and consideration onto himself. You’re not a licensed therapist, and barely a doctor. Still you contemplate his medical history with a cold sense of regret.

“You realise there’s a large possibility I’ll end up seeing a lot of confidential stuff while I’m in there”.

“Don’t care. S’not like you can tell anyone”.

“I don’t think you understand how invasive this will be. I’ll see personal things. Private things, Bakugo. He won’t be happy”.

“Don’t care. If he doesn’t like it then maybe he should fuckin’ wake up”.

“This might not work, you know,” you finish tiredly.

Bakugo arches his brow at that. Despite the shadows under his eyes there’s no defeated slope to his shoulders, only a fierce scowl. “Either you can do it or you can’t,” he says, voice unsteady as if reeling between rationality and outright aggression. “You’re supposed to be the best at what you do”.

“I am the best at what I do, Bakugo. I can promise you I’ll find him”.

“Then what’s the damn problem?”

The file feels heavier. It feels like a foregone conclusion. You swallow, your throat dry. You don’t bother attempting a smile. You’ve lost the will to maintain your professional veneer.

“I can’t promise he’ll want to come back”.

Dream walker.

At twelve years old you thought it made your quirk sound whimsical, and gentle, and not at all the invasive thing that it actually is. After all, your reach didn’t end only at dreams. You were able to project your consciousness into another’s mind if it pleased you, parse through every memory, ambition, fantasy, trauma and fear, and manipulate them however you liked. Back when your control was non-existent you would drift into people’s heads whenever you slept like some wayward soul and saw far too much far too young.

The need to understand yourself and your quirk is what drove you to studying medicine. Neuropsychology, mainly. You carved meditative techniques into the very recesses of your own brain and learned to keep your consciousness tightly moored but had no real ambition beyond that. After the war and the complete upheaval and reform of hero society, it was difficult to find your place.

Until Okumura Yukiko.

At the small age of eight, Yukiko fell under the effects of a severe nightmare quirk, and despite the quirk being canceled she couldn’t wake up naturally. You had carefully walked through the delicate threads that made up her young mindscape—quirk-infested by formless shadows with knife-sharp teeth and worse, eerie figures that wore the appearance of her father—you found her trembling inside her mothers figmental wardrobe, took her hand, and guided her out.

When you came to she was curled up in the swaddle of your arms, trembling still, but awake. Her timid incantations ring true in your ears even now. Those tiny little thank you, thank you, thank you’s inspired the person you are today. Not quite a doctor, or a therapist. A specialist for special cases.

Something in your gut told you that traipsing into Midoriya Izuku’s mind wouldn’t be simple. That it would permanently change things. This isn’t some stranger, or a patient you’d never cross paths with again. He’s important to you in a way others aren’t.

Your hand hovers over his face, fingertips brushing his temple. You push your fingers into his thick green hair, rich in colour and soft, no knots to catch on your knuckles. His friends have been visiting in shifts, keeping him comfortable and presentable.

Bakugo had managed to keep the Hero Commission at bay for the time being, but if you came back without Midoriya tomorrow there would be far more than one scowling man looming in your office. Though the possibility left a bad taste in your mouth you can admit, in the privacy of your thoughts, that you’ve contemplated prolonging his recovery for the sake of allowing Midoriya rest. There must be something keeping him under, his genuine reluctance or worse; you’ve been reassured repeatedly of All for One’s death and the absence of the previous quirk holders but it’s best to exercise vigilance.

Midoriya does not react, not even a twitch of his nose, but there’s a flutter beneath his eyelids and a sleepy-sweet warmth to him that has you smiling, fond. Tucking your feet around the legs of your chair, you scoot it forward and bend closer, elbows resting on the edge of the hospital bed. “I’m not sure you can hear me in there. Maybe not. But I hope you won’t hate me for this,” you tell him.

Midoriya’s face remains serene as ever—more so than you can remember. It makes you wonder how much pain and discomfort he’s been hiding throughout your interactions. The tension has been sapped from his expression, lashes fanning over his cheeks. You’re close enough to count each individual freckle. Lightly, your thumb taps the space between his brows. “There are a lot of people out here that love you. They’re waiting for you to wake up, so I’ll have to have a look around your head a bit. Okay?”

Nothing. Heartbeat monitor pulsing a healthy rhythm, broad chest rising and falling, Midoriya continues to sleep. You sigh and cast a final glance around the private hospital room. The clock reads 18:22. Outside the window you see a single cloud, wispy as a dandelion, slowly disintegrate across the dusky sky. You make a cradle with your arm, head resting in the crook while you take Midoriya’s hand and try to relax. Anticipation turns in your gut. Years of experience aside, you’ve never really acclimated to the feeling of that first step into another’s subconscious.

Pressure gathers inside your skull as your quirk activates. You inhale a quick, wounded breath at the sensation. Your eyes roll back, vision swallowed by abrupt darkness, and you jerk against the distinct sensation of falling as your stomach roils. You’re overwhelmed by a cacophony of images and sounds—a determination that happiness would come, then moored to the burden of expectation, any optimism muffled under exhaustion and pain, replaced swiftly by a sense of discontent, grief and regret that swelled over time.

And then everything stops.

Your arms feel empty. Your chest feels hungry. You ache with it, the disquieting loneliness. Fog leaks into the memory, surroundings concealed beneath a thick mist. Behind you is a small pond. There’s a notebook soaking in the water. The koi are mouthing curiously at the weathered corners, faint black tendrils of ink curling off the charred pages. Scrawled boldly across the top is ‘Hero Analysis for The Future: No. 13’. Your strikingly young reflection ripples as you plunge your hand in and fish it out, holding it at arm's length as you shake the excess away.

Sufficiently less soaked, you draw the notebook to your front and carefully turn the cover to read the first page. You can feel the slight indentations on the back where a pen has been pressed hard enough to score the words through the page. Written inside, smudged but undeniable, is Midoriya Izuku’s name.

“Uh—excuse me…” a shaky, pitched voice comes from behind you, belonging to a very familiar pair of teary eyes. Midoriya is not just small, he’s scrawny. His hair is longer, unable to decide on which direction it wants to grow, and his middle school uniform is slightly ill-fitting, as though his mother bought it a size bigger for longevity. He ducks into the higher collar to hide his reddened face when you look at him.

The urge to bundle him up and hide him from the world is fierce. The situation is odd, but you offer a smile and his blush worsens. “Is this yours?” you ask, holding up the notebook. You try not to grimace at your own childlike voice. Midoriya nods frantically. His hands flex around the straps of his backpack. Smaller than the broad palms you’re familiar with, neither scarred nor crooked, trembling where they motion to clasp around the notebook. Your fingers brush and he attempts to swallow the yelp that bubbles in his throat.

“Thank you,” he stammers, pressing the notebook flat to his own chest. Midoriya swallows. His gaze never strays from you, growing brighter with each passing second as the idea in his head takes shape.

“Do you go to school here?”

“Oh,” you blink and the shadows have elongated. The pond is now hugging a school building. You recognise it despite never having seen it before. Aldera Junior High. “I don't,” you answer, sounding sorry. He predictably deflates. “I live close by, though!”

Midoriya perks up again. He shifts his weight between each foot. Red faced and unsteady, he quietly asks, “Do you think we could be friends?”

Your mouth slacks a bit, answers dying in your throat. You look down at your hands, palms upturned and unblemished. The dappled sunlight passes through your incorporeal form. Interaction with anything aside from the true patient during your work is incredibly rare though not entirely unfounded; people who daydream in vivid detail or ruminate chronically on old regrets usually had false memories in excess. Their minds seem to naturally meld around your intrusion, but they never went so far as to seamlessly incorporate you. Which can only mean one thing.

You fit because Midoriya has imagined this numerous times before—befriending you as a child.

Before you can respond you’re being dragged abruptly into a memory, the echo of a blinding flash of pain rippling through you. A reflexive gasp has your chest heaving and you curse at your lack of control. There’s barely a shard of light. Behind you is a hard, jagged surface but below is loose, uprooted. Attempts to move are futile, and agonising. You slump into the displaced rubble, silt and icy embrace, and listen. From above there is only a haunting silence but only a few feet ahead you hear muffled crying and Bakugo’s strangely tinny voice.

Your vision adjusts in increments, from pure darkness to a soft outlined blob to a comfortingly familiar silhouette. Midoriya is poised like an Atlantean statue, holding up the creaking structure and keeping it from crushing the young girl cowered in front of him.

Another wave of pain washes over you as the rubble groans. Midoriya bites back a whimper. His body is sinew and bone pulled taut, skin stretched over a drum. Everything seemed to swell dramatically around him.

“We’re almost there, kid. Two minutes,” Bakugo’s voice spills jarringly from the bulky earpiece hugging Midoriya’s ear. “Now look at Deku for me. You lookin’?” the young girl does as he commands. You see her trepidation falter at the easy smile Deku is wearing. “Bet he’s got a big dumb grin on his face right now, yeah?”

“Y—yeah,” she echoes, clutching the dirtied hem of her dress.

“You think he’d be smiling if there was anythin’ to be scared of?”

Her shoulders slant, the tension released, and she offers a tremulous smile of her own, “No”.

But you can feel, quite viscerally, how scared Deku was in that moment. The nauseating pain in his arms has dwindled into numbness and he daren’t spare himself more than the occasional shallow breath, as if the bloating of his lungs alone might disrupt his balance. Not once does his smile falter.

The surroundings warp again. You struggle against the whiplash, flung unwillingly into another memory. Breath forced from your lungs, the echo of Izuku’s pain dissipates in a blink and you land on unsteady feet, coughing and spluttering in the middle of an eclectic café covered in tinsel.

A sign written in cursive above the chalkboard menu reads ‘Mean Mug’. Melodious Christmas music plays quietly overhead, and the bell above the door is soft enough to get lost in the smooth notes. You’re cocooned by heat and met with bold patterned wallpaper. The unifying palette seems to be warm-toned colours; red, orange and brown come together amidst the mismatched decor to create a cosy atmosphere.

A half heartedly disguised Midoriya shuffles awkwardly by the counter, looking up at the door with trepidation every time the bell chimes to signal another customer. He grins once Uravity arrives in a casual disguise of her own, eyes still bright beneath the shadow of his cap.

They order and settle in a quaint alcove away from the windows and any prying eyes. Neither hero notices your presence as you seat yourself at their table and listen to their conversation. There are things you don’t understand. Code words to be used when discussing sensitive matters outside of their agencies. Inside jokes that you weren’t there for. But most curious of all is the knowing look on Uraraka’s face when Midoriya mentions that he saw you at the hospital that day.

“You’re hopeless, Deku-kun,” she says, as fond as she is amused. “What was your excuse this time?”

Midoriya clears his throat. He grips his cup, pressing until his knuckles turn white. It draws your attention to the thin cast splinting his ring and middle fingers together. “I broke my fingers sparring with Kirishima”.

You remember that, though too entrenched in his memory to attempt receding into yours for details.

“So you leapt halfway across the city to have them stuck together despite the fact that your agency has an on-site infirmary,” Uraraka’s hair falls in a gentle swoop beneath her jaw as she laughs. Midoriya shrinks into himself ever so slightly and her eyes soften. She pokes at his forearm. “C’mon Deku—why haven’t you asked yet? Do you really think you’ll get rejected?”

Glancing back and forth between them, your heart beats a tattoo across the inside of your ribs. You feel as if you’ve both missed something quite important and heard too much. You push your chair backwards and fall away from the table, and the memory, before Midoriya can respond.

With renewed determination—and heat rising to your cheeks—you reign in your quirk, steering cautiously through Midoriya’s subconscious mind as you should’ve in the first place. Images flicker in and around your periphery, each as desperate to draw you in as the last.

You see Midoriya crying, bleeding, lashing out in anger. You see him in a sterilised room, lulled by monotonous beeps, flesh stitched back together. You hear the doctor's voices coalesce into white noise. You watch as he’s handed crudely drawn thank you cards, coffee-stained police reports and thick manila envelopes marked as confidential in large red letters.

You turn away as Eraserhead approaches, a solemn expression, a quiet clink accompanying his footsteps, unnaturally heavy to one side, a young girl with silver hair following right behind him.

Your heart leaps to your throat when he screams in agony. You look down. There’s blood running down the street in rivulets, skin coming apart like wet paper.

You close your eyes. Next you risk a glance All Might is there, thinner than ever. He’s sitting in a wheelchair by a large window swaddled in a thick knitted blanket, watching over the city, smiling.

You turn away, feeling a pang of grief. Midoriya is expressionless, examining his battered body in the mirror, condensation still lingering on the glass, tendrils of heat curling upward as the shower drain gurgles.

Then he’s in a dark room bringing a stranger's hand to his mouth, kissing the centre of their palm, drawing the finger into his kiss-bitten mouth and sucking with a hazy gleam in his eyes.

It’s overwhelming. You stumble and suddenly Shouto is eating across from Izuku. He brings his chopsticks to his lips, noodles hung limp between them. “It’s obvious you like each other. You should just confess,” he says before shovelling his food.

Too private. You turn on your heel and find a patient of yours on the bed, unresponsive. Izuku is beside you, muttering under his breath, thumb pressed to the shadow beneath his lip. He reaches back to brush your wrist and offers a tentative touch of reassurance. You watch yourself lean against him for a moment and then retreat, grateful for his consideration, unneeding of it, and desperately wanting it, all at once.

The scene ripples violently. A reporter is staring up at Izuku with sparkling eyes. Her hair cycles through an array of colours as she shakes with excitement. “It’s amazing, Deku-san,” she insists. “For your spirit to be so heroic that it physically steers your body… that’s special!”

Izuku conceded with a strained laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. You feel how his stomach knots. “I used to think so too,” he says, sounding far away.

It’s the middle of the night somewhere when your search finally comes to a halt. You find you’ve landed on an empty street, in that dense, heavy darkness that makes you feel like the only person in the world who’s awake. There’s a tall residential building hugging the pavement. Intuitively, you know this is where Izuku lives.

Your footsteps are made heavy by Izuku’s lingering hurt and exhaustion. It’s disconcerting, the way he feels about his apartment. Coming home should be effortless. People come home in the same way they draw breath. But to Izuku, it's a weary, miserable journey that he must consciously think about and do. His perennial loneliness is overwhelming, a near physical force repelling you from opening the large glass door.

One foot in the lobby and the surroundings undulate. You’re dropped in the middle of his living room. It’s vacant. There’s a large box of case files tucked under the coffee table, an old takeout box left out on the counter, a blanket strewn haphazardly over the couch cushions. You pinch the soft fabric and rub it between your fingers, bringing it to your nose as you’re overcome by the urge to smell it. Izuku’s warm scent floods your senses.

Something thuds outside, followed by a tinkling of keys on a chain. Your blood runs quicker as the front door abruptly opens. Izuku looks harried as he ducks into the genkan, quite visibly frayed. The upper half of his hero suit is unzipped, pushed down to hang over his hips, littered with debris and dry mud. You hold your breath as he kicks off his shoes and lifts his head, meeting your wide-eyed gaze. The air around you is charged. Trepidation prickles at your nape.

Then the shadows over his stormy face recede. Izuku gentles, light returning to his previously empty eyes. “I’m home,” he breathes. “I missed you”. His voice shivers down your spine—you know in your gut that this is him, the real Izuku, but that fact is hard to believe while he’s looking at you like he wants you.

“Welcome home,” you smile back, slipping the blanket around your shoulders as you move toward him. “Hard day at—?”

Your intentions are to sit him down, keep him calm so as not to be ejected, and explain what’s happening, but before you have the chance his larger body crowds you against the wall—the dull impact reverberates through your ribs, knocking the breath from your lungs and he’s kissing you as if it’s something he always does.

Though it’s more of a collision than a kiss. The sensation is indescribable. Information spills into your mouth, your quirk reflexively absorbing his every fantasy, ache and want. Your knees almost buckle. The blanket puddles at your feet. Fingers snake into his thick hair, nails dig into his roots where skin becomes earth as you try to reciprocate his fervour.

Under your tongue you feel the cut on his lip, under your palms the dark swell across his cheek. You shake off the cloud of desire. Too many lines have already been crossed. “Izuku,” you whine. His name comes naturally now; you know him deeply enough. Blunt teeth graze at your jaw, your throat. You lean away for air only to catch a glimpse of another angry ivory-red bruise peeking from beneath his loose collar. “Izuku,” you tried again. Then louder. “Izuku, that’s enough”.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Izuku rasps as he rears up from the crook of your neck with wide, glassy eyes.

“No—I’m,” your heart beats hard in your ears. Dread sinks low in your belly. “It’s me. I’m really here, Izuku. You’ve been away for too long. I had to use my quirk. We need to wake up”.

“Wake up? You’re… oh,” his eyes grow wider, then shutter closed on a shaky exhale. The cut on his bottom lip has started bleeding again. Rivulets seeped into the cracks between his teeth and stained his gums red. You yearn for the searing heat of his hands as he releases you and staggers backwards to scrub at his face. “Oh my god”.

“Wait. Please don’t throw me out,” you say quickly, reaching to clutch at his wrist in case he panicked. Izuku tenses at the contact only to relax a beat later, his fingers spreading over his eyes so he can get a peek at you. “It took me forever to find you here. There’s a lot of stuff in your head”.

“I won’t. I wouldn’t,” he mumbles. You could collapse in relief. He’s not angry, he’s embarrassed.

“Thank you. I promise I tried not to look at anything too private”. Your mind didn’t make it easy, you think. It was almost like he wanted me to see everything.

Izuku groans and lets his hands drop to his sides in defeat, revealing an entirely pink face. You keep your fingers curled around his wrist, his pulse light and fast. “Okay. I’m okay. We should probably sit down for this,” he eventually croaks, a tremulous smile working its way across his lips. “Drink?”

You pick up the blanket and make your way to the couch while he briefly disappears into the kitchen. Around you the apartment takes on a rosy sheen. A dull clink shudders through the silence as Izuku sets a cup on the coffee table in front of you. It’s your favourite work mug down to the smallest details.

“You remembered this old thing?”

Shaped like a cat, the handle curved in and away like a feline’s tail. It’s piping hot, steam already curling up from it like a crooked finger, like the invitation he meant it to be.

Izuku nodded awkwardly, perched so far forward that it stretched credulity to say he was on the couch at all. He tracks your movements with intensity when you lean to pick up the hot drink. The initial sting to your palms quickly dwindles into numbness as you bring it closer and realise what’s inside. Hot chocolate. The surface sprinkled with those small, cube shaped marshmallows that he likes.

You swallow and feel the warmth spread through your body. A smile pulls at the corner of your mouth as the thick, saccharine flavour floods your senses, washing back the bitterness and thawing your anxiety. You can hear the tension in Izuku’s shoulders snap as he slumps forward, arms hung over his knees and head low in relief. His reaction is oddly vindicating, if not contagious.

“How long have I been asleep?” he asks. “Time is weird here”.

“You’ve been comatose for over two weeks,” you reply. “They tried everything they could before Bakugo insisted on bringing me in. You have a lot of people waiting for you”.

Izuku inhales sharply. He makes an aborted motion to scoot closer before thinking better of it. Your attention strays to the nervous wringing of his battle worn hands. Endeared, you put your mug down and close the distance yourself. Pressed thigh to thigh, you envelop his tightly curled fists, bringing them into your lap. The shaky breath he takes is loud in the otherwise quiet room.

“Honestly I’m surprised you’re still working”.

He looks at you with an unsure, watery smile, sunlight caught in glassy eyes. His voice is thick as he asks, “What do you mean?”

You smile sadly and run your thumb over his knuckles. “You’ve been on patrol. I thought you might’ve locked yourself in your head because you needed a proper break—and who could blame you, really. But you’re working yourself thin even in your dreams”.

Izuku huffed a laugh, more breath than humour. “I love being a hero. It’s what I’ve always wanted,” he says, his voice tight. You sink into his side and feel his diaphragm stutter. “But it isn’t everything. It felt like I was suffocating and I needed something more. Something to come home to for a little while…”

His red-rimmed eyes quickly return to his lap when you meet them. “I still can’t believe you’re here. Your quirk really is incredible”.

You can feel the shame swatting at you like a summer-born heatwave, reminded of just how deeply you’ve invaded his privacy, and how easily you overstepped your bounds.

“I’m so sorry,” he continues, at the same time that you tell him, “I’m sorry, Izuku”.

“Please. Let me go first,” he murmurs like a question. You nod your assent. “I’m sorry I forced myself on you. I thought you were a part of my imagination, like the rest of this place. I should have realised you weren’t. I’m sorry,” he rambles on. “I wanted to be closer to you but I got carried away and I’m sorry”.

“You couldn’t have known. I should have told you it was me as soon as you walked in,” you firmly interject. Izuku doesn’t look any less stricken in your periphery, cheek sunken where he’s gnawing at the flesh. “And you didn’t force anything. I hardly pushed you away,” your brow wrinkles and you smile despite yourself. “I got a little lost in your head, too. Not my most professional moment I admit. But I wouldn’t want to leave either, if we were cuddled up in here all day”.

“Really?” Izuku blinks. Hope colours his cheeks. He clears his throat and shifts in place as he tries very hard to appear unaffected. “You don’t think it’s creepy—me picturing all this with you?”

You think of that young boy yoked with the burden of expectation and feel your heart crack. You can still taste his desires. They’re insipid, belying their age, as though they’d lingered long enough to stale. Izuku treasured his friends and fans', their love and loyalty; yet he felt guilty for allowing them to foster such a blind faith in his goodness. He was a man with faults like any other, capable of making mistakes, of inflicting harm. More than anything Izuku longed for someone to see the darker, uglier corners of his life, and make room for all of him. And you wanted to be the one to do it.

“I’ve imagined this with you. This and more,” bolstered by everything you’ve seen, the confession spills out with startling ease. Your eyes squint above the curve of your grin. “I like you too,” you coaxed his fist open as you spoke, mapping out the carved furrows, shallows and depths on his palm. “A lot”.

“Oh,” he exhales, slowly entangling your fingers.

You give an emphatic nod.

“How mad is Kacchan?”

“Pretty mad. But when is he not?” you laugh at his grimace. “I’ll be there as a buffer when you wake up. It’s my professional opinion that you need a few more days to recuperate and take me out for crêpes. So will you come home with me?”

There’s a gleam in his eyes—a combination of warmth and weight that tugs at your chest. His gaze flickers across your face, from your lips to your eyes in askance. You lean in and he kisses you again, sipping gently at your mouth, firm and slightly sticky with congealed blood. Strange. It feels so real. You suppose it is, in all the ways that matter.

“Okay,” he whispers after one last peck to your lips. You get to your feet as he stands and gestures nervously toward the genkan. “I, uh. I don’t really know how to get out of here so… lead the way?”

You laugh and take him by the hand. “Don’t worry. The way home is always a lot faster. It’s a little disorienting—watch your step,” you warn as he follows you through the front door. Rather than the lobby, or a stairwell, both bodies are swallowed up by darkness.

Spat out just as abruptly, your senses return to you piece by piece. Breathing through the vertigo you peel your eyes open to the rapid rise and fall of Izuku’s chest as he reorients himself. A crick in your neck, a knot in your spine. The clock reads 07:12. There are already nurses bustling around the hospital bed, likely alerted by the frantic heart monitor; that which does little to hide the way Izuku’s pulse stutters when you lift your head to get a look at him.

“I’m up,” he says, throat rough from disuse. There’s a shaky smile on his face. “I’m home”.

Your hands are still entwined, albeit a little sweaty. You smile, “Welcome home”.

#deku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #q’d

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