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fueledbysano · 2 years

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𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐑 𝐈𝐈 ᴍᴀɴᴊɪʀᴏ sᴀɴᴏ

summary: The body is ruled by its own impulses; after all, it's what we can't control that makes us human. With the intensity of the moment drawing to its end, the storm calming down its winds, and a fervent rush dying as time passes, can we cool off and tidy up the messes we caused?

✧ pairing: Mikey x reader

✧ includes: part two to “Getaway Car”, angst to comfort, emotional ride, suggestive themes— nsfw, adultery

✧ a/n: I know it's been forever but I finally finished this piece, get ready. I literally played with my own feelings writing this, I hope it does the same to you >:)

wc; 3.3k

“What do you mean?”

Mikey's eyes drifted from your hair to your alluring, yet fearful eyes, and then down to your lips which he adored so much.

He recalls the butterflies and flutters in his heart the first time he kissed them. He remembered the surge of adrenaline he'd always had when you were together, but this time it was even stronger.

He loved that feeling. He wanted to feel it again, because he missed it. He missed you

and yet, he was so scared to let you in again, to take you into a life he tried to stay you out of in the first place.

But he missed you more than he could bear.

“Mikey, I want you.” You muttered quietly through a strained voice— almost too quiet, but he heard it clear as day.

His heart fluttered as he wished he could show you how he felt the same way. Until he realized he was also inspecting your face, from your eyes to your nose and, eventually, to your lips.

You had an intoxicatingly appealing gravitational pull on each other, and it was addictive.

“I want you too.” He whispered through slightly parted lips, “More than anything...”

Intuitively, Mikey allowed his hands to reach up your cheeks, carefully running his thumb over your skin while you looked into his eyes with glitter of stars which started to reflect into his.

The world stilled, and the cars passing by in the background silenced.

Only your rapidly quickening heartbeats could be heard.

You found yourselves staring into each other's lips, the enticing moment you shared with each other was now unbearable.

With Mikey's hand on your cheek softly, without thinking, his thumb drifted to ghost over your bottom lip as he stared at your frame.

Mikey leaned in just a fraction closer to your lips, and you were sure he could hear your heart beating through your chest. Your noses brushed, the obvious yearning for each other's touch was apparent as you wished nothing more than to close the space.

Until Mikey realized what he was doing, pulling back and forcing himself away from your touch.

He shook his head, keeping his gaze on the damp pavement. “But you're not mine anymore.” He painfully spoke.

“You're someone's fiancee, and I gotta respect that. We should—”

“Mikey,” You stopped him, urging his gaze to meet your concentrated ones.

But not before he was blindsided by your lips on his.

His entire body froze for a second before he instantly melted against your touch, the familiarity was comforting and he basked into the euphoria he felt with you.

You pressed your lips together, perfectly molding in a synchronized rhythm. and for a brief moment, you pulled apart to stare into each other's eyes to process what you were feeling and what had just happened.

and you smiled happily, connecting your lips eagerly once more.

You knew exactly what you were getting into, and you didn't care.

You knew this was wrong— only because you were engaged; yet, you didn't care.

all that mattered at that moment for you was each other.

When you were together, you were the screaming colors while the world was blanch.

and you loved that feeling.

you loved him.

Sparks flew at each and every touch, your hot breaths spilling into each other's mouths as you grasped closer to each other.

You took the collar of his shirt closer as Mikey's hand entangled itself in your hair, taking you impossibly closer together.

and hell, did this kiss make up for the lost twelve years.

This intense, feverish desire was fueled by the aching longing to feel the other's touch again you never knew still existed.

You wished you could hold onto the sentiment forever, but that's impossible.

Nostalgia, indeed, is the heart's way of reminding you of something you once loved.

but it is also a peculiar kind of dissatisfaction— a temporary, deceiving fondness romanticized by your broken heart.

Mikey furrowed his brows as he matched your intense passion that you poured into the kiss.

He missed this so much, he couldn't even begin to describe how unearthly perfect it felt to be with you again.

I love you, I never stopped loving you.

He hoped that he could tell that,

but it would be unfair.

“[ Name ],” As much as he hated to, Mikey pulled away from the kiss, resting your foreheads together, noses brushing as you caught up to your breaths. “I'm still taking you back.” He decided.

His words pierced like shards ready to place themselves in the chambers of your heart, but they were also just what you needed to open your eyes.

It was a sobering experience— like that really depressing moment when you wake up from your dream, the ending of your favorite song, and reading the last line of a romantic novel.

The future is terrifying; but, you can't just run back to your past because it's familiar.

Yes, it's enticing... But, it's a mistake.

You nod in agreement, taking his hands in yours, “It's just a kiss.” You assured, silently agreeing with his proposal.

The silence has never been so loud upon riding back to the chapel.

With [ Name ]'s arms secured around Mikey's frame, she let the side of her head fall on his back, refusing to watch the wedding venue's structure slowly approach to a close.

Because that also meant closing the door on her and Manjiro.

Maybe, that runaway show she pulled earlier was all about crossing their paths again, then, never looking back.

“You're here.” He spoke upon hitting the brakes, before getting off first and then taking her hand in his for assistance.

But there was just something hindering [ Name ] from stepping foot in the building once more, watching the ceremony area fill with guests from a distance still horrified the bride.

“Mikey.” She called, in which he hummed in response, hands in pockets as he leaned on his motorcycle seat.

“I can't walk through there, sneak me in?” She asks.

The sight of [ Name ] holding out her hand hor him to take only made it impossible to say no.

“Alright.” He nods before taking the keys out of the ignition, taking her hand as she heads towards the building's fire escape at the back.

“Yep, this is me.” Upon reaching the second floor, [ Name ] points at her room's balcony before letting Mikey pull her up.

“Thank god I didn't lock this.” She mumbled before pushing the glass doors open, leading back to the room she was just getting ready in earlier.

The silence in the room was deafening, but, upon looking back at Mikey at the balcony, he watched [ Name ] with a bittersweet smile, admiring her from afar.

The moment felt excruciatingly familiar, particularly from the letter he'd written her twelve years ago.

“I'm afraid to look you in the eyes because I won't be able to walk away.”

Except, this time, he really had no choice but to do just that— look her in the eyes and walk away.

“You're back here now.” He spoke. [ Name ] knew exactly where this conversation is going. and she didn't exactly like it.

and what she doesn't know is that the longer he stays, is just the more she'd want him.

She's going to do just that.

“Why? Come in...” She offered, taking his hands in hers and then pulling him inside the room, closing the balcony doors shut.

“You know I'm gonna have to leave at some point.” He pointed out.

“But not now.” [ Name ] replied fearlessly, subconsciously toying with his hair and accidentally tugging on it which earned a sharp inhale from Mikey.

A smug smile painted on her lips, “Stay.” He smiled back at her words, both of them now subtly swaying from side to side.

“Make me.” He answered.

“Oh,” He felt a finger hook underneath his chin, gently guiding him to look up and meet [ Name ]'s eyes.

But when he met her stare this time, her eyes seemed to darken, and half lidded, now matching his. Intense, yet pristine.

“[ Name ]...” his voice came out as a mere whisper, breath hitching in his throat.

The mood in the room suddenly shifted, rays of sunlight seeping through the curtains illuminated the dim space.

Mikey reached a hand up to cup [ Name ]'s cheek, stroking her jawline with his thumb. His eyes locked on her lips before colliding them with his own once again.

Their lips danced across each other's, pouring in twice the affection they shared earlier. His hands wandered her waist, while [ Name ]'s hands grasped and pulled on the buttons of his shirt to pull him closer to her, as if it was even possible.

Tongues danced as they explored the familiar taste of each other, mouths moving before their minds did.

Their breaths picked up, as did their heart rates as he held onto her body tighter.

and before [ Name ] knew it, she suddenly felt Mikey's hands grip her upper thighs to hoist her onto the bed in the middle of the room.

He knocked off the petals and flowers to make room for her to set down. She let out an accidental yelp, earning a smug smirk from Mikey against her lips as his hands returned to her upper thighs.

He knelt in between her legs, her sheath dress allowing limited access to the closeness he wanted with her. His lips broke apart from hers with a soft sound, their noses touching and lips swollen; hovering over each other with raspy, hot breaths.

[ Name ] caught Mikey's darkened gaze, his emotion particularly radiating with lust.

But before she could get a word in, his lips were on hers again, sharing desperate, needy open-mouthed kisses.

Breathless moans and whines escaped their lips from the earnest kiss they shared, intensifying with every passing second.

Until [ Name ] had the buttons of his shirt undone, completely discarding the clothing further down the bed before his eyes looked down at hers with a dark glance, then planting his lips to her sweet spot.

His breath against her skin sent shivers down her spine, making her lean her neck to expose more of her skin to him.

“God damn it,” She took a fistful of his hair before beinging his lips back up to hers once more before he could leave marks.

He hoist her further up the mattress to wrap her legs around his hips, now bunching up the fabric of her dress further.

[ Name ] gasped upon feeling his cold fingers make contact with her sensitive skin, his index hooking at the seams of her underwear before dragging them off her thighs painfully slow, while Mikey had a complacent smile on for having to be doing something that [ Name ]'s fiancee should've rightfully been doing. Yet, instead, the pleasure was all his; having her writhe underneath his touch.

“Wanna fuck you,” They kept the intensity of their kiss as he undid the button of his jeans, eagerly slipping off his underwear partially.

“Eyes on me, darling.” He orders. "Mhm." [ Name ] was too entranced into his eyes to even feel the stretch the tip of his dick was giving her as he slowly slid inside.

"Fuck!" [ Name ] threw her head back, struggling to speak as the sensation only grew better the deeper he sunk in. "Oh my god..." He groaned in bliss as his hips slammed down onto her own, his dick splitting her walls as it took him perfectly.

His body rested on top of hers as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear about how well she was taking him. The contact is especially intimate on top of his affirmations.

He stilled for a good minute, letting her adjust before giving one deep roll. The sound he got from her was more than reassuring. It felt wonderful, for them both.

His cock had a slight curve to it that pressed right against the pleasure spot deep within her, the one his fiancee would never reach.

The feeling of finally being one after twelve years all led up to tonight and their emotions were running high. Mikey felt incredibly emotional with a warm feeling spreading deep in his chest as she looked down at [ Name ]. This definitely had got to be one of the best things that had happened to him in a while.

Her fingers tangling through his strands had pulled him back to reality.

"You feel so good." [ Name ] said with a smile while rutting his hips into hers. Mikey searched for any trace of regret in her eyes and saw nothing but sincerity and admiration. It was overwhelming. His emotions were finally catching up to him.

“Oh fuck,” He breathe out, now creating a steady rhythm in and out of her.

His pace began to grow aggressive, lips dancing across [ Name ]'s before balancing himself on the bedframe with his available hand.

[ Name ] found the sight incredibly hot, smiling against the kiss before hooking her legs around his hips to secure their connection.

It was then that Mikey picked up the pace of his thrusts, hands gripping firmly on your hip and on the bed frame.

“God fucking damn,” she cursed upon feeling one of her leg get thrown over Mikey's shoulder, hitting even an impossibly further spot.

“Why? He can't fuck you this good?” The sound of skin clapping together bounced off the walls of the room, through the bed creaking and the breathy moans of them mixing together like a symphony.

[ Name ] felt herself writhing underneath his touch, stomach clenched in a knot, all the tension built up waiting for a release.

“Shit, I'm—” He whispered into the crook of her neck, head lifting to meet her eyes.

[ Name ] nod in approval, and it wasn't long before he picked up his pace impossibly quicker.

Her breathy moans of his name was enough to make him shoot his release, after immediately pulling out, while she felt her own release pushing her over the edge in ecstasy while Mikey emptied himself on her thighs.

Until he collapsed on top of her, sweat coming in contact with the material of her gown.

Mikey decided to silence his whines of pleasure by latching his lips onto her exposed skin, fingers tiredly hovering over her forearm.

“[ Name ]? Are you okay?” [ Name ] and Mikey immediately froze, his lips still in the crook of her neck upon hearing Hina's voice from the hallway.

“Uh, yeah.” She casually spoke as if Mikey wasn't currently nipping at her clavicle.

His lips shifted to kiss up her neck, then jaw, making her want to let out another yelp of pleasure.

“Do you need help getting ready?”

“Uh, no!” She almost yelled. “I mean, I got this, thank you.”

“Okay, ceremony's starting soon!”

“Oh shit.” [ Name ] turned back to meet Mikey's deviant gaze. “You're naughty.” She chuckled, stealing one last kiss from his lips.

“I know.” He put on a proud smile, watching her catch her breath and recover from their licentious deeds.

“Let me walk you down the aisle.” Mikey propped his head up, genuinely serious about the idea, which only earned a chuckle from [ Name ].

“That's a bad idea.” She spoke.

“This is a bad idea.” He remarked, tracing a hand up her thigh from under the blanket, eliciting a laugh from [ Name ].

“What you gonna say? Your fiance's gonna kill me? You know that doesn't threaten me.” He proudly spoke.

“I know.” She replied, turning on her side to face him.

“It's a good thing...” [ Name ] trailed off, tracing her fingers over Mikey's features. “Let's just say... he doesn't know who Sano Manjiro was to me.” She ghosted her thumb over his lips before planting a kiss.

“We should get ready.”

The officiator came out and asked everyone to stand up. It was starting, all eyes would be on the bride now.

“I think it's my time.” [ Name ] spoke to Mikey behind closed doors upon hearing their officiator speak.

“It is.” He replied, hooking their arms together before he took her hand,

“I wish you all the best.” They both didn't dare look at each other, because if they did, tears would be involved and would raise too many questions.

“Have a great life with him, [ Name ].” Was his last well-wishing words he spoke to her along with a kiss on the forehead, before the grand doors open for them to step out of.

The guests look at her, taking photos of your dress, waving, smiling, questioning who was the man with you. and no one made a sound except the quartet playing a beautiful harmony.

[ s / o ] could only focus solely on [ Name ], teary eyed upon finally seeing her in the long awaited day.

While [ Name ] kept on a timid look, throwing [ s / o ] a thin smile until they come to a stop, now feeling Mikey's grasp untangle from hers.

He offered her a painful smile, now passing her hand onto [ s / o ]'s before taking his seat a few benches down the altar.

"You're bringing not just each other's devotion into your lives, but also the companionship and gift of profound trust. You're committing to share your strength, duties, and love with one other, as this partnership need more than just love to succeed." It was now time for words and speech of wisdom, lecturing everyone.

"It takes trust, to know in your hearts that you want only the best for each other. It takes dedication, to stay open to one another, to learn and grow, even when it is difficult to do so. And it takes faith, to go forward together without knowing what the future holds for you both." The officiator spoke.

The word "love" appears in a lot of stories, yet no one can really describe what love is, and that shouldn't be a problem.

Much has been said; nonetheless, it is not always possible to express how you feel about someone in words.

You simply just do.

[ s / o ] is in pure tears upon listening to the officiator's words to the couple, while [ Name ] appreciated them, yet, continuing to gaze off elsewhere in the room.

Maybe, they should've gone for a municipal court wedding, just a quick and easy process.

Here's the thing about mistakes—

“And you, [ Name ] and [ s / o ]—” The officiator's words got cut short upon seeing a white-haired man stand from the crowd, as if contemplating to speak.

everyone else in the room followed, sending him deathly and confusing looks.

“Sorry.” Mikey apologized before taking his seat.

Hina, stood by the altar just a few steps from [ Name ] knew that the man felt and looked familiar; she just couldn't make out who he was.

But, upon hearing his voice, she got closer to figuring it out.

“As I was saying you—”

Sometimes, even when you know something's a mistake, you gotta make it anyway.

“I love you, [ Name ].” Mikey had finally gathered all the courage in him. It was now or never, because if he'd sit this one out a little later, then, it's over.

His unseemly confession elicited gasps from everyone, some guests starting to whisper and gossip with one another.

Hina gasped upon the realization, finally pinpointing who the man is

“Manjiro...” [ Name ] faintly spoke, not expecting his statement at all.

“I love you, I never stopped loving you.” He simply spoke.

[ Name ] didn't know what took over her, but, one second; she was on the altar, the next, she's dashing down the aisle, taking Mikey by the hand, and sprinting out of the place together just like how she did earlier.

But now, with Mikey. She chose him.

Laughters of joy filled the air as Mikey and [ Name ] cruised down the highway, basking into their great escape.

Okay, yes, it's a mistake.

You know it's a mistake. But, it was a beautiful mistake and you don't regret anything.

and you would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

Fly for this while, let the world collapse. You'll come back to build another one of your own with Mikey.

Just yours.

tagging: @avi-ren @r-indou @cinnamonruts @qualitygiantshoepsychic @skebrii @night-shadowblood-writes2 @shujispet @7ittlemeow @yolotokyoo @sinfullsun @rositabluemoon @yunho-leeknow @evesou707 @sakumoly @huuuuutao @kietsusae @kosairr @matchaaat @whydohumansss @sleezy-axeriix @urprettyfairy

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silver-weasel · 3 years

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Diving (Deku x Reader)

Pairing : Deku x fem!reader (aged-up characters)

Rating : E, 18+

Tags : smut • fem!reader (she/her) • best friends to lovers / childhood friends to lovers • quirkless AU • p*rn with feelings (like. a lot of them) • public sex (more or less) • switching • hair pulling? • pining • Deku being flustered and an absolute angel what’s new • Reader being a teasing brat • It’s all soft and fluffy, I’m as vanilla as you can get 🤷‍♀️ • Happy birthday to the bestest boyyy I love him so much it hurts

Word count : 10 600 (Holy sh—)

A/N : Thank you @hoe-doroki my beloved and savior for beta-ing <3

Written for @rat-zuki’s collab in honor of our favorite birthday boy, The Deku Agenda Escapes no One. Thank you so much for letting me join! (go check out the other amazing writers and artists!)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

The ground grinds repeatedly under your hiking shoes, some pebbles being kicked forward on your way. You’re way too deep in the forest to hear any cars passing by and during the two hours you’ve been here you haven’t run into anyone. The place seems empty, the only souls breathing the forest’s thick air being you, Izuku and the birds chirping all around you.

The afternoon is coming to an end, the sun sinking down on its way to hide behind the mountains. The remains of its soft light are filtering through the dense leaves all around and above you. You’re surrounded by green, lush and immeasurable greenery, every plant merging into another.

You’ve left the marked paths, now wandering deep in the richest, boundless part of a forest you both know like the back of your hand after roaming it all over innumerable times. All over, except for this part, in which you’re setting foot for the first time today. Your many previous hiking sessions were shortened by your questionable sense of organization, always arriving too late to explore further into the unknown.

Leaves brush against your knees with every single step you take as you follow Izuku on his heels. He’s moving at a steady pace, his hands holding tight the straps of his yellow backpack that he’s had for as long as you can remember. He’s always so organized, has everything you two could eventually need and generally never do. Two huge flasks of water, an entire meal he calls ‘little snacks’, with sandwiches, fruits, protein bars, even hard-boiled eggs. A first-aid kit with disinfectant, bandages, scissors and painkillers. Hell, you’re even wondering if he has any pads for you in there, in case of an unexpected period. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

You giggle lightly when you see him stumble for the sixth time since you got here; he can’t seem to keep his curious eyes from drifting up and around, looking in every direction, probably retaining every detail and logging it in some impressive mental database of his. And he’s commenting on every little thing he sees too; he makes you notice things you never would have if it weren’t for his candid interest in everything.

“Oh! Look at that bird!” he exclaims, pointing at a branch over your heads. “Do you see it, right there, with the red mark!”

You turn your gaze to where he’s pointing and see a little bird, very cute, but so tiny you’re wondering how one could spot it without specifically looking for it. That’s probably what you like most about Izuku: his attention to detail. That’s the thing—nothing is too small for him, everything is worthy of interest. His eyes always light up with such curiosity, this child-like wonder and it was always one of your favorite things to witness growing up.

When he came over to your house at age six, he was always running around with some bug on his forearm, calling your name, yelling, “Look at this!”

Most of the time, it was a snail or a ladybug, and that always managed to catch your interest. Sometimes, it was a spider or a beetle, and he had you screaming in horror more than once, running to your mother’s legs with weeping eyes. Those times, he always watched you go with wide, sad eyes and a wobbly lip, because, “I would never hurt her, Mom! I swear I didn’t want to scare her!”

“Oh, yeah, I see it! It’s so cute!”

And it is cute, the way his huge green eyes go even rounder in amazement. You treasure these hikes for providing occasions to witness this. But as much as you wish this moment could last forever, the sun is beginning to set, you probably shouldn’t go deeper in the forest at sundown.

“We should probably head back to the car, Izuku. It’s gonna be dark soon.”

“Come on, it’s still so light—there’s no rush!” His lips crook a bit into an impish smile. “Scared that a bear is coming to get you?”

“There aren’t any bears here—we’ve been coming for five years.”

“Because if it’s the bears you’re afraid of,” he begins, ignoring you on purpose, “you know I’ll protect you, right?” he says, sticking out his chest like he’s some superhero.

“Against a bear? Right.”

“You’re underestimating me? That’s just mean.”

You chuckle at his antics, shooting him a look of yours that says, ‘Come on, please?’.

His eyes soften a bit, but he’s used to that look; it’s been years since it worked on him as well as you’d like it to.

“We can just keep going this way, then we’ll make a loop and head back to the car directly! It’ll be even shorter this way.”

“Alright, let’s do that,” you agree, and the smile it elicits from him makes something tingle deep in your stomach.

You move forward again, sinking deeper within the forest. It’s becoming harder and harder to walk, brambly branches and huge leaves blocking your way more and more with every step.

You’re a bit ahead of him when you catch sight of a sparkle behind the bushes. Just a glimpse of light, but you’re positive you saw it. Is there water here? You never really looked at a map of the place before—you just always went wherever you felt like and used the same tracks on the way back. You hurry up a bit, curious eyes fixed on that glimmer of light.

Soon enough the dense greenery comes to an end, and you’re finally out of the bushes, finding your way into a little clearing. You’re standing, speechless, in front of a pond: it’s about forty feet wide, catching the last rays of sunshine in a dazzling reflection. The water is surrounded by gigantic trees big enough to be home to an entire niche of biodiversity, and a half-sandy, half-stony shore with reeds rising from the water on both sides.

It’s all calm and quiet and massive trees, branches pouring, cascading above still water. The air feels cool, filled with a pure smell of dew and spring even though it’s the end of a hot day of July.

Izuku is close behind you and lets out a very cute, “Whoa,” ditching his backpack on the ground next to you in the middle of the cove. The both of you just stand there for a moment in complete silence, aside from the birds chirping. Izuku breaks it first:

“How come we’ve never seen this before? This place is amazing.” He sounds distant as he speaks, soaking up his surroundings like he always does.

“I guess you never know everything about anything,” you say mindlessly, without detaching your gaze of the wonderful view ahead.

He’s standing close to you, very close. You’re only noticing now that you’re coming down from the high of your discovery. Your arms are brushing, you can feel his body heat from how close you two are. It wouldn’t be the first time; you’re no stranger to being physically close to Izuku. You’ve been playing together since you were able to put one foot in front of the other. And you wish you could say it feels any different right now, but that would be a lie. Being close to him always felt the same. Always felt like the only easy thing in your life. The only constant.

Yet it’s not enough. No matter how close, it’s never enough, it never was. You hate yourself for feeling that way; you’ve never been the greedy, unsatisfied type. You have everything with Izuku. Well, almost everything.

But right now this place—this very quiet, beautiful place with no one in sight is doing things to your fertile imagination. Despite the sun just beginning to set, the summer air still remains thick with heat. You find yourself staring in the abyss of that water, admiring the masterpiece of a reflection on the surface, a painting of leaves and clouds and blue sky. It calls you, sings an irresistible song of fresh water on sweaty skin and strong, freckled arms wrapped around you.

You don’t know if the slight, insignificant detail that you would have to undress in order to dive into that water—since you didn’t bring a swimsuit—is a better reason to do it or to refrain from doing so.

You’ve lost count of how many moments you’ve shared with him just like this one. So many chances for you to take. You never have.

Back to the original issue: can you see yourself walk out of that clearing the way you always do? Can you see yourself going home, adding this missed chance to your growing collection of lost memories, of hands within your reach that you chose not to take?

The answer pops in your mind, crystal clear for the first time since you met him.

You drop your bag on the ground, turning to Izuku with a delighted expression stretching your features. The look on your face reminds him of one he’d seen on you as a kid, bouncing on the balls of your feet in front of the ice cream truck. At this moment he just knows you’ve got some stupid shenanigan in mind, like you always do. Once again, he isn’t wrong.

“Wanna take a dip?” You’re squinting at him from his side, a mischievous smile lighting up your face.

“I-I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” he stutters.

It’s been a long time since he last stuttered in front of you. He got rid of it years ago, but it still resurfaces sometimes in front of intimidating strangers or in a socially uncomfortable situation. Never in front of you, though.

“Me neither,” you answer plainly with that same impish smile, and his eyes go round at your implications.

“Wait, you can’t be—Oh my God—”

His heart does a great flip in his chest when he catches you taking the hem of your shirt up over your head. In less than five seconds, you’ve got him scorching hot, feverish and suddenly he can’t tell right from left.

His reflex is to bury his face in his hands. He respects you too much to take a peek, but you’re making things very difficult for him. He can hear you move towards the water, can hear the thump of your forgotten shoes hitting the ground one after the other, can hear the soft pad of your naked feet on the rocks.

“For the love of God, please, put it back on…”

“What? Look at this view, it would be a shame not to make the most of it!”

He’s not looking at the view right now, he can’t let himself. He knows very well he won’t be able to focus on the trees when you’re standing pretty much naked—although he’s not sure to what extent—in front of him. You could be entirely naked right now and he wouldn’t be able to tell, his burning face still hidden in his shaking hands. His voice comes out muffled when he stammers, “I-It’s starting to get late, we really should get back to the car…”

“What, you’re scared of the bears?”

He can’t see you, but he knows you’re sporting that smug grin of yours, the one he first saw when you showed him your impressive collection of Pokémon cards on your preschool’s playground. You’ll have to take a lingering silence for an answer.

“Izuku, come on. I don’t bite.”

He’s not entirely sure the sight of you won’t gnaw him to the bone, won’t melt his entire body down and leave him a hot mess. He won’t be a man anymore, just a walking flame fueled by the heavenly sight of you. No, he can’t let himself fall into that. Obviously you don’t know what you’re doing to him.

Nevertheless, you’re probably the most stubborn person he knows. And he’s friends with Katsuki Bakugou, for God’s sake. He won’t be able to get out of this as easily as he wants, especially as he hears the delicate noise of water splitting at your feet as you enter the little pond.

He slowly moves his hands off of his face. You must have your back turned to him, so maybe he can drift his eyes off somewhere—

You are in front of him, thigh deep in the water now. In nothing but your panties. Your white, flower-patterned lace panties that are doing a very bad job at covering your backside. He lets out a long, pained whine, standing in the middle of the little shore with his arms dangling down his sides, not sure what to do with them.

“Why didn’t you at least keep your bra on?” His voice comes out way more wobbly than he intended to.

You turn a little so you can look at him, and it takes every little bit of strength he’s got left to look you in the eye. But as you’re turning around, the smooth curve of your breast starts showing, and God, is that your nipple?

He wants a giant hole to swallow him right now. He wants some forest creature to come for him right this instant, anything to keep him away from you, keep him from doing things he might regret. To punish him for having such thoughts about you, because you trust him, you’re so oblivious, so innocent, and he’s so weak against this inner monster that’s eating him away.

With a little frown, you deliver the answer like it’s self-evident as you kneel into the water, the surface just above your chest:

“I didn’t want it to get wet.”

“But you’re okay with your panties getting wet?”

The realization of what he just said is slow but surely comes. And when it does, he wishes even harder to get erased from the surface of this planet he’s already lucky enough to share with you. There is a long silence, and all he can hear for a few seconds are the birds chirping and the violent pounding of his heart against his ribcage, straining to get out.

You turn back around to look at him, dumbstruck.

“I’m more than okay with that—”

“Please forget I just said that,” he cuts you off. He’s not sure he can bear to hear more of this.

“I’m never forgetting you said that. It’s pure gold,” you scoff.

He can only answer with a drawn-out whine. He doesn’t have any choice in this, does he?

When you dive in the water, he takes both his shaking hands to the hem of his shirt and starts undressing.

What the fuck am I doing?

The water is so pure you can see underwater as clear as day: the few rocks at the bottom, the little silvery fish all around you, and the last rays of sunlight permeating through the calm surface above your head. The water feels a bit cold on your naked skin since the sunlight and summer heat must only hit the clearing at certain hours of the day. Still, the cold water isn’t enough to clear your foggy mind.

What was I thinking?

You’ve always been a bashful person, why is it changing all of a sudden? Maybe it’s the devastating effect Izuku has on you.

You try to calm down a bit, taking a deep breath. So, you’re pretty much naked in front of him. Well, it definitely wouldn’t be the first time, and it (probably) won’t be the last. Now you just have to go through with your stupid idea. It’s no big deal, it’s only Izuku. Only Izuku.

Only Izuku.

Fuck.

You finally surface, not only because you can’t hide underwater forever, but also because, surprisingly, you’re not a fish, you have to actually breathe.

You push your dripping hair to the back of your head, still careful to keep your breasts under the water. Izuku’s already in to his hips when you turn around to look at him, your vision still blurry from the water trickling all over your face. He’s merciless, standing like that, only the elastic of his boxers peeking out of the water. You’re a bit surprised by the plain, black color. You were expecting something along the lines of blue, yellow and red. Izuku is full of surprises.

But nevermind the color of his underwear—what you find just above is mesmerizing. Your indiscreet, incorrigible gaze can’t help following the thin trail of hair tracing up to his navel, then the stunning lines of his abs, partly hidden behind his freckled forearms shyly crossed over them. The freckles spread up his powerful arms, gently sunkissed, scattering all over his broad shoulders.

Is he actually hiding, though? Doesn’t he know he looks like he was carved by the gods themselves?

“Have you done this before?”

The sound of his voice startles you a bit. Ah, right. You were shamelessly staring. It takes you a couple of seconds to force your distracted mind back into focus. “Done what?”

“Skinny dipping?”

“No, it’s my first time. It looks like it’s yours too.” His big, bright eyes drift around like they don’t know where to look. It’s really cute.

“It is,” he admits, now kneeling into the water as well. “I would’ve thought you were used to this.” You arch a single eyebrow in an amused frown.

“What, do I look like I have a professional degree in skinny dipping?”

“No, it’s just…You look confident, it just seemed like it.”

Confident? You’re nowhere near confident—you’re terrified. You try to keep your cool, but it’s probably the first time you’re putting on an act in front of Izuku.

“Well, you’re not so bad at it yourself.” You don’t miss the little blush coating his cheeks at that. “Also, I’m not exactly naked.”

“You’re not exactly dressed either, that’s a...v-very small piece of clothing.” He’s blushing a bit harder, looking away.

“Oh, seems like you paid some attention to my piece of clothing then, good to know.”

Now he’s quite simply scarlet. A very cute, very hot, freckled tomato. He’s so easily flustered, it only makes you want to tease him some more.

“Were your legendary All Might boxers in the dirty hamper? That’s a shame. I’m a bit disappointed,” you say in a mockingly innocent voice.

He doesn’t retort, simply stands there on his knees, shooting you an unreadable look and a little pout. After a few seconds, you open your mouth to continue, only to be startled by a strong splash hitting you in the face.

When you snap out of your shock, hair and face dripping all over your shoulders, you look up at him with what must be the scariest look of betrayal. Or the most ridiculous, apparently, since he starts laughing, louder and louder, and can’t seem to stop.

“Oh, you’re pretty pleased with yourself right now, aren’t you?” You can’t help but chuckle while talking, his laugh is so contagious.

“I am, yeah!” he manages to articulate, only starting to calm down.

As the calm of the forest returns, you watch his eyes go back to their usual round shape bit by bit, his face relaxing again. His smile causes butterflies to fly up and around in a whirlwind deep into your belly. You chuckle a bit at the feeling, almost embarrassed by how he’s making you feel like you’re in some dumb, cliche rom-com movie. On the outside, you must look a bit like a maniac, but he’s a nice guy, so he simply asks, “What is it?”

And before you can overthink yourself out of it, you’re hurling yourself at him. He barely has the chance to stutter a weak, “Wait!” before you’re putting all your weight on him, sinking his head deep in the water. Izuku may well be a nice guy, but you know he isn’t going to let you get away with this, so you’re not surprised when you’re dragged underwater by your legs. He lets go immediately, a bit abruptly, even, like it burnt his hands to touch you.

You both emerge from the water soon, and it takes you a second to get rid of the water blurring your vision, but then it hits you. How tantalizingly close you are to each other now, your bodies an inch away from touching. You’re both on your knees, enveloped in the coolness of crystal clear water and the reflections of the canopy of leaves above your heads. A spark of electricity makes you freeze on the spot; you’re so close to him your breasts slightly brush against his chest.

After a little eternity, you find the courage to look up at his face. He looks mindblowing, really. Despite the two decades you spent together, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen the pure, astonishing details of his freckles from this close. You would remember it, you definitely would. It’s a spectacular view, one of those visual memories that comes back to hit you in flashes. His nose and cheekbones are covered in them, drawing a mesmerizing pattern, more complex than the Milky Way itself. They’re an uncrackable equation, like a weird quirk of nature that you’ll never understand but don’t question anyway. They spread a little more scattered, but still very present, up to his forehead and down to his delicate jaw.

And his eyes—you could just drown in them. There’s this bright, blinding light there that feels like laying in the grass and looking up at the sunlight coating the leaves of this tree, the one you grew up near and always played under.

You swear you didn’t move, neither did he, and still you manage to get even closer to him. Now it’s you against the inexorable attraction that pulls you towards him like a fierce magnet. And it’s a losing battle, you think, as you’re both entering each other’s personal space like you share just one.

There’s nothing friendly about the way he can’t look you in the eye, seemingly too obsessed with your lips. You drop your gaze to his and find them calling for you. It’s been so long, now the thought of kissing Izuku seems unfamiliar despite being ever-present in your imagination for so many years. Like repeating a word so much it ends up becoming a series of meaningless sounds to your confused mind.

He’s the one who finally closes the distance, his lips landing on yours so softly you can barely feel them. He doesn’t move, simply content with the contact. You’re both eight years old again for a minute. The kiss feels like the little peck a kid would finally give to his crush in the middle of their school’s playground before running away to his friends.

Time seems to stop for God knows how long, and after what feels like no time and forever all at once, his lips move hesitantly against yours, bringing you back to reality. Right then, it all crashes on you like a tremendous wave. The distant echo of your mothers’ voices from the kitchen and the stupid cartoons they made you watch so they could talk for ten more minutes. The games alone together because no one wanted to play with you two weirdos. The piggyback rides, the dumb jokes, the video games (you always won). The neverending texting sessions at night because one of you couldn’t sleep. The fights that never lasted long enough to see the next sunrise because you both are way too weak for each other. All those stupid places that wouldn’t have looked half as breathtaking if it weren’t for him.

His lips are soft but roughly bitten. Hot and wet from the water and maybe from something else. He doesn’t taste like anything other than home, and that’s more than enough for you. His hands went up to cup your face at some point, but you’re too drowned in all the feelings coming up to the surface to pay attention to anything other than his soft mouth pressing on yours, more and more, opening up—

And it’s already over. You only notice that you’ve closed your eyes when you open them again when you don’t feel anything against your mouth other than the summer air. When your mind manages to regain any sense of function, the blurry focus of your gaze settles on his eyes. Wide open. Pupils eating up the dazzling viridian that puts the forest to shame. And a terrified expression in them.

He’s looking at you like he hurt you. His lips should still be on yours, kissing and sucking, not frozen like they are right now, obviously trying to express something painful as a few weak sounds pass their barrier before he finally manages to speak:

“Oh—Oh my God, I-I’m s—”

You don’t let him finish his stupid sentence. You don’t think twice before you take his face in your hands and lean in to kiss him again, with shameless intent this time. No more pretending—you’ve been waiting long enough for this and apparently, so has he.

It’s nothing gentle this time when your mouths crash against each other, teeth clashing and lips bruising under the weight of twenty years. You hold to his face like a lifeline, fingers sinking just a bit into his cheekbones, the tip of your nails getting caught in the knots of his dripping hair just above his ears. It’s messy, your noses rubbing before he angles his face better. One of his hands loops around your waist in a tight grip, forcing your chest to crush against his, the other burying in your hair at the base of your skull.

The feeling is electrifying, indescribable. It’s nothing like the pale, miserable depiction of your imagination. It’s discovering life in color when all you’ve always known was black and white.

The water is cool, but his body scorches against yours, burns your skin in the most exquisite way. The kiss is desperate on both parts, but neither of you is confident. His lips suck on yours with tentative motions, and you respond in kind the best you can. They are hungry, starving for flesh but don’t know how to hunt.

Your hands are gripping more and more of his hair, pulling harder, sending waves of heat all the way down his groin, and he’s not sure he can hide the bulge growing there for much longer.

He has to be sure, he has to be absolutely certain you want this as much as he does, because once he starts, he may not be able to stop. But you feel so good, all pressed against him. Your skin feels so soft under his hand at the small of your back he has to dig his nails in the skin of your waist so he doesn’t cross a line. But the curve just above your ass is begging for him to grip at the tender flesh and squeeze, fill his hands with it. He’s been dreaming about this for so long.

No, he can’t just hurl himself at you like a hunting wolf the first chance he gets—what kind of friend does that?

It takes him every bit of focus he has left to break the kiss, to part away from you. You have to discuss this, he can’t just throw away twenty years of friendship! Now you’re looking up at him with puppy eyes saying, ‘Why won’t you play with me?’ He breathes out a shaky sigh, and begins:

“Um, look. Believe me when I say I’ve wanted this for a very, very long time, and I love you so, so much. As a friend, I mean.” He sees you frown at this, catches a glint of something he doesn’t like in your eyes, then panics. “No, no, no, I mean, a-as a friend, but also more than that, o-obviously. But I don’t know what you want, you might be...d-disappointed, or...um—” His face starts heating up like it hasn’t in ages. He takes another breath, tries to clear up the muddled mess happening in his head. “Look, I just want the best for you, but you look...good, very good, and you’re making things very difficult for me, doing...this—”

“Izuku.” The deafening hubbub filling his mind falls suddenly silent, your voice a comforting, steady rock for him to cling to when his mind is storming out of control.

“Yeah?”

You get even closer to him, since he gradually set some distance while mumbling his anxious thoughts out again. You cup his face in your hands, a gentle, featherlight touch, and look up at him with determination in your eyes. You pull his head down a bit to settle on yours, your foreheads and noses connected, never breaking eye contact. Your lips graze over his, both your breaths mixing there, your voice a quiet whisper as you speak again. “Do you want me?”

Out of the jittery mess of his mind, the answer comes out like evidence, plain and simple: “Yes.”

“Then shut up and kiss me.”

You take action immediately, kissing him once again and this time he doesn’t hesitate to put his—still rather shaky—hands on you. The feeling of you is addicting, pushing his insecurities further in the back of his mind. He starts at your waist, running his thumbs there, feeling the goosebumps rising on your skin. They wander up your spine, counting every single bump of your bones, all the way to your nape. Then dragging them back down to settle on your hips, his fingers digging in the soft flesh. The little sigh you breathe on his lips causes an impressive amount of blood to run straight to his dick.

Your mouth is distracting, dizzying, sucking on his bottom lip, nipping playfully. His tongue slides over your lips, then against your own when you open up immediately for him. You’re pressing against him even more, your breasts rubbing against his naked chest and he swears you’re going to be the death of him. You’re hanging from his shoulders by now, your arms circling his neck, still gripping a handful of green hair, pulling. You have to stop doing this—he might cum right away. He doesn’t say it aloud, only lets a moan escape him into your mouth.

He wanted this, wanted this for so long, and now that it’s real, it’s beyond everything he could have imagined. The heat of your skin, the weight on his shoulders as you cling to him, your breath in his mouth, your little sighs.

He’s only now noticing that his hands have gone to reach their destination with a mind of their own. They’re on your ass underwater, feeling the white, wet lace, the sole cloth on your entire body—that thing is just there to tempt him. He’s unsure if you like what he’s doing until you release a whimper, louder this time, enough to send a vibration against his mouth (and straight to his cock at the same time).

Suddenly, he wants to taste a lot more of you. You’re all open up to him for the first time—he has to. He trails a series of open-mouthed kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jaw, savoring every little sigh escaping your lips, then to your neck, dragging his tongue up the column of your throat.

The water is fresh all over you, and he doesn’t miss the shivers running up and down your skin at the contact of the twilight breeze. He needs to warm you up, needs to make you feel good, needs everything to be perfect for you. With his hands still on your ass, he trails lower down to your collarbone, allowing some occasional nips on the way that have you shaking. He freezes, looking up at you from there.

“Is this okay?”

The answer comes out breathy, a little desperate: “Yes, yes, please!” It sends a wave of heat all over him, the way you like what he’s doing to you, the way he’s making you feel good.

He’s not experienced or anything, only had a few hookups a couple of times, so he’s not very confident in his capacities, aside from running his hands all over you because that’s how his instincts are manifesting. You know him better than anyone—of course you would know how lost he could be in this kind of situation. But he also knows you’re not much more experienced than him, and that thought is comforting.

He’s experienced in one thing, though. He feels like the worst, filthiest person on the planet for this, but it’s astonishing the number of times he jerked off to the thought of what’s happening right now. How many times did he fuck his hand in the shower thinking about the water trickling down your skin, about licking it off your breasts all the way up to your neck.

So he does what he’s been dying to do for years. your breasts are just above the surface, so he sits on his heels and licks down your chest. When his tongue finally reaches your nipple, giving it a tentative lick, you let out a gasp, encouraging him to get bolder. And he does, closing his mouth on it like it’s the sweetest lollipop; it’s all cold and hard and raised from the water, but it warms up really quickly against the furnace of his mouth. His right hand leaves your ass to cup the neglected other, running his thumb against the bud, squeezing the flesh. That’s when you reach out to bury a hand in his hair, and pull again. God, you can pull on his hair all day and night like this; he’ll never get enough.

His left hand, still on your ass, rises up to the small of your back, feeling you arching more and more, pushing against his mouth. A harder nip has you gasping and he lets his hands run all over you, wandering without direction. It’s messy and urgent; he can’t help it—you feel so good, so soft under his hands. He’s like a kid getting to open his Christmas gifts in the morning after an endless, sleepless night waiting for Santa.

You trail your hand down his chest and his abdomen, a gentle reminder that the power he holds right now could slip through his fingers any moment. He’s willing to give it to you, especially since he doesn’t really know what to do next.

Like you just read his mind, you take his hands in yours, stopping their chaotic race. He’s feeling himself flush a bit—was he going too fast for you? Did he scare you? Or did he just let himself become overwhelmed by his feelings and it didn’t feel good for you? His eyes are looking down directly at your naked chest, he realizes he never took a proper look at them, too busy throwing himself to taste them. They look just as good as they taste, as beautiful as the rest of you.

Tentatively, he raises his eyes to find your reassuring gaze and fond smile. You lead his hands down slowly, setting them on your hips, over the criminal lace fabric preserving your modesty. Your foreheads connect again, but you never break eye contact. Lacing your fingers together, you guide his thumbs into the elastic on both sides, and now that he gets what you’re trying to do, his mind just stops.

Your voice is barely a whisper, a mesmerizing caress on his lips when you speak again. “I think I’ve waited long enough, Zuku.”

Your tone is fond, but you sound so desperate, it’s unbearably cute. His mind fogs up, the smoke of your words filling his skull and he wants to drive you as mad as you drive him. Sure, you’ve waited a lot, but so has he. He isn’t going to rush this, not if he has any say in it.

He slides your panties down your thighs underwater inch by inch. It’s even too slow for him; right now he just wants to rip the stupid piece of lace off of you and fuck you and him both stupid in the water, hard and fast. But even more than that, he wants to take his time with you, wants to take you apart piece by piece. And the testy whine it elicits from you makes it all so worth it.

You shift a bit so he can take your underwear completely off and, in a second, it lays abandoned on the sandy ground of the shore. Just knowing you’re now completely naked in front of him, it sends boiling desire flowing through every single vein in his body. He can’t see that part of you yet, the water darkening along with the sky clouding his view beneath the surface, but nightfall can’t do anything about Izuku’s wild imagination. He’s dizzy, feeling himself slowly falling into a half-conscious daze, but you anchor him right where you are, bringing him back to the reality of your arms hooked around his neck.

He rests his hands on your hips, dragging his fingertips down the soft flesh of them. The idea of touching you down there is making his head spin, he can’t wait any longer.

“Can I—”

“Yes, I want your fingers inside me,” you say before driving your lips back against his.

Without further ado, one of them goes straight to your core, making you jump a bit, breaking the kiss just for a second. He runs his index between your folds, feeling hot slick already coming out of you despite the fresh water around. His touch is light, slow, hesitant as it glides up and down, testing the waters. He’s getting a bit further, putting a bit more pressure with every stroke and earning a few pleased sighs from your heavenly mouth.

He expected a sudden reaction as soon as he found your clit, but that doesn’t mean he was prepared for the drawn-out moan coming out of your gorgeous lips, wet from his mouth and from your dip earlier. He wants to hear that again, every day for the rest of his life. He drags his thumb over it, again and again, slow at first, but then quicker and quicker, and your voice grows louder with every speed-up of his finger.

Your hands go frantic over him, running up his chest and down his abs in repeated motions that feel a lot like it’s lust driving your limbs much more than your mind. You stopped kissing him at some point, your mouth too busy expressing every ounce of pleasure you felt to focus on such basic motions. Your face is buried in his neck, your hot breath crushing against his skin.

He presses his index inside, but he’s so focused on what he’s doing, trying not to hurt you, that he doesn’t notice the shift of your own hand leaning down until he feels it cupping the painful bulge in his boxers. His eyes go wide with a gasp, and when he looks at you, you already have a playful, but intense, gaze piercing right through him.

“Did you think I was gonna let you play all on your own, Zuku?” Your fingers graze over the soaked fabric, down his entire length and to his balls, throwing gasoline on the fire that’s been consuming him for ages. “Don’t be selfish,” you whisper directly in his ear as your hands slip his underwear down his thighs.

As soon as the piece of cloth gets to join your forgotten panties on the shore, you wrap your pretty hand around him. And when you start stroking, his eyes roll so hard he swears he can see the inside of his skull. It feels better than he ever could have imagined; it’s blistering, astonishing. The only idea his brain can manage to work out right now is that he wants you to feel just as good.

He only notices now that his fingers stopped moving, and they go right back to a steady pace, but it’s a matter of seconds before he drives another finger into you. Soon, you’re both fucking the life out of each other with your hands. You’re sucking and nipping at his ear, and every single moan he draws out of you ends up turning against him, breaking into the defenses he built year after year by your side. He’s simply fucking into your hand now. He can’t help it, you feel so good. He doesn’t even want to think about what it’s going to feel like to fuck into your tight little cunt, he might cum hard just from the thought of it.

The spongy spot he finds inside you feels like he just struck gold. It’s glorious, the sounds you make right now, higher, louder. You’re tightening around his fingers, but it’s okay—you can crush them for all he cares. He wants you to moan higher for him, wants you to keep riding his fingers like your life depends on it.

“Izuku, ah—I’m close, I’m so close, please…”

“I got you, baby. I got you, shit—”

He quickens the pace again, feels like his fingers are gonna fall off his hand the moment he gets them out of you, but fuck, what his princess wants, his princess is gonna get. Your orgasms shatter the both of you to pieces, and in the bliss of his high, he can hear some birds flying away, scared by the harmonious, but probably very loud, song of your combined moans.

While his cum strikes out by ropes into the water, his clouded mind can only think about one thing.

He needs more of you.

You can barely stand on your knees, worn out from cumming the hardest you have in your entire life. You actually have to lean on Izuku so you don’t fall into the water head first like some boneless ragdoll. You just let your forehead rest on his shoulder and count the freckles there, splattered in a fascinating work of abstraction.

But apparently, he has other plans. You’re swiftly lifted up and out of the water, huge scarred hands firmly holding the back of your thighs that immediately come to circle his waist.

“Oh, nice. I don’t mind getting carried around like a baby. Where are we going?”

“Not far,” he says with a little grin, walking out of the water. “Do you think you’ll be able to walk?” His voice holds a sarcastic tone, one you’re not used to hearing out of Izuku’s angel mouth.

“I think I can manage, yeah.”

He drops you to stand on your legs, and immediately goes for his backpack. The sun has just set, its last rays of light filling the pink sky over your heads. You can still easily make out everything around you, and Izuku’s body is no exception.

You’re watching him with a raised eyebrow, letting your shameless gaze follow every curve you couldn’t see underwater. The day he started exercising in high school was the day you knew it was over for you. It was the day you couldn’t deny what you felt anymore, you couldn’t deny your best friend was everything you needed, and everything you wished for. The physical factor was only a—very pleasant— addition to the list of things that made you fall hard for Izuku Midoriya.

Your eyes linger over his impressive figure, staring at the dimples at the small of his back. You always knew they were here, but you never allowed yourself to look at them, to imagine how they would grow repeatedly hollow with every thrust of his hips into you.

He finally digs out what he was looking for: a plaid picnic blanket, because of course he would have one in there. He’s wearing a little victorious smile when he stands and turns around to spread it on a grassy spot that looks a lot more comfortable than the hard ground. He turns back to you but averts his gaze to the side, hardly looking directly at you for more than a second at a time. The heat of his gaze tracing your curves through quick glances pools deep in your core.

“You know you can look, right?” You sure aren’t refraining from doing so after all.

His face reaches its usual redness—hasn’t he learned anything from making you cum like crazy with just his fingers? It’s cute nonetheless; Izuku will never change.

He doesn’t answer your rhetorical question, only gives you a shy command in that tentative, very cute voice of his.

“Could you lay down on this for me?”

You saw this coming, but still, you’re a bit surprised he’s asking you that out loud. You gladly oblige with your legs pressed together, slightly bent. It’s another golden opportunity to tease him a bit:. “This isn’t exactly the right use for this blanket. Aren’t we supposed to eat on this?”

He smiles at the ground while kneeling at your feet.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I’m planning to do.”

Your sly smile fades away. His tone is a contradictory mix of shyness and determination, so it’s a bit confusing but also unbearably hot—you swear an astounding wave of heat is crashing through your deepest parts, untouched, just from some words and a funny tone. You rub your thighs together before he grabs and parts them to slip himself between them.

He crawls over you and leans down to kiss you, a bit more confident than earlier. His hips are pressing between your legs, where you can feel his hardness best.

He’s rutting more and more against you as the kiss intensifies. You could think it’d be a lot less exciting now that you know he’s going to eat you out, there’d be no suspense. Wrong. The little shit apparently likes to tease you to death, because he left your lips to kiss your face, nip at your neck, suck at your ears. Dragging his devilish hands everywhere, pressing harder each time you get louder. An especially heavy whine makes him buck hard, his mouth back against yours.

“The more impatient you get, the slower it’s gonna be,” he murmurs against your lips, and starts to make his way down to where you want him, kissing every inch of you, clouding your mind with desire. It’s way too much and still not enough; it’s maddening. When he finally reaches down, you’re on the verge of a second orgasm like you hadn’t just come down a few minutes ago.

He’s holding your thighs apart in a firm grip. Just the touch of his fingers burns your skin deliciously, and the look he’s giving you from between your legs...his eyes are clouded, half-lidded, looking at the part of you he’s never gotten to see before. It feels like he’s been looking forever and just a second at the same time.

He finally dips into you, leaving butterfly kisses all over your inner thighs, punctuated by little nips, nuzzling the soft skin. He’s not looking you in the eye anymore, his gaze lingering all over your body—all over except for your face. You can make out a slight blush on his cheeks despite the dimness all around. You know him better than anyone, so you immediately recognize what’s going on in his mind just from the slightest hint in his eyes. He looks like he’s fighting a battle against himself, his shyness against his hunger. And you know who you’re both rooting for.

He finally gives in, and it takes your breath away. A single, slight lick on your clit and you’re gone. And the next ones, more and more intense, more and more hungry, push you further to tumble over your edge. He grunts into your heat, multiple times. Moans like he’s the one squirming under your mouth.

His hands hold a firm grip on your hips, squeezing the flesh and keeping you in place—he doesn’t even give you an inch to move. You can only take and take and take. But you still have the luxury of your free hands, and they rush to bury in the knots of his messy wet curls, your nails dragging, scratching his scalp.

His lips close on your clit and suck just a bit, and before you can refrain, you pull on his hair, hard. He gasps, and the moment you think you hurt him, he breathes his loudest moan, right into you. You’re filled with the vibrations—they spread all over your body, have you throwing your head back, trembling from head to toe.

The louder you are, the hungrier he gets, filling you with his insatiable tongue. You have to look at him right now. And you expected quite a show, but you certainly weren't prepared to see this—him rutting against the ground like an animal. You realize he’s getting off just from your taste, just from eating you out. His hips roll repeatedly, making you salivate just to the thought of those same hips bucking into yours, fucking you into oblivion. And the more he ruts, the louder he gets.

Now if he wants to moan, you’re going to give him a good reason to.

You hint for him to face you with a light tug on his hair. As soon as he’s back up, he dives in to kiss you. You don’t let him. In a second he’s on his back with you seated on his hips.

“What did I say about letting you play on your own, hm?”

The ‘deer caught in headlights’ look is so cute on him. And the rest is a marvel to look at. You’re straddling him and he has no other choice than to let you devour him with your eyes—not that he couldn’t bounce you off of him with just a thrust of his hips, but he already would have if he wanted to. You let your gaze wander mindlessly over him—it’s surreal. There’s no way he’s actually under you, waiting for you to please him back with his mouth and jaw still shining with your juices. It has to be a dream—it’s always been after all.

You shift so you’re straddling his parted thighs. You can finally take a look at him. The whole thing, that is. His cock is resting against his lower stomach, hard and swollen and thick. It’s a pretty, bright pink, shining with pre-cum at the tip. Your mouth waters just at the sight of it.

He’s looking down at you, his face as flushed as his dick, that usual blush still exquisitely coating his freckles. You take him in your hand, dive in to give a lick to the tip and his head falls back down with a whimper. You let your tongue drag over the whole length on the underside, and your lips close around the tip in a wet smooch. His hips jerk up a bit, startling you.

You finally take him whole in your mouth, and you can feel his whole body tensing under you. You start bobbing up and down, going a bit further each time, earning a series of shameless moans because this boy is loud. You expected him to express himself during sex since he’s such a mumbler—and frankly, it was always one of your biggest fantasies, hearing him come undone because of you, lose any sense of shame and self-restriction when he’s such a anxious person otherwise.

But you could’ve thought about it every night and day and still never be ready for this. It’s sinful. His hand goes to grab your hair just like you did to him, and now you get why he liked it so much. The feel of his nails scratching your scalp is electrifying, soothing and destructive at the same time.

Your tongue hits a precise spot just under the tip and he jerks up again, nearly screams, “Fuck—yes, right there, please—d-do that again!”

And you do, you can only oblige—he asked so nicely. Your lips go up and down, over and over, your tongue grazing this spot with a bit more pressure every single time. You squint over him, and what you find there is a mess. Trying so hard not to buck into your mouth but failing miserably. Sounding like he’s at Heaven’s gate.

“Easy, Zuku. You’re gonna scare the birds away,” you chuckle against him, your lips brushing the tip, dripping with your saliva and pre-cum.

“Do I need to remind you…how loud you were for me earlier?” He’s looking back down at you as he speaks, a tremble in his voice telltale of his approaching climax. “You sounded...so good, baby, I swear...wanna hear you again, wanna make you scream, just for me, fuck—”

You can feel yourself soaking the blanket, can feel the slick trickle down your folds and stain the plaid cotton. Is he aware of what he’s doing? Or is he just saying whatever is going through his chaotic mind? In any case it has you starving. So you let go of his cock and, before he can protest, crawl back to his face and kiss him desperately. Tasting both of your fluids in a mindblowing mix.

You pull back just enough to be able to speak, because you need him to understand you loud and clear when you say: “Please, Izuku, I need you inside me, I’ve waited so long. Please.”

“Okay, okay, fuck—” He cuts himself off, his eyes slightly drooping like a sad puppy. “I-I don’t have any condoms.”

“You mean you probably have pads in there for me but no condoms?” you say with your eyebrows raised, your mocking tone hinting at a teasing remark, far from criticism.

He frowns in confusion. “How do you know I have pads in there?”

“So the legend turns out to be true. After all these years—”

“Shut up, you’re impossible,” he chuckles heatlessly, resting his hands on your back.

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill,” you assure him with a soft tone.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m on the pill, yeah.”

He rolls his eyes, then clarifies, a hint of hesitation clear in his voice.

“No I mean...you’re sure you wanna do this?” He marks a brief pause, takes a short breath. “With me?”

You don’t even think before answering, it slips your mouth like it’s not even your own words: “I don’t want it with anyone else.”

There’s a silence.

“Fuck, that sounds cheesy,” you scoff, looking away.

“It does, but we’re both cheesy idiots, apparently.”

You look back at him. His smile is so fond, so loving; it melts your heart in the best way.

“I wanna be your cheesy idiot,” you say against his mouth, looking right into his eyes, willing to fall in them.

“You always have been,” he nearly whispers. It fills your stomach with familiar warmth, intense and overwhelming, comforting.

There’s a bittersweet taste in your mouth, one of regret and lost time and God, we’re idiots.

Now it’s about time you make up for it all.

You look down at him, rolling your hips against him, dripping all over his cock, coating him in your juices.

“I think I asked you something, didn’t I?”

A whimper escapes him at the feeling. His hips buck up slightly, hands gripping at your back. When you do it again, you don’t get the chance to see his reaction; you’re on your back again, him towering over you, his thigh between your legs.

He’s looking at you with something in his eyes you don’t recognize, but the tone he speaks with has your entire body quaking.

“And you’re gonna get it, sweetheart.”

He holds himself over his left forearm, his hand thumbing at your cheek while the other strokes the whole length of your thigh. Your noses are brushing, your breaths crashing together. Your hands hold tight to his nape, playing with the short hair mindlessly as you’re waiting to be filled, finally.

You feel the stretch instantly. You try to focus on those mesmerizing emerald gems he calls eyes. They look right through your soul, eating you up and you barely feel the pain. He’s taking it slow, inch by inch, giving you all the time you need, caressing your cheek with a tender stroke of his thumb.

“Relax for me, baby.”

Izuku’s voice is a soothing sound over the incessant chirping of the grasshoppers. It was always one of your favorite things to hear, its every tone another blessing to your ears. It’s loving when he asks if you’re okay, comforting when he whispers sweet nothings to you as you cry on his shoulder, heartening when he’s going on about anything he’s passionate about.

He’s kissing every part of skin he has access to, over your face, your jaw, your neck. You feel yourself relaxing around him, and roll your hips up to give him the hint.

When he starts moving it’s still slow and careful. He doesn’t break eye contact, so you can see his every reaction, and he can see all yours. His hand is still playing with your hair, even as his pace speeds up with every second. The weight of him over you feels amazing, it holds him close against you, countless parts of you both rubbing together: your chests, your stomachs, your thighs. He doesn’t even have a lot of space to move. But getting to touch and get touched by him like this, it's incredible. You always had him so close to you, always right there and still so out of reach.

You still need more; you’re insatiable. You need to see him come undone under you, because of you. You push him to roll on his back, and you end up straddling him, setting the pace yourself. You start bouncing up and down on his cock, taking balance on the hard planes of his abs. He immediately reaches up to grab your hips, guiding you along.

His face tenses up, frowning, his nose wrinkling, his lips parted just to let out a series of breathy sighs. He looks wrecked and dizzy and stunning. He’s keeping his eyes open, fixed up on you, specifically on your breasts, bouncing with your every motion. And you can feel his gaze on your skin just as much as you feel his hands gripping harder at the flesh below your hips.

“Eyes up here, Zuku,” you coo with two fingers pointed at your eyes.

He doesn’t answer, only sits up easily and wraps his arms around your waist.

“You look so amazing, you have no idea what you do to me,” he says with a trembling voice, filled with bliss.

Your heart misses a beat at his words, they fill you with warmth and comfort because he definitely doesn’t have any idea what he’s doing to you. He delves his face into your neck, kissing and nuzzling, his breath coming shorter and shorter, crashing against your skin and his hands running all over you. The sound of his hoarse voice resonates through the forest and through your soul, echoing an enchanting song.

With little effort, he puts you back under him so he can pound into you with full force, and your legs immediately come up to wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper. Your hands grab his hair, tugging to see if you get the same reaction as earlier, and it doesn’t miss: he lets out a groan right into your ear, speeding up his pace again.

The sky is dark now, and all you can hear are his moans and yours and the slap of your hips coming together repeatedly. Your head is thrown back when he grabs you by the hair, forcing you to turn your head and face him.

“Look at me. I wanna see you.”

“Izuku, I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby. Let go for me, come on.”

Just the feel of his hand trailing down your stomach awakens something in you, this familiar pressure growing tight in your belly. And when his fingers reach your clit, a couple of strokes are enough to have you screaming his name, tightening around him, and pulling him towards his climax with you. His thrusts come franticly as you milk him dry, clawing desperately at his back, panting in his mouth as he leaned down to kiss you through both your climaxes.

As soon as he comes down, he rolls over on his side, still laying close to you, an arm thrown over you. You both take a minute to catch your breaths and, weirdly enough, you don’t hear anything aside from your panting. You really must have scared the birds away. Izuku breaks the silence first.

“Do you wanna...sleep at my place?”

He’s looking over at you and, despite the sky getting dark, you can easily imagine the blush coating his cheeks right now, like he didn’t make you scream his name, drunk on his cock two minutes ago.

You can’t repress your fond smile at his proposition.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

You take a minute to gather your clothes from all over the place and get dressed, then grab your bag to tug it over your shoulder.

“You got everything?”

Izuku is waiting for you just outside the trees. You take a quick look around, making sure you haven’t forgotten anything, and turn around without a second look at the place.

Because although it was your first time setting foot here, it definitely won’t be the last; you will come back here with Izuku every chance you get, making it your shared secret, your own little wonderland.

You gladly take the hand he’s offering, making him blush a little harder, and you head straight back into the forest together.

You walk side by side as a comfortable silence settles, only disturbed by the grasshoppers’ incessant, boisterous chirping. The sky is utterly dark now, you can make out a few stars shining above the dense trees. You walk at a steady pace, but Izuku is going a bit faster with every step. Soon enough, he’s walking a bit ahead of you, still holding your hand. Another golden occasion to tease his eagerness.

“Are we in a hurry, Zuku?”

In the dark of the night, you struggle to make out the look on his face as he turns around to look at you. A second later, he’s running, and with your hand firmly held in his, you can’t do much but try to follow along. You giggle as you run, and it quickly grows into a belly-deep laughter. He’s fast, doesn’t get tired, but you follow him anyway, probably as eager as he is. You have to zig-zag so you don’t run straight into the massive trees standing in your way.

You get to the car in no time, but you’re both out of breath when you finally get in your respective seats, ready to go home.

Izuku doesn’t even wait to catch his breath before he starts the car, the engine roaring loudly in the silence of the night, probably scaring the birds away for the upteenth time that night. You catch his happy grin in the headlights glow before he heads back into the road.

You have a feeling the night is not over; you’ve only got twenty years to make up for after all.

#bnha smut #deku smut #deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya smut #mha smut #there it is omg it's long af #weasel writes

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ao3bronte · 3 years

Text

☯🐍LUKADRIEN HEADCANONS🐍☯

It all started when Luka got his first tattoo. Juleka livestreamed it on Instagram and Adrien watched as much as he could of it while in the back of Father’s Mercedes, purposely ignoring Nathalie’s pointed stare. No doubt she would tell Father he was watching videos of his friends “partaking in delinquent behaviour”, but Adrien couldn’t blame her. It was her job, after all.

That aside, Adrien found himself both entranced and horrified as the artist carefully outlined the shape of a serpent in black ink up and down Luka’s right forearm, wiping away the excess ink before starting anew. It must hurt like hell, but Luka talked through it easily, humming a melody he’d been writing with his sister like the needle in his arm was hardly a bother.

Even after he’d been rushed out of the Mercedes and onto the runway, Adrien couldn’t stop thinking about it. How calm and collected Luka had been. How intricate the scales of the onyx snake had been against the paleness of his skin. How the tattoo would look after a few days of healing.

Adrien desperately wanted to find out. And thankfully, a week or so later, he got his chance.

“Dude, you gotta show Adrien. He’s been dying to see it, bro!” Nino calls out from beside him, waving Luka over from where he’d just parked his bike. Marinette had organized a collège graduation picnic and thankfully, the invitation that she’d sent home with Adrien had “mandatory for class attendance” printed on it in big, red letters.

“Yes, please!” Adrien responds, practically skipping in place as Luka saunters over and stretches out his hand. Adrien’s eyes grow wide as he takes in the snake’s coils that twist from his elbow to his wrist. The pattern on the snake’s scales is so familiar that Adrien is sure he’s seen this type of snake before, from the hood of its neck to its elongated fangs.

“Did it hurt?” Alix asks, buzzing with excitement. She’d already proudly announced that she’s booked her first tattoo for her upcoming sixteenth birthday next week.

“A little.” Luka shrugs, smiling downwards as Adrien forgets all of his manners and gently turns Luka’s arm around so he can see the other side. “The elbow was the worst part. Once he got away from the bone, it wasn’t so bad at all.”

“It looks so cool,” Adrien gushes, unable to contain himself. His nose is practically centimetres away from Luka’s skin so as to soak in every little detail. “I wish I could get something like this done.”

Luka continues to indulge him, despite Alix’s teasing glance in their direction. “What’s stopping you?”

Adrien snorts and stares in wonder at the snake’s slitted eyes. “Father. He’d kill me if I ever got a tattoo.”

“I doubt he’d kill his best model,” Luka responds, smiling as Adrien shakes his head and prods the little tongue of the serpent with the tip of his finger.

“Well, maybe not kill me. But he’d lock me away in my room until I was thirty five.”

“Dude, that’s abusive,” Nino says. Beside him, Alix agrees.

“It’s Father’s way of showing me he cares.” Adrien sighs and thanks Luka for letting him see the tattoo. Luka assures him that he can look at it anytime he wants.

And, of course, that’s how the plan begins.

Six months pass and Luka and Adrien are closer than they’ve ever been, thanks in part to Juleka’s burgeoning modelling career. They cross paths frequently, which means he sees Luka almost as much and begins to spend his free time with him whenever he can under the pretense of practicing his angles with Juleka and his piano skills with Luka.

Nathalie has given him exactly four hours of free time at the Couffaine’s on his day off, so long as the Gorilla is present to make sure he doesn’t “partake in any delinquent behaviour”. Adrien is an expert at eluding the massive hulk of a man and within minutes of arriving, Adrien, Luka and Juleka are meeting up with Rose, Nino and Alix for what would be the wildest, best kept secret plan in the world.

Why? Because Adrien was getting a tattoo. A tiny one. Very discreet. But a symbol of defiance and teenage rebellion nonetheless.

The whole ragtag group piles into the same studio that Luka and Alix had gotten their tattoos. White walls reflect the bright pink neon sign that takes up the majority of the side wall, adding an ambiance that simmers with excitement as house music thuds through the speakers. Adrien signs his life away with shaking fingers and gives his friends a thumbs up before sitting down on the leather lounger. Luka follows him into the smaller workspace and distracts Adrien by talking about the merits of the 5/4 time signature as the artist carefully sterilizes his equipment and applies a stencil onto the pale strip of skin just inside the swell of his hip bone. Adrien had picked this part of his body specifically; even in swimming briefs, no one would be able to see it. He would have to be completely bare in order for anyone to accidentally spot the tattoo, which makes it the perfect location for a clandestine symbol of his secret life.

The machine buzzes to life and Adrien prepares himself, gritting his teeth.

“Why did you pick this for your first tattoo?” Luka asks, wincing as Adrien grabs his hand and squeezes the life out of it. Adrien has been tossed around the city like a ragdoll countless times as Chat Noir, but this? This is the worst pain he’s ever experienced by far.

“Ghhh—oh my god.” Adrien heaves and tries to keep still as the artist completes the outline of the circle.

“Just breathe.” Luka begins to massage his arm with his other hand, rubbing smooth circles into Adrien’s tensed muscles. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

Adrien garbles something unintelligible and lets his head fall back against the headrest with a thunk. “How...did...you...?”

“I just did.” Luka shrugs and smiles encouragingly. “You get used to the feeling after a while.”

“I am never getting used to this.” Adrien groans vehemently, pushing the words from his lips in one shaky breath. Luka isn’t wrong though; after a minute or two of trying not to cry like an infant, Adrien’s hip hurts so badly that the pain begins to plateau into a five alarm burning bee sting. “Is it almost over?”

“He’s just finishing the spot,” Luka replies, leaning over to get a better look. Adrien opens his eyes, which is a horrible mistake. Between Luka’s constant presence beside him and his friend’s face mere centimetres from his belly button, Adrien finally thinks of something else that cuts through the haze.

“Y-yeah?” Adrien stammers and hopes Luka thinks it’s still from the pain. In actuality, the last six months of Adrien’s infatuation with Luka’s tattoo and, in turn, Luka himself has all flashed before his eyes in a matter of seconds.

“All finished,” the artist says, taking one last swipe with his towel before putting his tools away. Luka beams and congratulates him on being so brave, but all Adrien can think about is how his friend’s ample praise makes him melt like butter.

“Do you want to see?” Luka takes the mirror and holds it up to the tattoo. Red and raw, the yin and yang symbol shines like a beacon of Adrien’s duality. He’s the hero of destruction to Ladybug’s creation; he’s a flawless model with a secret dark side.

“I love it,” Adrien breathes, the immediate pain already fading. The artist dresses the wound and Adrien listens to the aftercare instructions with half an ear — he’s far too busy committing the experience to memory.

If Luka wants his hand back, he doesn’t ask, even as they exit the room together. Adrien’s too lost in the clouds to even realize, but the rest of his friends aren’t. They’ll tease Luka about it later, but the blue haired boy doesn’t seem to care.

A week later, Adrien proudly shows off his secret tattoo to his secret tattoo posse — he can’t risk anyone else knowing about it in case it gets leaked to the press — and beams when Luka tells him it looks beautiful.

He doesn’t tell Adrien he wasn’t talking about the tattoo.

SEE ALL OF MY LGBTQ+ HEADCANONS HERE!

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous pride #lukadrien #luka couffaine #vipernoir #adrien agreste #ml

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jungcity · 4 years

Text

STRIPPED. | jaehyun

tw: languages, jealousy, unprotected sex, degradation(?), dom!jaehyun, edging, oral sex (m), cum-eating, creampie, overstim

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader

wc: 2657

note: crossed-posted this on my haikyuu blog as an ushijima fic. i hope you enjoy this in the jaehyun-narrative, though.

Having Jaehyun alone, inside an elevator, would’ve been exciting if not for your current situation. He stood beside you, prim and proper as always. His pristine tuxedo unruffled despite the whole day of attending meetings, signing papers, and talking to his business partners.

This was suffocating. You needed to at least say something before the atmosphere would rip your to shreds. Trying to shake the crippling aura away, you cleared your throat and opened your mouth to speak.

But before you could do exactly that, Jaehyun spoke. “Shut it, Y/N.” Further proving his indifference, he remained staring at his reflection inside the elevator.

You bit your lower lip to suppress a retort. Talking back would only add to your agony. Besides, you could feel Jaehyun’s mood in the air. It would be a bad move to taunt him.

However, you definitely weren’t the one to back down either. So you tilted your head up, straightened your back, and said, “Well, look at you now, attempting to conquer yourself yet again.”

Jaehyun’s delicious and virile chuckle echoed suddenly. The kind of laugh that has never failed to stir your stomach with its sound. You would’ve swoon if not for the edge that had come with it.

“Ah,” he moaned. “Your guts really does turns me on, Y/N,” he added, shaking his head lightly. “Let’s see how far that attitude could go, though.” After he spoke the words, the elevator door tinged.

Jaehyun adjusted his necktie before stepping out. He didn’t need to see if you’d follow him. It was just an instinct, an assurance.

His words might’ve shaken your knees lightly, but you won’t crumble because of him. Jaehyun always liked the fight, though. And you did, too. It was the dynamic of your relationship: the audacity of each other.

Doing your best to look confident, you puffed your chest and walked behind him. Heels clicking against the tiled floor.

When his penthouse door opened, that was when he finally looked at you. He looked like the devil himself, trying to lure you into hell. And because not even the devil could scare you away, you stepped inside.

Jaehyun walked straight to his bar counter and poured himself some hard liquor. While you unbutton your blazer and throw it onto the sofa. You could feel his eyes piercing your body with every move, therefore feeding the audacity you have.

“Tell me why, Y/N,” he finally spoke.

You chuckled, irating him even more. “What are you talking about?”

The sound of liquor pouring in the glass echoed through the silence. “Tell me why you kissed him.”

All the blood drained from your face. His voice was raw, his emotions rolling off his tongue. A mixture of curiosity, hurt, and punishment. “I... I don’t know.”

Jaehyun hummed. “Now, now, you don’t need to be discreet,” he said with his taunting yet luscious tone. “It’s just you and me here. No one’s gonna hear us.”

You hated to admit it, but you knew exactly that no matter how brave you made yourself to be in front of him, you’d always falter once he’d used that voice to you. “I really don’t know, Jeong,” you breathed.

Jaehyun downed the contents of his glass. He laid the glass flat on the counter. Then he started to unbuckle his necktie while looking at you. “Alright, then. Take your clothes off. Leave the heels on.”

Without thinking twice, you unbutton your shirt. You needed to make him feel good. Anything. Just to say how sorry you were for this night.

The cool air grazes your breasts as you unhooked your bra. You removed your skirt next, exposing your sex for Jaehyun to see.

When you were finally naked, Jaehyun walked towards you. His proximity made you want him all over your body. You needed him to touch you. So bad that you tried to close the gap between the both of you, but Jaehyun lifted a hand to cup your chin harshly.

You gasped. He smiled. “Tell me why.”

“It... it was a mistake.”

His thumb grazed your lips. By the friction, your body screamed. Driving the pulsating of your sex mad. “Was it a mistake if you’re halfway through each other’s throats when I saw you, Y/N?”

“Jae—”

“He’s had his lips on you. Did it feel good?”

You tried to shake your head, but his grip was firm. “No, of course not.”

“Did you think of him fucking you?”

“Jae!” you cried in both astonishment and embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

He seemed unfazed by your emotions. Jaehyun inserted his thumb inside your mouth. You knew what to do. You sucked his thumb like you were sucking his cock.

“Would you suck his cock like that?”

You abruptly stopped, surprised by the question. He knew what the answer was. And yet...

You swallowed. “No, Jae.”

A smirk ghosted his lips. “Whose cock you’d want to fuck you? Whose cock you’d want to suck off?”

“Yours!” you replied almost immediately. The immense need to have his hands around your body was so intense you felt like crying. It didn’t help that your sex was aching for attention and seemed like he won’t succumb to it.

Jaehyun placed his hand on the top of your head. “Prove it, then.”

Greedily, you unbuckled his belt, refusing to look away. Both of you held each other’s eyes while you tugged his undergarments down to reveal his beautiful cock.

Jaehyun sank to the couch, eyes never leaving yours. You went on your knees, wrapping your hand around his thick cock. Then it was on your mouth. You moaned, tasting his warmth and the little saltiness of his skin. Jaehyun watched you as you licked the bottom of his cock to the tip. But there was no emotions on his face. Your heart dropped. He was usually the silent kind of guy, but whenever you were behind closed doors, Jaehyun never stopped himself from eliciting sounds.

You sucked his cock again, and reached for his groins. Jaehyun made a sound through his teeth. He was unmistakably holding himself back.

Moans of apology vibrated on your mouth as you deepthroated him yet again. Then you fisted half of his cock, milking him while licking the tip. His thighs jerked in the slightest, then his ragged breaths could be heard inside the penthouse. By the sounds, you double-fisted him while sucking half his cock. You did just like that until a thick spurt of semen exploded in your mouth.

You moaned once more, trying your hardest to swallow the semen that was starting to pool inside your mouth. Jaehyun kept cumming, thus spilling some of his warm liquid down the length of his cock.

Ignoring the spilled semen, you started to bob your head up and down again. But his firm hands held your shoulders. You looked up to meet his eyes. Jaehyun stared at you, his face aloof.

“Are you wet?” he asked, voice cool and dangerous.

“I am,” you admitted.

“Sucking my cock really turns you on.” He leaned back down the sofa. His cock still hard, veins bulging. “Slide that little cunt around me.”

Your nipples perked by the crudeness. And you were quick to straddle his lap, your knees on either side of his hips. Lining your entrance to his pretty, and achingly thick cock, you sank down. But Jaehyun held your waists all of a sudden. You looked at him, frowning.

“Why, Y/N?”

Feeling as if you were going to snap anytime soon, you closed your eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Then I don’t think this cock is for you,” he replied, detachment clear in his voice.

You bit back a sob. Fuck him. But you couldn’t just let go. Your body has been screaming for him to fill you, to fuck you, to stretch you. “Jaehyun, please.”

Half of his face was obscured from light, while the half was lit by the single light from the hallway. Jaehyun’s eyes glinted darkness, then his sturdy grip on your waists loosened. “Ride this cock, nice and slow,” he whispered, the air from his mouth leaving goosebumps on your bare collarbone down your spine.

You sank your sex deep down his cock. The impact made you grip the headrest of the sofa. Jaehyun breathed through his teeth. He felt it too. The way his cock stretched your insides deliciously. The way you exactly fit each other.

He was stoic, despite the sweat coating his forehead. Instead of feeling dejected, you pulled yourself up and forcefully sank down. Buttocks hitting his lap.

Through gritted teeth, Jaehyun cursed, “Goddamn.”

You moaned by the friction of your wet sex sliding up and down his thick cock. Jaehyun tried to meet your every move by moving his hips, therefore hitting the soft spot inside you. It was painful to bob your body up and down, but you won’t stop l. Not until his façade crumbles down and he’s wanting every inch of you.

You won’t stop riding his cock until Jaehyun is a mess underneath you. He deserved it, nevertheless. Let your body say the apologies of your mistakes tonight.

His hands were comfortably holding your waists, allowing you to do the deed of fucking your brains out together. Jaehyun licked his lips. “Tell me why you kissed him.”

You bit your lower lip out of frustration. He won’t let it slide, would he? Having no idea how you could feel different emotions all at the same time, you tried to ignore his question. But Jaehyun held you in a viselike grip again, halting your movements unexpectedly, painfully.

With your brows furrowed, you tried to move again, just to feel him. However, he brought your hands behind you, held them firmly with his large ones. His cock was buried inside you, reaching for places you didn’t know was possible to reach. Hell, at this point, his cock would surely penetrate your intestines.

“Why?” His voice was raspy and menacing. He was using this against you.

Out of your exasperation, you cried, “I don’t know! I swear!” It was a drunken mistake, commixed with Jaehyun’s ex arriving at town. It didn’t help that they were unfortunately business partners. All week he’s with her. You were a woman, jealousy was something you didn’t know existed until Jaehyun came into your life.

Jaehyun chuckled once more, the sound were dark and brooding. “Are you thinking of him fucking you right now?”

“No! Of course not!” How could he ask that? Tears brimmed in the back of your eyes. This is getting tiring. You wriggled your body but Jaehyun buried himself deeper, eliciting a gasp from your lips. The friction of your sex to his cock was both pleasureable and painful. He was stretching you, balls deep. “Jaehyun, please!”

Bodies slicked and coated in perspiration, Jaehyun leaned back, freeing you. You collapsed on the crook of his neck, feeling as if all your energy has been sucked out of you.

“You wanna stop? You know what to say,” he taunted.

God, you wish you knew how to. However, you knew you couldn’t. No matter how filthy his mouth could get, you won’t taste defeat. So you pulled yourself up. He won’t hear the safe word tonight.

“Damn you,” you exhaled.

With one swift movement, Jaehyun was out of you. Then he supported your body as he bent you over the sofa, your breasts making friction against the head rest.

“Jae— ah!” You moaned as he slammed his cock back inside your wet sex. Gripping the headrest tightly, your body jerked forwards and backwards as Jaehyun slammed and thrusted into you in a pace that made you scream and moan his name.

“No one,” he panted. “No one’s gonna fuck you like this, Y/N.” You felt his body leaning closer. He was hugging your back while fucking you from behind.

Your sweat trickled down the leather sofa. Perhaps your saliva, too. The reality of your lover fucking your brains out, inside his penthouse, with the tall skyscrapers as the witness further ignited your lewdness. You moved to meet his thrust, but Jaehyun reached for your clit, rubbing harshly.

Biting back a cry, you focused on the feeling. The heat on your toes was unbearable. You could feel your release building up. Your moans get louder and louder as your abdomen tightens, your stomach caving in, ribs protruding. Then Jaehyun cut out the friction.

“Fuck!” you cried out. You were so close, so damn close. “Fuck you! Fuck you!” you chanted as he fucked you from behind. Jaehyun chuckled, clearly amused by the way you were so helpless. At this point, he would give you a cataclysmic vaginal orgasm if he won’t stop fucking you like that.

“Tell me why you kissed him,” he repeated with his brooding voice yet again.

You cried, literal tears streaming down your face, mixing with your sweat. “Because you are an asshole! And you deserved—”

Jaehyun thrusted forcefully, his skin slapping against yours, stroking your cunt with his hard cock. “Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N,” he gasped. “Why.”

Over and over, he spread you out and fucked you relentlessly. Your sex felt so full it was overwhelming. Jaehyun reached for your hands and secured them behind you. You screamed in frustration and pleasure. One touch on your clit and you would explode right there and there.

He reached for your nipple and flicked it with his forefinger and thumb, giving you shudders. You have nothing left to fight with. You were all his. Mind, body, and soul.

You were still panting when he leaned closer. Then his left hand found your clit again. You readied yourself for the intense orgasm. Praying that you won’t lose your mind.

Jaehyun pulled your hair lightly, bending you at his will. He licked your shoulder all the way up your jaw.

“Jae—” You didn’t finish your sentence when a loud cry resonated in you. He pinched the lips of your sex towards your clit. You screamed his name as the release finally exploded through you. The orgasm was so, sooo good, tears started to stream down your face again. You tried to grab him for support, anything, just to keep your body from limping. Your cunt was still pulsating when Jaehyun stilled and fresh, warm, semen burst inside you like a separate thrust. He spilled himself inside you, filling you in, occupying every space.

After his cock was finished pulsating, he pulled out. He’d never let go of your body as he turned you to face him. Your face collided with his chests, exhaustion pulling you down.

“I am yours,” he stated with his eyes finally softening. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever done something to hurt you.” Then he placed a reassuring kiss on your forehead.

You nodded slightly, eyelids drooping down. “I’m sorry, Jae. I never really meant to hurt you.”

“Hush, angel, I know,” he whispered before kissing your lips fully. After he pulled away, Jaehyun carried you to the bed in a bridal style.

“Let’s wash you first, alright?” he said. You moaned in response. Then he chuckled. There was no danger in his tone now, only amusement meant for you.

Jaehyun laid you down in the tub. He filled it in. Then he started to lather your hair with shampoo. Because of his large hands, Jaehyun’s massages are the best. You hummed as he rinsed off your hair.

After bathing you, he washed off the perspiration from his body, too. Then he carried you again to the bed after drying both your bodies.

Naked, you both laid down on the bed. Jaehyun tucked you in, spooning you. Then he gave your shoulder one last kiss, before you finally drifted into oblivion.

#nct smut #nct au #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct x y/n #nct x you #jung jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun x you #jung jaehyun x y/n #jung jaehyun au #jung jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun au #tw degradation #tw unprotected sex

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mellow-em · 3 years

Text

Bittersweet Temptations

CHAPTER 1

[special dt @bluewingedangel <3]

Your neighbors, Nathan and Elena, have been friends with your parents for years. Whether it’d be family gatherings or vacations, they were around; they were family. But when you return home from your final years of college, what will happen when you find that it isn't just them living in the house next door anymore?

_____________________________________

The murky layers of clouds that filled the grey afternoon sky, mutated into the clear blend of colors of the evening sunset.

I rolled the windows down over an hour ago, to let in the crisp breeze of the night to keep myself awake. It really was the longest drive of my entire life. Though, even if it had been drawn out to extremes thanks to the traffic on the highways, it was relaxing nonetheless.

I spin the steering wheel slightly, finally turning into my neighborhood. I let out an exasperated yawn, feeling my whole body yearning to be in my comfy bed again. I was tremendously exhausted.

I looked around at the strips of houses lining both sides of the road; because it had been around 7pm, lights remained visible within the windows, and families were most likely eating dinner.

Our neighborhood was known for being tranquill, that is, when you first enter anyway. The farther down you drive, the more lively it gets. My parents and I happened to live right towards the end of the street, where everybody knew everyone.

From when I was little all the way into highschool, we’d have block parties, barbecues, and random get togethers every chance we could get. Those would last for hours, leading into the am sometimes. It was chaotic most of the time, but I enjoyed it.

Not even a moment later I find myself in front of my house, pulling into the driveway with one swift turn in. I couldn’t even put the car in park before I heard an uproar by the front door, causing me to stifle a laugh and shake my head.

It’s definitely gonna be a long night.

I roll all of the windows up before shutting the car off, stashing my keys away into the side pocket of my shorts. While pushing the door open with my feet, I look up to see both of my parents awaiting to engulf me into a hug.

A warm smile rises on my face as I hug them back.

“We’ve missed you honey,” my mom softly said in my ear, smoothing my hair down before kissing the top of my head.

The hug had met its demise, and I turned around to look at the mountains of boxes overflowing within the backseat and the trunk of my car.

I inaudibly sigh in my head, knowing how time consuming this is going to be. Luckily mother could probably sense my vexation.

“Your father and I were gonna help you whether you liked it or not, so come on.”

“Thank you, I’m sorry that drive just killed me.”

She looked at me with a knowing expression on her facial features, “This is why I told you we should’ve helped you with heading home.”

I rolled my eyes, “And I insisted that I could take care of it myself,” I walked around to the other side as each of us opened the other doors to the car to start unloading my stuff.

She chuckled, dismissing me with a shake of her head. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Come on, let's start getting this done so you can go to sleep,” she paused behind me with a box wedged in her hands, “ cause your walkin’ around looking like a damn zombie.”

I scoffed jokingly, “ Ha ha ha, very funny.”

“Get to it y/n!” she called out from inside of the house.

I rolled my eyes yet again while lifting a fairly large pack that held my toiletries, and released a frustrated huff.

The thoughts of the future began to boil in my brain again, creating that oh so familiar, awful feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I knew for a fact that I couldn’t stay at my parents house for longer than a year, meaning I was going to have to figure all of my shit out within that time frame. Although it may seem like a lifetime away, the rest of my life was really on the line here.

And I couldn’t begin to admit how scared I really was.

Damn I feel like I’m being so unbelievably dramatic.

“Y/n, are you still alive over there?” The distant muffles I barely heard over me mentally walking down memory lane, became crystal clear.

My head jerked up abruptly, as I let out a small yelp, “What?”

I notice my dad in front of me, with two containers filled with my clothes, and a small bag stacked on top of one another in his hands.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya, kiddo.”

“It's fine, I- what were you saying?”

We started to travel slowly towards the steps to the front porch, as he spoke, “I was sayin’ that we're gonna be having a small get together to celebrate you being back home tomorrow night.”

“Your small get-togethers are never just small dad, do you remember your 40th birthday? You had almost the same amount of people over as the block parties.”

He snickered, “Hey, what can I say, I’m just a popular guy,” the both of us enter the house as he turns to me again, “But I will say, it will more than likely be small. You’re just gonna see a few new faces in the mix.”

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, “Wait what? Do we have new neighbors or something?”

The both of us walk up the stairs to my room, and place the boxes alongside the wall opposite of my bed.

“Something like that,” he pats my shoulder and hurries out the door to the hallway, leaving me even more confused, “Why do you insist on being so cryptic all the time?”

“I’m gonna get the rest of your stuff!”

I groaned, crashing into the plush comforter that was laying neatly on the bed beneath me. With no delay, my eyelids leisurely closed, and I eventually doze off.

______________________

Heat radiated from my body as I woke from a peaceful sleep. I shifted uncomfortably a few times, feeling the sweat sticking to my body.

No matter how hard I try, sleeping in the heat of this room is going to be like trying to sleep in a damn sauna. Useless.

I rolled over, with the pitch black atmosphere through the windows, and around me, taking up most of my vision.

It’s probably in the middle of the damn night.

I lifted my arm slightly to let my hand feel around the bed, in search of my phone to check the time.

Just my luck, my fucking phone is missing.

I look over to the other side of the room, where the unpacked boxes and containers remained stacked by the wall. The slight glare of the moon's reflection was hitting something on top of the windowsill.

“There you are,” the words fumbled out of my mouth sleepily, while I slowly rose from what felt like my puddles of sweat on the sheets. Stumbling in the process, I made my way over to what was thankfully my phone laying down in the moonlight.

The illumination of the screen screamed at my eyes, causing me to look away for a second, “shit that was bright.”

I adjust my eyes to the light to see the clock on the top of the screen:

3:28am

“Great. Well at least I got some sleep.” I toss my phone across the room, hearing it thump onto the side of my bed.

A wave of heat ran across my arms and legs, reminding me of why I woke up in the first place, “I’m not gonna take the chance of melting any more tonight.”

I reach over to unhinge the latch on top of the window next to me, and open it halfway. A gust of polar air simmered around me almost immediately, swiftly cooling me off to satisfaction.

I close my eyes, letting the nightly winds blow over me, with a relaxed smile forming on my face.

My small moment of tranquility was rudely interrupted by a splash from outside.

My eyes jolted open, and I instantly lurch my head up to look in that direction. To my surprise, the lights were on over Nate and Elena’s; the pool lights.

“Why would-?”

I knew for a fact that it wasn’t Nathan or Elena, knowing that they have a child on the way. Both of them were guaranteed to be asleep.

So who the hell is using their pool at 3 in the damn morning? That question replayed in my head as I stared out towards the pool, waiting to see the whoever it could possibly be.

As if on cue, I watched as the figure emerged from the pool, and a man slowly stepped out while using the ladder at the edge.

Just like that, it felt that I didn't have control anymore. My curious eyes wandered; lingering all over him.

He wore black swim trunks that were snug on his thighs in all the right places. They sunk down to the lower half of his hips, exposing his very visible trail of hair on the lower half of his abdomen.

The more I drank of him, the more it affected me.

His chest hair glistened from the pool water that began streaming down his abs. My eyes found themselves trickling over his toned biceps, and his scattered variety of tattoos that took up only a few spots on his body.

I knew I had to look away, but I couldn’t.

I finally looked up at his face.

Holy fuck.

The lower half of his face was lined perfectly with stubble, with his seemingly soft lips as the centerpiece. I traveled up his face, noticing the wrinkles that were sketched sparingly across his features.

He ran his hand through his soaked locks of hair that partially hung in front of his face, with his muscles flexed to an extreme. He wandered over to the table and chairs that were by the edge of the pool area; that was much closer to my window.

After reaching for the towel, he rubbed it through his hair, and started drying the rest of his body with it. Him doing so caused me to look him up and down once again. I looked down to his feet, and up to his head.

Only this time around, I was met with his eyes.

I felt an overwhelming surge of panic, but I was stuck in place. I felt trapped, with no escape from this whatsoever.

I’m such an idiot. I mentally scolded myself for letting my lustful curiosity get the best of me.

The reprimands within my mind were sliced in half, as a sly smirk traced over his lips, creating a few more layers of wrinkles upon his cheeks.

This could be chalked up to be the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever experienced.

I couldn’t decide on whether to focus on his lips or his eyes; it was becoming way too much to handle. I did a frantic dance between the two.

Coincidentally, as soon as our eyes met a final time, one of his eyelids opened and closed in one smooth motion, all while his stare remained fixated on me.

Did he really just do that? Did he just fucking wink at me?

I finally got the stamina to duck away from the window and onto the floor, with my back pressed against my former dorm room cases, and my breathing becoming more irregular by the second

What the fuck just happened?

#sam drake x reader #samuel drake x reader #sam drake #samuel drake #Uncharted 4 #uncharted fanfiction

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unbound-space-trash · 3 years

Text

Stars

summary: the mandalorian comes back from a hunt, but you’re not quite ready to go from being cooped up on the ship planetside, to being cooped up on the ship in space [ao3]

words: 2.3k

warnings: none except for some swearing and fluff about idiots in love

a/n: I really wasn’t expecting this to be longer than a thousand words, but more words kept happening and it just... kept going... so, have some words

✰ ✰ ✰

The Child babbled and waved his arms animatedly at you as the two of you played on the floor of the Razor Crest’s cargo hold.

It was closing in on the fourth day since the Mandalorian had left to go chase down a bounty, and you and the Child were both getting a little restless from being cooped up on the ship.

You were also starting to feel a desperate need for adult interaction, because while the Child had no problem holding up a side of a conversation, it wasn’t exactly intelligible. And sure, Mando wasn’t the most talkative of beings (if you were being honest, sometimes you felt like you were talking to an empty helmet for all he held up his end), at least conversations between the two of you revolved around topics other than food and naps.

You stretched your arms above your head before gathering up the pile of scattered blocks again. “Alright little one, I’ll cut you a deal,” you said as you fixed the Child with a mock-stern look. “I’ll help you build one more tower, and then you help me tidy up and put together some dinner, yeah?”

The Child tilted his head at you before reaching out and patting the palm of the hand you offered him, an excited look in his eyes at the promise of minor destruction and food.

You laughed. “Excellent. Now hand me that green one and we can-“

thumpthump thump thumpthump

The sound of someone hitting the outer hull of the Crest cut you off, and at the recognition of the familiar pattern, you quickly shoved the colourful blocks behind a crate before scooping up the Child and rushing up the ladder to close the two of you in the cockpit.

More than used to the routine by now, the Child was quiet in your arms as you got yourself settled in the co-pilots seat. His large ears perked up at the sound of the rear hatches ramp descending, and then you found yourself hurriedly covering said ears at the sudden onslaught of curses and insults.

“-iece of shit! Take these fuckin’ cuffs off me so I c’n knock th’t shitty fuckin’ helmet off your fuckin’ head, you stupid shiny moth-FUCK!”

The familiar hiss of the carbonite freezer cut off the swearing of the pissed off bounty and the Crest fell mostly silent again, until the sound of someone climbing the ladder drifted into the cockpit.

The cockpit doors opened and you shot an unimpressed look at the Mandalorian standing in the doorway, your hands still covering the Child’s ears.

“You know, I really won’t be surprised if the kid’s first word in Basic is ‘fuck’,” you said, before lowering your hands.

Mando made his way into the cockpit and turned the pilot’s seat around to face you before sitting down. “Neither would I,” he huffed, leaning forward to take the Child who had started squirming with a vengeance the second his beskar-clad guardian had appeared. Mando turned his attention to the kid. “You behave while I was gone, ad’ika?”

The Child babbled and waved his hands animatedly.

“Eh, about as well as can be expected, all things considered,” you said as you made a see-saw motion with your hand. “On a totally unrelated note, if you find food stuck to anything high up, I’ll let you use your imagination as to how it got there.”

Mando shook his head. “Womp rat,” he grumbled, and you could hear the accompanying eyeroll. His helmet looked back in your direction. “Sorry it took so long. Bastard was smarter than I thought he’d be. But we should have a clear run back to Nevarro for a couple rest days before heading back out again.”

You couldn’t help the look of displeasure that crossed your face at the thought of being cooped up on the Razor Crest for even longer.

“What is it?” Mando asked.

You moved to stand up, “I- nothing.”

Mando’s head tilted at your hesitation. “Cyar’ika, what’s wrong?”

“It’s just…” You dropped back down into the co-pilots seat with a sigh. “The kid and I have been inside the Crest the whole time you were gone, and I just…” You sighed again, looking down as you picked at a loose thread on your shirt. “I was kind of hoping that we could, you know, stay a bit longer and just… get some fresh air and let the kid chase bugs or roll in the grass or whatever.” You raised your head back up to look at the Mandalorian who was just looking back at you. Probably. He was facing you at least. “O-only if it’s safe! That’s… that’s why we didn’t go outside while you were gone. I mean, I know you taught me to shoot so I can help protect the kid if I need to, but-”

“Cyar’ika, stop.” The Mandalorian cut you off.

You looked back down at your lap again. “‘M sorry, I knew it was stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Mando said and he shifted the Child to one arm as he stood, offering you a hand.

You relished the feel of the worn leather in your hand as he pulled you up, a bright smile lighting up your features. “Really? You don’t mind?”

“C’mon mesh’la, I’ll start a fire and we can eat outside.”

You followed Mando out of the cockpit. He still hadn’t explained his nicknames for you, but they sound somewhat affectionate at least, so you guess you don’t mind.

✰ ✰ ✰

After he set up a small area and built up a fire just outside the cover of the Razor Crest, the Mandalorian disappeared back inside to clean up in the ‘fresher, while the Child “helped” you put together a quick stew for dinner.

As it cooked, you kept a close eye on the Child as he toddled through the grass and chased bugs in dying sunlight. When the Mandalorian returned, he took over so that you could take your own turn to wash up in the ‘fresher.

Once the food was ready, the Mandalorian went back up to the cockpit to eat, while you and the Child ate next to the fire.

You watched the Child’s eyes drooping closed more and more near the end of the meal, eventually retrieving his bowl before the poor kid could fall asleep in what little was left of his stew. Picking him and taking him inside, the combination of a full belly and running off all his excess energy had the Child asleep almost as soon as he was tucked into his little hammock.

The Mandalorian made his way back outside after you’d settled back next to the fire, leaning back a bit to look up at the stars.

“Where’s the kid?” He asked as he walked down the ramp.

You gestured in the direction of the bunk. “Comatose. I think that’s the easiest time I’ve ever had putting him down to sleep,” you said, a fond smile on your face.

Your gaze was still fixed on the stars above you, so you didn’t really notice the Mandalorian watching you. Not that you would have been able to see the way he looked at you, drinking in your features; the soft smile on your face, the way the stars reflected in your eyes. His adoration for you hidden behind a mask of beskar.

A gloved hand entered your line of sight. “Stand up.”

Your eyes flickered suspiciously between his visor and his hand, thinking back to the last time he’d done this, and the bruised ass and ego that had resulted from the self-defence lesson. “Mando, if you’re seriously thinking about another punching lesson, I’m going to politely tell you to fuck off.”

He said nothing, hand still held out waiting to help you up.

You let out a heavy sigh, knowing he wouldn’t back down. “Fine, but just know, if I end up puking, I’ll be aiming directly for your boots,” you grouched as you took his hand and were pulled to your feet.

An amused snort made its way through the modulator of the helmet as he led you by the hand to the side of the Crest, nodding to the handholds on the outer hull that led to the top of the ship. “Up.”

“Oh, hell no!” You looked at him in disbelief. “Nu-uh, I am not climbing up there so you can teach me a lesson in watching where I put my feet! Because when I fall off-“

“I won’t let you fall off, cyare, just climb up the damn ladder,” he said gruffly.

“Fine,” you said with a frown as you took your hand out of his (somewhat reluctantly) and climbed up the side of the ship.

You heard him begin his own ascent as you neared the top, and after you reached the roof of the Crest, you took up what you hoped was a solid stance. “I hope you’re prepared to explain to the kid why I have a broken arm tomorrow, Mando,” you told him.

His helmet tilted slightly. “You don’t trust me, cyare?”

You raised an eyebrow at him in response. “Mando, I trust you with my life. I don’t trust myself not to topple my ass off- … wh-what’re you doing?” You stuttered to a halt as he sat down on the roof.

The Mandalorian shrugged what would have been nonchalantly if you hadn’t picked up on the slightly nervous quality of his voice. “You can get a better view of the stars from up here.”

“I- you… I thought... s-stars?” All of your higher brain function seemed to have deserted you at the sight of your Mandalorian looking up at you, leaning back on one hand while the other rested on his knee.

He chuckled at the combination of confusion and appreciation on your face. “Yes mesh’la, stars.” He leaned forward to take his weight off his arm. “Are you going to stand there staring all night, or are you going to come sit down?”

You startled at the gentle teasing tone in his voice. “Oh, yeah- I… o-okay,” you stuttered out as you made your way over to him. You sat down next to him, leaving a foot of space between the two of you, only to let out a squeak of surprise as his arm came around your back and tugged you so that you were flush against his side.

There was another tug at your shoulder, this time directing you backwards. “Lie down, cyare,” he murmured next to your ear as he gently guided you to lay down with your head on his bicep.

A cool breeze drew you out of the shock of being pulled into such an intimate position with the Mandalorian, and you hesitantly wriggled a bit closer into his warmth. The arm curled around you tightened slightly and his thumb hesitantly began to rub gentle circles on your own arm. “Is… is this okay, mesh’la?”

You smiled at the question. “Yes Mando, this is more than okay,” you said, before turning your head to look back up at the stars.

The two of you had been laying there for a while, silently watching the moon as it made its slow march across the sky before you spoke up. “Are you ever going to tell me what they mean?”

The Mandalorian turned his head to you. “... the stars?”

You snorted out a laugh, “no, you overgrown tin can. What you call me, you know, the nicknames in what I’m going to assume is Mando’a.” His thumb stopped rubbing circles and you lifted yourself up on one elbow to look at him with a small frown. “None of them mean ‘asshole’, right?”

He huffs out a surprised laugh and pushes himself up to lean back on his elbows too. “No, none of them mean asshole,” he said as he turned his head back to the sky.

“Then what-”

“Beautiful.” His helmet tilted back towards you.

“I- what?” You were sure you hadn’t heard him properly.

The Mandalorian cleared his throat a little. “Mesh’la. It means ‘beautiful’.” He reached up and poked at the frown line between your eyebrows when you stayed silent, your mouth open in a little ‘o’ of surprise, and then his hand moved to cup your cheek. “You are beautiful.”

You turned your face into his hand and pressed a shy kiss into the palm of his glove even as you felt your face heating up. “Mando-” you began, but he shook his head and pulled you towards him to rest your forehead on his.

“Din,” his voice was soft and low, the single syllable barely picked up by the modulator. “Din Djarin. Not Mando, not to you.”

His name.

You pulled back to look at him, eyes tearing up a little even as your lips quirked into a smile at the trust he had in you to give you his name. “Din Djarin,” you murmured, testing out his name for yourself.

A low noise rumbled in his chest. Fuck, but he liked how his name fell from your lips. “Can I hold you again, ner kar’ta?”

“Of course,” you smiled and the two of you lay back down, Man- Din pillowing his head on his arm while you tucked yourself back into his side. “So, does this mean you’re going to tell me what the other ones mean?”

Din chuckled and you enjoyed how it sounded directly under your ear. “Not just yet, mesh’la. But maybe…” he broke off as if thinking about something.

“Maybe?” you questioned, perking up at the idea of possibly learning what another one meant.

“Shabuir,” he spoke up after a moment.

“You haven’t called me that before. What’s it mean?”

Din chuckled again. “That one means asshole.”

You huffed a laugh of your own and poked him in an unarmored section of his side in retaliation. “Shut up and watch the stars with me, smartass.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x gn!reader #the mandalorian x reader #gender neutral reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #star wars fanfic

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lxstfulbeans · 3 years

Note

JUST CURIOUS OR NOOOOT....if you’re open or not, that’s cool~....

*slides a hundred your way*

I must know, what would it be like for Levi, Erwin, and lastly HANGE *clears throat* to be with a Black S/O, but here’s the catch. They’re the only black person behind the wall..well atleast what’s his name comes around..

Also, Drink plenty of water, stay hydrated, sleep well, relax, breathe, happy Valentine’s Day ❤️

Aight I gotchu babes, lemme get that hunnid up outcha 😏. And thank you so much 🥺 same to you!!

I feel like I gave more to Erwin and Hange than Levi, but I love these three equally 😭✋🏽. But, hope you enjoy this!

Headcanons: what it’s like with the only black s/o behind the walls.

Levi Ackerman:

When he first met you, he’s like “what in the fuck-“

He never meant it in bad way, oh no ma’am. It’s just that NO ONE has ever seen anyone like you before, let alone thought there were people of a different race.

But knowing Levi, and seeing his resting bitch face.. how could you ever know 💀.

My guy literally lived in the UNDERGROUND, on some “City of Ember” type shit, and has never seen someone like you before.

When you decided to join the Survery Corps. then eventually choosing the Scouts after being top of your class. He took it as an opportunity to observe you (well, him and like twenty, thirty other people 💀), whenever y’all sat and talked about expedition plans with Hange and the Commander, he enjoyed listening to you speak your mind and blast your opinions.

And don’t get me started on how strong and open-minded you are.

Eventually, he’ll start catching feelings. He’ll talk to you more, occasionally praise you for a job well done more than he’s done ANYONE else. He’ll even fucking compliment you and pick up on little things you’ve done.

Of course, when the other brats get outta hand when it comes to awful flirting and tryna see what that thang do. He shuts that shit down before it can even start.

“Oi. Get the fuck outta here before I use you as live bait for the Titans.”

Best believe they skedaddled.

He asks if you’re okay, and to tell him that if anyone else makes you uncomfortable like that again so he could properly whoop they ass.

Y’all get to talking and.. somehow talk most of the day away.

When he heard you laugh, he was struck. His heart pounding, though he couldn’t help but feel a smile tug at his lips.

Then, he asks you to be his. Which you accept with pride.

He’s always there to help you with wash days if you need it. He loves helping you, even if he doesn’t really show it.

Oh, and that discrimination shit? Y’all can cut that shit out right now cuz Levi don’t play.

Teamwork makes the dream work when it comes to cleaning. He’s impressed at how much better you are at it than he others.

Oh and your COOKING babyyy

He be stingy with it for sure. He was big mad when everybody else wanted some, at least you saved some pie for him.

And y’all are partners in fucking crime. Y’all be bodying Titans left and right bruh. Don’t nobody want the smoke.

Erwin Smith:

Oh my lawd, why is he so fine and RESPECTFUL 😔✊🏽.

Okay, okay this ain’t about me rn heheh.

Honestly, he’ll be flabbergasted to be in your presence. He’s never seen someone of a different race before, he wondered were there more of you on the outside?

When he saw you the first time on the return from another expedition outside the walls. His eyes met you and he was just.. amazed. He was sure that he wasn’t seeing things but, he had to see you again.

When he couldn’t find you, he had to come to the conclusion that you were a hallucination. I mean, he was exhausted, sleep deprived, and hungry.

But, eventually he found you by yourself at the bridge. He was amazed at how the morning sun made you glow, reflecting off of your brown skin.

When you caught him staring, he choked on his words as he rambled with apologies. This made you smile, inviting him to sit and enjoy the morning with you.

Y’all started talking and you just.. clicked. When he heard your laugh for the first time, he had it bad.

He tried visiting you as much as he could, even if it was only a simple “hello, how are you?” or the slightest of small talk.

When the Walls were invaded, you were helpless. No one bothered to help you, either saving their own asses or being eaten alive. You couldn’t count the times where you were so close to meeting death. You refused to become a victim and have fear control you.

When you joined the Scouts, he was shocked to you standing here before him. Your fist over your heart as you announce yourself. He never thought you would be here about to risk your life everyday.

But, he saw that fire in your eyes and smiled.

He couldn’t guarantee your safety but would do everything in his power to make sure nothing happens to you.

He’s a busy man. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t sit and talk with you all of the time. If you were lucky, he’d send a smile or even a wink your way.

Though, he’s often caught you by yourself again, watching the sunset or gazing into the night sky. The way you skin would glow made him look back on old times.

He sits with you, talking the night away and making you smile again.

Overtime, you eventually get closer. When you originally closed yourself of because of the events of “That Day”, but opened up more and more when you both were together.

Whenever somebody tries to snitch on you to him, you’re literally not phased by this shit.

“Tell him then, I don’t give no fuck! Matter of fact, I’ll tell him for you!”

He honestly adores how you don’t take shit from anybody, but he lets you get away with a little bit of things. He won’t reprimand you but will give you a slap on the wrist if you went too far with something.

Whenever he says something unintentionally funny, you just crack up laughing. Like, you are wheezing so silently and rolling on the floor in tears. He couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head at how silly you were.

He adored everything about you. Your laugh, how your skin glows in the light, your captivating smile, and how you weren’t playing games with nobody.

This time, he realizes his growing feelings for you.

Eventually, he confesses his feelings to you. Like this man is poetic as hell, he’s listing off everything he loves about you, even the little things made his heart soar. You were honestly shocked that your Commander felt this way about you.. but you couldn’t lie and say you didn’t feel the same.

After y’all get boo’d up, you’re basically a power couple.

Somebody got one time to talk shit about you, on god he is on them like white on rice.

“If you say one more word about them, I will personally make sure that on the next expedition, I will leave you behind...”

Ah, don’t you just love it when it he gets serious and protective?

And both y’all side-eye the fuck outta people when they don’t rub you the right way.

Wash days? He’s all for it. Once he sees your arms drooping, clearly worn out from washing your hair, he’ll happily roll up his sleeves and get up in there.

Bruh, have you seen his hands?? You KNOW his massages are bomb af, like you damn near fall asleep everytime he massages and scratches your scalp.

Don’t get him started on your cooking, he’d do anything for it. He gets so happy when you save extra plates for him to eat later.

When push comes to shove and everyone’s losing their shit, you have to be strong. Erwin’s always motivated you and inspired you, if humanity had any chance to survive, you had to show it.

“Y’all need to get yo shit together PERIODT! It’s okay to be scared, but we won’t make it out of this if you keep actin’ like this! Y’all signed up to protect humanity right?! Well, show these Titans who they fuckin’ with!”

After hearing that.. he wanted to marry you.

(bonus: let’s say that he’s alive 💀 cuz I literally cried when he got clapped like how-)

When you were finally able to go outside the walls without any fear of the Titans, you felt free.

When you came across the ocean, he couldn’t take his eye off of how amazed you looked at the clear blue waters, the sun making it shine towards its horizon.

“It’s everything Cadet Arlelt said, right? Where there’s an ocean.. there’s other lands, eventually other enemies.”

“I know. We made it this far, it’s only right that we keep goin’.”

Hange Zoë:

Hange can GET IT MM- 🤧 they are literally so fine.

oh, and it’s kinda canon that they’re non-binary so 😃.

This’ll be after you first join the Scouts and baby they was on you like white on rice INSTANTLY.

They’ve never seen anyone like you before. It was almost forbidden to learn or talk about anything beyond the walls, were there more of you?? Where did you come from?

Though, they’re outta pocket questions and lack of knowledge of something called, “personal space” kinda made you nervous so they brought down a couple notches.

When they got to know you more, they were just ecstatic to see you.

When Hange caught you alone, basking in the warm embrace of the sun, they couldn’t take the throbbing of their heart as your dark skin was shining.

When you eventually start dating, they had no problem putting folks in their place when they try you.

“Alright, I see that you have quite a lot to say about my s/o! I bet you won’t be spouting a word when you come face to face with Titan. I’ll happily let you see them up close..”

They’d absolutely kill for your cooking. Deadass. If they’re not the first and last one to get a plate, they’ll be big mad for a hot minute.

I’m sure they observe you a lot, especially when it comes to your routines and how you try your best not to smell like a hunnid cans of bounce dat ass 💀. So when wash day comes and you’re kinda tired after training, they’ll happily wash your hair for you.

They’ll praise you for all the hard work you’ve done, giving you little forehead kisses, massaging and giving light scratches to your scalp.

OOH WEE- you are in absolute heaven with them.

Both of y’all share that chaotic energy, bugging the hell outta Levi when you get the chance.

When it comes to fighting Titans, y’all don’t play! When it’s time to put the moves on ‘em you do it!

- - END SCENE - -

#poc writers #anime headcanons #black reader #attack on titan #aot x black!reader #anime x black!reader #poc reader #erwin headcanons #hange headcanons #levi headcanons #attack on titan headcanons

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gayestnerdsinfiction · 3 years

Text

An Encounter with the Beast

tw: descriptions of blood/injuries

Edward had been sleeping peacefully, dreaming of winning arguments against his high school tormentors with witty one-liners, when the whole building shook violently around him. He was jolted awake by the sound of something thudding heavily on the roof, scraping and scrabbling around and creating quite an unpleasant racket. Edward groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he sat up in bed.

When the noises showed no signs of subsiding, he slid out of bed and grabbed a fluffy, green bathrobe off the hook in the closet. He thought perhaps a group of feral cats or raccoons or some other vile beasties had decided to take up residence on top of the dilapidated apartment building he had been living out of and needed to be chased away from the premises. Ordinarily, he would send Echo or Query to complete such a task, but he was still working on securing their release from Blackgate. Unfortunately, he would have to take care of it himself this time. He briefly wondered if he should bring a weapon to threaten the creature with, but ultimately decided that, no, he should be able to handle a small animal in hand to hand combat if the necessity arose.

Edward opened the front door of his apartment, stumbling out into the hall and heading towards the stairwell that led up to the roof. As he ascended, he had the gnawing feeling that he was going to regret not being better prepared, better armed, that whatever was awaiting him on the rooftop would be more than a simple animal. He paused at the landing, hand on the push-bar, his confidence wavering. Pressing his ear up against the cool surface of the door, he listened. He could hear something writhing and rustling, like wind snapping in a sail. He pushed the door open, stepping tentatively out into the cool night air.

At first, Edward couldn’t even understand what he was looking at. The sight he was met with was unlike anything he had ever encountered before, and that was saying something. He took in the huge, heaving body before him, the dark feathers rustling like a heavy curtain in the wind. Carefully, keeping as far from the beast as he could without falling off the edge of the roof, he made his way around to its face. If it could be called a face.

The creature had a long, leathery snout, its lips pulled back in a snarl to expose a row of wicked fangs, slick and gleaming. Its maw was smeared with drying blood, as were its feathers. It was strange; the being seemed stuck somewhere between a canine and a bird while still seeming uncomfortably humanoid in its physique.

“What on Earth?” he muttered, staring in shock and awe and disgust at the monster before him. As he inspected further, Edward could make out a small, circular wound buried beneath the matted feathers, steadily oozing dark blood.

One of its beady eyes snapped open, swiveling in its socket to look at Edward. When it caught the sliver of moonlight peeking through the fog it flashed silvery white, reflecting the light back at him. Edward balked, his blood running cold in his veins as he backed away. The creature croaked out a woeful sound that made Edward’s blood run cold, somewhere between a howl and a squawking bird.

“Only in this city,” he grumbled, keeping a careful watch on the creature. It made no attempt to pursue him, just stared back at him with its shining eyes. The beast shifted suddenly and Edward tensed, preparing to evade, but it just ruffled its feathers in a way that didn’t look at all satisfying. As it did, something limp and brown shook out of its wing. Edward couldn’t make out what it was in the dark, but it looked eerily like a long strip of skin.

Trying to get out of the monster’s line of sight, he crept around to get a better look at the mysterious item. He was relieved to find upon further inspection that it wasn’t, in fact, skin. Rather, he found himself looking at a torn piece of fabric. Burlap. He looked back up at the creature, beginning to notice other scraps of brown and black fabric hanging off its hulking body. He felt a sick lurch of recognition as he worried the cloth between his fingers.

It could be a coincidence, Edward thought as his gaze flitted back to the beast’s eye. It was still watching him, unblinking, chest rising up and down as it took in rasping breaths.

“I’m going to feel like an idiot if I’m wrong,” Edward said, cursing himself for not being able to keep his thoughts silent, unsaid. With great hesitance, Edward approached the creature’s face again. He stood much closer than was comfortable and he was nearly overwhelmed by the stench of blood and filthy water and that awful smell that birds have. “Are you… Do you know me?” he asked, unwilling to voice his exact conclusion for fear of being mistaken.

Edward stared at the beast and the beast stared back and it was unresponsive for so long that he was beginning to wonder if it could even understand English. But just as he was considering abandoning the attempt altogether, the beast jerked to life. An arm, previously unseen within the mass of feathers, darted out and captured Edward’s small body in a set of curved claws. He yelped as he was pulled close to the beast, so close he could see his reflection in the black expanse of its eyes.

Before he knew what was happening, the creature had opened its mouth wide and a long, sandpapery tongue was dragging across Edward’s face.

Edward squeezed his eyes shut, sputtering as the beast licked him. “God, Jonathan!” he exclaimed, annoyed at the gesture—albeit affectionate. “What the hell is this? Some new experiment of yours gone wrong?” His hand settled on Jonathan’s snout, feeling the bumps and wrinkles along his skin. When he pulled away, his palm was smeared with blood. “Oh, darling,” he murmured. “What happened to you?”

He knew the question was futile. In this state, Jonathan could only let out a guttural sound in response. But Jonathan didn’t need to use words for Edward to understand the pain he was in.

“How can I get you back?” he asked; another rhetorical question. “It’s going to be hard getting you inside and patched up and everything in this condition and I really don’t think I can remove a bullet from you up here in the dark, so… I need you to be human again, please.”

Of course that did nothing, and he almost thought he saw Jonathan rolling his eyes.

“Well, it was worth a try,” he said. “Who would I even… call for something like this?” Edward wondered aloud. “Maybe Victor? But—damn, he’s in Arkham isn’t he? Is there… something in your lab that I could go—” he cut himself off, startled as Jonathan’s grasp around him disappeared and his claws moved to point up at the barely visible moon.

“What are you—oh!” he said brightly, the meaning of the gesture coming together in his mind. “Werewolf rules?”

Jonathan’s hand—because it was quite like a hand, Edward thought—lowered to settle on the rooftop, which Edward took to mean he was correct.

“Will you be alright through the night?” Edward asked as he ran his palm along Jonathan’s flank, smoothing his crumpled feathers with the grain until he neared the still bleeding wound in his side. “I suppose I could get a flashlight and try—”

Once again he was interrupted, this time by a wing moving to knock Edward awkwardly into Jonathan’s body. His face was engulfed by rough feathers and he gagged slightly as the smell became truly overpowering, but it didn’t deter him from burying himself deeper into Jonathan’s chest. His large body was radiating heat and Edward was grateful for that because he knew it was going to be a long, cold night spent on the rooftop with this creature. His creature.

“It’s… It’s going to be okay,” he mumbled into Jonathan’s feathers, speaking more to himself than the other being. “I’m going to stay.”

Jonathan’s chest rumbled and it was almost akin to a purr, vibrating against Edward’s cheek. He couldn’t help but laugh a little at that, at how ridiculous this whole thing was. Really, things like this could only happen in Gotham. And only Jonathan could show up at Edward’s home in the middle of the night as a hideous monster and still receive a warm welcome. “You just get stranger every day, don’t you?” he said softly. “Usually I can keep up, but I will admit, this… this caught me off guard.” He pulled back slightly, peeking out to see if Jonathan was looking at him.

He was. It sent a silent thrill through Edward, having this creature’s gaze on him, knowing what it meant.

“Never a dull moment, my dear,” he said with a chuckle. “That’s one of the things I like about you.”

#scriddler #scarebeast #scarecrow #riddler #jonathan crane #edward nygma #batman #dc #fic #my fic #writing #my writing #i imagine scarebeast looking kinda like howl from the hmc movie in his monster form

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murderdaddymayhem · 3 years

Text

Trapped - Mark Hoffman x Reader [NSFW]

Hoffman has feelings for Strahm's fiance. Now that Strahm is dead, you struggle with returning those feelings just for the night.

Set in between Saw V and VI. Please visit the ao3 link for full tags.

“Hey. You left something by the coffee machine.”

You look up, and see Detective Hoffman holding your engagement ring. “Oh,” you smile. “How do you know it’s mine?”

“I guess I look at your fingers a lot,” he jokes, tossing it to you. You slide it back on.

“Do you? How’s this one look?” You playfully flip him off, and he manages as much of a chuckle as the stoic man ever could.

“I’ve sure seen that one more than the others.”

You return the ring to your finger, sliding it on and sitting back down at your desk.

“We’re going out for drinks tonight,” Hoffman mentions, “Wanna come?” You normally wouldn’t join the rest of the officers after hours, but you had been making more of a solid effort to go out and enjoy yourself now that the initial sting of Peter’s death had subsided for you. You tilt your head.

“Is Lindsey gonna be there? Matthews?”

“Yeah. Sing, Tapp. Everyone’s going.”

“Sure. I’ll be there,” you nod.

“Great.” He looks like he wants to say something else, and eventually closes with, “Don’t work yourself too hard.”

You look down to the paperwork on your desk, and back up to return with a quip, but Hoffman’s gone. You spend longer than you should looking out your door, mindlessly counting the number of steps it takes him to get back to his own office as if you hadn’t already memorized it.

Mark sits down at his desk. He’d always had a thing for you. He’d been jealous of Strahm, not only in his stellar reputation with the guys, but of his pretty wife and his perfect life. Mark may have seemed like the handsome hero everyone dreamed of, but in reality, he was a pitiable alcoholic whose sole personality trait was mourning.

If you ever did return his feelings, it would probably be because you pitied him for the loss of his sister, which hurt more than the bindings John had put him in that first day of initiation. He only wanted one thing, really. Maybe two, the first being justice. True justice. As for the second, it's not viable to have you in the position he's in, but his tendency to run from his emotions is being put to the test by your acceptance of his invitation.

When you get to the bar you and everyone at the station frequent after work, Hoffman’s sitting there. Within a half an hour, it’s become apparent the others aren’t coming... and were never coming.

“You invited me out under false pretences,” you say, accepting your drink of choice from the bartender with a nod. “Why?”

“I told you, the others didn’t show.”

“I work for the FBI, and you’re a detective. You’re honestly trying to lie to me?”

Hoffman considers this, purses his lips. “Not very well thought out on my part, I guess.”

“What, did you want to talk to me about a case?” you ask. “Something about today’s paperwork?”

“You know I don’t want to talk about that crap. I wanted to ask you how you were,” he corrects you, taking another generous sip of his second double vodka of the night. “All these months later. Treat you to a night off.”

“Oh,” you nod. “Right.” You’re quiet for a moment. “I’m okay. I haven’t really said it out loud yet, but I think I am.” You debate opening up, but you know he’s also lost someone, so you take a chance. “I feel bad when I forget him.”

“Yeah. I know how it feels to forget. My sister was a huge part of my life, and I never thought I could. And I can’t. Difference is, I try to forget.” You stay quiet, ruminating on the reminder of Mark’s dead sister. He didn’t talk about her often for that reason you suppose, but everyone who knew Hoffman knew he was the way he was because of her death. “You’re not wearing your wedding band,” he mutters, starting in on his third drink.

“I lost it,” you whisper.

“Like you lost it by the coffee machine today?”

You avert your eyes down to your lap. “Maybe you’re not the only one who tries to forget.” Silence passes between you as you explain. “Looking at it opens up old wounds. Keeping the past in the past is my way of dealing with it. He’s gone. If I think about how awfully he died, how scary his last seconds were, it’ll be like it happened yesterday... and I’ll have to start the process again.” You shove your hand down into your pocket, unwilling to study your bare ring finger any longer. “The past is as tangible as the future, detective. If I can’t feel it, it’s not there.”

“You think denying it’s gonna help you in the long run?”

You frown, looking up at him. “Nobody’s denying anything.” Blinking as if in slow motion, Mark gets up and tosses money down for the two of you. He takes your arm and leads you out of the bar, into the cool night air. Confused and more than a little angry, you jerk your arm away. “Why did you invite me for drinks?”

“I wanted to offer my condolences. Again.”

“Bullshit. It’s been 4 months and you haven’t once said you’re sorry he died in one of John Kramer’s sick traps. I know you two weren’t close, but why wait this long? What do you really want?”

“I don’t want anything.”

“Look me in the face and tell me one thing tonight that isn’t a lie,” you demand. Mark turns to you fully.

“Okay. I want to fuckin’ kiss you.”

You hesitate. That was the opposite of what you were expecting. You try and find words as Mark stares at you with that dark gaze, those eyes that seemed to linger in your mind now that you were lonely and no longer trapped under the weight of a lacklustre partnership.

“So? What’s stopping you?” You can never tell what’s going on behind those eyes; he guards his feelings and he guards his secrets. You know he has more secrets than the average man, but he’s a detective. How bad can they be?

“You want me to kiss you?” he murmurs. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do.” He advances, walking you back against the brick wall of the alley no doubt filled with the scum John had him abduct for his games. “Huh? You want me to kiss you how you’re used to? Kiss you like it’s an obligation? Like it’s what people expect me to do?” Your eyes start to prick with tears as Hoffman brushes your hair out of your face. “You want me to tell you I love you like a man who’s only true obsession is a serial killer he couldn’t begin to understand?”

“Hoffman, Peter—”

“Don’t say his name,” he mutters, “You’ll cut the wound wide open again, sweetheart.” He presses his lips against yours, and you feel your body release all of its tension. He kisses like Strahm’s antithesis—like he knows what he’s doing. He’s rough and he’s present, nothing like how you’d imagined the cold detective would. Peter had tried, but as much as he wanted to be, he hadn’t loved you as much as that damn case. Hoffman adversely seemed to care about anything but, even though he was in charge of it. You used to think everything was a façade for Hoffman, that appearances were everything. Façades have to crumble sometime.

By the time you had arrived at his apartment with him in the passenger’s seat, the full effects of the detective’s four double vodkas had set in. He tries to maintain his sense of self until the elevator, then down the hall and into his place.

“Shit,” Mark grunts, sliding your jacket off, “I want you.”

“No you don’t.”

He licks his lips. “Wanna bet?”

“You’re drunk, and we’re colleagues,” you mutter. “You’re gonna walk into work tomorrow morning and you’re not going to be able to look me in the eye.”

“What, after taking you on every surface of my apartment?” he mutters, lips dipping dangerously close to your neck. “Your pussy isn’t gonna shock me. Yours isn’t the first I’ve seen, but it’s sure as hell on my list.” You try once more to push him off, and he tries to stand wearily. His brown eyes blink a few times, and he shakes his head. “Fuck. Sorry.” He lets go of you, backs off. You realize your mistake, and take him by his lapels.

“Are you?”

He looks back up at you, and through your shared gaze, he sees his own arousal reflected in your eyes. His lips are back on you, finally touching your skin, and his hands roam under your top, up to cup your breasts and paw for the hooks of your bra.

“Around the back,” you whisper against his lips. In his drunken state, Hoffman misinterprets this to mean you want to be turned around, and you find yourself pressed against the wall as his hands massage your ass. A moan slips from you as you try to reach back. “I meant the bra.”

“Fuck,” he repeats again, slightly slurred, and reaches up to take it off of you. It drops down one arm, and Mark turns you around again to take your top off and release the garment from your sleeve. “This is what I’ve been fuckin’ missing?” he mutters, half to himself. “God damn gorgeous.”

“Tell me more?” you ask coyly, wrapping arms around his neck. He growls, picking you up by the ass so your legs can wrap around his hips.

“You don’t even wanna know the shit I fantasize about with you,” he mumbles, grinding himself between your legs.

“Wanna bet?” you volley back his line with a grin, and he scoffs, working down your panties as you reach a hand forward to tease him through his business casual pants. The feeling of his bulge grounds you in the reality that yes, Mark Hoffman does want you back. He wants to fuck you in his apartment, and he wants to do it now.

“I’m drunk, but I’m not drunk enough to tell you that, honey.” He presses a soft kiss to the curve of your jaw and slides your panties off, dropping them and rubbing his fingers back up your thighs and beneath the plush seat of your ass. His fingertips are oddly rough, for a detective who hasn’t seen field work in three months.

“What’s your secret, Hoffman?” you ask, and he uses one hand to stroke up the column of your neck.

“Gonna have to fuck me to find out.”

The two of you move over to his couch, Hoffman attempting to lift you over. His state tells you this is a bad idea, so you just pull him by his tie over, and push him down on the couch. He seems to like your show of control, eyes roaming up and down your body as you stand over him. “This feels a little unfair,” you whisper, lifting a hand up to squeeze your breast. Hoffman tears his eyes away from the action.

“What does?”

“Look at you,” you gesture to his fully clothed form, “And look at me.”

“Oh, I’m looking,” he nods, reaching down to squeeze himself. You get between his legs on the couch with a huff, and take over, unzipping his pants and giving him a better squeeze through his boxers. You can feel how hard he is, how large his bulge has grown. He grinds up into your hand, makes no move to undress himself any further.

“You’re selfish,” you mutter.

“I never said I was a nice guy,” he replies.

“You’re a detective.”

“Gray area.”

“For what?”

“My hobbies.”

“Which are?” You sit back on your heels for a moment. Hoffman seems to realize he was about to let something big slip, and your curiosity only grows as he cuts himself off.

“Shut up, will you? And kiss me.”

“That’s my line,” you groan, unbuckling his belt and sliding it out.

“I stole it.”

“You steal a lot?” you probe, hoping to uncover that elusive secret.

“Like I said,” he mutters, face still stone cold. “I’m not a nice guy.” You moan as he pulls you down against him, and moves his hand down to uncover his cock in a smooth movement of his hand. He groans as it grazes against your thigh and up to your pussy, and you lean down to kiss him again. His large hands reach up to your smooth naked back, clutching your body to his as he deepens the kiss. Your breath mingles as you pull away, vodka in his and the mint of chewing gum in yours.

“Condoms?” Mark reaches beside him to the coffee table, and pulls open a packet. Reaching between you two and keeping you held up with the ease of a strong bicep, he doesn’t break eye contact with you as he rolls one onto his shaft—the feeling alone of his own hand on himself is enough to make him moan, but he keeps it together. You lift up to position yourself. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

“I’m ridiculously hard for you,” he replies, eyes half lidded and lips parted. “I think if you left me now, it would be the first time in my life I’ve cried.” You roll your eyes, and he sits you down on his cock. Your eyes roll back. He looked big when he first took himself out, but it was nothing compared to the feeling. He’s stretching you all the way to the base, hands tightening on your arms. He rocks up once, and you whine his name softly. “Can you move?” he whispers, slurring his words.

“Yeah.” You start to rock down, and his breath hitches. After a moment, he reaches his hands further back, feeling your ass and groping it before sliding them up to your lower back to guide your movements.

“So good,” he mumbles, “Never knew I wanted you... this fucking bad.”

“When did you figure it out?” you smirk, gasping as he hits deep.

“Today, at the office.” His eyes slip shut. “I looked at you sitting there, and wished your picture was on my shelf instead of all the bullshit awards I don’t fucking deserve. One thing that means something to me, that I don’t have to tempt fate to get. That’s all I want. That’s all I need. Just someone else. Just someone else.”

You can’t think of a response. To save him embarrassment in the morning if he, by some miracle, remembers this conversation, you don’t reply. You’re afraid you’ll scare him off if you reciprocate the sentiment, and you’re terrified you’ll offend him if you coddle him. Then again, he could mistake your silence for apathy. Even in his impaired state of mind, Mark seems to realize what’s running through your head. He pulls you down against his broad chest again to put all these thoughts you had no business thinking while getting fucked to bed.

Still, he offers no tender explanation of his confession, no further apologies or bashful take-backs. He only increases his pace, grunting as you start to feel your climax build.

“I wanna feel you cum all over me,” he growls, “Fuck. Fuck, let me feel it.”

“Hoffman.”

“Use my name. Use my fucking name—”

“Mark.”

“Ah,” he hisses, trying to make himself last. “Good girl. Good girl...” You squeeze around him, riding him back and forth, your clit grinding against his pelvis and your ass slamming down into his thighs. He lets out sharp puffs of air, wrapping one arm around you and tightening it. You feel as though you’re as close to the distant man as you’ve ever been as he breathes your name into your hair, burying himself in it as he buries his cock the deepest it will go inside of you and stills.

You’re both almost there, and the formality between you dies.

“Mark—I’m gonna cum,” you breathe desperately, “Don’t stop!”

True to character, Hoffman doesn’t offer any verbal encouragement, but his body language is worth a thousand words. He bites your earlobe, reaching down to rub your clit in circles. The action makes you gasp, and you brace yourself on his chest as your orgasm finally hits in waves. His hips convulse inside of you as he finally lets himself finish with you, and your grunts and groans meld together into a harsh symphony of panted out breaths.

“You moan so pretty, babygirl,” he sighs. A warm flush rushes through your body at that, and you’re not sure why. This needs to stay a one night’s stand, not some workplace romance the two of you can giggle about behind closed doors. It would only be a liability to both of your careers in the force, and you know Mark will agree once he sobers up in the morning.

“Stop thinking,” he groans. His voice is gravelly, sated. “Hey. Stop. More importantly, stop guessing what I’m thinking.”

You stare down at him, eyes dancing between his. Your voice comes out barely louder than a whisper. “What are you thinking?”

“Absolutely nothing. Which is what you should be thinking of too, after we both fell into bed together.”

He seems to grow uncomfortable with the close eye contact, feels as though you’re reading him like a book. He moves your head down, where you lay there on his softly rising and falling chest. His steady breathing makes you think he’s fallen asleep, but his eyes are wide open. He stares up at the ceiling as if he was staring up at Peter Strahm again, watching the walls close in on the agent and crush his bones as he himself sunk into the ground safely entombed in glass. He swallows, imagining how your bones must have crunched in on themselves as you crumpled to the floor receiving news of your husband’s death.

His fault.

John’s fault. Jigsaw's fault.

No.

His fault.

He thought acting on his feelings and sleeping with you would make him forget Strahm ever existed. Instead, it felt like Strahm was the one in that box, watching the walls close in on Hoffman as every shitty thing he’d done in his life came closing in on him. Hoffman feels his heartbeat pick up desperately, but talks himself down as he did every night. He listens to the rhythm of your breath, tries to meditate to it.

You don’t have the problem of hyperactive thought at the moment—you had taken Mark’s advice, and calmed down. It’s okay that you had moved on. It’s okay you had found comfort in someone else’s arms, and it’s okay that it’s Hoffman. Despite this, one singular question seems to bounce back and forth in your head as curiosity digs its nails back in.

Your finger traces a pattern in the rug below the couch... the pattern of a puzzle piece.

#mark hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #hoffman x reader #detective hoffman #detective hoffman x reader #saw #saw v #saw vi #saw 5 #saw 6 #costas mandylor #saw franchise #saw movies #slasher fandom #slasher fanfic #slasher x reader #saw fanfiction

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ramp-it-up · 3 years

Text

Fresh Squeeze 9

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x OFC Linden Marshall (You)

Set in 2023, post-pandemic. Isabela, PR

Warnings: Cursing, implied drug use (marijuana), drinking, Anthony Ramos, Fluff. Poorly described performing, Plot. SMUT, Graphic depictions of sex. Mature themes and situations.18+. Dom! Daveed, unprotected sex (wrap it when you tap it folks), sex in da club, breeding kink.

Word Count: 5.5 K

Plot: It’s Linden’s birthday and her present is Daveed Diggs.

I PROMISE, my heaux, I meant for their first time to be all candlelight and rose petals and a nice bed, but… they just took over with their horny selves. Hope it’s okay. All mistakes my own.

Previous Chapter

------

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, you thought as you watched Daveed’s chocolate, muscled back retreat into his room.

Although you could feel yourself drawn to him like a magnet, you didn’t want to lose yourself to a relationship again. You’d worked too hard and come too far.

But this attraction was like nothing you’d ever felt before.

You went to the kitchen, getting some water to quench your thirst. You decided to calm down by watching the waves as you drank.

In his room, Daveed laid out what he was going to wear, and take off, that night. He looked in his bag for his chains and then had a thought.

He opened his door to see you at the bar in the kitchen, drinking something and looking out at the surf.

Although he wanted to enjoy the view of you, he called your name and strolled out of his room.

“Linden!”

When you heard him call your name, you slowly turned around, not knowing whether to expect him to grab you and take you back to his room, or tell you that he’d decided that you should just be friends.

But all that anxiety was wiped away with that killer smile of his. You smiled back up at him hopefully.

You looked delectable to Daveed, but he came back out with a purpose. He nodded toward what was in his hand.

“Will you rock my chain?…”

He held it out, a 30 inch Cuban link chain that seemed kinda heavy. You looked at it and then at him, amused.

“What are we? In high school?”

Damn, Daveed sure did feel like it. You made him so unsure. So he played off his nerves and chuckled.

“Nah, far from it.”

But when he bit his lip you felt those adolescent butterflies that flew in your belly when your crush looked at you.

“I just like seeing you wear my stuff. Today it was….”

The vision of you wearing his cutoff jeans and fingering yourself while he talked you through an orgasm was making him firm.

“It was... Yeah.” Daveed gulped and mentally told himself to calm down.

Your face got warm as Daveed looked down at the chain in his hand and then held it out to you. You just stared at it.

“I dunno. What does this mean for this…relationship?” Shit, you were playing yourself. What made you say the “R” word?

You looked up at Daveed and his eyes lit up, even though he tried to hide it, you could tell. He just cleared his throat and made a joke.

“So, I just thought you could wear it tonight… It’s a loan. Not trying to give you any jewelry or nothing like that.”

His lopsided smile was everything. But you didn’t dare show how happy you were in that moment. But damn, you were happy.

Daveed didn’t want you to get offended like earlier, but he thought it was too late when he saw the pout on your face.

“You promised to get me some nipple clamps…”

All Daveed could do was stare at your lips; his mind blanked at the vision of you in sex jewelery.

All of his willpower was in this moment. He almost bent down and threw you over his shoulder to take to his room, but…

He laughed and smiled, all cool on the outside.

“I did say that, didn’t I?” HIs voice was an octave lower and your insides quivered at the tone.

You nodded at him, all wide eyed and ready to fuck. He cleared his throat again.

“Well, this is the best I can do. In a pinch.”

You flashed back to him manhandling you earlier, pinching and rolling your nipples just like you liked it.

A good Sir. So hot. And he had you right where he wanted you.

“So will you wear it?”

You reached and took the chain in your hand, its weight heavier than you’d imagined.

You looked up at him, then the chain, then back at him made him wish the night away so he could do what he wanted with you.

“Yes. Sir. “

The way you looked at him, innocent yet greedy. Damn he needed to fuck you. His dick pulsed and swelled, pulling blood from his brain, making him a little euphoric.

Fuck yeah. That hard dick dopamine.

You felt the control you had over him. The way his pretty brown eyes were blown the moment you said’ Sir’ did something you.

“If I offered to suck your dick, right now, would you tell me no again? I don’t like rejection, Daveed.”

“Linden!”

He grabbed you by the back of your neck and hip, and pulled you to him, pressing your barely clothed body to his, making you feel how hard you had gotten him through his swim trunks.

“You trying to control me is not going to work, sweetheart. I’m in control. As far as sucking my dick goes, I’ll tell you when, how and if you can even breathe.”

Daveed’s eyes searched yours, seeing the halfway here, halfway there look in your eyes.

He looked at your open mouth gasping for air and he took it, covering your mouth with his.

Then he pulled back.

“Got it?”

“Y-yes Sir.”

This time, the phrase served to calm him. He rested his forehead against yours. While he cupped your cheeks in his hands.

“Linden, are you SURE that’s what you want? I could really hurt you.” He took a deep, ragged breath and looked down.

“I-I’m not sure I can control my…..baser tendencies with you. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way. I don’t want to think I’m…”

“Daveed, I’m grown. I know what I’m doing. I want this. I’ll take what you give me. I’ll take it all.” You smiled at him as he looked back up at you.

“You don’t have to be gentle with me. I don’t break easy.” You leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I told you what I like.”

You straightened up and stared straight into his eyes.

He knew you were trying it again. This time he just chuckled and kissed you on the forehead.

“Alright then. Patience….”

He didn’t finish the sentence because he just realized what he was going to add to the end of it. And he knew it was true, but it would just freak you out.

He let you go and then backed toward his room as you turned around and leaned against the bar to watch him go.

-----

An hour later, Ant, Rafael and Daveed were gone and you had showered and started to pick out your outfit for the night.

You decided that less was more, so you opted for a red bandeau top and jean shorts.

Daveed’s chain was so long that you could double it up as a choker, and you thought that was appropriate for the night.

You didn’t want to look like you were trying too hard, so you threw your hair up in a messy bun and put on your gold hoop earrings.

Time in the sun had been good to you so you did minimal make-up. You surveyed your handiwork in the mirror.

You liked what you saw and if Daveed didn’t, well, it was his loss.

Despite your nerves, you reveled in the anticipation for tonight. But you also thought that you’d be okay if you just fell asleep in Daveed’s arms.

You cocked your head at your reflection.

What the hell was wrong with you? Did you want Daveed or not? Were you afraid of his dom ways or did they make you feel free? You didn’t know what the fuck was going on inside your brain.

So you just decided to go with what your body told you.

-----

“Goddam girl! If I wasn’t engaged, I would fuck you my damn self.”

You laughed at Jasmine whistling at you while Craig shook his head as you came out to them waiting on you in the living room. You put on your fanny pack and your high heeled sandals.

“Are you going to sing tonight, Jas?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not really feeling it, but I can't resist when Ant calls me up on stage. I’ll do one, maybe two.”

“Stop lying Jas. That silly grin on your face matches this bitch right here.”

You looked behind you because Craig was pointing in your direction.

“Who? Me?” The blood was draining from your face

“Don’t try it, you are already sprung on whatever Daveed did to you this afternoon. It’s over with. You might as well make wedding plans along with Jasmine.”

You shook your head, a little terrified at what Craig was saying. Jasmine and Craig were busy laughing but you were busy freaking out.

“No, it’s not like that…”

Craig looked into your eyes and saw that you were spooked.

“Okay, Lindy, I’m just kidding. Y’all just kickin it, I get it.”

He knew you were on edge. “Let’s get ready to go. I want to see a show and maybe find me someone to get sprung on .”

The mood was lightened a bit and ya’ll decided to depart.

-----

Three hours later:

You and Jasmine were turnt up close to the stage in a teeny weeny VIP section in the small club.

You had your drink in your hand and were feeling Anthony’s set. Daveed and Rafa were drinking and watching from the side of the stage.

“Why don’t you just go down there, take her back stage and kill all this tension, man.”

Rafael peeped Daveed clocking you.

Daveed grinned his shy grin at his friend.

“Nah, man. This feeling is everything.”

He made eye contact with you, winked and took a sip of his drink, sure that he looked cool even though his stomach was doing flips.

Rafa just smiled and drank some more himself, enjoying all of this playing out.

Craig was chatting some guy up at the bar and you and Jasmine were just enjoying the show.

Why do I push through the day/Like tomorrow's gonna figure it out, figure it out, figure it out/ Like someone else will figure it out, figure it out, figure it out..

You were singing louder than most of the crowd and Ant was laughing at you from the stage because you were loose and loving it. Your arms were spread out and you were swaying with the music.

Someone came up and embraced you from behind, swaying with you and you opened your eyes to see Jasmine’s face beside yours.

You grinned, turned around and started slow dancing with her, each of you singing and looking up at Anthony.

He looked over at Rafa and D. They just shook their heads.

He managed to finish the song before cracking up and said.

“Ay, where’s the bouncer, this chick is tryna steal my girl.”

Everyone looked at you when he pointed but you just flipped him off and then tried to kiss Jasmine on the cheek.

She turned her head at the last minute and you kissed her full on the lips. You two went with it and hammed it up for effect. It was a classic movie make out scene.

When you separated, Anthony was just staring at you two.

Daveed and Rafa came out on stage to get a better look and you could hear Craig shouting, “Get it, Ladies!” from the back of the club.

Ant’s eyes were wide and he said, “I think I just forgot the lyrics to all my songs.”

Everyone laughed and then he said, “But I’m having too much fun, yo, I don’t want my set to end, so let’s go “One More Hour.”

Everyone sang along for the intro and turned up for the chorus.

Let's go one more hour/ Lovin' this encounter/ Usually I'm gone now/I'm not ready/ I don't really wanna go

After that fun, Anthony called Jasmine up to the stage, and she gave you a wink as she went up.

It was so sweet watching her give him a peck on the cheek and him adjust the mic for her.

Jasmine’s voice. Was every. Thing.

You just stood in front of her on the floor as she sang on stage and you were just blown away. And when they sang together,

Cause they can write stories/ They can sing songs/But they don't make fairytales/ Sweeter than ours

You just about melted.

“Ok guys, we’re gonna take ten so my boys can get set up. Order a drink from the bar.”

Jasmine came down from the stage with you again.

“Our little smooch got Ant riled up! Zaddy gonna zick me down goot tonite!”

Jasmine was hyped and you laughed at her lust.

“Wingwoman activated!” You thought they were so cute together.

Her eyes were sparkling.

“Time to return the favor.”

Jasmine nodded her head and you looked behind you to catch Daveed checking you out.

She grabbed your hands. “Come up and sit in the wings with me!”

You knew what she was doing. “Oh no. I want to experience the show.”

“Trust. For the Boys, especially Daveed, you need up on the stage.”

You giggled, your drink and the fun getting you loose, and followed her on the stage.

Ant and Rafa approached. You couldn’t decipher the look on Anthony’s face.

“About you making out with my girl...”

He and Rafael looked at each other and Anthony broke out into a grin.

“Do it any time you like, as long as I get to watch.”

Rafa nodded vigorously as you and Jasmine broke up in laughter.

“Perv.”

You couldn’t handle Anthony’s antics tonight. Your nerves were everywhere. Rafa seemed to sense it and led you over to a stool.

“M’Lady,”

Rafael bowed and kissed your hand, keeping his eyes on you. You giggled.

“In all seriousness, though. You look amazing tonight.” His eyes were something.

“Thank you, Rafa.”

You smiled up at him, taking the fact that he was being extra smiley tonight. You could smell some of that premium PR indica.

Oh.

Rafael glanced behind you.

“Enjoy the show,” he said, before kissing your cheek and buzzing back to the mic.

Then you realized what was up.

Daveed was right there, standing behind you, radiating his heat.

"Hey.”

The subtle rich texture of his voice made the butterflies try to fly out of your throat, but you kept cool.

Daveed inhaled the scent of your hair. You were intoxicating. He didn’t need indica.

"Hey yourself."

You didn't turn around, but you could tell that he was smiling.

“I’m glad you’re right here for the set. You’ll be able to feel… the music so much more intensely.”

"Ah.”

Daveed moved even closer to you. You could feel his breath. He was leaning down near your bare shoulder and alllllmost kissing it, but instead coming so close as to cause a feeling to begin between your legs and travel up your spine to your neck which he was so close to.

The music started as he straightened up and began to say something in a low voice, meant for your ears only.

"I love what you’ve done with my chain. Looks like a choker. Beautiful. Makes me think about tonight.”

Your eyes closed, because those words were hot.

“Hmmm? What about it?”

You were trying to concentrate on Rafael hopping up and down. You were frozen to the stool, torn between wanting to hear what he was going to say and not wanting to at the same time.

"Mmmmm. About wrapping my hand around your throat and cutting off your breath while I dig out that indecision of yours. About making you so high that you forget about everything but us in that moment.”

You closed your eyes and inhaled a cleansing breath, because you felt like getting filthy. Right now. You decided to play coy.

"Maybe,” you responded. If you said too many more words, he would hear the trembling in your being. He sensed it anyway.

“Definitely,” he countered, so sure. You tried to get mad, but failed. You two remained in this crackling energy between you, even though you couldn’t see each other’s eyes.

You couldn’t stand it anymore, so you stretched and craned your head backwards to look up into his baby browns. You didn’t know it, but everyone in your crew was watching, mesmerized by the vibe between you. Y’all glowed together.

Daveed’s heart was beating an accelerated rhythm. He didn’t need to warm up with you here. Before he knew it he’d kissed you on the forehead, then jogged out on stage. He was so hyped.

“Awww!” Jasmine was smiling and clapping.

You rolled your eyes at her as the set began as she sat beside you.

“Don't front. I have never.” She looked you in the eye. “And I mean NEVER, seen D with anyone like that.”

You just shook your head. A little afraid of what she’d just said. You just pointed to the stage while she laughed at you.

——

You were very attentive as Daveed and Rafael worked the crowd. This was an entirely different side to them. You’d seen them act and seen videos of performances, but being here in person while they did music together was quite the scene.

Rafael’s virtuosity shined first. He performed “Bad Egg”, and you melted when he sang “Oxygen.” Then, Jasmine got out and helped

Jasmine helped the Boys out with “Program,” which was amazing and funny and awe inspiring. You and Anthony and Craig, who had joined you were busy jumping around and singing for the short song in the wings.

Rafa came off stage in mock outrage into your mini mosh pit. You were having a ball.

He grabbed a water bottle and raised his eyebrow at you.

“Wait for it.”

You had no idea what he was talking about.

Daveed took a swig of water and laughed into the mic. He cut his eyes over to you quickly and then back out to the audience.

“So I’m in a band called Clipping.” The crowd went wild. Daveed smiled as the opening noise of “Wriggle” came up on the sound system.

“We’re about to take a journey through some of our more ‘pop’ songs, if Clipping. songs could be called pop. That adorable fucking laugh.

And then it all changed as Daveed started spitting out words that you hadn’t noticed before tonight were highly sexual.

Is it tight enough, is it wet enough?..../You always hoped to experience domination/….ass up/ don’t move/ Don't move/ Get slapped/ Can't run/ Bring it back/ Tighten up/ Stay strapped/ Make it red/ Make it clap, clap/ Clamp that mouth shut, bounce for your boy

You tore your eyes away from him to the audience and saw that they were going crazy. You were hella impressed.

Everyone in this club knew the words or at least heavily vibed with the music.

And Daveed looked so happy, his finger indicating the cadence of the music and his smile getting wider and wider as the music crescendoed, then he started jumping and the experience was amazing. He rapped with his free hand and his whole body. He was a tall chocolate ball of energy.

The music started to transition to an all too familiar beat.

The minute Daveed spit the first line, the crowd went apeshit. He held his finger up to his lips and everyone got quiet.

Don’t move nothing/ Statue..

And this was the interactive part of the performance. Daveed jumped and moved so much that he was covered in sweat.

"Man, it's hot up here under these lights." Daveed lifted his shirt up to wipe his forehead. The crowd went crazy again.

You had never felt the urge to faint before just from a human being, but damn. You smirked as he glanced at you and ascertained your situation. He grinned, wiped his face some more and then took it completely off, throwing it toward the wings, right at you.

Everyone dove so that you were the only one in range to catch it, which you did. It was wet with his sweat and his smell and you struggled not to bring it to your face.

You trembled a bit as you stared at his sweat covered body, getting wet and just wanting to lick his abs clean.

Daveed transitioned into a medley, beginning with Work, Work,

Holler out your city if you ride for it/Let em know why you die for it…

He continued through the chorus,

“Get that work/Make that work work…”

and then transitioned to “Body and Blood” and then to “Enlacing.”

The lyrics

“Get your ass down to the floor,”

served to do just that. You were hypnotized by the rhythm, despite the subject matter, you were being seduced by Daveed’s tone and cadence.

When he turned to you for a full 10 seconds while performing, you were locked in.

He finished his set and you didn’t know how to feel.

Jealous of all the people screaming for him to bone them then and there?

Nah, you could certainly understand that.

Embarrassed that you felt like a groupie that wanted to take him back stage and suck his soul out?

Again, understandable.

You just didn’t know what to do with these feelings.

You looked over and your friends were huddled up whispering, and you were sure about you. You straightened up in the stool as Rafael and crew caught you looking. Daveed came off stage and grabbed the water bottle out of your hand. He stood there, just glistening and shit.

"I really like your thighs in those shorts."

Daveed wanted to trace the line that the shorts took across your thighs, but didn't dare do it with everyone watching. He just stared at them and thought they would look nice around his shoulders.

You flushed even hotter.

"Thanks, I get ‘em from my mama." You laughed with him. "I really like those guns." You were bold and traced a finger down his biceps. You felt his slight shiver and tried to hide a smile.

"Thanks, my Dad passed them down." He laughed again.

“Genetics, man. Thank God for genetics.” You were serious.

“Amen.”

Daveed lifted the bottle to you in a toast before taking another swig. He offered you some. He looked into your eyes and you knew he wasn't offering you just a drink.

"Yes please. I'm very thirsty. Sir."

You stared back at him. He held the water bottle to your lips, praying that his hand held steady while you tilted your head back and drank.

Daamnnn! Daveed thought. He wanted to give you something else to drink, but he still had work to do. Rafael was there to remind him too.

Rafa cleared his throat and nodded his head toward the stage. Daveed nodded in response and grabbed his t-shirt. You grasped to hold it fast before you realized that it was his and let it go with a little laugh. You watched Daveed’s body as he put his shirt back on and he winked yet again before he turned to go on stage.

Your panties were ruined. But you thought he knew that.

Jasmine came up beside you. “He did that shit on purpose,” you whispered.

Jas laughed and said, “Most definitely.”

You were doomed.

----

You thoroughly enjoyed Daveed and Rafa’s set and even joined them on stage for “Microdosin.”

As soon as they thanked the crowd, Daveed grabbed your hand and led you backstage to the dressing room. It was standard fare, as you looked around, and you went to the mirror to check your lipstick as you watched Daveed lock the door.

You turned around and leaned against the make up mirror counter, watching as he took his shirt off again. You just stared.

The sight of you standing there with those fucking wide, innocent looking eyes got Daveed even harder than he already was. He was rock hard the entire time during that last set, and he knew he gave a great performance.

“I just…”

He looked you up and down, then he moved quickly and grabbed your waist as you leaned back, hands bracing yourself on the counter. Daveed looked at you hungrily and even licked his lips. Like a wolf.

“I just can’t wait to get you back to the beach house.”

Daveed’s thumbs were on your belly, and as his hands moved up, they dug under your top, and not gently. You gasped as his thumbs insistently reached your nipples and pressed. You put your hands on his bare chest and there you felt beating a mile a minute. You looked at your right hand, which was over his heart.

“Feel what you do to me?”

You knew he wasn’t talking about his erection, which was pinning you against the makeup mirror. You looked up into his eyes and saw the emotion there. You opened your mouth to speak and he kissed you.

When you separated, breathless, Daveed was resting his forehead against yours.

“I want to take my time with you, but right now, I…”

You pecked him on the lips again.

“Daveed. Fuck me...now.” You started moving your hip against his, causing him to respond in kind.

"If I do that, I'm going to tear that ass up..." He planted a kiss below your earlobe.

You rubbed your palms against his nipples, rubbing in circles. You felt him shudder.

You could feel it in the pit of your stomach. "You promise?"

You looked him fully in the eye. Daveed reached down and hiked up your thigh so that he could feel the warmth at your core. He palmed your cheek and you turned your head into it, giving him a kiss. He put his thumb into your mouth.

“Just… wait… shit… suck… damn…” Daveed almost lost it as your lips enveloped his thumb and your tongue swirled around it. You sucked, hard and your saliva began dripping down his hand.

There was no logic in Daveed’s head. Only sex. He pulled both hands away from you and began fumbling with his belt. He grabbed his dick and started stroking, using your saliva to lubricate.

“Fuck, Lindy, I need…”

All you could do was stare. It was fucking BIG. Long and thick and everything you dreamed. The juicy precum you saw made you thirsty.

You put your hand on it to gather some with your own thumb and brought it up to suck. You closed your eyes as you tasted him. You moaned and then pulled off your top.

“Please, please, fuck me Daveed.” You were panting, your lips open. Daveed wanted to insert various body parts, his finger, his tongue, his cock.

“Shit, Lindy. I don’t have any condoms here. I purposely left them at the house…”

You smiled at him and started unbuttoning your shorts.

“You didn’t listen to me earlier. I can’t have kids, D. And I haven’t had sex since, you know who. But…”

You pulled down your shorts, turned around and presented your panty-clothed ass to him.

“I don’t know if you want…”

Daveed stared, practically drooling, still stroking himself and now, pulling your panties to the side and slapping his dick on your ass. He looked at your reflection in the mirror, grabbed his chain and pulled you upright so that he could speak in your ear. He pinched your nipple while he stroked up and down your slit from behind as he spoke.

“I want to hear you scream." His voice in your ear was deep and sexy.

You closed your eyes and moaned softly as Daveed reached in and inserted first one finger, then two inside you. Shit you were tight. He looked down at the sight of his fingers inside you.

"Nah, you gotta see this. This shit is beautiful.” His voice was so sweet, then it completely changed. “So keep your fucking eyes open.”

He pulled your hips back as he used both thumbs to open you up as he advanced the head of his cock to your cunt. It met the breach and he pushed tentatively, and when you both felt that he was thicker than an easy entrance, you both sighed. He retreated.

“No! Please please please please please! I can take it. I promise I’ll take it all!”

Daveed grunted. “Begging already.” He sucked his teeth. “ Lindy, we have such a long way to go.”

With a forceful push, he entered you. And it stretched painfully at first, but after that first split second, the transcendent feeling of him inside your wet canal, molding you to him like a glove, made you want to cry. And when he started moving...

“FUCK! This isn’t supposed to feel this good. Shit, Lindy…” you could feel his cock pounding inside you and you fully agreed with it.

“Yesssss! Daveeeeddd!”

Daveed started speeding up and going deeper and deeper, pushing your head down to the counter and pulling your hip back to meet his thrust and you began to scream when he started meeting your cervix.

“Lindy, don’t judge me by this first encounter. Because, I have to...” He grunted, because as he started to tell you, he started to feel himself losing control. “I have to get this…” He moaned. “Shit, I NEED to get this nut.”

“Fill me up Daveed. I want your cum.”

With that, he slapped your ass cheek hard, and that delicious pain added to your pleasure as he started fucking you like he hated you. You threw it back and Daveed went crazy.

The mirror started banging against the wall.

You were lost as your screams and moans were surely able to be heard by anyone who would listen. But neither of you cared.

He pulled your hair and forced you to look at him in the mirror. He felt himself about to bust, but he wasn’t going out like that.

“You gonna give me what I need? When I tell you to?” Your eyes were barely open and you couldn’t speak, but you nodded as much as his grip on your hair allowed.

“Good Girl.” Your pussy fluttered around him even more at that; he felt it and moaned.

And I don’t care how good it feels you better not come until I tell you to.”

“Fuck!” was all you could say.

“You like being a good girl for me?”

“Mmhmmhhmmhm!” You couldn’t form words. Daveed slapped your ass again. “Use your words, Linden.”

“I-I-I love being a Good Girl for you Sir.”

“Mmmmm You gonna take all this cum I have for you and wear it until we get back like a good girl?”

“Y-yes, Sir. I’m going to keep all your cum inside me Sir.”

“Good Girl. Good God.”

Your whole body felt like it was tingling and about to explode. Your legs were shaking.

Daveed reached around with his long arm and found your clit, the minute he pressed, your body convulsed.

“Ah, ah, ah….mmmm.” Daveed was trying to stop you, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“Shit Lindy. Cum. Fucking Cum. Right gotdamn now.”

You shattered around his cock as he pumped into you, sending streams of cum against your cervix. That sensation and the fact that Daveed didn’t stop circling your clit prolonged your orgasm for a good while.

You collapsed on the counter, as Daveed continued to stroke softly, making sure his cum stayed inside of you. He watched himself go in and out, still semi hard, and rubbed his thumbs along the column of your spine as he blew air on it to cool you off.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

He bent down and kissed your shoulder near your neck, causing you to arch your back at the sensation. Must be your spot. He took note and then slowly pulled out, pulling your thong back to cover your pussy. He bent down to take a look at the moisture seeping through the material and he smiled at it.

Daveed pulled his pants up and went into the bathroom to wash his hands and came out to see you dressed and adjusting yourself in the mirror. Your eyes met and you smiled shyly at him. You turned around as he approached.

“I am going to judge you by what just happened, because that shit was amazing.” You smiled up at him and Daveed was blinded for a minute, then smiled back down at you.

“You good?” he nodded downward.

“Yeah, gonna be a little uncomfortable keeping all of it in, but I will try.”

Daveed’s expression darkened. “You better do it. Or else.”

Your look was mischievous in response. “Or else what?”

“Don’t be a little brat.”

“Why not?”

“If you're going to act like a little brat, then I’m going to treat you like a little brat.”

“How’s that?”

“Don’t push it Lindy.”

You just grinned at him as he tried to keep a stern look on his face. You were going to be his dom downfall. He was too soft for you. But you were making him hard again.

He caught his breath while you washed your hands.

What the fuck was he going to do? Daveed was in love with you.

------

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