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#But really this place isn't short of content.
ozzgin · 3 months
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The wonderful wizard Ozz. I have had this concept stuck in my head like a worm!
Could you imagine a Darling escaping from their Yan, not to run but just to feel the rain on their skin? I've been consuming this prompt like a heroin addict and I can't seem to get enough!
If I were to expand your prompt, I quite like the idea of a Yandere that can't really go full yandere because Reader is just too willing. He loves yandere content and can very much relate, but none of the escalations can happen if, well, the object of his obsessive affection doesn't protest in the first place. Is it too far fetched from what you'd imagined? Let me elaborate:
Yandere! Male x Willing! Reader
AKA: When you want to be a Yandere, but your Darling unfortunately cooperates.
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The Yandere has been stalking Darling for months. Journal entries, walls plastered with photos (and the occasional creepshots), recordings. He just can't get enough of his Darling. He loves everything about you and can barely function throughout the day, fantasizing about your life together.
Enough is enough and he finally decides to make you his. He's been consuming media of similar tropes, with obsessed men pleading for a chance and having to force their way in because of rejection and fear. He's prepared for everything. Your tears, your trembling voice, your hands pushing him away. He finds you, approaches you and confesses his feelings, knuckles white as he grips his fists in anticipation. Your eyes widen for a moment, before narrowing in a smile. "I had no idea! Sure, I'll go out with you." Huh? Wait. This wasn't...this wasn't in the plan. Somehow he'd been certain you'd refuse. He must've mumbled the last part out loud, because you respond with "Why would I say no?"
A very good point indeed. You will change your mind, however, once you learn the extent of his love. You're holding his hand and following along as he takes you to his place, completely and utterly unaware of what you're about to witness. He can't truly be your boyfriend if he has to hide his very nature, after all. You might be disgusted, frightened, offended. He can already hear your screams, demanding explanations. It's all out of love. "It's okay if you don't understand", he mumbles to himself, watching your frozen body as you gaze into his room. You take a couple of steps towards the nearest wall, tracing the hundreds of images with your fingers. "Wow. You never mentioned being into photography", you remark, impressed. "It's like an exhibition! But...you might have to work on your angles", you blurt out, a little embarrassed, pointing to one of the creepshots. "This isn't very flattering. Did you take it in a hurry? It makes my legs look disproportionate." He can only stare, taken aback. "S-sorry" is all he manages.
Okay, but don't imagine your life will continue as usual. You've only seen a glimpse of his adoration. Now that you're officially dating, he cannot allow anyone else to have access to you. You have to understand, he cannot protect you properly if you're not under his watch all the time. As much as he cherishes you, he will have to be rough if needed. That's what he tells himself as he shoves the required tools in the trunk of his car, speeding towards your apartment. Once there, he fidgets on the sofa, considering his speech. You seem to be just as uneasy - perhaps you're predicting what's to come? - casting your eyes down and giving short answers. "I think you should move in with me." He states solemnly. You gasp and throw a hand over your mouth, and tears quickly well in the corner of your eyes. "How did you...how did you know?" You say between sobs. Huh? "I didn't want to burden you with my problems, seeing as we just started dating...but my landlord won't renew the lease. I was so scared I'd be homeless."
He clicks his tongue. This isn't very yandere, more like the average couple experience. You bring the final moving box to his car, fitting it in the trunk. "By the way, what's with all the rope?" you ask. "Just move it aside", he sighs. How can he explain it? He's been training, sweating and bleeding for a marathon and right before the whistle, they handed him the first prize. His muscles are aching for the sprint that never happened. Of course he's grateful to have you at last, but somehow he feels like he hasn't proven his dedication properly. You just don't get it, do you? How sickening his love is for you.
As the days pass, he eases into his role of...how does one even call it? Pseudo-captor? When you found his journal, you blushed and confessed how no one before him put this amount of effort into knowing you. All the male contacts from your phone vanishing? It was about time you cleaned up your acquaintances and it was nice of him to help. The AirTags he's hidden in your bags and pockets? You appreciate his safety concerns. Nowadays, with all these perverts freely walking the streets, you can never be too sure.
One morning he wakes up to an empty bed. He jolts up, dazed. Could it be his wish was finally granted? You must've gotten tired of him and tried to escape. Oh, silly little Darling love. You should've known there's no more walking out once you said yes. He checks his phone and pounces out, ready for the hunt. As he sprints along the street, he finds you suspiciously close to his home. Not very smart of you to...what are you even doing? Your hands are raised up, fingers fanned out under the pouring rain. You notice his presence and turn to face him with a wide, childish grin. "I haven't done this since I was a child. When was the last time you felt the rain on your skin?" Only now it occurs to him he's been running in this downpour and his clothes are soaked. He was too focused on finding you.
"I thought you escaped", he almost whispers. "Escape? From what?" You tilt your head in confusion. He places his cold, large hands over your cheeks. "Do you comprehend I'm very much obsessed with you? I'm not joking around. You're never, ever leaving me. You're stuck here forever. I mean it. I really do. I'd rather kill you with my own hands than let you go. Because I love you." You take a moment to admire the intricate patterns of his irises, pupils dilated in a spiraling madness. By the end of his erratic oration, he's panting and digging his nails into your skin.
"I know."
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enha-cafe · 5 months
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I <3 NERDS (c.s)
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PAIRING: nerd! soobin x afab! reader SUMMARY: just y/n not expecting nerd! soobin to be a sex god inspired by this very long thought with @gyuthmics WARNINGS: smut, basically no plot, afab! reader, switch! reader, dom! soobin, big dick! soobin, oral (m rec.), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie (please it's soobin i can't not include it), usage of the words "slut", "baby", "good girl", snowballing, literally like one spank WORD COUNT: 1.7k
you thought playing around with the cute little nerd in your class would be funny. he was absolutely harmless, you thought, blushing whenever you made eye contact with him and always watching anime in the back of class. all you wanted was to make him your partner for the project and watch him get flustered at every moment. so now you're left wondering: is this really happening? are you really getting the best dick of your life from some guy who has openly said his favorite anime is bunny girl senpai? how did he manage to have you crying and screaming his name?
you remember how his cheeks and ears reddened when you invited him over to your place to "work on the project," when you just wanted to see how long it'd take before he'd beg for your pussy.
oh, how you've missed having someone to play with. you wore a low-cut tank and shorts, leaving little to the imagination. gently patting the spot on your bed, inviting him to sit beside you. relishing the way he stutters each time he looks to talk to you. constantly looking up at him with doe eyes, brushing your shoulder against his, and pushing your breasts into his arms. how badly you're just waiting for him to snap. look at you through those overgrown bangs and grovel for you to give him a sweet release.
he did break, just not in the way you were hoping.
it was a swift motion, with soobin taking you by the wrists and pinning you down. "well, someone is acting like a little slut today." never would you have thought this absolute nerd would have you at such a loss for words. those words make you have to take a pause and leave your mouth slightly agape. "what's wrong? cat got your tongue?" he says this, cocking his head to the side and chuckling.
you're completely lost as to who the man in front of you is; this isn't the nerd you were toying with all day. this is some sort of demon you decided to summon. "c'mon, baby, use your words. i know you want this; you've been messing with me all day. don't back out now." he says, staring into your eyes, and all you can do is let out a broken please. "that's what i like to hear," he says right before planting a kiss on your lips.
you're needy for him, and soobin can't help but chuckle. the way you try to grind down on his knee between your legs, he thinks it's cute how you're slowly becoming putty in his hands. he wants to—no, he needs to ruin you. he's having to hold himself back, and you can tell. for now, he's content with just the taste of you. moving his lips from yours to your neck, you can't help but let out a moan and squirm more. "you're absolutely insatiable; tell me what you want." you're not sure how, but he's already managed to make your head dizzy. "i need you—i need you inside me, please, soobin." you can feel him smile into your neck as you plead. "of course, baby, but i need something from you first." he says letting your wrists free and using his other hand to unbutton his jeans. "get on your knees and suck my cock like the slut you are."
you feel like a woman possessed by how quickly you get on your knees for him. staring up at him in anticipation and hoping he won't notice as you rub your thighs together. when he pulls his pants down, it almost hits you in the face, and you can't help but stare. he's huge. "soobin, you're going to break me." he nearly throws his head back and laughs, "i thought sluts like you were supposed to like big cocks. c'mon, don't be shy now. suck." his order sends a jolt of electricity down to your core.
opening your mouth, you try to take as much of him as possible, and what you can't, you wrap your hands around. bobbing your head up and down his cock, your eyes never leave him. the way his breathing becomes gradually more labored as he groans. his eyes are hungry as he looks at you. "good girl, i knew you could take me," he tells you, and you can feel your walls clench around nothing, and you can't help but moan around him. it's enough to make him curse and grab the back of your head. you can feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as he pushes your head down. feeling his head hit the back of your throat and his cock twitch. you barely have a second before you feel hot cum spill down your throat.
soobin pulls you off his cock and places a hand under your chin. forcing you to stare up at him through those thick-rimmed glasses and overgrown fringe. he pulls you up to him and forces his lips on yours. swapping his cum between you before you finally decide to swallow it. "you're nasty," he says before giving you a light spank, making you let out a yelp. he grabs you by the hand and guides you back to the bed.
his eyes are blown with lust, and suddenly your clothes feel too hot for your skin. you're telling him to pull off your shorts as you tear your top off, and you're left in only your underwear. soobin is quick to start marking and playing with your breasts, telling you how perfect they are. feeling his right hand on your clothed core, you can't help but grind against it. he notices the way you grind on his hand and moves your panties to the side. watching how drenched you are, he decides to dip two of his long fingers inside you, and it has you reeling. 
feeling his fingers inside your gummy walls is enough to have you screaming for him. he reaches places your pathetic fingers could never reach. he's so mean and fast with them too; the noises made by them are so lewd, you'd be embarrassed if you weren't enjoying it so much. you think you can't get enough of his fingers until he uses his thumb to circle your clit. the stimulation is so great that he has you chanting his name. his name is dripping like honey from your lips as you try your hardest not to cum. soobin knows you're close; how couldn't he? with your walls fluttering against his fingers and your thighs trembling. "it's okay, baby, you can let go for me," and it's almost as though that was the final piece of a puzzle. you're suddenly seeing stars, and your walls are convulsing around him as you cum.
"is that all you can take, or do you want more?" he asks you as if he doesn't already know your answer. without a second thought, you're screaming once more for him, "please, soobin, i need you inside of me—going insane—need your big cock inside me." you're so needy and desperate for him, it's borderline pathetic. "okay, let me just grab a condom," he says, going to get up, but you grab his arm, pulling him back in to stop him. "no, i need you raw." such a simple sentence, but it's enough to make his cock twitch. "you really are insatiable," and his lips dive back into yours.
as you kiss, you can feel him lining himself up with you, his large cockhead teasing your opening. moaning into the kiss and telling him to put it in already, only making him smile against your lips. when he slips into you, you swear you see heaven. the stretch like nothing you've ever felt before; he's so big, and he's already hitting you so deep. when he bottoms out, you're already grinding against him, begging him to move. soobin is more than happy to oblige, digging his fingers into your hips and slowly pulling out of you, only to ram back in.
you think he'd be rough with just that one thrust, but he continues to be hard and fast. as he thrusts his cock inside of you, you can't help but stare. he makes your head fuzzy, and all you can do is lay there and moan. feeling him lay his hand over your stomach and press down has you clenching around him, making him twitch deep inside you. "god, you're so tight, and you take me so well, like you were made for me," he says. all you can do is moan at his praises, making you teeter closer to the edge.
his groans sound like heaven, his glasses are foggy, and his fringe slightly hangs over them. you don't think you've ever seen anyone look hotter. you don't realize how long you've been staring until he says something like, "see something you like?" and in that moment, you realize you're drunk on him, and you don't ever want to get sober. he chuckles and gives you a smirk right before playing with your clit again. "i can feel the way you're clenching down on me; I know you're close." he's acting almost as if he isn't close, too. "please, soobin, i need to cum—need you to fill me up too, please, soobin." you punctuate your words by wrapping your legs around his waist.
his thrusts become sloppier, and his head falls into the crook of your neck. feeling his hot breath as he curses. "cum for me, y/n" it's not a request but an order. your legs tighten around him as you cum, locking him in as you let out loud moans while your body is wracked with pleasure. you barely get a second to recover before soobin's hot cum floods your insides. there's so much, and you don't think you've ever felt fuller than you do in this moment. after he slips out, you can feel his cum starting to dribble out of your hole.
your head is fuzzy, and you're barely coherent when soobin tells you he's going to grab something to clean you up. however, even with the burn in your legs, gasping for air, and cum spilling from your hole. you can't help but think there's no way this absolute sex god of a man is a damn nerd.
but god, you love nerds.
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perma tag list: @hoonslutt @moonlighthoon @love4heejayke @jouliejihan @majestyjun @yizhoutv
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I Got You Babe - LN
Request from @tommienoir - lando takes reader with him to karting in bahrain. She watches from the stands as he films with the 2019 rookies. He's tired (inspired by the clip where he looks really sleepy as he watches oscar kart) and reader notices and goes to him to ask if he wants to leave. Reader run her hands through his curls and he gives her a loopy smile. But eventually they leave and lando falls asleep on her lap on the way to the hotel (cue cute fluff)
PS I know what clip you mean, but I like the gif of all three drivers so I wanted to use it for the image.
Also it's short, but I hope that's ok.
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Y/n is like anyone else who is a fan of F1, she looks the 2019 rookies content. But recreating a karting race, y/n is rooting for them.
They spends quite a while bickering about qualifying before finally getting on with the race.
It's fairly obvious who is playing into the entertainment (Alex), who is there to just win not caring about entertainment (George) and who has the worst engine (Lando).
The race itself has everyone laughing as they watch from the sidelines. George's engine does him the favour, but Lando and Alex lose interest in playing fair with their disadvantage and begin cutting entire parts of the track only adding to the entertainment.
Lando gets the win and points at y/n shouting "this win is for you baby". Y/n just laughs shaking her head before they begin to bicker about who actually won with George calling for penalties.
Lando is generally the quiet one when it comes to the three rookies. Maybe because he's the youngest, or just because that's how he is. But when Alex and George begin to bicker about George's engine, Lando gives up and moves over to y/n.
"It's going to be a late one." Lando mumbles earning a smile from the young woman.
"Yeah, it's looking that way, isn't it?" Y/n smiles before she kisses him softly. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah...when Alex went over the gravel it kicked a rock up and hit my neck." Lando mumbles making her frown before almost aggressively pushing his head to expose his neck.
"Lando...that looks sore." Y/n grimaces then sighing softly while he hums wringing his nose a little bit.
He's eventually called back over to them, giving her a quick kiss before he takes off and y/n sighs feeling like there's something off with the man. He just seems...off and like he's not really in the mood to be here.
They finish up and Lando ends up moving to watch the McLaren team in their bonding karting session with Oscar. Y/n sighs as she moved quickly to jog over to the post that Lando has perched himself on.
"Hey, baby." Y/n smiles handing him his water bottle. "Are you-Oh-"
Lando places the bottle down and pulls her close and nuzzling his face into her tummy through her top.
"Baby?" Y/n frowns running her hand through his hair.
"I'm so fucking tired." Lando groans earning a small smile before she laughs and continues playing with his hair. "I'm not leaving till the team wrap up."
"I think they wouldn't mind if you wanted to leave early. They've seen you." Y/n tries since Lando is never really like this. His mood can shift sometimes but never because he's so tired that he just feels it like this. "Come on, there's no point in getting all caught up in it. Let's get you to the hotel."
Lando sighs but nods and follows her from the perch, heading to the team that isn't out on track. They exchange goodbyes and Lando tells everyone to enjoy the rest of the evening before they head off.
There's someone else driving them so Lando takes the opportunity of lying his head in y/n's lap as they drive. Her hand automatically goes to his head her gaze mesmerised by watching herself play with his curly strands of hair.
When he relaxes down against her, she smiles knowing he's without a doubt fallen asleep on top of her. Especially with the sensation of his hair being played with. She might as well have just pressed an off button on him.
Y/n sighs looking at him for a moment as they pull up. As much as she'd love to have his ability to just pick him up and carry him like he does with her when she falls asleep, she can't.
"Lando, baby. We're at the hotel." She states moving her hand to rub his arm a little thankfully stirring him and successfully waking him up from his sleep.
She does manage to drag him from the car, thanking the driver and any time that they stop, like waiting for the lift and waiting for her to open the door. Lando is leaning on her from behind, nuzzling his face into her neck at any opportunity before she finally guides him to sit down on the bed.
"Alright, rockstar. Let's get you ready for bed." Y/n smiles placing her palm on his forehead when he goes to lean forward and nuzzling into her stomach again, instead pushing him back so he's lying on the bed with only his legs hanging off of the bed as she reaches her hands to undo his jeans.
"Well I'm awake now." Lando states with a small but still very tired smirk.
"Perv."
"You're the one undressing me."
"Yeah, and you're the one too tired to actually get excited about it." Y/n laughs finally getting his jeans off with a couple yanks then sitting him up and pulling his t-shirt off. "Alright, just need to brush your teeth and then we can curl up...you can go to sleep. I' going to find something to binge watch for a bit."
"Not tired?" Lando frowns looking almost confused as to how she's not tired.
"Not yet. But I wasn't karting and bickering with other people." Y/n laughs then moving to kiss him lightly. "Come on, stinky."
"Stinky?" Lando snorts as she turns for him to follow only for her to have her ass slapped.
"Ah, Lando." Y/n giggles making a grab for both his hands to prevent any further smacks.
"We'll have a quick shower since I'm so stinky."
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03
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empty-movement · 4 months
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Welcome to Something Eternal: A Website Forum in 2023 wtf lmao
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It's 2023, and a single belligerent rich guy destroyed one of the primary focal points of uh...global communication. Tumblr is, shockingly, kinda thriving despite the abuse it gets from its owners, but that I will call the iconic refusal of Tumblr users to let Tumblr get in the way of their using Tumblr. Reddit killed its API, removing the functionality of mobile apps that made it remotely readable (rip rif.) Discord, our current primary hangout, has made countless strange choices lately that indicate it has reached the summit of its usability and functionality, and can only decline from here as changes get made to prepare for shareholders. (NOTE: WROTE THIS POST BEFORE THEIR MOBILE "REDESIGN" LMAO)
The enshittification is intense, and it's coming from every direction. Social media platforms that felt like permanent institutions are instead slowly going to let fall fallow incredible amounts of history, works of art, thought, and fandoms. It kinda sucks!
A couple years ago, I posted about a new plan with a new domain, to focus on the archiving of media content, as I saw that to be the fatal weakness of the current ways the internet and fandoms work. Much has happened since to convince me to alter the direction of those efforts, though not abandon them entirely.
Long story short? We are launching a fucking website forum. In 2023.
If you remember In the Rose Garden, much about Something Eternal will be familiar. But this has been a year in the making, and in many ways it's far more ambitious than IRG was. We have put money on this. The forum is running on the same software major IT and technology businesses use, because I don't want the software to age out of usability within five years. It has an attached gallery system for me to post content to, including the Chiho Saito art collection. It has a profile post system that everyone already on the forum has decided is kinda like mini Twitter? But it is, fundamentally, a website forum, owned and run and moderated by us. We are not web devs. But we have run a website on pure spite and headbutting code for over twenty years, and we have over a decade of experience maintaining social spaces online, both on the OG forum, and on our Discord. Better skilled people with far more time than we have can and will build incredible alternatives to what is collapsing around us. But they're not in the room right now. We are. And you know what? Maybe it's time to return to a clunkier, slower moving, more conversation focused platform.
You're not joining a social media platform with the full polish of dozens of devs and automated moderation. Things might break, and I might need time to fix them. The emojis and such are still a work in progress. Because e-mails no longer route in reasonable normal ways, the sign-up process instead happens within the software, and has to be approved by mods. Design and structure elements may change. Etc. The point being, that the forum isn't finished, but it is at a place where I feel like I can present it to people, and it's people I need to help direct what functions and things will be in this space. You all will shape its norms, its traditions, its options...choices I could try to make now, but really...they're for us to create as a group! But the important stuff? That's there. Now let's drive this baby off the damn lot already!
Come! Join us!!
PS. As always, TERFs and Nazis need not apply.
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laudthingcat · 1 year
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JJK// Your top lifts up while you sleep pt.2
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Characters: Gojo Satoru, Choso Kamo
Tags: nsfw content, somnophilia, cnc
Part 2 of the series!! I really loved how the first part turned out so i want to continue it 💕 You can read part one here ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ
Note: it’s been over a year since i posted this and i am growing tired of all the comments from blank blogs and blogs that belong to minors attacking me for making a fictional character fuck another fictional character in their sleep in a fictional story. Grow the fuck up and learn not to fucking read a story if you dont like the tags?? To everyone else who knows how to differentiate fiction from reality, i love you pookies <3
Masterlist
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Gojo: After another week away from you because of his work, he was finally excited to get back home to you. It was past midnight when he entered the apartment so he tried his best to be as quiet as possible since he was absolutely sure you were already asleep, and he was right. Entering the bedroom he saw you peacefully sleeping while hugging his pillow. He smiled to himself knowing that you missed him as much as he missed you. Making his way towards the bed, he could see you better, easily noticing this time that your top was almost completely rolled up and that you were not wearing any shorts at all. His face lit up since he really missed all of you. Taking a seat on the bed next to you, he leaned in and started leaving soft kisses on your exposed shoulder, slowly moving lower and lower, until he reached your thighs. God, he loved your thighs. Everything about them was perfect. Giving them a soft bite, he chuckled the moment you squeezed your thighs together. It was always a sign that you were getting horny and he knew it.
He had to check it so he slightly moved your panties aside, just enough for his hand to make its way inside of them. Using his middle finger he caressed your pussy before inserting it and a second one inside of you. Just as he thought, you were already wet and ready for a good pounding. So not wasting any more time, he got rid of his clothes and placed himself on top of you. After stroking his already erect cock a couple times, he lined it under your pussy. Grabbing a hold of your hip, he started moving. In between soft whimpers, he quietly laughed because he knew you’d get angry at him if you were awake since you absolutely hate being teased. You took him by surprise when you squeezed your thighs together once more, making him almost cum on the spot. Embarrassed, he cursed the fact that he was so excited, so he quickened the pace, knowing for sure that he won’t last for much longer. Not much longer after, he entered your pussy and pushing as far in as possible, he came inside of you.
Leaning in once more, he placed a tired kiss on your forehead. "A little warm surprise for tomorrow morning"
Choso: Waking up in the middle of the night isn't something uncommon for Choso. He's been struggling with insomnia since he can remember. What he'd usually do is stay in bed and watch you sleep while waiting for the morning to come. This particular night tho it was a bit different. When he woke up you were no longer in his arms. You were sleeping on your back, with your legs conveniently opened and your top no longer covering your abdomen and chest. The sight made him hard on the spot and there was nothing he wanted to do more than touch you. He hesitated at first, thinking that it wouldn't be ok for him to do so, even tho, as he clearly remembers, you did talk about this before, and you ensured him that you are absolutely fine and actually looking forward to that happening at some point. Making up his mind, he changed his position, now sitting next to you instead of laying down.
Being sure that you want that as much as he does, he went straight for your chest. Still very careful with his touches so that you wouldn't wake up, he cupped one of your tits and started squeezing and playing with it while devouring the other one with his mouth, all while rubbing his knee against your clothed pussy. Your tits were so soft, he could never get enough of them. But there was something he was even more excited about. The thought of filling you up with his cum from coming inside of you as many times and he wants without you even knowing was getting him on a whole different level of excitement.
He did just as he said. He came inside of you until you were full. He made you come multiple times too. He even managed to fall back asleep, too exhausted to actually stay awake as usual. When you woke up you were very excited to tell him about the dream you had, to which he paid full attention. He's found something else to do from now on when his insomnia kicks in.
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Note: I haven't wrote anything in over a year so i dunno if i still have it but oh well what never stopped was me being horny so i hope you enjoy it 🫶🏻
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bby-deerling · 5 months
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pslpslspld an sfw (suggestive if possible🤠) law, Sanji, ace, corazon, zoro x short F!reader? (as a short as Luffy Ig.. it's already short for them isn't it) you can add whoever you want it's ok or just one of them🙏
cora is like a 2 baby giraffes tall but ok
awe, super cute request! hope it's okay that these are short lil' headcanons!
one piece men x short fem!reader (suggestive content, mdni!)
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law
loves to loom over you like the lanky cryptid that he is.  he's always sneaking around in your shadows and towering behind you.
will quietly hug you from behind and place his chin on your head!  you’re his favorite headrest.
likes pinning you underneath him—makes him feel like he’s a big cat who’s caught a tiny piece of prey. (like a cat, he also loves to play with his food…)
sanji
you being so small makes him feel so masculine, it plays into his urge to be your protector.  he can’t fight the overwhelming feeling of wanting to scoop you up and take care of you, even if you’re perfectly capable of handling yourself.
tug on his tie and pull him down to kiss you and he’s putty in your hands!
his go-to move to seduce you is to back you into the kitchen counter, tower over you, and go in for the kiss as he grabs your hips!
ace
calls you all kinds of pet names (shortstack, tiny, etc.)!
loves to put his hat on you, you're his tiny lil’ cowgirl for sure!
manhandles you all the time—he is not afraid to toss you around, and enjoys how easy it is to maneuver you how he wants… (not that you’re complaining!)
corazon
will put you on his shoulder.  this is slightly precarious for when he inevitably trips and falls.  regularly checks to make sure you’re still up there…
loves using his huge hands to roam all over your body…(his fingers !!?! omg…)
zoro
loves to snuggle with you while napping, especially because you’re small.  sometimes chopper will join and fall asleep in your arms too, making you all look like a goofy set of russian nesting dolls.
will lift you up and carry you all the time, especially when you’ve been walking around on an island for a while and have no idea where you are.
he will melt into absolute goop if you take the reins.  seeing you sitting on top of him, trying to tame him despite the fact that you’re so tiny really turns him on.
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cupid-styles · 6 days
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golf (sugar daddy h)
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word count: 1.3k
content warnings: spicy but no smut, dirty talk, degradation, exhibitionism if you squint
sugar daddy h masterlist | main masterlist
talk to me
. . .
Mia doesn't care about golf. 
Not once in her life has she ever thought it was a fascinating sport. There are some sports, like hockey or baseball, that, at the very least, seem hot, if not a little attractive, but golf isn't one of those. 
And of course, Harry loves to golf.
It's nothing against him, really. If she's being honest, in her eyes, golf is a rich man's sport. Since they started seeing each other months ago, Harry has always made it a point to go golfing at least once a week. He has a membership to a country club nearby and either goes by himself, with his friends, or takes business partners there, where they spend the day drinking and hitting balls and whatever else wealthy people do at country clubs.
Mia wouldn't know because she's never gone and, quite frankly, she never wants to go. 
She adores Harry. She really, truly does, but being a frequent attender of the country club to play such a silly, boring sport just serves as another class barrier between them. Harry grew up going to golf camp, for crying out loud! Mia spent her summers working at the local ice cream shop, where she got paid $7 an hour to get yelled at by angry parents because she was only allowed to let their kids taste three flavors before they had to buy something.
So when Harry asks if she wants to spend her Saturday golfing with him at the club, she tries to come up with a million excuses as to why she can't. But because he's him, and he has a pretty face and a soothing voice and he threw in the prospect of spoiling her with a massage at the spa after they finished their game, she can't find it in her to say no. 
Harry has a business dinner the night before so Mia sleeps at her own place, which she's kind of surprised with, to be honest. (She anticipated him asking her to stay over so she didn't have a chance to get out of it.) Even despite the text he sent her at 11:40 pm to let her know that he got home safely (that's basically 2 am in Harry time), he shows up to her house in his golf clothes at 9 am on the dot, breakfast and coffee in hand. 
Mia has to physically drag herself out of bed to let him in, a scowl on her face, even though he went out of his way to go to her favorite bagel shop. 
"Morning, grumpy," he greets cheekily, smushing a kiss to her cheek. He doesn't even bother toeing his shoes off like he normally does, instead giving her bum a soft pat when she turns back around, "We have reservations at the club for 10, so you should go get dressed. You can eat in the car."
"Are you sure you want me to go?" Mia asks, and Harry has to ignore the slight hopefulness to her tone, "I've never even played golf before, I don't think I'll be very good—"
"It's not about being good, honey, I just want to spend the day with you. Show you off, y'know?" he leans forward to press a kiss to her temple before ducking down to catch her ear. "Now be good and go get dressed."
He doesn't catch the narrowing of her eyes as she reluctantly heads back to her bedroom, where she grabs the stupid golf outfit he insisted on buying her for this very occasion. She told him she was fine with wearing leggings and a tee-shirt, but he explained to her that there was a certain etiquette that came with golf, which included clothing. (Like Mia said, it's a rich man's sport.) So he bought her a short little skirt and a workout top and, if she's being frank, she's not sure if it's not more for him than it is for the game itself. 
She tried it on a few days ago when he brought it over and she batted at his chest when she saw the length of the skirt on her — unlike those trendy workout skorts that had spandex shorts underneath, the pleats of the one Harry purchased barely went down to the tops of her thighs. With a grumble, she said she'd just wear boyshorts to make sure no one "saw the goods."
But now that she's getting dressed for their golf day, she thinks she has a better idea. 
. . . 
Mia sucks at golf.
Harry keeps trying to encourage her and help her, but they're on hole 8 of 18, and she's exhausted. It's warm, she's sweaty, and Harry's beating her ass in the game. (What else would you expect from someone who spent their summer vacations playing every day?) 
"You got this, baby," he says, giving her waist a small squeeze as they approach hole nine. She rolls her eyes from behind her sunglasses, rolling out her wrist in an effort to get rid of the cramps. "Do you still need me to help you?"
Just as she's about to say yes, she remembers the impulsive decision she made this morning. And she realizes she knows exactly how to get this game to end. 
"Actually, I think I can do it," she replies with a smile, jumping out from the golf cart. "Will you just stand behind me and make sure I'm doing it right?"
Harry's pleasantly surprised but nods his head, a zip of enthusiasm firing through his chest. He follows her out and stands with his hands on his hips as she sets herself up, trying to find her stance. 
Per Harry's instructions, she leans over just slightly, a small bend in her knees. And that's when he sees it. 
She's not wearing anything underneath her skirt. 
"Mia," he growls, ambling towards her to cover her from behind, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
"Um, I think it's called teeing off? That's what you said, anyway—"
"Not that," he mutters, a protective hand squeezing her hip. He glances around them to make sure no one's watching them as his fingers dance down to the hem of her skirt, gently pulling it down. "Why aren't you wearing any underwear, Mia?"
"Ohhhh, that?" she asks, turning in his grasp. "I must've forgotten them. I'm sorry."
She has a look of false innocence on her face, her eyes rounded slightly and her lips pouted as if she was truly making a genuine apology. He's seething — he wants nothing more than to bend her over his knee and issue loud, harsh smacks to her ass, but he thinks she would like that too much. 
"You're such a fucking slut." he mumbles angrily, his jaw clenching. He grabs the golf club from her hand and uses his other to yank her back in the direction of the golf cart, a surprised yelp sounding from her mouth. "Are you that much of a brat that you've been walking around with your pussy out all day?"
She shrugs nonchalantly as she climbs into the golf cart. Harry rolls his eyes and shifts the key into the ignition, starting the machine back up. 
"Guess you'll just have to take me home, then," Mia replies with a sigh. Harry snorts and shakes his head. 
"You fucking wish," he says. She blinks at him. "No, baby. I'm gonna take you into one of those private bathrooms, edge you until you're crying, and then we're gonna finish this game."
Mia's eyes widen, shifting uncomfortably in her seat as he drives over a bump in the road. 
"Good thing I brought that nifty little remote control vibrator with me," he continues with a smirk. "Had a feeling you'd be a fuckin' brat today."
Mia doesn't know if she's ever regretted something so much before.
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heartlyrins · 8 days
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GAMBLE FOR YOUR LIFE !
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˚₊‧Desc— In which by gambling on his life, Aventurine manages to procure himself a little pet to take care of.
˚₊‧TW— smut, dubcon, slave/master, gentle noncon, face fucking, hair pulling, praise, anal, fem!reader, pet names, human trafficking, pussy eating, pussy kisses, he loves babying you, Aventurine sees himself in you so he's a total softie to you :(, spoilers for 2.0 and his backstory
˚₊‧A/N— Hey cuties!! Short lil fic before I actually write dark content for real, sorry my writing is a lil messed I'm a lil sleepy. Not really dark content since it's more like dubcon, sorry I was in the mood for praises :(. Send me requests I'm so lonely
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Gambling is something many people enjoy—of course, Aventurine is one of that many people. It's not that he enjoys it, he just has some extraordinary luck as his sister once said.
Through gambling, he finds that you can attain many things. Some of the things which shouldn't even be sold—an illegal trade of sorts.
You could even trade a life.
Not his life, of course, not anymore. But a cute doozy girl from the slumps, he was once a being like you—a slave sold from places to place, but he had escaped that life.
The Kakavasha he once was is no more, instead an Aventurine is reborn. But seeing the look in your eyes reminds him of the child he once was, the child he didn't have the opportunity to memorise.
The life he left behind and hoping to forget. But he's reminded of it everytime he looks deep into your eyes.
He's grown to like you. You've gone through the same things he did, but only that you hadn't have his luck to escape earlier.
He can see that you're starting to grow him too, it was easy to get you to like him. The masters you've had must've treat you badly, so it would come to you naturally to like a kind one.
Well he does give you pats and praises when you've done even something that isn't worth noting. Like for example, picking up something from the ground and throwing it away, sleeping when he told you so, chewing with your mouth closed.
Those were the basic things natural in life, but he can't help to praise you for the simplest thing.
Even as you're just taking him into your mouth, not even bothering to suck on his cock and just taking it motionlessly in your mouth while he does all the work, he still can't help but praise you for it.
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"Oh, baby—baby relax your throat." He coos as he looks down at you, holding onto your hair gently as if you were so fragile.
He starts to push his cock deeper, enabling your gag reflex as your throat attempts to push away the foreign object currently in your mouth.
He's so gentle with you that you hate it, you hate how he babies you, you hate how he's doing this without your consent and you especially hate how your body is reacting to it.
"I'm going to fuck your throat now okay?" He pushes through despite your gag reflex and grips onto your scalp almost painfully as he begins to fuck your face repeatedly.
"F-fuhck—you feel so good, so fucking good!" In a breathy moan he starts to abuse your throat faster, the only thing you could do was attempt to breathe through your nose which you were failing miserably.
You were almost kne the verge of fainting, black spots taking over your visions until he pulled out of you and came on your face, his cum dripping down your hair and eyelashes.
You start heaving on the floor, appreciating that you could at least breathe again. But you weren't even allowed that when he brings you to the bed and lays you down flat on your back gently.
You weren't used to this kind of gentleness from your previous masters, or anyone at all. He kisses your pussy through your panties before pushing them to the side and spreading your lips apart.
"Your pussy is so pretty.." He moaned out when he was met with the sight of your pink lips.
He licks a stripe up to your clit and gives a kiss on it and it gave you a moment to wonder if he was making out with your pussy.
The index of his ginger soon entered your hole as he licks at your vagina as if he was a starving man on an island.
Once he deemed you were wet enough, he positions the tip of his cock on your entrance before sliding the tip of it down to your puckered hole and you can see him smirking as he sees the fear in your eyes, desperately trying to push him away.
"N-no there.. It's dirty and dry—" you attempt to reason but he only spits down on his thumb and opens up the puckered hole slowly with his thumb.
The mere feeling of it disgusts you.
But what could you do accept take his cock in your asshole as he wanted to? And he's certainly adamant on it.
He brings his head down to your ears before whispering silently in your ear and you can feel his hot breath on your earlobe.
"Shh, it's gonna hurt if you don't relax okay? I'll do it slowly, baby." the fact that he was so relaxed about it made you wanted to push him further, but he kept you still by the hips and pushes into you as he said—slowly.
But it still hurts no matter how he does it and you squeal at the pain—you wish that he would've just pushed it all at once so the pain would be gone faster.
"You're such a good girl, you know that? My good girl. It was worth it gambling my life in that casino, just for you. I wanted you the moment I set eyes on you—" he groaned as he pushes himself further until he's at the hilt.
You push against his chest, flailing around at the pain but he just leans over to your tits and holds one boob in his hand before sucking on the other.
He reaches a finger down to your clit and starts rubbing you to get you to your climax faster which made it hurts even more, but it felt so pleasurable even if you try to resist.
"N-nuh, not there I'm sensitive!" you moan, it felt like you wanted to black out from the pain and the fact that it felt so good infuriates you.
He groans as he starts setting his pace faster, letting go of your nipple with a pop and moving onto your neck before sucking on one of the spot.
"Ahah—you're so cute.." he says when he pulls away from your neck, leaving a hickey in place.
"So adorable.. Go on, cum my little princess. Cum from me fucking your little tight asshole—" as if on command, your body reacts and came immediately.
He groans as he felt you tighten up, giving a few more thrusts before he came in you and pulls out, letting his cum drip down the sheet.
You were so glad that it was over, until he cups your chin and makes you face him.
"Oh no, baby. I've got a few more load left inside me, after all, I still haven't used your pussy yet.. You didn't think it was over, did you?" he grins when he sees your droopy face that was stained with his cum and gives you a kiss on your forehead.
The night still has a long way to go.
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inkyray · 14 days
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INKED
MATT STURNIOLO
a/n: this is my first oneshot and i deadass have no idea what im doing, go easy on me. im so used to writing full stories i kind of struggle with stand alone oneshots but yeah, i appreciate constructive criticism
3.6k words
warnings/content ahead: the bitch is getting tattooed yall, smut, p in v, brief fingering, degrading, hair pulling, the plot that leads up to the smut is longer than the smut itself ☠️
You felt the prickly needle press ink in and out of your flesh, it spared small stings that you didn't exactly hate. Nick sat on his living room couch not far away from you, but still far enough to raise his voice a little so you could properly hear him. He had a good bond with the tattoo artist, and she didn't mind coming to his house to ink him up.
Nick sat with his short sleeve rolled above his shoulder, revealing a tattoo he had just got done with. His shoulder is sore and red, covered in a layer of antibiotic ointment and plastic wrap. Earlier today he had invited you over, since he knew how long you've been wanting a tattoo, and you had decided you know what, fuck it. You tagged along. You and Nick are close, he's one of your only best friends in LA, since it isn't really where you're originally from. You two would hang out any chance the other was free.
It often got annoying for his other brothers how much you were around, but they had caught a quick loving for you and found the place empty and weird when you weren't there, considering how much you were with Nick.
The buzzing of the tattoo machine filled the silent void before it was interrupted by a TikTok Nick was watching on full volume, making you two laugh as the tattoo artist held down on your waist to keep you from messing her up. You were getting a tramp stamp tattoo on your lower back, your sweatpants folded right on where your underwear begins.
A few minutes pass of just buzzing, your stinging skin, loud TikToks, and the smell of antiseptic.
"We should make a TikTok." Nick announced after a while. You raise an eyebrow, "Now?" you wondered. Nick nods, taking the throw blanket from off of him and getting up. "I don't know Nick, kind of in the middle of getting a tattoo." You smiled up at him as he got closer. You were laying on your stomach, your body against the black leather chair wrapped in plastic, but your elbows kept the rest of your body that weren't your ribs, up, so you could use your phone.
"Oh please, you look hot as hell right now." He stood, chuckling. You rolled your eyes. "Nick. I'm in sweatpants and a tank." Nick looked at you from his phone, tapping a few things on there which you assumed had to do with TikTok. He quite literally sighed. "You are so unaware of yourself, girl."
You shrugged and blew him a kiss. "So TikTok or nah? I want to do, like a transition of our tattoos and us lip syncing to some shit song from the 2010's. I already made a draft of myself doing it before I got this bad boy." He points to his new splotchy tattoo of the bat on his shoulder. "Yeah, guess so. You're gonna have to film me in the midst of getting my tattoo, though. I didn't exactly record myself before this."
With the press of a time skip button, you guys filmed the TikTok, posted it, and Nick declared he was tired, going for a nap to his room. This wasn't out of the ordinary for him to be asleep with you here, you'd do it all the time when he was at your place, and either one of you guys eventually followed in the others footsteps, finishing whatever you were doing and going to lay beside them to sleep too.
The front door of the house opened, and you already knew it was Matt and Chris. They were running errands for their manager and Nick had decided to stay behind with you, since you were planning on getting tattoos together. Footsteps creep into the place and you wait for their reaction. They didn't exactly know you were also getting one, and they knew about your commitment issues with tattoos, so this was kind of a big deal.
Chris walks in first and doesn't even turn to look at you, assuming you were Nick getting tattooed. "You're still getting inked? How big is your bat supposed to be, Nick." He grabs a Pepsi from the fridge and pops it open. "Pretty big." You answered, your head resting on your palm as he turned to look at you, Matt following closely behind.
"Oh, shit."  Chris gulps down the Pepsi, walking over to you as he inspects the tattoo on your lower back. "How does it look?" You question as you see Matt stop in his tracks and come closer to get a better look at it. "Fucking sexy. Good job." He holds out his fist and you bump it, smiling at the comment.
You feel Matt's gaze linger too long on your skin as Chris goes back into the kitchen, making another comment about the tattoo you didn't quite catch. The stinging on your back now feels ice cold. "What do you think, Matt?" You wonder, turning your head slightly to look at him.
"Bold. For someone like you." He mutters, walking over to the kitchen to grab a root beer, maneuvering around Chris since he's constantly in his way. You scoff. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Is Nick sleeping?" Chris asks, you nod, he quickly goes looking for him.
"What I mean is that it's a tattoo decision I would've never thought you'd pick." Matt says, looking at you from the kitchen as he sips from his drink. This could mean so many things and you found yourself getting confused. What? "Matt, I'm gonna need you to elaborate."
It wasn't a secret that you were the least closest with Matt. Everytime you'd try to do the things you'd do with Nick but with him, there'd be some sort of thick invisible fog in the air, making you hyper-aware of everything you're doing and saying. Your chest always felt too heavy around Matt and the tension it weighed on you was too much. It wasn't normal, and you were sure Matt could feel it too. You knew a lot of stuff about him, and he knew a lot about you, but there was something between you two keeping you from taking the extra step of declaring you guys close.
He lets his eye's dart everywhere in thought, putting together how he's going to explain it to you. "Mmmm," he mumbles, "...no." He decides as he begins to leave the room, stopping in his tracks before he fully leaves, peeking his head around the corner. "You look good though, what Chris said." And he leaves.
You are beyond confused, you turn your head toward the tattoo artist, who was sharing the same look on her face. She spared you a shrug.
-
It's been a few weeks and your tattoo is fully healed, you loved the way you felt with it. The urge to get a million more tattoos on you was strong, but you held back.
On the other hand, being around Matt had begun getting more unbearable by the day. When you two were left alone, there was nothing to talk about. You would shift uncomfortably and he would bring out his phone as a distraction, doing nothing significant on it other than switch between apps. You were too aware of the other and the air around you would increasingly thicken. You were sure if you tried, you could slice through it with a knife.
Right now, was one of those times. Matt in the driver's seat and you were in the middle back seat, Chris and Nick had gone inside a store to grab a few stuff.
You watched his fingers tap the steering wheel, his thumb patiently rubbing against it, studying the fact they were slender and long, trained by veins that went down his hands. They looked so perfect under the gleaming hour of the sun. His nails weren't painted, so his short nails naturally colored themselves pink with a small white hill on his thumb. You let your imagination run free. Touching the dip of your waist or massaging the inside of your thigh. His fingers curving themselves inside you…
His eyes darted at the rear mirror, catching you focused on his hands. It took you a second too long to realize that. You looked up at the mirror and found his blue eyes fixated on you, dark hair sitting across his forehead and strands messily on his eyes. Your heart gave you a loud thump and a punch in the face of flushing blood. You didn't look away from his eyes, but you could still see his thumb grazing against the steering wheel.
Your brain was empty of words. You had no idea what to say and you were sure neither did he, until he began to speak. "What ever happened to that tattoo?" He asked, still looking at you from the mirror. You furrowed your eyebrows. It takes you a second until you realize he was talking about the tramp stamp you have. "It ran away." You answered blankly, because what kind of question was that supposed to be.
Matt sighed, looking out of the window, you watched him look outside as you calculated the messy hair that didn't seem too bad to pull on. "I mean, it never made an appearance again. No one ever saw it ever since you got it." He said. A small smile forms onto your mouth. "Some people have seen it." You mutter lightly, not bothering to look away from him as he goes back looking at you.
"Is that so?" He wasn't smiling, his face was processing a look of annoyance. You wink.
The car doors are pulled open and in one sudden movement, Chris comes in with a laugh and sits next to you, Nick follows closely behind, chuckling in that deep-voiced way he does after he made a joke he was proud of, and seating himself in the passenger seat. "Why are you sitting here?" Matt questions, not bothering to ask what they're laughing at. Chris takes out a Mento and offers you one, you reluctantly take it and let it sit in your mouth, wanting to suck the flavor out before you chew it.
Nick laughs even harder. "Oh, I didn't even realize I was sitting here. Chris, and you just let me?" Chris cackles, "It doesn't matter Nick, it's just the passenger seat." He puts an arm around you. "Plus I wanted to sit with her." He tells you specifically, looking at you as he begins to chew the Mento. "How I am honored." You sarcastically put a hand to your heart, not once taking your eyes off Matt. He was expressionless and began driving.
The conversation held on and turned into a different topic, you would make sly remarks here and there but for you, the entire ride home was hard. Matt would catch you staring at him, and when he had to turn the car back with his hand behind Nick's headrest, he would look at you longer than the road behind him. He didn't look really… pleased. Which had you amused.
He was upset that he wasn't one of the people who got to see your tattoo finished and healed, and you were catching onto that. The longer they'd drive, the more stern his expression would shift. He got progressively more and more irritated throughout the ride.
They make it home and Matt doesn't even give you a glance, he immediately heads to his bedroom and makes it known by his silence he'd like to be left alone. Okay, drama queen. You thought.
You had to go see what was up, it was just in you. After the conversation you two barely had and the eye content you held, which you were pretty sure was a hallucination you pulled out of your ass, you were curious to see just how riled up he was. Or you could get him.
Chris and Nick get a call from their manager saying she's outside, picking them up so she could explain to Nick something that had to do with their merch. Apparently she already spoke about it to Matt, so it'd just be Chris and Nick going to their studio warehouse to see, since that's where all their merch first goes.When they leave, your thought process changes in a matter of seconds. Seeing how upset he is, you want to see how hard you could push his buttons.
You approach his room and knock 3 times. No answer is received, you raise your fist to knock a second time, and by the first knock the door is pulled half open, revealing Matt looking down at you, expecting you. "What?" He asks, his eyelids drooping as he looks at you blankly. He changed into gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt.
"Can I come lay down next to you? I barely got any sleep last night." You lightly fluttered your lashes at him, holding your phone with both your hands. Matt stares at you, inspecting just how tired you looked. You looked fine, but he still opened the door wide enough for you to enter, not saying anything.
You lay on his silk bed sheets. Silk. What a slut. He sits in front of his computer, and boots open a game, not bothering to acknowledge you here. You don't like that. After leaving yourself alone with your thoughts for a while today, the least thing you wanted was to be ignored. Especially by him. Even if it meant annoying him, you just wanted to have some sort of contact with him. Either verbally or physically, you don't mind a single bit.
You clear your throat. "Thanks, Matty." He grimaces at the nickname, used to hearing his family say to him, but not from you. "My legs have been hurting all day." You say, cuddling into his pillows, stretching hard enough to arch your back. A real yawn escapes your lips.
"You don't work out, don't play that dumb shit with me." He says, turning his head to look at you for a moment, before turning back to look at his monitor. "Who said anything about working out?" You tell him. He stops, completely forgetting what he was supposed to be looking at.
"I don't know, I guess my tattoo really does magical wonders for me." A smile slips through your lips as you turn the other direction, your back facing him as your shirt exposes the tattoo, your pants hanging dangerously low on your hips.
You can't see him, but you hear him turn, and you feel yourself getting excited. "Why'd you get it?" He asks and you turn your head softly to look at him. His question was simple, but the expression on his face certainly wasn't. "Why does anybody really get a tramp stamp, Matty?" You respond to his question with another one, and he is giving you a look of impatience.
"Just fucking answer me right now, sweetheart." His voice isn't loud, but his anger is. He practically huffs and you feel yourself getting immensely more attracted to his aggressiveness. You turn your head back to the other side, leaving him unanswered as he burns holes in the back of hair, knowing that would tick him off.
You hear shuffling and then the bed dips, and your heart literally does skip a beat. You swallow your built up spit down your throat as Matt grasps your jaw and makes you look at him, your eyes meeting his blue ones immediately. "Don't look away from me, y/n. Why'd you get that fucking tattoo?" He held your jaw firmly. He was on the bed rooted on his knees, looking down at you as you laid on his pillows.
Your smile somehow got wider, flashing him your white teeth as you slowly parted them to answer. "So you could fuck me." Your eyes were staring intensely at him but in a lazy manner.
Matt's eyes narrowed, darting between your eyes and your mouth. "You fucking whore." He muttered, his lips pressing onto yours so much faster than you could say the word 'whore' itself. Your eyes screwed itself shut and took the opportunity as fast as you could, kissing him back harsher.
He let go of the kiss too quickly, which only frustrated you. "You got that tattooed for me, baby?" He wonders, his voice is hoarse and breathy. You nod so fast your hold almost fell off, and as embarrassing as it was, it was true.
You had only 1 body since before the tattoo, and you barely even counted it. Constantly being around Matt but not knowing how to go about it made you more desperate. He did something to you no one had ever done. Sometimes you would feel yourself pulsing for him, imagining your fingers as his.
The reason why you had even begun considering a tramp stamp is because of the sick fantasies that they held, using Matt as its lead.
Recently you got laid, and it was underwhelming and disappointing. Your legs actually hurted because you did a few squats the day prior, not because the sex was good.
"You fucking liar." He was smiling but nothing in his tone was friendly, his eyebrows were furrowed but his grin was undeniable. You licked his mouth and he pressed against your lips. "I wouldn't lie to you, Matty." You moan into the kiss, feeling his hand trail down your body and to your waist. A hand was on the dip of your waist and the other was holding your jaw secure.
Your heart was quite literally out of its body now, his soft hand trailing to feel your bare skin under your shirt, grazing just the hill of your bare chest, purposely not touching your nipples. In a sudden movement, he cups your breast and your whimper is muffled under the kiss.
He has his knees caging both sides of your thigh, pressing his knee into you. He smirks as you gasp.  "Lift your hips for me?" He pulls away, a small string of saliva connecting you two. You look straight at his eyes as you lift them, making sure he holds eye contact. And he does. He does as he curls his fingers along the strap of your pants and shoves them off.
"Let me see it." He orders. You grin, raising an eyebrow. "That could go for a lot of stuff." He grabs the side of your underwear and lets go of it, having it snap against your skin. "The tattoo. I want to see it." His voice is more demanding, more gruffly. Your pussy was soaked.
"No." You tell him all with a sly smile, you liked him aggressive and didn't mind seeing how far he'd go. In a sudden movement, you are flipped to your stomach, your hair is being gripped by his hand, pulling your head up as you feel his fingers tracing your tattoo. His fingers were too light. Too soft on your skin, you felt your back arch as he decided to balance the softness with a harsh slap on your ass.
Some hair was loose, out of his grip, resting on your back. The rest are being pulled closer to him, you feel his hot breath whisper in your ear. "You slut." A smirk spreads on your face, biting your bottom lip close enough to leave it bleeding. "You talk a lot." You tell him. He forces your shirt from off of you, leaving you just in your black lace panties.
You're still on your stomach, your bare chest pressing against his silk sheets. Your underwear is slipped off of you. Two fingers found their way to your pussy, sensitivity rubbing against it, your back arching your ass into his hard dick. "Fuck me already, Matt." You moan, knowing he's only touching you to get you overstimulated. He ignores what you're saying, responding to what's going on in his mind. "You look so beautiful. Bending yourself for me on my bed, begging for my cock."
His fingers rub against your folds, flipping your stomach inside out, pressing against your clit and your moan comes out louder than intended. "So wet for me." He licks his lips. Just as you were about to push yourself against his fingers, he let go abruptly. A huff leaves your lips and you whine. "Sorry, baby, you need something?" He mocks. You give him a noise of annoyance in response.
He grabs your ass hard, and to your surprise, you feel his tip at your entrance. You immediately clench around it and you hear him moan. He shoves himself inside of you and you practically scream, your whimpering gets louder each thrust he makes in and out of you. "You feel that, slut? Is this what you wanted?" He groans, not bothering to stop. You answer by pushing yourself onto him, fucking yourself to him.
You pushed your lips into your mouth, loving the sound of his moans and whimpers. Your head was pressed against his pillow, and he went faster, tears started prickling your eyes, shutting them. Your noises were getting more intense and a knot began forming in your stomach.
"I'm.. oh fuck–" Before you could even finish what you were saying, you release. Matt slows down, every push in is longer and slippery with your liquid, your pussy tightens around him and he mutters a quick "fuck" and pulls out, cumming all over you.
You turn to look at him. He looked back at you. There were many times you thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world, but now, seeing your hair a mess and its baby hairs sticking to your forehead, your lips sore and red from his aggressive kisses bare on his bed, he thought he was looking at a goddess. You glare at him, noticing he's been staring at a few seconds too long. "What?"
"I think I might need to see that tattoo one more time."
-
(idk how a tags list works)
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captainreecejames · 20 days
Text
Wrong City - CL16 smau
in which you commit to the bit on Instagram
authors note : I hope you guys like this one! Originally it was going to be a different post every city and driver, but I didn't think that would really be enough so it became a short story on charles. Let me know if you want one on a different driver as I still have a few captions in the notes.
pairing : Charles Leclerc x FEM!reader
warnings : none
ynusername posted --------
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liked by bsfinstagram, yourmominsta and others
ynusername as the french say "soo la voo" or whatever
joris_trouche and who ate that second gelato? ↳ ynusername I had both duh 🙄🙄🙄 ↳ joris_trouche and that isn't Charles favorite flavor ↳ ynusername it's obviously my second favorite
pierregasly what??? ↳ ynusername isn't that what you say? I'm confused ↳ francisca.cgomes looks right to me ↳ ynusername thank you!
username22 quick flex in italy
username14 oh to kiss Charles leclerc in front of the trevi fountain in Rome, Italy
carlossainz55 I'm telling!!! ↳ charles_leclerc booo you whore ↳ charles_leclerc yn made me type that ↳ charles_leclerc but please don't tell
yourfriend1 did you try those gelato places I sent? ↳ ynusername yes, we agree they were so good! ↳ joris_trouche we??
username12 a woman in a white dress in italy will always have me going 🤨 ↳ username36 miss yn do you have anything you want to share with the class
username29 she's chronically on tiktok like me
landonorris get this off the tl ↳ charles_leclerc just cause youre chronically single doesn't mean we need to cater to your needs ↳ ynusername get him babe!
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liked by georgerussell63, lewishamilton and others
ynusername when in rome 🇮🇹🤪
pierregasly don't fucking piss me off ↳ ynusername oooh someone's even more sensitive than the monagasque
francisca.cgomes you are so pretty it actually hurts me ↳ ynusername babe look in a mirror ↳ francisca.cgomes our spot in 15 ↳ ynusername see you then babe
username27 oh she's committing to the bit huh ↳ charles_leclerc you have no idea ↳ username27 CHARLES HI
username83 when will it be my turn?? 😭😭
joris_trouche was the croissant good ↳ ynusername yep and I didn't share it ↳ charles_leclerc she tripped running away from me when I asked for some ↳ ynusername i thought we weren't sharing that info ↳ charles_leclerc sorry ma cherie
oscarpiastri you let that croissant touch the wall? ↳ ysusername of course not, what do you take me for? a loser
lorenzotl hope you had a good time ↳ ynusername we did <3
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liked by yukitsunoda0511, pierregasly and others
ynusername what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas
username71 can't wait for the Vegas post now
username26 okay now she's teasing us about Vegas '19 ↳ username38 LER US KNOWWWWW
arthurleclerc bestie!!! ↳ ynusername little bro!!! ↳ arthurleclerc 😑🤧
username45 she really is feeding us with boyfriend charles content ↳ username28 I know, thank you yn. 🙏🏼🙏🏼
bsfinstagram she's everything, he's just there ↳ charles_leclerc accepting my role as trophy husband ↳ bsfinstagram husband 🤨🤨 ↳ charles_leclerc you know what I mean 😑
username74 now why are Arthur and BSF being weird ↳ username90 asking the right questions cause why are they being weird 🤨
alex_albon stop kissing on the tl, there are kids here ↳ ynusername weird to use third person but to each their own ↳ alex_albon im talking about logan
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liked by scuderiaferrari, lilymhe and others
ynusername you know I love a monaco boy 🇲🇨
load more comments
username82 HE LOOKS SO GOOD OMG ↳ username82 LIKE THAT POST RACE GLOW IS JUST 🧑🏼‍🍳💋 ↳ username82 WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE ↳ username82 WHY ARE YOU IN ALL WHITE MS. YN
username63 Ma'am, you simply cannot post this then disappear
charles_leclerc ma cherie 🤍 ↳ ynusername you called?
lewishamilton congrats! ↳ ynusername thank you sir lewis. ❤️❤️
sebastianvettel wishing you two all the best ↳ ynusername thanks seb, from both of us
scuderiaferrari can't wait to welcome mrs. leclerc to the paddock!
username20 that post race glow hit so hard they got married
username30 yn please tell us he didn't wear that to the chapel ↳ ynusername he looked very handsome at the chapel, don't worry ↳ username30 that somehow doesn't make me feel better. was he wearing a costume?
tomholland2013 congrats you two! ↳ zendaya i guess our invites got lost in the mail? ↳ ynusername reception soon!!
yourmominsta my beautiful girl and handsome son-in-law ↳ ynusername love you mama ↳ charles_leclerc love you maman
username93 when she goes from the g in wag to the w >>
olliebearman you look amazing yn! congrats ❤️ ↳ ynusername awww thank you ollie ❤️
maxverstappen1 congratulations, no inchidents hopefully? ↳ ynusername you just can't let it go, huh? 😭 ↳ maxverstappen1 nope, little leclercs will know this story from my point of view ↳ ysusername please slow down 😐
lilymhe party soon? ↳ ynusername yes! I need a proper bachelorette party
username29 wait this wasn't planned?? ↳ username22 girl, vegas weddings are not really ever planned ↳ username29 yeah but when did he propose to her? if they didn't even have time for the bach parties, then i don't think they thought about this at all, makes me sad. you don't get married on a whim ↳ username22 take a breath. this is not your relationship ↳ username94 also they've been together for years, so this really isn't something out of the blue. plus they've joked about getting married on twitter and insta before, so it's something they both wanted. not that any of this is really our business
bonus post
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charles_leclerc and ynusername forever
627 notes · View notes
lxkeee · 2 months
Note
I absolutely love your writing!! And don't get me wrong, I love Lucifer, but they way you write Azreal and the Eveningstar family lives in my head 24/7. The AU where reader ends up with Azrael is my absolute fav to come back to, along with the main series it stemmed from. I'd love to see more content of him in general. I've been driving myself crazy imaging a part 2 to the AU with Lucifer wanting to reconnect with reader and having this family unit with them, only to realize that he lost them completely when he fell and that they've moved one and found happiness without him. Very hurt/no comfort for Luci while reader finally experiences a returned unconditional love with Azrael.
TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN
—ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE
Pairing: Azrael Eveningstar x Seraphim Angel! Reader
Genre: angst
Warnings: hurt and no comfort for our short king
Notes: an alternate universe where [y/n]'s family is complete, Xavier doesn't have any daddy issues nor has any hatred for Charlie as he doesn't give any crap about her and Lucifer (well, he did at some point but forgave them), where it was simply the wrong person and wrong time. Where it was Azrael who is endgame. This isn't canon to the fanfic storyline, simply an au.
Additional notes: I LOVE IT WHEN READERS WANT MORE AZRAEL CONTENT OMG
CH. 1 | CH. 4 | NAVIGATION
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They finally have done it. Hazbin Hotel is finally booming in business, many sinners are finally checking in and giving redemption a try.
Though, Lucifer cannot help but be nervous. Heaven or specifically, the Seven Virtues requested a meeting with him and his daughter and along with Vaggie, they wanted to talk about the hotel and also about his punishment.
Why wouldn't he be nervous? The last time he was in a meeting with them, they absolutely crushed his hopes and dreams and to add to the fact that his first wife, now ex-wife is part of the organization.
Lucifer doesn't know how to handle it, he's afraid of how he'll act once he sees her and the fact that Charlie told him about his son that he left her with. Absolute guilt.
He misses her, he misses [y/n] so much and he regrets how he treated her. He neglected her, abandoned her and their son. Even after all these years, his heart still longed for her.
“Dad? You okay?” Charlie asked worriedly, holding her bag. Currently, they are waiting for the portal to heaven to open for their meeting tomorrow. She noticed that her dad seems to be in deep thought, she knows what's plaguing his mind—meeting his ex-wife again and seeing his son for the first time. She too is nervous about what will happen when that moment comes.
“The portal seems to be taking a long time to open.” Angel Dust snickered and Vaggie elbowed him on the side, somehow both Alastor, Niffty, and Angel Dust wanted to join them. Leaving the hotel underneath [f/n]'s care, another overlord who joined the hotel.
“You're really complaining when you're not even invited,” Vaggie muttered before turning to look at Alastor, “I am even surprised that even you also decided to join us, how come?” Vaggie deadpans at Alastor and the taller demon just laugh, radio static filling the air, “Myyy~! I am merely curious what the heavenly realms looked like. Nothing more~” He grins, quite mischievously. Vaggie narrowed her eyes at the radio demon.
Lucifer sighs and shakes his head and gives Charlie a small reassuring smile, “I'll be fine, I'm just a little... Nervous.” he admits softly and Charlie nodded in understanding, placing a hand over her father's shoulder. She understands him, she too is nervous in seeing her half brother. Last time she saw him, he was giving her judgmental looks.
“I'm sure we'll be fine... Maybe this will be your chance to reconnect with them?” Charlie suggested, hopeful that somehow the two families can find a neutral area to get along with each other. After all, she always wanted an older sibling or siblings in general. She hopes that she and Xavier can get along.
Lucifer smiled, he too is hoping that this meeting will be fruitful and won't go so horribly.
A golden portal opened in front of them and they looked at each other, nodding as they finally took a step inside.
Heaven, is very bright compared to hell. Too much white, gold, and blues.
The crew looked at Lucifer, urging him to take the lead as he did come from here. Lucifer sighs, despite the nervousness, he decides to approach the pearly white gates of heaven. Standing in front of the counter of Saint Peter. The others are following him.
“Welcome to heaven, can I get your names please?” Saint Peter asked, opening his book. Lucifer sighs, twiddling his thumbs nervously.
“Lucifer... Morningstar...” Lucifer says, almost a whisper. Cringing slightly as he watched the Saint slam his book close, “Oh... Fuck!” Saint Peter exclaimed with a nervous chuckle.
“Um... I wasn't aware that you will be visiting today...” the Saint said with an awkward chuckle, Angel Dust just smirked while Alastor just grins, clearly interested in what heaven has to offer.
Charlie stood nervously beside Lucifer, unsure what to do next.
“Saint Peter, please grant them access. They are here for an important meeting.” a young masculine voice says, surprising the hell citizens. Turning to look at the gate and their eyes widened to see an almost exact replica of Lucifer—except for the eyes and height.
Lucifer's eyes widened and Charlie can be seen to become more nervous as the young man approached their group.
Saint Peter eyes widened, not expecting to see the young general today. “R-right. Please, come in.. heaven officially welcomes you.” Saint Peter says, opening the gates wider for the group.
Lucifer couldn't think, his ears ringing as he looked at the newcomer. Lucifer examined the angel's appearance—an almost exact replica of him and of course, he knows those eyes very well. The same [e/c] eyes his ex-wife has. The angel wearing a white military-ish uniform with gold shoulder pads, elbow length black leather gloves and knee high leather black heeled boots.
Charlie gave his hand a gentle squeeze in assurance, he squeezed it back, grateful for her support.
Alastor grins, not expecting a twist in the scenario.
The young man turned to look at them with a gentle smile, “Greetings, I am Xavier. I am tasked with showing you guys where you will stay for tonight.” Xavier says.
Xavier looked at his obvious half family from hell, before, he had anger for them but because of his mother's influence, he was able to manage his anger on them. But it doesn't mean he'll accept Lucifer and Charlotte his family, he already has his own family in heaven. He doesn't need them.
“Please follow me and keep up.” Xavier says, almost emotionless. It's a habit of his, it might come off as rude or cold to people he just met but he doesn't care. His mother is the angel of kindness, he needs to inherit her kindness instead of his father's pride.
The hell citizens just looked at him with slight nervousness—aside from the smiling one—before eventually following him.
Lucifer just stared at the back of Xavier's head, the golden halo shining brightly against his light blonde hair. He wanted to speak to him but words wouldn't come out of his mouth. He just follows in silence, his demon kind just looking at him in worry—except Alastor, who just gave him a teasing grin.
They followed him, it took a while but they finally arrived at their destination. A large white mansion with black and gold accents, surrounded by fluffy white clouds and trees. Sunflower and tulip fields decorating the front garden. [Y/n]'s favorite flowers.
“This is where you'll be staying so please, come inside.” Xavier says, the gates to the large mansion opening for them.
They admired the scenery, it is completely different from hell. Clean and tidy. Almost blinding to the eye.
They finally arrived inside the large mansion, completely in awe with its exterior and interior designs.
“Don't worry about the palace being too crowded, it's just me and my family living here.” Xavier explained, ushering them to follow him. Walking towards the supposed living room, they weren't able to see the large family portrait on the wall as it was mounted on a wall that they couldn't see.
“I am surprised we're staying somewhere luxurious this time unlike last time. How come?” Charlie asked and Xavier gave her a raised eyebrow before sighing.
“The guest rooms are currently full while waiting for new buildings to be created for the new souls. The seven thought it would be a good idea if one of them houses you guys.” Xavier shrugs before continuing to tour them around. Angel whistling in admiration.
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“And this will be your room.” Xavier says as he showed Lucifer his room. The others are already settled in.
“Thank you.” Lucifer says, almost a whisper as he went inside the large luxurious room. Xavier nodded as he stood at the doorway.
“It's nothing, I'll get going now and if you need me, I'll be in the living room.” Xavier says before turning around to leave.
“Wait!”
Lucifer doesn't know what he was thinking, he just acted out on impulse. Xavier stopped, turning around to look at him with a raised eyebrow.
“What is it?” Xavier asked, looking down on him. Mom, why is he so small? He thought.
Lucifer gulped, clearly nervous, “Are you... My...?” he couldn't get all the words out as his ears were ringing.
“Son?” Xavier completed, crossing his arms to look at his blood father, “Yes.” he says flatly and Lucifer's breath hitched.
Xavier sighs, already done with this, “Look, I am going to be straight with you dear father of mine.” Xavier says flatly, Lucifer looking at the taller boy in front of him.
“Just because you're my blood father doesn't mean I want you back in my life, whatever you're trying to do. I don't welcome it. I couldn't care less about you or my half sister. Do you understand? So, stop. Don't give me and my family a hard time. You've done enough damage already.” Xavier says coldly, catching Lucifer off guard. The fallen angel's heart shattered at the boy's harshness.
“Excuse me, I still have work to do.” Xavier says as he quickly walked away. Lucifer nodded, almost robotic. He went inside the guestroom and cried.
Lucifer doesn't blame Xavier for acting that way. After all, he's a horrible husband and father to [y/n] and Xavier.
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Dinner was oddly awkward, a tension between the three blood relatives. Xavier didn't join them, opting to only have a drink instead.
“Aren't you going to eat?” Charlie asked hesitantly as she sat beside her dad, Xavier didn't bother looking up from his golden holographic screen that came from his wrist watch, his other hand typing into the hair and into the hologram.
“I'll eat later.” Xavier answers nonchalantly, they can clearly see him texting his mom.
M: Don't be too harsh on them sunshine.
X: I'm trying.
D: Well you better try harder, kiddo.
X: 🙄
X: What time will you come home?
D: Late as usual.
M: Indeed, there are still many things to finish but your father and I will make it quick to join you for dinner.
X: Alright, stay safe.
D: Love you, kiddo. Goodluck lol.
M: We will, sunshine. Love you<3
X: love you guys too.
Xavier was grinning slightly as he texted some people, Lucifer assumed it was [y/n] and somebody else he doesn't know of.
Lucifer avoided Xavier after that, clearly heartbroken. Lucifer assumes the D and M profiles meant Mom and Dad and Lucifer assumed that [y/n] remarried and he can clearly see how happy Xavier is talking to them.
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To shorten this all up, the meeting went smoothly. The Seven Virtues promised to fund the hotel and also asked for Lucifer's forgiveness for how harsh they treated him. Heaven took back his punishment and he can freely visit heaven anytime. Lucifer was able to find out that Azrael married [y/n] and she's happily married to the man. Though, she doesn't hate him and forgave him but she did make it clear that she doesn't want him back to her life and so did Xavier and Lucifer respected their wishes.
Finally returning back to hell, Lucifer was extremely heartbroken. He lost before he even got to start. But part of him is glad that [y/n] found a better man than him, someone who treats her better than him.
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End notes: I got a little lazy at the end lmao.
TAGLIST:
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yuutx · 2 months
Text
ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄, 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 . . (𝒩𝒜𝒩𝒜𝑀𝐼 𝒦𝐸𝒩𝒯𝒪)
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nanami kento x f!reader . 18+ content. ⟆ nsfw + unprotected sex/raw sex. grinding against his thigh. tit/nipple play. clit play + clit slapping. size kink. breeding kink. ⟆ mdom + fsub ⟆ not proofread ! ૮ ྀི◞͈ ˔ ◟͈ ྀིა
just wanna let u all know that this probably isn't my best of works as im really sick right now . . i hope you enjoy nonetheless though ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !
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Your sopping cunt rutted against his thick thigh, his hands gripping your hips as he watched you ride him, trying to get off from his thigh alone. Nanami leaned back against the couch, letting you have your fun. He knew how desperate you'd been all night. His lips parted as he watched you move, the slickness of your arousal dripping down his leg. Your breasts bounced in his face and he caught one with his mouth, licking over the sensitive peak, sucking it into his hot mouth. His teeth gently pulled at your nipple, his fingers pinching the other between his calloused digits, rolling it around, feeling the stiffness between his fingers. His tongue flicked out, tracing the hardened bud, his eyes lifting to watch your face as he teased you, your hands tangled in his blonde hair, his name on your lips.
Nanami let go of your nipple with a wet pop, his hands trailing down your sides to your ass, squeezing your cheeks before pushing you against him. His fingers gripped the round globes as he watched you, your body shaking, your walls quivering, trying to tighten around something that wasn't there. His lips curled into a small smile as he felt you twitching above him, your hips moving in short, quick jerks. You were so close to coming undone.
He pushed his thigh harder against your clit, your body moving on instinct as you ground yourself against him, the slacks he wore providing the perfect amount of friction for your sensitive clit. The coil within you wound tighter, almost ready to snap, so close to falling over the edge. You whined when his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your ass, the pressure building higher and higher.
"Go ahead," his voice was smooth, dark and low. "I know you're close. Let go, love. Cum on my thigh."
His words were all you needed, and you fell apart, your walls fluttering around nothing, your hips spasming, his hands holding you in place. Your eyes closed, the pleasure crashing over you in waves, his name tumbling from your lips, breathy moans filling the air. Your hands left his hair, trailing down his shoulders to his biceps, holding onto him as you came down, the high slowly fading away.
You opened your eyes, meeting his hazel gaze, his blonde locks falling in front of his face. He gave you a crooked smile, his lips parting as he spoke. "Such a good girl, cumming for me." His thumbs caressed the flesh of your hips as he continued, "You looked so beautiful, rutting against me. So desperate, so needy." He paused, his grip on you tightening, his eyes burning with a desire he had yet to satiate. "Do you think you're ready for more?"
Your walls clenched around nothing, his words causing another wave of arousal to flood from your slit. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. His hands moved from your hips to your chest, pushing your tits together, his head ducking down to lick between the valley. His tongue dragged from the underside of your breast up the center, stopping to give each nipple a long, slow lick. He blew cool air on the wet trails, watching with lust-blown eyes as your nipples hardened once more. "So responsive," his voice was deep, full of want, the hunger he had been ignoring all night coming to the surface. "Do you think you can handle my cock now, little one? Can you take all of me?"
You whined, wanting him inside of you more than anything, wanting him to fill you, stretch you. Your head nodded, your hips lifting. Nanami chuckled, the sound causing a shiver to run down your spine, his hands leaving your breasts. He reached between your bodies, fingers undoing the zipper of his pants. His length sprang free, the tip weeping pearly precum, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock.
Nanami rubbed the head of his cock through your folds, gathering your slick. He pressed the blunt tip against your hole, the swollen head pushing past the tight ring of muscle, sinking inch by inch into your tight cunt. His mouth fell open, a moan slipping out. Your walls clung to his cock, trying to keep him inside. You felt so full, so complete. The stretch bordered on painful, but you loved it, the delicious burn adding to your arousal. He bottomed out, his pelvis flush against yours. His head fell forward, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his eyes closed, taking a moment to savor the feeling of being sheathed inside you. Glossy lips parted, his tongue darting out to lick the salty skin, his breath hot against your body. "So fucking good, angel. You're so tight, so perfect for me..You feel like heaven." Nanami lifted his head, his gaze meeting yours, his mouth a mere centimeter from yours. "You ready, baby? I'm not going to be gentle, not tonight." He pulled his hips back, until only the tip was still inside, his hands grabbing your waist, his grip bruising. "I'm going to ruin you."
With those final whispers, his mouth crashed against yours, his tongue slipping past your parted lips. His hips slammed back against you, his cock bottoming out, the force of the thrust causing your body to jerk. You moaned into his mouth, your body shaking, the pain of the impact quickly dissipating, replaced with the overwhelming need for him to do it again. He pulled his hips back again, his length dragging along your fluttering walls, the feeling of being empty causing you to break the kiss, a whimper slipping out. You didn't have time to miss the way he filled you before he thrust back inside, his pace unforgiving. You could do nothing but hold onto him, his body the only thing keeping you grounded. He moved one of his hands from your waist to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in the hairs at the nape, pulling you back towards him, his lips claiming yours again. His other hand moved from your waist, his thumb finding your clit, his skilled digit rubbing tight circles around the bundle of nerves. Your mind was reeling, unable to keep up, the dual stimulation driving you wild.
You pulled away, a broken cry falling from your mouth as his hips snapped against you again, his cock pounding into your cunt. He kept the pace, his finger swirling around your clit, the pleasure growing within you, the coil winding tighter and tighter. "Ke-Kento.. s' good, love your cock..so big.." The words left your mouth in a rush, your brain too hazy to think of anything coherent. You could hear the wet noises of your bodies coming together, his length moving easily inside you. "Mhmm, please don't stop… i-i'm close..close to cumming on your b-big.. a-ah..!"
Your body shuddered, a yelp escaping as he slapped your clit, the sharp sting quickly melting into pleasure. You could feel your orgasm approaching, so close, the tidal wave of euphoria cresting. A few more well timed thrusts and his thumb pressing hard against your clit was all it took to push you over the edge. You fell, the world around you fading away, only Nanami's cock and the way he filled you mattering. You clenched around his cock, his hips faltering as he chased his own release, his length swelling. "Fu-fuck," his voice was deeper, more ragged. "Gonna fill this little pussy with my cum. Gonna breed you, make you mine." He stilled, his cock buried to the hilt, the first hot spurt of cum splashing against your walls, a guttural groan leaving his throat. His mouth fell open, his eyes shut as his body shook, the euphoria washing over him, his mind blissfully blank. His hips twitched, his member pulsing, squirt after hot squirt coating the inside of your cunt, his length twitching as his balls emptied, his seed seeping from the corners of your joined sex. His eyes fluttered open, meeting your gaze, a smile gracing his lips, his eyes soft.
"Mine..Finally mine."
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matchascara · 9 months
Text
CAMBOY SCARAMOUCHE
- IN WHICH: you find out the snarky purple haired boy in your class isn't as much as of a nobody as you thought he was.
contents: NSFW!! slight bdsm, mentions/use of sex toys
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₊✮⸜ ༘⋆
he was the loner in class that spoke to nobody. headphones always on, blasting music that others who sat next to to him said to be j-rock. his aura was silent, cold and mysterious. the only quirk he showed to the public was his doodling habit in class. nobody really knew anything about him, besides his name.
scaramouche.
no matter how many times the blonde haired girl would invite him to parties, or hangouts, he'd never show. she'd pester him endlessly during lectures, only to be met with either complete silence followed by an eyeroll, or, if she's lucky, a scuff and a "stop bothering me." sometimes he'd switch it up and say, "go find something better to do with your free time."
yoimiya was defeated, and you never really quite knew how to help her. "try again tommorow." youd reassure, but, tommorows success was never gaurenteed
so with this, you couldn't believe your eyes when this same quite, snarky, and anti social boy has no problem lewdly showing off his body to thousands of people online--
as a camboy.
and a very popular one at that. always receiving the most gifts, subs, and views each live, he easily kept his place in the top 10 of the main screen leaderboard. his gap moe is what drew you in. his online persona was sexy, and alluring, yet he managed to keep his mysterious aura from his real life personality.
so you became a regular at this site, secretly watching him every other night at 11:30. you watched as he would undress himself on stream, slowly letting his lanky, pale fingers teasingly run along his ab lines until he reached down to rub his cock that throbbed through his jeans, "50 more gifts and i'll stroke it for you. 100 and i'll moan your name. please hurry, i really want to come to you guys." he teased, biting his lip in anticipation.
you don't know why you did it. but you did. with a small fright of hesitation you sent 100 gifts under a lesser known name of yours, your middle name.
with the sound alert going off, it gave scara the ok to lean back in his chair, open his legs and to start unzipping his jeans. "good girl (m/n)" he slurred.
"but i have a surprise for you all today." he pulled out a cum stopper from his desk and bit his lower lip in pain as he inserted it into himself. but his attempts to conceal was in vain and a faint gasp followed by a soft "fuck-" managed to escape his lips.
"you have to tell me when to cum. i'm under your control tonight."
you continued to watch as he then stroked his cock up and down, starting off slow before speeding up the pace as he leaned back with one arm over his eyes moaning and humming your name. "f-fuck, it feels so good. you feel s-so good. i can't-"
and when his soft moans turned into sensual whins, begging for you to let him cum, you wanted to do more than just watch.
you followed scara in his movements, taking off your shorts to play with your aching clit as you listened to him cry your name, he wanted so desperately to come, but you weren't going to let that happen. not yet.
you watched his mouth hang open out of pleasure as he continued to beg for you to let him cum. "please. please, let me- let me cum for you."
"keep it quiet." you sent with 50 gifts.
he bit his lip to seal off any more words, using his free hand to lean over and grip his desk, causing his shoulders to tense up.
you hated how you enjoyed it. how you enjoyed watching your classmate who's usually so silent, and reserved suddenly become a vocal, moaning mess as he pleaded with you to let him cum. and he has no idea it's you. he has no idea you'd see him tommorow sitting by himself in the back corner.
he had no idea you knew his dirty little secret. but part of you wish he did, because you so wanted the fingers that would pleasure you to be his own. just thinking about it made you release your final breath of moans as you finished on your white bedsheets. you sighed. the fun was over.
"cum for me."
scara finally leaned back on his chair upon hearing the noise alert, removing the cum stopper from his cock that throbbed in his hand. he let out a melodic moan, almost a scream as he finally came. it shot up upon his chest, which would drip down onto his lower stomach
he took deep breaths as he did nothing but bury his face in his hands, letting the thousands of viewers watch the breathless, whining mess you made of him. gifts were being spammed, subs were being increased and the live chat had nothing but praise.
he was definitely way more popular than you initially thought.
"next week i'll have a special guest with me." he finally managed to spur.
exiting the stream, you closed the laptop shut. the words "special guest" lingered in your head as you cleaned yourself up to get ready to bed.
but that night was a sleepless one, as all you wanted was to hear scara's whins taint your ears just once more.
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meownotgood · 2 months
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under the influence / hayakawa aki
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When Aki gets dragged to the most popular strip club in Tokyo in hopes it'll help him "de-stress", against all odds, you help him do just that. In return, he finally cures your itch for something more.
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CHAPTER TWO — PINK LEMONADE MIMOSA
pairing: hayakawa aki x fem!reader
word count: 75.3k
tags (for this chapter): 18+, aki is a virgin, reader is a stripper, strangers to lovers, literally so much smut, semi-public sex, body worship, hand job, blow job, multiple orgasms (from both parties), orgasm control, fingering, creampie, virginity loss / virgin kink, cumplay, overstimulation, riding, doggy style, missionary, reader is shorter than aki, reader has nipple piercings, reader has a bit of experience, lots of praise + teasing + dirty talk (giving and receiving), switchy aki, reader is touch-starved and has had shitty relationships in the past, the smallest hint of coercion (reader convinces aki to do it without a condom, he's into it tho), the smallest hint of bloodplay (reader bites aki's lip so hard it bleeds, he's also very into it)  
masterlist.
read on ao3
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this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.
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You're finally starting to realize just how far you've come since this night first began. 
Aki Hayakawa has grown from a stranger who's name you fortunately happened to catch on his ID, to a man you've grown closer to than you ever could've expected. In between it all, your relationship has morphed into something you can't even begin to put your finger on. It's something more — much more — than what you were to each other at the start, that's all you know. 
In the short time you've spent together, after everything you've both been through and after everywhere this has gone, what your heart holds for him is nothing you've ever felt before, not for anyone. You aren't used to a softness this genuine. You know he isn't, either. This could blossom into more, for the both of you, if you're foolish enough to let it. 
Maybe that's exactly what you're hoping for. 
Truthfully, this scares you, almost. There's an ache in his shape gnawing at your chest and begging for more, for a closeness and a sweetness you didn't know you could crave. For the deliberate tenderness he's already given you a taste of, and the spark in your system you've felt since minute one; the kind you only get when you know you're alive. 
And really, as crazy and unpredictable as this night has been, it's not like you didn't see this coming. You did, and you didn't. 
Of course you knew most of what you'd be getting into, no matter how innocent you tried to play. You can't drag a handsome devil hunter to the club's private bedrooms and still expect nothing to happen. You knew he'd be inexperienced, and when it comes to this, you figured he'd be timid to the point where you'd have to show him the ropes. You knew that, but if it meant getting closer to him, you were fine with it. More than fine with it. The only thing you didn't know was the true extent of his naivete. 
You're not upset, not disappointed. Not mad or disgusted. Not any of the things he might've assumed you would be if he'd worked up the guts to tell you himself. After all, it's just sex. 
No, if anything, you're amused. You're excited. You might be wrong. Maybe you're jumping the gun. Either way, you can't get your heart to stop pounding. Fluttery and eager and incessant in your ears, your chest feels hot and your head is light. When you place your palm onto his cheek, he's burning up, as warm to the touch as you are. The intensity you've felt in the minutes past comes rushing back to you in waves. 
He must have the wrong impression of you. He's wrong, if he really thinks whatever amount of inexperience he has would make you care about him any less. 
Perhaps Aki is far from what you first expected out of him, too. If anything, you could have never predicted this night to turn out this way with him, not one bit. The sex, maybe you saw that coming. But the feelings you have towards Aki as you've come to know him? Never. 
He needs this. For once, you want him to let go, to forget. You're going to give him a gentle taste of love, of a world more divine. Now that you think about it, you've needed this too. 
You're greedy for neglecting everything else to be with him, common sense and the rest of your job. You shouldn't, not when you know once you have him, you aren't going to be able to let him go. But who is going to blame you? 
This is the most entertained, the most relaxed and comfortable you've ever been in the entirety of your time working here. Aki is a tenderness worth holding close, he isn't calm or collected at all, he isn't what he shows on the surface. He's soft and he's scared, he might seem composed but he's no more experienced than any of the strip club's regulars, he's sweet and kind and perfect and he's so — 
"You're so dramatic." 
"What?" 
A pin drops; Aki's expression turns to confusion, his brows knit up with a slight yet unmistakable tinge of annoyance. You're starting to laugh and he stares up at you expectantly, wide-eyed. 
The grin you give him nearly takes his breath away. Playful and purely ecstatic, tugging at the strings of his heart without even trying. You aren't taking him seriously, but that's alright. That's a relief. 
"Stop," You half-heartedly push at his chest, "You don't have to be so embarrassed. It's not like I'm judging or anything. I wouldn't do that." 
His voice has already regained its usual steeliness. It feels good to hear. "I don't know what you're talking about." 
"You've never had sex before?" 
"I…" 
Ah, you've got him. And you aren't wasting any time, you're ripping the bandaid off right away; whether it was the brazenness of your words, or whether it was because he didn't expect you'd find him out so soon, your question takes him off guard. His shoulders stiffen up, a telling heat blossoms from under his cheeks. Everything caught in his throat, thick and blistering, he can't speak. He glances up towards you, and even without a proper answer, the look on his face tells you all you need to know. 
So, you were right. 
"Aki, what's wrong?" 
He's really starting to lose his composure. Aki's face is red from his cheeks to his ears and even though he can't see it, he can feel the way the flush travels even further, across his chest and beneath his collar. He tries to sit up but it's no use; he's blocked by your firm palm on his chest and your weight in his lap. 
Aki groans, flopping back, covering his face with both hands. "This is stupid." 
You carefully grab his wrists and guide his hands away, and he keeps them limp, moving them without a fight. 
"You're the only one who's stupid." You counter.
Aki visibly pouts. "Let me up." 
You won't. You think you'll do the exact opposite, actually. Aki opens his mouth — to spout another protest is your best guess — but you shut him up with your lips on his, before either of you can find out. 
Immediately, he chokes out a surprised sort of noise, vibrations muffled by your mouth, but then he's relaxing, tilting his head to the tune of your own. Thumb and forefinger grasping his chin, you kiss him softly, intensely. Aki lets himself melt into it, his eyes closing, fingertips grazing your cheek as he kisses back. The world stops turning for a few fleeting seconds. When you pull away, he's calm, his eyes are deep, hazed over. He scans your face, he waits for you to say something. 
"You're way too serious." 
Aki blinks, eyelids heavy. He wishes you'd quit the embarrassing talk, and simply kiss him again. 
Your tone is quieter this time when you tell him, "None of that is a big deal to me, you know? Quit acting like it is." 
Your gaze is difficult to keep meeting. Aki looks past where you sit on top of him. He glances down towards the end of the bed, where the sheets have grown untucked and messy from what he can only assume is yours and his fault. A couple seconds go by, and then a few seconds more. Your finger taps his cheek. He doesn't reply. 
You scoff, but it's unconvincing. This time, your fingers drift down, skating either side of his neck. The rosy-purple marks flushing the surface of his skin look prettiest when they're underneath your fingertips. 
"What do you want me to do?" Earnest and tender, your words recapture his attention. "I promised you I'd give you whatever you wanted, right? So tell me the truth." 
Aki glances towards your gaze, finally. He answers without skipping a beat, "Whatever you want to do." 
"Dumbass, I'm asking you." When your fingers start to trace underneath his collar you resist the urge to grab a fistful and shake him by it. To your disappointment, he looks away again, seemingly unfazed, but you don't miss how the bridge of his nose subtly crinkles. 
You sigh. "I just want you to be honest with me. Can't you do that?" 
"I don't… I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with doing." 
"Stop it. I want this, I wouldn't be asking if I didn't. And I want to do whatever's gonna make you happy. Whatever will make you forget about all those stupid little stresses you've got swirling around in your head." 
Aki's lips purse into a thin, taut line. 
His weight shifts as you fling your arms around him, elbows resting on his shoulders. You're continuing, "I want you to enjoy yourself. You deserve to enjoy yourself. Do you not think so?" 
Now, it's Aki's turn to sigh. He looks back towards you, expression softer than before. He watches with his breath caught in his lungs as you lean in, fingers toying with his hair but refusing to give him the satisfaction of running through. 
You're quiet. So quiet, so alluring it makes his head spin; "Tell me what you want Aki, tell me, and I'll give it to you. Anything at all." 
Anything. 
Oh, there's so much he wants, he's longed for more from you in this past hour than he's ever wanted for himself in his whole pathetic life. He hates this feeling and loves it at the same time: adores the addicting river of desire flowing through his veins, despises how it itches and claws at his chest until it aches. A desperate sense of need chokes up his throat, goading him to beg for things he never thought he'd be begging for. He hates that he wants to be cherished, hates how badly he needs to feel like he's sitting right in your soft spot. 
The feeling of want is a lot to contend with for someone who's barely ever wanted anything. When he was younger, he wanted his brother to get better, wanted his family to be happy. When he got older, he believed he didn't deserve to want for them to come back. 
"I- I think I…" 
This isn't as simple as you, or even as he first made it out to be. It could have been, but he's gone and made feelings for himself he can't chase away. Because as much as he's tried to be strong and composed and resistant, ultimately, he's weak. Weak and lonely, relying on you to fill in the blanks. Weak enough to fall for you when he knows he shouldn't, for your kind touches and even kinder words. Enough to crave more, more than he believes he deserves. 
Maybe that's alright. He can quell his shaking heart, he can pretend things are simple. Just for tonight, he supposes. 
You told him you wished for him not to think about work, or devils, or hardships. Or anything outside of this room and what's happening right now. He's always been the type to look towards the past and the future, never focus on the present. But for tonight, he thinks he should. He'll have regrets if he doesn't. And he's been through enough to know regrets are always worse than whatever comes before them. 
He promised himself he wouldn't hesitate. A half-hearted promise, really. It might be time to make good on that. 
Breath sharply quickening, Aki finally concedes, "I want to… Think I want to keep going. Like you said." 
"Yeah? You want more?" 
Your voice tickles the shell of his ear, you're right, but it's more than humiliating to have his own words deciphered and tossed back in his face. His eyelids are getting heavy. His chest tingles like fireworks about to explode, and his limbs go limp. 
"Yeah. I do." 
"We can take it slow. Take our time." Right against his ear, you whisper such sweet words, your fingers curl in the roots of his hair and the sensation is oh-so pleasant, "I want to make this about you. We can do whatever you're comfortable with, and stop when you've had enough. How does that sound?" 
"Good. That sounds good." Aki swallows, nodding. 
The mattress dips slightly as you shift, pushing back up again, palms flat on his chest to steady yourself. "Then I promise I'll take care of you. Okay?" 
When you look at his face, Aki's got his lips pursed up into something of a pout, he's clearly unsure or nervous or embarrassed, maybe a combination of the three. But regardless, he doesn't falter, he nods again. 
"Okay." 
"Don't look so nervous." You're sliding down slowly to give yourself more room, moving to straddle his thighs, "All you need to worry about is making sure you enjoy yourself. And if there's anything you're scared of, just tell me. I'll show you what to do." 
Aki exhales a steady puff of air. "Got it." 
Reaching up, you start by unbuttoning his shirt. You stretch forwards to pop the top-most button, then the second one down, then the one after that. Aki's thighs squirm slightly as your weight repositions on top of them. His gaze darts from your face to your hands, his vision going blurry at the edges, and he breathes in deep to keep it refocused. 
Already, you're tugging his shirt from his shoulders and he's following along before he has a chance to think about it, pulling his arms from each sleeve. He sits up, allowing you to yank the dress shirt free from his back. You gently toss it aside on the bed once you're finished. 
You waste no time pressing your palms flat to his bare stomach. He flinches instinctually from the contact, but soon, he's melting into it. Your hands are surprisingly warm, even warmer as you start to glide them up, bringing them to his chest, causing him to relax and sink further into the mattress. Your thumbs brush over the faint muscles in his abdomen. You feel out the ridges of his ribs when he breathes in, the expanse of his chest, needy fingertips dip into the curve of his collarbones — Your touch spreads warmth and flickering sparks in its wake. 
Aki swallows the thick lump forming in his throat. His heartbeat rings in his ears like a church bell; you trace your fingers along a deep scar traveling the length of his shoulder. Your fingernails tickle the surface, and he's expelling a nice, deep sigh, closing his eyes as he gives himself up to you. 
That's it. You're whispering, voice quiet, only a figment, See? No reason to be anxious. I've got you. 
It's your job to make people relax, isn't it? Yet Aki still finds himself wondering how you got to be so damn good at it. 
You trace his arms in the same way you did once before, palms traveling up each one. You squeeze his shoulders, massage them a little until he's sighing, going down further to hold his waist, thumbs rubbing the faintest circles into his skin. His figure is as handsome as you were expecting: thin and stronger than he looks, muscle in his back and his shoulders, pale skin scattered with long, faded scars. Aki looks down — You're shifting back, leaning in. He sucks in a breath of anticipation, he sees you press your lips to his stomach, and feels you kiss right above his waist line. 
Again, you kiss closer to his side, you go upwards to place one over where his sternum would be, and then a kiss on his shoulder, one onto his throat — he's shivering, his eyes are closing. You press one on the shell of his ear, one over a mismatched scar on his chest. Each touch is rippling water: trembling, echoing. 
He can hardly handle this; you're leaving kisses over all the places no-one has ever touched before, no-one but you. No-one but blood and bruises and devils. There's never been room for anything this soft. 
He feels like he's dying. Dying and coming back to life. Or perhaps both, simultaneously. It would be nice if he could feel exactly like this when he dies. 
You're so pretty, Aki. 
One hand rising to cup his cheek and tilt his head upward, the other dips lower, fingertips snaking underneath his slacks to barely brush the waistband of his briefs. Aki almost doesn't hear you. His eyes go misty, and he thinks for a second he just might cry. 
You really are so soft, treating him softer, safer than anything he's ever known. He was supposed to be keeping things simple, but when it's this easy for you to tug at him, he finds it impossible to keep his brain from scrambling into a complicated, wound-up knot. 
You're still going, dragging your hands down his sides. His skin tingles, your fingertips caress every one or his scars, each of his little insecurities. How long has he waited, needed to feel this, without even knowing? How long has his heart eaten away at itself, desperate for something just like this? 
"You okay?" 
Your hands have frozen, he realizes. The familiar sound of your voice, louder than before, brings him back to reality. 
"I'm fine." 
"You sure?" 
"Yeah. I'm sure." 
You part his bangs, pushing them away from his eyes and tucking them behind his ears. You prop yourself up and lean your elbows onto his chest until they're close to digging in. 
"You know," You're saying, the faintest tinge of a smile tugging at your cheeks, "I feel special, getting to see you like this." 
Aki blinks, doesn't answer. 
"I wanna make you happy. You're important to me. I want to make you feel special too, Aki." Fingertips drumming a rhythm on his shoulder, your lips ghost the space between the corner of his jaw and his ear, "You'll let me, won't you?" 
You already have. 
With a dull sort of laugh, you double over, you wrap your arms around him; you understand you're getting cheesy, a bit too sentimental for your own liking. Your voice comes out as a deep mutter, breathed right against his skin, "I bet you've never felt like that before, huh? So special."
Like this? Like the world's stopped, instead of mercilessly spinning around? No, he hasn't. This is the first time it's felt as if everything finally makes sense. 
He knows it's fleeting. Aki doesn't want to think about what's going to happen when this is all over. He wants to think even less about how he probably won't see you again after tonight, how he won't be able to forget the things you've said to him, how he'll feel your touch linger on his skin for the rest of his time alive, and he'll end up cursing himself for not stretching out this moment with you for a few moments more. 
Returning to his same old job, the same old nightmare, only to feel that familiar lingering pain will be even harder to bear knowing the taste he's had of something softer. 
He takes a deep breath in, an even deeper breath out, and somehow manages not to tear up. He answers, "Not until now." 
"I must be doing something right then, huh?" 
Aki can practically feel your smile against his skin, swears he can almost hear it in your voice. You sit up, and that intoxicating grin is proven true on your face. Your hand cups his cheek and Aki, ever so pliant, finds himself leaning into your touch. 
"So-"
The moment's short-lived, because you're already tearing your hand away and breaking the silence; you scooch further back, and Aki watches, complacent. His heart skips to a steady rhythm in his chest. The ghost of your touch still lingers on his cheek, tingling and warm. 
"...You've really never done this before, or anything like this. Right?" 
Aki doesn't answer, figures it's rhetorical. By now, you've settled on his thighs, you're reaching down for his belt. He hardly notices. He stares at the shadows — yours, his — on the ceiling and allows his mind to spin. 
He's important to you. His head keeps coming back to those words in particular. Through your eyes, he'd like to see himself. Perhaps then, he'd come to treat his own well-being much kinder, gentler. 
You're already fiddling with the buckle. "Why though, why haven't you?" 
He merely shrugs, not having an answer. The gentle clink of metal on metal rings in his ears, and he tries not to pay too much attention. 
"You ever had a girlfriend? A boyfriend?"
Aki freezes up at that: stone cold. Though it's not like he has a reason to lie. 
"No. I haven't." 
Cute. God, he's cute. The professional little topknot devil hunter you found yourself so intrigued by is an innocent, goody two-shoes virgin. 
Carefully, you pull the metal pin from the hole in the leather, working it free. The buckle makes a satisfying jingle as you smoothly tug his belt from the loops in his slacks. Gaze focused down, you're talking while you work, "Ever been asked on a date? You're handsome, I can't imagine you never have. Do you always say no to that kind of thing?" 
Aki's voice is level. "I've had a few people ask me before. But I turned them down." 
"Why's that? Not interested?" 
Tilting his head, eyes narrowing, he fixates on the streaky paint job adorning the adjacent wall. 
"I guess not. I don't want to burden anyone. And I don't have time to go on dates, anyways." 
His belt is gathered in your hands and neatly set aside onto the edge of the bed. You hook your fingers in the empty loops of his slacks, you take a moment to feel the smooth fabric beneath your palms. No reaction. Then, you're toying with the shiny silver button on the front, you're popping it — and that gets Aki to suck in a nice, sharp breath. 
"A burden… How could you be a burden to anyone?" You ask him honestly. As you're pulling down his zipper, he props himself up on his elbows, and you're glancing up at his face; his brows are slightly knotted, he's looking away, he's still fronting his composure. His slacks go loose around his hips, and he presses his thighs together instinctively, holding them in place. 
Matter-of-factly, like he's reading off a script rehearsed a thousand times over, he answers, "I'm not good with relationships. And either way, I'm a devil hunter. Devil hunters die on missions often. It'd be irresponsible to get involved with someone. If I die, I'd only be burdening whoever I leave behind." 
"Lift your hips for me." 
At the murmur of your command, Aki does so, slowly lifting his hips off the bed, enough to allow you to pull his pants past the divots of his hips, down his thighs and his bruised knees, all the way until they're left pooling at his ankles. Your thumbs hook around his waistband, touch warm on his bare skin. He doesn't notice the way you're smiling to yourself; his boxers are a soft, blue and black plaid, so fitting for him. You're barely able to resist making a comment about how cute they are. 
"So you'll burden yourself, make yourself lonely to avoid hurting someone else," You meet his eyes, but for only half of a second before the creeping heat on his spine forces him to look away. "Just when I thought you couldn't get any more self-sacrificing." 
Trying to hide his growing nerves, Aki flexes his sweaty hands, "It's what I have to do. You'd understand more if you were in my position. If you were a devil hunter." 
What he has to do. There he goes again. All of the sudden, it's like you're back at square one, remembering how you felt when you first sat beside him. How you watched him shake and wanted more than anything to hold him until he was breathing again. 
You'll have him change his mind by the end of tonight, no matter what it takes. 
You scoff, "Is that so?" 
Your head tilts, fingertips drumming on his side, touch so faint he can hardly feel it. Aki steals a glance towards you. The hint of a smile on your face is indecipherable. 
"You aren't a burden to me." 
This time, he holds his gaze on you, he keeps it there. He couldn't look away even if he wanted to. His heart shouldn't skip in the way it does, instantly pounding and throttling inside his chest. You've barely said anything, but those simple, stupid words alone send him spiraling a mile a minute. 
Throat dry, hands clammy, he's about to muster up the courage to ask you if you really mean that when you're sitting up, sliding off of him, smiling warmly and laughing even warmer. "And for the record, I think you'd do pretty well on a date." 
He wants to, because boy does he feel awkward letting you ramble on while he stays silent, but Aki can't seem to figure out how he's supposed to respond to that, either. 
'Til now, a date seemed like such a foreign concept. The kind of thing his coworkers blabber about to pass the time. The kind of thing he'd only see in movies where the world isn't as complicated, and afterwards be left to wonder if it's anything like real life. 
Probably not. Life is never so simple. He shouldn't get his hopes up. A date with you might be nice, though. Your arm outstretches, your hand tightly grasps his wrist before Aki can mull over the rest of those thoughts. 
"Look, c'mere." You instruct, tugging him forwards, he follows along and you pull him until he sits up the rest of the way. "Sit on the end of the bed. Make yourself comfortable." 
So, Aki does. The mattress shifts as he shuffles to position at the edge of the bed with his legs hanging over. You let go of his wrist and you carelessly push his clothes onto the floor in a heavy heap to make more room for him. Your eyes lock with his, you're sinking down in front of him and — Oh. You're sinking down in front of him. 
The realization alone hits him nearly as hard as the sight of you below him. When you're down on your knees, you're forced to tilt your head, peering up at him through your lashes. Aki takes deep, steady breaths, they're shakier than he expected. He can't stop his heart from beating out of his chest, his gut from stirring with warmth. 
Just like that, he's finally out of his head. He was almost starting to forget what the plan was in the first place. 
You're giving him no time to rest either, already messing with the waistband of his briefs, hooking your fingers around while your other hand rests on his thigh and pushes them apart. He can hardly handle this; he's red in the face, he can feel beads of sweat prickle at the back of his neck and his forehead. You drag your fingers away, his waistband gently snaps against his skin, and as your palms work their way downward, smoothly gliding across his thighs, Aki shudders from the familiar, eager pang between his legs. 
It isn't even all that dirty. Aki covers his mouth with his palm, surmises he's the dirty one for already getting so worked up when the only thing you've done is get down on your knees in front of him. 
You rest your cheek on his inner thigh, you stare up at him with big, soft, wide eyes; you're so pretty like this, and he's so much taller compared to you, so much larger — You're the one beneath him but God, you're still the one with all the power. 
Aki is the one who's waiting with bated breath for you to give him something, anything. You've got him in the palm of your hands, and he's the one who would so easily turn the situation around at a single word from you. He'd kneel and beg for it if it's what you wanted, what you asked for him to do. 
Hopeless, he's always so hopeless when it comes to you, and every little thing you do to him only makes that clearer and clearer. 
"Nervous?" You coo, and Aki's quick to answer with a hasty shake of his head, denying. Your eyebrow cocks, "Yeah? You look nervous." 
"I'm not." Deep and weighty, Aki inhales, letting cold, sharp air enter his lungs. You keep your eyes locked onto his and he fights every urge in his system to tear his gaze away. 
"It's okay if you are." 
"I'm- I'm fine. Really." 
Sure, he might say that, but in the short time you've known him, you've come to learn Aki is the easiest man in the world to see through. He's more honest than he tries to be, you bet he isn't even trying to lie, more-so attempting to keep himself convinced. He isn't nervous, he can handle this. He'll be fine. All he has to do is trust you. 
"Are you sure you're ready?" You're asking, tone genuine, a flash of concern in the back of your eyes, "We can keep relaxing some more instead, if you want to. I wouldn't mind." 
And he does, he trusts you, he really, really does. That's why when you're asking him, even though his heart is in his throat, he's giving you a hesitant nod, he's answering with a quiet voice, "Yes. I don't want to stop." 
"Promise?" 
Aki swallows. "Promise." 
An ambient buzz fills the room when the air conditioner kicks on. The familiar smile returns to your face, now. Your fingertip trails nonchalantly up his inner thigh, it dips under his briefs, leaving goosebumps on his leg when it dances across his bare skin. 
"You aren't used to this, I know." 
You stretch that last syllable out until it makes him dizzy. Your bottom lip is pouty, tone sweet but pitying, "You've never had anything like this happen to you, huh?" 
Your thumbs brush his waistband again. This time, it really seems as if you're going to grab it and start to take off his briefs, in the slow, teasing way he's found fitting of you, but your hands drift right away. Aki lets go of his held breath and can't decide if he feels disappointment or relief. 
He grunts softly, he shifts. He stares down at your pretty hands as they softly squeeze his thighs, and he spreads them open a little wider on impulse. Quietly, he answers you simply, "Mhmm." 
"You're pretty smart though. I bet you knew this would happen all along." 
"It… Maybe. Maybe it could have. I wasn't sure what the hell you were planning." 
Despite your teasing, or perhaps because of it, he's still all tense, still shifting with unrest. He reaches up and presses a palm to his forehead, he feels the heat that's builded there, pushing the messy strands of hair away from his eyes. The slightest outline is tenting his boxers, fabric darkened around where it's damp. Aki breathes a long, shaky sigh, his eyelids flutter. He leans back on the heels of his palms and swallows, his throat dry, gasping from the effort. 
You murmur, "Never had anyone jerk you off before?" 
"Ah-" 
Instantly caught off guard, Aki feels his whole face get set on fire, his cheeks burn and his head goes woozy; blood rushes between his legs and he can't say anything, he can barely even manage the hurried shake of his head. It isn't the question, not you asking what he's done. It's the insinuation of what you're about to do. 
He stammers over his own tongue, trying to rush a response, "No, no that's- No." 
Leaning back a bit, he forces his posture to relax, his shoulders slumping. He stares down at you and doesn't care to fix his bangs when they fall in a sweaty mess around his eyes. 
Your slight grin turns into something more akin to a smirk. You've just gotta do a little dirty talking to get him into it. 
"Oh, yeah?" You tilt your head, your voice lilts in a giggly, far too innocent sort of way, "You're so sweet, I can't wait to touch you. You gonna let me make you cum?" 
Aki breathes an airy gasp, almost chokes, doesn't answer. How the hell is he supposed to answer that? His wrist pops when he flexes his hand too hard, he starts trying to speak but everything comes out in a stuttery mix of ah's and uhm's and eh's. He was red in the face from the very start, but now, it's so much worse; the tips of his ears almost hurt from how hot they've been burning. 
Thankfully, it doesn't seem like you were expecting an answer, because you're already peering up at him and continuing on. 
"I can touch you, can't I?" 
Voice as sweet and as smooth as spun silk, hands delicate and light as they skate the apex of his thighs, rubbing, then squeezing — If there was no hope of denying you before, Aki stares into your sparkling eyes and knows at this point, he's utterly done for. Not like he was ever planning on stopping in the first place. 
He gulps, Adam's apple heavy and bobbing in his throat. He gives you the go-ahead with a simple nod. His hips squirm and his body weight shifts back and forth as he tries to get more comfortable, ignoring the growing tension gnawing at his gut and aching in his lap. Carefully, your fingertips drag from his thigh to his waistband. Then, across to the other side, and then back again, ever-so teasingly circling where you know he wants you to touch, dancing around where he's starting to get fatter and needier beneath his briefs. 
The anticipation is worse than anything. Prickling at his neck, it bites down harder and harder with each passing second. 
Your voice chimes out louder than the perpetual ringing in his ears. "Tell me I can, Aki." 
Aki. His name sounded nicer that time than any of the other times you've said it before. Or maybe he's losing his mind. 
He is, isn't he? He knows he is, damn well. But he needs this, you're so sweet, he's been alone and he can't handle being strong anymore — So it's okay, right? It's okay to indulge, just this once? 
"You can," He says, he's breathless when he tries to speak, "Please, I need you to." 
He knows you can tell how badly he needs more, knows the way you're toying with him is on purpose. Your eyes never leaving his, the air trapped right in his lungs, you let the heel of your palm brush over him slightly, just barely. Almost like you did so by accident. 
But Aki knows; he gasps louder than he was trying to, even the smallest graze of contact has his head heavy, has him feeling himself pulse — and he's never felt that, never felt it ache so fucking badly before. He's a mess underneath his briefs already, and you've hardly touched him, hardly done anything more than tease. Yet still, he's dizzy, wound up and panting. You can tell how desperate he is, he's sure of it, but it's clear playing this game with him is your only concern. 
Each echo of his loud, staggered breathing is music to your ears. Your fingertips brush closer, closer. He fists his hands in the sheets, he grips them firm to try and establish some form of composure. The thick fabric of his boxers is impossibly tight around him, so wet and constricting, he'd go ahead and tear them right off if he had less self-control. 
But he's better than that. A little better, at least. Aki can play. He can be good, patient, compliant. He's put together enough to survive through your teasing, to keep meeting your eyes with the same eager, lust-filled flicker present in the back of his gaze as what's reflected in yours. 
He isn't good enough to keep himself from getting hard, though. He's insatiable, sitting heavy on his thigh. And once you bring your hand to him again, soft expression caught between amusement and adoration, once you're more deliberate — Your hand rubs the stiff outline of his cock through the fabric, he's warm and he's perfect, you love the way his breath shakes. Love how his lips part and his pretty blue eyes go glossy, like water frozen-over. 
Right then, Aki doesn't have enough strength to stop himself from gasping, from bucking his hips up into your touch to get closer. He huffs in disappointment the moment your palm travels away. 
His head slightly tossed back, he shuts his eyes tight, he inhales harshly and his knuckles protrude out from his hand when his grip tightens on the sheets. His hair is a mess in his face, every inch of his skin is tinged rosy, warm to the touch. You've barely started, you've barely touched him, and already, he's falling apart. 
And it's Aki, it's Aki who you're touching, who you've got falling apart at the seams from a few simple touches — It's him, everything about him and no-one else that has you so hooked. Those same broad shoulders tense up, skin slick with beads of sweat. His shiny black earrings glint when they catch the light. It's his tone of voice when your hand grips him again, his soft gasps that turn into even softer moans. Your touch melts his normally so smooth, so stern voice into high-pitched whimpers and whines, shy noises he has to keep muffled with the palm of his hand. 
Your head is spinning. You squeeze him harder, toying with his thickening cock through his briefs, and Aki groans into his palm, his own breath hot on his skin. Pleasure racks through his body in waves. He needs your touch more, closer, his bottom lip won't stop quivering, and he thinks he'll die if you stroke him any harder, but he couldn't take it if you stopped. 
With your thumb, you press down, applying the slightest pressure, you rub up the length of him and you swear when you reach the tip you can feel his dick throb. 
You smirk, nearly chuckle, instead huffing contently out through your nose. Your gaze fixates on his lap, where his shape's grown more prominent now. "Sensitive, huh?" 
Aki replies with a shallow, barely-there nod you almost don't manage to catch. 
Almost. 
"Yeah?" You place your whole palm over his covered cock, you admire the way he barely fits in your hand, "You must be, look at you. So hard. So needy already." 
Aki's voice goes shaky, breathy. He spreads his thighs wider. His dick's twitching, leaking wet and sticky precum onto his leg, and the better you make him feel the more difficult it gets to keep playing along. "Mhmm…" 
Your hand slowly drifts away with him, he follows your movement with his gaze as you take it up, up, up, until your fingers are wrapping around his waistband, and Aki's heaving a forceful sigh at the thought of you tugging it down. 
"You want these off?" 
You're clearly looking right at him, clearly asking for his answer, but he can't. His chest heaves, and Aki stares back at you dumbfoundedly, like a deer caught right in your headlights. 
Your head tilts, "You gonna answer?" 
Perhaps you're being a slight bit cruel to him, you're aware. But when his eyelids promptly flutter, when his expression starts to soften as you bring your hand back down, when you grab him and squeeze his dick through the fabric hard, his thighs tremor. He utters something pretty, something between a hitched breath and a whine, and you just can't help yourself. 
He grits his teeth, jaw tense as he grinds them. His hips shift and threaten to roll up into your touch, but you stop him, holding him still with a firm hand on his thigh. 
"C'mon," You scoff through a smile, "Talk to me." 
"I- I'm- Give me a minute." Aki manages. You can't help but be impressed by how smooth his voice still sounds, how level he can keep it, despite how desperate he clearly is. 
Your smile half-drops, and you let your tone go rigid for a moment, nice and genuine. "You alright? Is it too much?" 
"No, no, keep- Keep touching." Aki huffs softly, neediness more present in his voice this time. He glances down, meets your gaze with big, round pupils, full moons of black swallowing the ocean blue of his iris. "But don't take anything off yet." 
Oh. You like this. The desperation is more than evident in his eyes, in his voice, but that was stern, he's commanding. You can't deny how much you like it when he's selfish, when he takes some initiative. You could get used to him being bossy. It makes you wonder what else you'd see if you could bring out more of this side of him. Maybe in time. 
So, without protest, you oblige; your hand finds the thick curve of his dick through his briefs, you give it a nice firm squeeze and Aki tosses his head backward, he swears under his breath. Sparks run through his veins again, his heart beats against his chest and fuck, he can feel himself dripping. He's making a damp, sticky mess of his cotton boxers. You grip him firm, give him a few half-hearted strokes, you fist his cock as best you can with the fabric in the way. 
Aki shudders from his legs to his shoulders. His cock leaks steady dribbles of precum into his briefs, and he's certain you can feel the growing dampness of the fabric with the palm of your hand. 
You're groping him so softly, and he's starting to throb, pulsing incessantly until he's squirming, his head spinning, his dick commanding all his attention. He can't even think, let alone speak. The softer you touch him, the more everything melts; his throat's dry, his heart aches from pounding so fast, so hard. 
He wants to ask you to strip him of his briefs already. You won't make it easy, he's sure. Could he even handle any more than this? Briefly, when you stop touching for a moment, his head begins to clear, and Aki debates with himself whether he should start begging. He's sitting up, he's peering down at you with a quivering bottom lip, sorting through his options as he thinks of what to say. 
And then, before he has the chance to make up his mind, and right when he thinks things couldn't get any worse, you start leaning in. 
Staring up at him through your eyelashes, never breaking eye-contact, your hands on his thighs, your face between his legs, Aki watches as you kiss the shape of his cock through his boxers. Your lips are plush enough to feel, breath warm enough to give him a head rush. 
He thought he'd be able to regain his composure if you gave him some time. But he was wrong, so wrong. 
His breathing comes out a thousand times faster. The room is small, he's getting dizzy. He can fucking feel the outline of your lips like they're right there, with nothing inbetween, and he can't, not anymore, he can't take it. 
"Stop… stop… stop…" Oh, he's whining now, so much for being assertive — He's practically blubbering over his words as he tries to speak them. 
You freeze, hand hovering in the air. "You had enough?" 
Aki gulps, hard enough to make his throat ache, to cause his Adam's apple to bob up and down solidly. Sweat forces his bangs to stick to his forehead and tickle his vision. 
"Please." He begs that word and that word alone, voice fraying at the edges, soft and barely audible. It's difficult to speak, but he's trying. 
"Please what?" Your palm rubs smooth circles into his thigh, your head tilts, "What is it?" 
You're ridiculous. 
Aki huffs. He throws his head back in annoyance and grumbles, but with a stern tone, he answers anyways, "Please touch me." 
"You want these off?" Repeating the same motion, hooking your fingers around his waistband for the hundredth time, you peer up at him, to where his hand's come to cover his eyes, "Look at me." 
Sweat glistens on the edges of his frame. Aki breathes in slowly, deeply. His lungs hurt. He clenches his jaw so tight it nearly starts to sting. 
"C'mon, you can do it," Your hands drift up to meet his hips, thumbs nudging at his hip bones. Your words are much sharper than your touch, "I can keep teasing you, is that what you want? I'll gladly keep these on, keep touching you just like this." 
Aki can't see it, but he can feel how your palms leave and then appear further down. They dance over his cock and give a tentative squeeze, and then one hand is gripping his thigh as the other squeezes him harder, firmer. He groans, breath catching, the sound of your voice laced with laughter resounds in his ears — "You wanna cum like this? God, that'd be so cute. Cute little virgin devil hunter cumming in his briefs." 
"Stop, stop-" 
His last few syllables come out like a choke. Aki opens his eyes slowly, he sits up more, he looks at you through a gap between his fingers. That small hint of his gaze, dew forming at his lash line, pleads infinitely harder than his words ever could, "Take it off. Please." 
You follow along. 
You follow before he's even got his plea halfway out of his mouth, fingers tugging at his briefs, committing the desperate tinge to his voice to memory and letting it run rampant in your heart. You want to hear more, and you'll give more, to get that taste of the side he only shows to you. You lean in, press another faint kiss to him — he shivers, swallows thickly — your eyes catch his for half a second longer than they should and he's flustered, his gaze is quick to flicker away. 
The anticipation is palpable. Aki feels the way it bubbles up in his veins, swiftly boiling over. He shifts, he tries not to look as your hands around his waistband expose the messy patch of dark hair around his pelvis. He closes his eyes, and he sucks in a breath loud enough to hear when you finally free his hard cock; it springs up, taps gently against his stomach. 
Fuck, he's pretty. Thick and pretty and long, the head's flushed a rosy shade of red, wet and glistening. You lean in a bit, not touching yet. You sigh and breathe warm air onto the weeping tip, and you swear you catch the way his dick twitches. 
You're staring up at him, he can feel your gaze, but he can't even look at you. Aki leans back further, his weight resting on the heels of his palms. He overestimated how much of this he could handle, possibly. He'll go insane by the end of this, surely. You're not touching, you haven't touched yet. But he's still so hard and he just knows you're smiling, waiting for him to glance down at you so he can see it. 
Steady droplets of precum drip down the length of him. His mind's a mess, he's so dizzy he can't think. You're cooing something he can hardly hear over the ringing in his ears, under your breath — Oh, sweetheart. — and suddenly the air gets so much thicker. The end of your thumb presses to the tip of his cock, rubbing right over the soaked slit, echoing soft, wet noises, sending needy pangs of pleasure straight through his system, and it's all too much. 
Your voice is warm, soft around the edges. "Look at you. You're so thick, I got you so hard, huh? Look at how pretty you are." 
"G-God…" Aki mumbles. The mattress bounces as he flops back-first onto the bed, an arm tossed over his face; this time, you gently squeeze the tip between your thumb and your index. You're coaxing more precum to coat your knuckles and your fingers, slick and shiny when it drips down and gets his dick nice and wet — "Don't, I- oh f-fuck…" 
You're fisting the tip, gripping it in your palm and gently stroking — You grind it hard against your hand, squeeze and massage it between your fingers. Up and down, jerking him off by the tip, just the tip. A little faster, then. 'Til he can't only feel your touch, but hear it, too. 
Wetness clings to your hand, slick on the head of his cock and sticky on your skin. Aki can't breathe. You're going faster, he's panting harder, louder. His back arches, clumsily bucking him into your touch, he tenses up and he feels so good, so amazing. 
He could cum if you don't stop, just from this. He thinks by now, you probably know. 
Having him at your mercy is as perfect as you could have ever expected it to be. He's so goddamn needy, terribly touch starved, he's longed for this for so long, and you want to give him everything. Everything he can handle, whatever he needs. Aki moans, desperate and guttural, he runs a clumsy hand through his hair. The hitches in his breath, the gasps and the whines belong to you and you alone. 
If you could tease him for the rest of the night, watch him squirm and beg, see him cry from something other than his usual strife for a change, you'd be completely, utterly content. 
Your palm pumps the head of his cock to a steady, eager rhythm. His breathing is shaky, it's over and over and over as he pants, desperate for air. Desperate for anything. 
He's gonna cum, he's gonna cum already, all over your hand and the sheets and his own dick — 
But despite how toying you can be, you are merciful. 
You abruptly take your hand away, his length falls against his stomach. And Aki swears, he grunts a disgruntled-sounding fuck and takes loud, heavy breaths, his brows knotted, his jaw tensed. 
"There," You say softly, though your spine still tingles at the sound of his voice, "I'll stop. Take a breather." 
Aki lets out a sigh so heavy and long his lungs shake with the weight of it. He swallows, his voice sore. "I was close." 
Merciful, no; you'd be merciful if you let him finish, but you haven't. And something tells him you won't, not until you're satisfied. 
You tut, wiping your hand off onto the bedspread, "Uh-huh, I thought so. That's why I stopped. Come here, sit up again." 
Aki stays still for a few moments longer, chest heaving. When he's mustered up the energy, he pushes himself up with a quiet grunt, fingers rubbing circles on his temple, pushing messy strands of hair away from his face. He shifts to sit onto the end of the bed again, squirming to get his briefs off and stepping out of them when they pool at his ankles. You snatch them up so they'll at least be off the floor, tossing them to the other end of the bed. Palm to his forehead, he feels how hot his face has gotten. Heat burns under his shoulders when he stretches and rolls them backward. 
Elbows coming to rest on either of his thighs, you ask, "You alright?" 
He's gonna have to be. Aki nods, glancing down towards you. "Yeah." 
"You wanna keep going?" 
Again, he answers, "Yes." 
Carefully, you let your hand wrap around the thick base of his cock. You're barely touching, but it still gets him to shudder. The faint patch of his dark hair tickles your skin. Aki sighs, he tries to relax, leaning back and spreading his legs more. His heart hammers in his chest but his body feels limp, like he's weightless. 
"Is this alright?" You're glancing up at him through your lashes, "Should I keep going?" 
"Yes." Aki answers, "Please." 
Whatever was stressing you out at the beginning of the night doesn't matter. All the worries and the boredom mean nothing, they don't exist anymore. You can hardly remember how you were feeling then, what was going through your head, you've ceased to think about any of it. This moment is the only thing you care about — Aki is the only one you care about. 
Nothing else matters, nothing but the pretty look that overtakes his features once your hand grips harder and starts moving, nothing but the eager sigh he breathes out as a plea. Nothing is running though your mind but how perfect he feels in your palm: hard and silky and wet. 
It's clearer now than it ever was before just how sensitive he is, his dick twitches when you drag your palm up, throbs like a heartbeat when you squeeze too firmly on the first upstroke. You're as gentle as you can be to ease him into it. You keep your hand nice and loose, stroke him up, down. You wait a few moments for him to get used to the feeling, and then continue again. 
Being touched by you is what makes it all the more sweeter. Aki watches your movement with his breath already ragged, gaze flickering from your face to the work of your palm. He draws his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down to keep from falling apart. 
The slow pace of your hand on his cock becomes more manageable the more he gets used to it. Peering up at him, you ask him a question you're sure you already know the answer to. 
"Has anyone ever touched you like this before?" 
It's nice to hear your voice again. The sound is familiar, oddly comforting to him. Aki gasps when your palm swipes the sensitive head, he answers with a quick and barely audible no. That'd make you the first. 
The first to jerk him off, probably the first to see him like this. The first person to hear the way his voice sounds when it's breaking, the first to make him feel this way, the first to touch him here besides his own hand. 
Maybe you're the first to kiss him, too. God, his first kiss. 
You shouldn't say anything, but you can't seem to keep your mouth shut. "Was that your first kiss too? Earlier, I mean." 
It's indulgent, definitely. Possessive. Wrong of you, even. There's something certainly wrong with how your heart gets way too fucking fluttery, simply from the thought of finding yourself as Aki's first kiss; you, of all people, a total stranger. You were able to charm him enough to let his guard down, he's enamored with you to the point of no return. 
You aren't the type to act this way, you swear you aren't. But Aki makes everything easy. Is it so wrong of you to want to take his firsts for yourself? 
Fortunately, Aki's oblivious enough to indulge you. 
"No," He snaps, his voice threatens to waver, and you hate yourself for it, but you can't help but feel a slight, sudden tinge of disappointment. You take out the ire of that feeling by stroking his cock faster. 
"Hhah," Aki trembles, pleasure rushes through his veins and he can barely keep his eyes open and focused on you. "Not- not the first. But- doesn't matter. I haven't… nothing like that. I haven't done anything like that." 
You're smiling to yourself. "Yeah? Nothing as good, huh? You liked kissing me, didn't you?" 
If you weren't busy making him feel so good, if your touch wasn't so perfect, if he could think somewhat straight instead of nowhere near the mark at all, maybe he would have started to wonder why you're asking him such stupid questions. But he doesn't. 
"Yeah, yeah." Breath weighty in his lungs, a burning warmth spreads across the back of Aki's neck as your hand pumps his aching cock harder still, "S'good, so good. I… I want to- oh- Slow down, slow down, slow down…" 
His gasps turn to soft, open-mouthed whines, he muffles them with his palm, he's so loud it's shameful. Your touch disappears when you take your hand away, embarrassment is a creeping warmth on the end of his spine and Aki shuts his eyes tight. He takes in quick, choppy breaths, trying to slow them to calm down. It's no use, the burn in his lungs has him panting sharp and shaky. He leans his head back, his hair tickles his shoulders. Tapping your fingers against his thigh, running them along the wake of gooseflesh, you graciously give him a couple seconds to compose himself. 
"You okay?" You ask quietly. 
Aki swallows, nods. His hands are shaking. He props himself back up and watches in timid silence as you lean in, pressing a feather-light kiss to where his hip bone juts out from his side. Sighing, eyelids fluttery, Aki resists the urge to reach out and touch you. You place another kiss onto his stomach, you squeeze his thigh at the same time, and you can't resist smiling from the breathy, meager noise that leaves his lips. 
"Just relax. Take it easy." Hands at your sides, you speak slowly, calmly, until Aki is starting to mirror. "There's no reason to get so worked up. We've got all the time in the world." 
Steady, Aki exhales the breath he was holding. His posture straightens, he keeps his gaze fixated on you and watches as you come into focus, the knots in his brain untangling themselves. 
"I'll go slower this time." You say smoothly, "You'll be fine, focus on me. Okay?" 
In response, Aki nods again, harder than before, more assured. His muscles loosen when he grabs his shoulder and squeezes, rolling the tension out beneath his palm. He shifts, getting comfortable. Once he's settled, gaze rested on you in waiting, that's when you finally return to him. 
The budding warmth of him in your hand is a sensation you've grown used to, the gentle way his length pulses to the tune of his thudding heart are rhythmic enough to memorize. He's thick and heavy in your palm, already firm again when you stroke up, applying a slight pressure the closer you get to the head. Slick precum wets his slit, it drips onto your knuckles. 
Aki wobbles, the bridge of his nose crinkles and creases. Spots of light paint the darkness in his vision, his eyes closing. He exhales, calms, and he only now realizes the way his knuckles ache from clenching them so hard. Easing up his hands, he drums his fingers against the bed to give himself something else to do with them, he tries as best he can to keep his mind from racing. 
"There you go. Now you're relaxed." Your thumb gently brushes over the tip of his cock, Aki grits his teeth hard. "You've been so pent up, haven't you?" 
He tries, but he can't speak without stuttering: "I'm, ah, a little-" 
"When's the last time you touched yourself?" 
"I-" 
There's no way he can answer that. There's no reason to, either. But — 
"I… I don't know." Aki's voice comes out softer than he wanted it to, weak and airy when the words leave his throat. Your hand's stopped, his heart pounds audibly his ears. You stare at him expectantly, and Aki's eyes nervously scan you up and down. 
Your head tilts. "Too shy to tell me? That's okay." 
"No," Aki snaps, "I can't remember, it's been a while. Maybe a few months ago? Sorry, is that a stupid answer?" 
It might be, he doesn't know, but shame fades away to pleasure the moment your hand starts moving again. 
True to your word, once your rhythm's started up once more, you're much slower, much more careful. Your strokes are shallow, they're teasing, the fluid motion of your wrist keeps him panting, but right under the edge of getting overwhelmed. Your focus stays on him to will Aki to do the same, eyes on his, his own gaze cloudy with need, with anticipation. You watch the persistent rise and fall of his chest in your peripheral. 
"Is it 'cause you're too busy?" 
"A little, I'm, hhah," Aki stutters when your hand twists and then squeezes, "A little busy. Ever since my boss made me… s-shit," A soft grunt, "Ever since they moved in with me, I haven't had any time alone." 
Ever since they moved in with me, could he mean the trouble-makers from before? 
"Awe, is that so?" You coo, "Poor thing."
Aki's lips purse, his eyelids flutter, he nods his head and mutters a mix between a whine and a quiet mhmm. 
Your voice is sweet, heady like liquor, "It must've been forever since you last had some alone time, you're so sensitive. All you want is to be taken care of, don't you?" 
Head spinning, breath hot and sharp when it enters his lungs, Aki blinks away the blur taking over the edges of his vision. He tries not to choke at the sight of your delicate fingers wrapped right around his cock. Sensitive is exactly what he is when your palm caresses the fat head, making him gasp, his arms and his shoulders shivering, warmth in his chest and a fire underneath his veins. 
Aki sighs, "Yeah." He does. He wants to be taken care of, wants to be treated softly by you. 
"It's hard, huh? Hard to always have to be so strong." The heel of your palm rubs harder into his cockhead and Aki groans, tosses his head back until his hair is making a mess in his eyes. The smile on your face is deceptively innocent, "It's hard when you're a devil hunter. Even harder when you don't get all the love you deserve. You just wanna feel loved and safe and cared for. Isn't that right?" 
Right. You're right. And truthfully, he's never realized how badly he needed this until now, until he met you. 
It's so hard, every new day he spends slaughtering devils becomes harder and harder, and Aki wants to be weak, to let go, like you're all he has. He's spent so long in hell he didn't realize how much he craved to feel a dose of heaven. He couldn't have imagined the way he'd end up, or could have predicted where he is now, alone with you while all his senses spark alight, his heart in your waiting hands. 
But he doesn't regret anything. He's stupid, really stupid, stupid and insatiable and everything he thought he couldn't be — and he loves every second of it. 
Aki swallows. "Yeah, I want to." Trembling, and then steady, "But I already do. You make me- you're making me feel so…" 
You think your heart might explode. 
Your lips can't help but twist into a smile, you let your palms wander to give his thighs a playful squeeze. "You're such a sweetheart." 
Aki opens his mouth, he realizes he doesn't know what to say half-way through. 
So you continue on instead, "You think you can do something for me?"
"Uh," He clears his throat, "Sure." 
You reach for his wrist, gripping it tight, dragging him closer. 
"C'mere." 
Your hand guides his own — much larger than yours, the difference in size between his and your palms is way more noticeable when your hands are pressed to one another — and carefully, your hand wrapping back around his waiting cock, you bring his own hand to lay on top of yours. His palm brushes over your knuckles, his fingers twitch and jitter before they settle. His glance flickers towards you, gaze expectant, his lips slightly parted; your words are the only thing to finally crush his confusion. 
"Show me." 
"Huh?" 
"Show me how you touch yourself," You instruct, "I wanna see how you make yourself feel good." 
"Ah-" Aki's voice cracks, he looks away, fights the urge to take his hand away, too, "What you were doing was fine, you don't need to- I don't-"
You interrupt when Aki starts to trail off, "Please, Aki?" 
Funny how those few words are enough to make him start to forget why he ever wanted to object in the first place. Your eyes are big and pretty, practically sparkling. You tilt your head and fucking hell, he's never going to be able to resist you, is he? He exhales, letting out the biggest, longest sigh of exasperation. 
"Don't take it too seriously," You're saying. You laugh a little, and it makes your nose scrunch in a way Aki finds so endearing, "It'll be fun, I swear. You'll enjoy this. Relax, alright?" 
Aki scoffs, breathing a soft tsk, mostly to himself. He gives you one more glance, pleading look and all. His shoulders slump, he pushes his bangs from his face with his other hand and sighs again, in defeat this time. 
"Okay," He answers, "Alright."
Warmth burns hard in the apples of his cheeks. He bites down firmly on his bottom lip to steady himself, his fingers flex as he curls his hand around yours more comfortably. He glances towards you, shyly glances back down. Slowly, his palm begins to guide yours. 
And Aki moves, touching himself with your own hand. 
The languid rhythm he sets isn't much different from how your own was; he takes your hand up, down, lazy and smooth. He adjusts, spreading his legs wider to get a better grip. You stay focused on him, your expression soft, intoxicating, near impossible to look away from. Aki tries to ignore his nerves when he feels them inching up his spine, he closes his eyes to make it easier, his head slightly tossed back as he concentrates on your gentle palm, on the way your pretty hand jerks him off. 
The feeling is similar to before, similar to when he'd do this by himself. But at the same time, it's different — It'll always be different, because it's your hand instead of his. 
Your palm is smaller, much more delicate. He'd noticed the difference between you when you first started touching him. Hell, he knew how small your hand was compared to his own when you first grabbed it all those hours ago. The thought then made his heart pound. The sensation of it now makes him ache. 
You don't have the calluses he does, or the scars, the bruises. Your touch is tender. Your touch is nothing like what he thinks he deserves, everything he could have ever longed for. His body's warm when the idea of you shakes inside his feeble chest and even weaker head. The look in your eyes makes him want to say something, to tell you how you make him feel, to explain how desperately he's longed for you. He can't come up with anything worthwhile. Soft, wet sounds fill the empty space instead. 
His knuckles are filthy already. He catches a steady dribble of precum when he drags your hand up, he brings your palm over the tip and makes it slicker. Gentle breaths pair with every slow pump of his arm. His brows furrow each time he strokes to the top, his expression relaxes when he takes your touch back down. A prominent vein in his wrist bulges out each time he squeezes. 
Aki can feel your gaze on him, even with his eyes closed. He's tried to stay composed. Tried not to lose whatever was left of his mind, but it's no use, it's never been. Even though he's the one guiding you, even though he's setting the pace, you're the one holding all the control — You could tell him to do absolutely anything right now and he would. One last word, one more please and he'd give all of himself to you, everything that remains. 
Your voice is calming, quiet. He was almost beginning to miss what it sounded like: "You're so gentle. Do you go any faster?" 
"No, I usually… I start off slow." Aki answers, the heat beneath his cheeks blossoming brighter. Strong enough to burn him alive, but he forces himself to continue through, "I've gotta get… used to it," He breathes a shaky gasp, timid hand leading your palm until you swipe over the needy tip of his cock, "Shit, so sensitive." 
"You think about anything when you're doing this by yourself? Maybe someone you like?" 
Aki exhales, he gulps hard enough to shake his Adam's apple, dragging your hand back down to the hilt, "I don't like anyone that way." 
With his eyes still closed, he hasn't been able to tell, but when your warm breath fans over his aching length, hot and fuzzy and so much but at the same time, nothing at all — He can feel how close you've leaned in. 
You continue, "Do you think about having sex?" 
"No. I guess not." Aki lets his eyes open, he stares up at the ceiling. His chest expands with the deep gulp of air he takes, "I focus on the feeling. Let my mind go blank. I don't really think about anything." 
A coy smirk tugs at the corners of your cheeks. 
Perfect. This'll be another first, then. 
"You wanna try thinking about it?" Your eyes meet his own when Aki glances down, he starts to say something but interrupts himself with a sharp breath in when you give his cock a teasing squeeze, deviating from his instructions. Yet he doesn't look away. 
"Think about," He grunts, playing dumb, "Think about what?" 
"While I'm touching you, why don't you think about having sex with me?" 
Aki's eyes go wide. His mouth falls open, lips slightly ajar. He freezes in place, his expression twists from disbelief to something apprehensive. 
"I can't do that." He's matter-of-fact with his answer. Stern, surely positive. If you knew any better you'd think he was scolding you. You'll change his mind very, very quickly. 
"Sure you can. Here, my turn," You bat his hand away, leaving just yours touching, and Aki awkwardly hovers it in the air for a few long seconds before hesitantly placing it back down at his side. "What, are you too nervous?" 
"Somewhat." 
"Well, don't be." 
"That doesn't help." 
"I bet it's 'cause you're one of those people, like you have a bad imagination," You chuckle, the sound bubbly and light, "I'll help you out, don't worry. Lean back, close your eyes if you have to. All you have to do is try and picture what I tell you." 
Aki blinks once, twice. 
"Think you can do that for me? Pleeease. Just try." 
With a disgruntled, loud exhale through his nose, he finally gives in. You're smiling wider as he shifts back, relaxing, resting his weight on his palms, and allowing his eyes to flutter shut. 
"You ready?" 
Aki nods, "Yeah. Keep going." 
His hands clench the moment your palm starts stroking him again. The tension leaves his limbs like an ebbing wave; quick, anxious beats of his heart turn into loud, thudding echoes he can feel deep in his chest and hear in his ears. Your touch is deliberate, his cock is aching and sensitive; a few pumps of your hand are enough to get him hard around your fingers already, breathing in short pants, utterly desperate. 
"Think about, hm," The pad of your thumb rubs circles into his cockhead, and Aki shivers, gritting his teeth firmly to get himself to focus. You're continuing, "Think about me and you. We're at your place. In your bedroom." 
Listen, focus. Aki takes a steady inhale in, out, trying as best he can manage to bring a picture to the scene. 
It would be dark, the lights off. The moon would hang high in the night sky. Your figure bathed in shadow, you'd be spread out over his navy blue bed sheets, arms sprawled above you, reaching up towards the headboard. His alarm clock would tick, tick, tick. The sounds of the city fill his bedroom's empty space: the low hum of distant sirens, the rumble of the trains. The cacophony which would inevitably come from his not-a-guest-room-anymore guest room would quickly drown out everything. 
He wonders if the two of you would ever get a moment alone. He'd push his dresser in front of his bedroom door because it doesn't have a lock. He'd kick the two idiots out for the day — No, no, they'd just come walking in anyways, ruining everything, because whatever Aki says not to do is exactly what they end up doing. 
It's giving him a headache. His face is starting to tense up, eyebrows knitted, jaw clenched. You notice. "Don't overcomplicate things." 
Aki huffs. "I'm trying."
From the base to the head, your hand strokes his dick, squeezing harder the closer you get to the tip until precum is wet on his slit and he's covering his mouth to muffle the sound of a soft whine. God, how is he this fucking sensitive? 
The smoothness of your voice is his only tether to reality. "Let's try something else, maybe." 
"I… I'm sorry," Aki's thighs twitch, his head spins. He lets go of his held breath, his hips shift from restlessness. "Alright." 
"It's okay. Relax. Just try your best."
Aki breathes in. "Okay."
"How about you think of us right here? Y'know, maybe a little while from now on." Your hand pumps his cock faster, and Aki feels his pulse thrum rampant in his throat. "I'm on top of you, your hands are on my waist. Picture me in your lap like I was before, picture me touching you, just like this." 
Gulping, he answers again, "Okay. I got it." 
And he tries. 
This new scene is easier to imagine now. You'd be on top of him, the neon light of the room frames your silhouette from behind you. All your clothes would be off, and his, too. You're pressed close to his own body with your skin warm, shimmering from sweat. Your hair is a mess, you're taking up every corner of his vision until you're the only thing he can perceive. One of your hands lays softly on his cheek; your phantom touch feels as real and as perfect as what he's come to be familiar with. 
You'd grip and stroke him, just the same as in this moment. Your delicate palms would caress his neck, the length of his shoulders, down his chest. You'd brush his messy bangs from his eyes and kiss him on the corner of his mouth, gentle, but teasing enough to make him woozy. 
He'll get to that point with you tonight if he isn't careful. These ideas in his head are very much real. That only makes them all the more intoxicating. 
This time, your voice comes out at barely more than a whisper: "Are you imagining it? Thinking of me touching you? I'd make you feel so good, Aki. And then, I'd offer to make you feel even better." 
Every thought in his head spins in circles, never getting anywhere. Aki focuses on your touch, on each pleasurable pump of your hand on his length. 
"Yeah, yeah," Aki sighs, breath trembling, "When I think about it, I- Oh, fuck-"
When you'd grab him by his waist and sink down on him, skin against skin once he's all the way inside, when you'd wrap your arms around his shoulders and ride his aching cock until your rhythm of sighs are a mantra in his ear; he'd follow along, gripping you tight, fucking up into you as much as it takes to get you louder — Aki groans. He covers his face with both hands, he can't stop himself from rocking his hips into your touch, grinding his cock into your palm, desperate for more friction. 
He's breathless, he feels filthy, his mind can't stop conjuring the thought of you pressed close to him, your fingers running through his hair, plush lips pressed to his nape while he's buried deep inside you. God, he's terrible, he's dirty for imagining this, and yet he can't fucking stop. What the hell is he doing? 
Aki pictures how you'd coo into his ear, how the tones to your voice that he's already managed to memorize would echo sweet gasps and even sweeter utterances of his name. You'd cling to each syllable like it's special as you say it for him, over and over again. Aki, Aki, Aki. 
Please, Aki. I need you. 
He's losing his mind. The sensible half of him tells him he needs to get a grip. But it's a little hard, impossible, even, to do so when your hand is stroking his needy cock, and when his whole body feels light, when he's gotten so hard he's practically aching. His thighs are trembling, his heart is beating wild inside his chest. 
So, he decides he won't stop you. Aki grunts low in his throat, his eyes flutter open, but he closes them again when a glimpse at your pretty face staring up at him only makes the picture in his head even clearer. 
He knows you're smirking now. 
"Does it feel good?" You purr, and it's in that same sweet voice he was imagining, "You thinking about fucking me?" 
"Y-Yes…" Aki answers, panting, hesitant and quiet, like he's almost hoping you won't end up hearing him. 
But you do, "Yeah? Tell me what you're thinking of." 
Your hand pumps him firmly, he's slick, silky underneath your touch; the sound it makes every time you drag upward is indecent, disgustingly wet. Precum drips from his cockhead in steady droplets. You swipe the tip with your palm and coat the rest of his length in his arousal. 
Aki's words are shaky: "You're… you're on top of me. And you're kissing me, and I'm- I…" 
You squeeze him harder, the rest of whatever he was trying to say catches in his throat and he nearly chokes, his shoulders tense. He can't even think anymore, and he couldn't possibly say anything to you when he cracks his eyes open and meets your gaze — for only a few moments, but enough to make pleasure boil hotter and deeper in the pit of his stomach, warmth traveling up the length of his spine. 
He tries to speak, just one more time. His sentence barely starts before he's cutting himself off, gasping and sputtering, blown out pupils hidden behind fluttering eyelids. His bottom lip trembles alongside every ragged breath he takes. 
You wanted for him to keep going. Wanted to hear him tell you all about how that sweet head of his imagined taking you — and you're normally patient enough to wait. Up until now, you've been unbelievably patient. You can't deny you like dragging things out with him, you enjoy watching him beg and squirm as he tries his best to keep up. You should give him time, let him have another break, and normally, you would. Normally. 
Aki swallows, he pushes his hair from his face and it's clear his hand is shaking. His palm lingers, hiding the scarlet hue to his cheeks. He mumbles a muffled swear, he sighs out the softest please, and as you find yourself leaning in closer, you finally lose the last of your restraint. 
He feels the tickle of your breath on his length first, warm and devilishly subtle. His fingers twitch, he swallows again to chase away the dryness in his throat, harder this time. He can't look. Then, there's the faint ghost of your lips, and as they press ever-so gently to the thick tip of his cock, kissing it softly, that's when Aki practically melts. 
His shoulders slump, his head tilts back. Tingles rack his nerves, his heart pumps fast, hard. He can barely focus on anything but the feeling, too caught up with how you're starting to trail sloppy kisses down his cock; you kiss the right side, lean over and kiss the left. You admire the way his dick throbs beneath your lips, pulsing to the tune of his breathing: sharp, quick, and desperate. 
There's something so tender about your touch, softness in intensity. There's a feeling budding deep in his center he can't begin to get enough of every time he sees you on your knees, between his legs, a saccharine look in the back of your eyes. When you continue to press warm kisses to his length, palm on his thigh to keep him steady, desire wells hot in his chest. He wants to touch you, hold you, keep you closer than anything he's ever had before because he needs this, needs you. God, does he need you. 
Your kisses travel up the sensitive underside of his cock, and as your tongue swipes right under the head, Aki fists the sheets so hard he feels his joints ache. 
"F-Fuck," The pleasure's practically overwhelming, Aki pants forcefully as if his lungs are pleading for air, "Fuck, oh God- please, I-" 
Voice wobbling and fraying, he can hardly speak; the tip of your tongue flicks against his cockhead, wet and teasing, and he's done, utterly done for. 
His entire body shivers, he sighs out whines too high-pitched for his usual tone. Your gaze flutters up, and Aki's sweating, quite literally dripping with sweat. Droplets cascade down his jaw, his chest shiny, skin glistening. Despite his best efforts, his hair has made a mess around his face again. His pulse is quick enough to feel, pounding feverishly in his ears. 
Your hand pumps his cock fast. It's wetter now, slick from the mix of your saliva and his precum. He lets his eyes roll back, his mouth falling open. He moans at your touch, broken and feeble, loud enough that the room over would hear if the walls weren't already soundproof. 
His taste is salty on your tongue when you swirl it around his tip, heady, taking over your senses. You lick his cockhead until he starts to go dizzy, quick flicks of your tongue making him twitch. You close your lips around, sucking softly when you feel him throb — and to your satisfaction, he only throbs harder. An incessant, needy pulse, he breathes deeper with the same sort of weight, gasping forcefully. He spreads his legs open as wide as they'll go, and leans further backward. 
It feels so fucking good. He's shaking, his thighs and his hands trembling. You kiss him again, lips on the warm length of his cock, and his palms fly up to shyly cover his face, his stomach flexes — You know he's close. 
And you were just getting started. 
"Don't cum yet." 
Lips hovered a centimeter away, you breathe the words onto his sensitive tip, the sensation sharper now that he's coated in your saliva. As your hand twists up the length of his cock, squeezing, he groans in a mix of pleasure and disappointment. You're quiet, and you almost think he didn't end up hearing you, but with his eyes shut tight and his temple creased, he finally answers, frantically shaking his head. 
"No, no…" Aki pleads, he's full-blown whining, his voice is weak and trembles like he'll cry. When you abruptly let go of him, taking your hand away to leave him throbbing against nothing, his bottom lip quivers and he practically sobs. 
"No, please, you can't… Please don't stop, I wanna- oh, please, please." 
Only a few seconds without you, and he's needy already, dribbling precum while his thighs shake; his face is flushed with vibrant warmth, and his head dips to hide it, eyelids fluttering between open and closed. His hair falls around his pretty pierced ears, the ends of them burning in shades of pink and red. He pants, chest heaving, up, down. 
"Awe, c'mon. You've been so good for me up 'til now." You offer him the smallest reprieve when your lips press against his cock in a faint kiss, and he can't help but whimper softly. "Try and hold out for a little bit longer." 
Aki's voice sounds pathetic when it lilts, "I- I can't. I'm so close." 
"I know you can, you'll do it for me, right?" You're purring, pleading, but it's less of a plea when you're already sure he'll do everything you tell him to. "Please, try?" 
And you're right. There isn't a single possibility where he'd ever be able to say no to you. 
Aki's mind goes foggy as all the blood rushes to his head, making him dizzy. He wants to cum on your tongue or your hand or wherever you'll let him so goddamn badly it's the only thing he can think about, and the thought of having to hold out for any longer is enough to send him reeling. 
He's not sure how much more of this he can take, even if he tried. The smallest touch from you and he thinks he'll explode. Every part of his body is tense, begging for release. 
But he can't say no. He couldn't. He won't, because it's you. Because you're sweet and perfect, because you promised to take care of him and he trusts that, trusts you. You know he can, and it's all he needs to hear. 
Aki sighs in defeat. He meets your gaze, his eyes glossy with tears that haven't fallen yet; he blinks hastily to do away with them, and he nods his head, giving in. 
You smile. You smile, and it makes everything worthwhile. 
"Breathe, okay?" Your thumb rubs slow circles onto his tip, a tingly warm feeling returns to his gut, "Take deep breaths. I'm gonna take care of you. It'll feel so good when you finally finish, I promise." 
Aki steadies himself, rubbing his temple with his fingers. He rolls his shoulders back, loosening them. 
"Go slow," He says at last. He swallows, still slightly shaky, "Go slow or I'll cum." 
Eagerly, your lips pressing to the warm head of his cock, you mutter a muffled mhmm. The noise sends pleasant vibrations down his length, and Aki groans quietly, urging you on. 
Your hand grips the base of his cock to keep him situated. The promise you made to take care of him comes in the form of your wet tongue pressed flat on the underside, hand slowly pumping his length to get him ready, and your eyes closing as you start to take him into your mouth. 
He's thick. He makes your throat tense up the more of him you try to swallow. You're unprepared for this, the same as he is. You shouldn't push yourself, but when he feels this perfect in your mouth, and when he's sighing, making such pretty noises already, you just aren't able to resist. 
And even though tears are pricking at your lashes and your throat aches like you're going to choke, you need to hear more, give him more — You don't stop until you're at least halfway down. Until your hand is doing the rest of the work, and Aki's rewarding you with a whine, then a cute hitched gasp. He keeps his hands clenched at his sides, veins protruding from his knuckles when he fists the sheets and grips. 
And God, is he hard, he must be aching. He won't stop throbbing to a rapid rhythm even once you're pulling back, sucking hard on the tip before sinking down when you're itching to feel him in your mouth again. His taste is addicting, strong, and you lick all the way up his length, drooling a mess of saliva onto his cock. You flick your tongue at his slit and breathe cool air onto him, watching the way he squirms. He'll cum soon if you aren't careful. 
But Aki is pliant, despite your teasing. He's good. He can wait. 
Even though he's already overwhelmed, he lets you place messy kisses all over his dick, he glances down and his gaze connects with yours as you're taking him back into your mouth — You're all droopy eyelids and soft eyes, his heart stops the moment you look at him, but now you're swallowing his cock down to the hilt and he can't look away. Can't do anything, in fact. Anything but hopelessly feel his breath come in short pants, gasping to the same tune as the lovely patter in his warm chest. 
You keep your face buried in his pelvis until you start to get lightheaded. You're hollowing your cheeks, gently sucking while you pull back. And when you go down again, screwing your eyes shut and whimpering weakly around him from the pace you've set, Aki moans loud. You bob your head on his cock and his noises partially drown out your own: quiet gags, wet sputters. 
Your head goes up and down, you drag upward to give yourself a break and catch your breath. Reaching for his hand, your tongue swirling around the head, your eyes half-open, you grip his wrist. You guide his palm to rest on the back of your head and sink back down at the same time. He keeps it there, shaky and hesitant at first, but when you gag on him and he suddenly needs something to hold onto, he's gripping tightly at your hair, his knuckles flexing. 
This is debauched, and he knows it. You've given up on holding back, the noises you're making and the sight of you is downright disgusting, spit glistening on your lips and his shaft, your eyes shut, choking feebly as you suck him off. Your cheeks are wet with tears, and he reaches to brush them away with his thumb. 
He knows, but he doesn't want you to stop, you can't stop. Holding your face in his hand, he admires you, unable to look away. You're gorgeous, your pretty eyes teary, your mouth on his cock. He's felt more in this moment than he has in forever — or perhaps he's never felt anything so intense, never been this tender-hearted. Not until you. With you, it begins and it ends, always. 
You've got his dick down your throat, and all Aki can think about is how much he adores you. 
Your pace increases, teetering on the edge of what you can handle. The tip of his cock rubs the soft inside of your cheek. Then, you're grabbing his thighs, coaxing them apart more and gripping them for leverage. You swirl your tongue as you take him, forgetting the need to breathe in order to lavish him as much as you want to, as much as he deserves. 
The way it feels, fuck, the way it sounds — Aki is sure he could never hope to get your voice out of his mind, the hums you make when he rubs the back of your head affectionately, brushing your hair from your face with his fingers. The chokes you utter as you take him deeper, deeper. You're close to crying, but you aren't stopping, you don't stop because you're too addicted. 
He's overwhelming every time he fills your throat, but you love this too much: the noises he makes through his teeth, the blissed out look on his face. You peer up at him through your lashes, your vision blurry, and Aki's gaze is heavy, locked onto yours. His bangs are a thick mess around his forehead, his chest rises and falls. The ragged melody of his breathing fills your ears; you're obsessed with his taste, with the soft touch of his hand on the back of your head. 
His grip on your hair tightens. You stop for a moment, pulling back and placing a kiss to his needy cockhead, to which Aki instantly huffs a sigh of relief. Your gaze on his, you keep your tone at barely more than a whisper. 
You ask him, "How's it feel?" 
"Good," Aki's voice cracks like he's forgotten how to speak, "Feels good." 
"Yeah? Keep talking to me." 
You trail your tongue up his length, he's already soaked with your drool; you lick a stripe across the thick head and his fingers start to shake. 
"Your mouth is- it's warm," He starts, already panting, swallowing thickly, his throat dry, "Pretty, you're so pretty. Can you- please, ah- yeah, that's it…" 
Your lips close around him, and you take him back into your mouth, giving him just what he was hoping for. Aki feels all of his muscles tense, then relax. Working the rest of his cock with your hand, you run your tongue along his length's underside, licking and swirling, 'til he's in heaven. 
"Oh, fuck- just like that," He encourages, his words shaky. Watching you try so hard to please him fills him with a bubbly warm sense of adoration, "I'm close, really close, I- oh- don't stop…"
His head tosses back, his moans are loud and desperate. Your mouth is irresistibly warm, so wet, your chokes send the most pleasant vibrations over his cock and make it impossible to try to speak. Your head bobs up and down recklessly as you focus on him and his pleasure alone. The rest of your mind is utterly blank. His grip grows stronger close to your scalp, so tight it nearly stings. He loosens his hold when he realizes he doesn't want to hurt you. 
Fog in his head and a pounding in his heart, he's getting restless, impulsive, starting to move more — Aki clumsily bucks his hips up the next time you sink down, the slightest movement forcing him further down your throat, added pleasure making him moan, deep and guttural. He gasps, thighs trembling. He starts meeting the bobs of your head with gentle thrusts into your mouth, and he's so out of it you're not even sure if he realizes what he's doing. 
Aki can't think, his head is spinning too fast, everything is dizzy. There's no way he can hold back any longer but he couldn't bother to care, he's so close and your pretty wet mouth feels so good and he needs to cum, God he needs to cum — 
"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop," Aki begs in slurs of words and stuttered gasps, a roll of his hips fucking him deeper into your mouth. His vision is going white, he's struggling to keep looking at you; eyes watering, like he might cry, "Please, don't-" 
You drag off of his cock with a strong suck and a pop of your lips, his pleasure wavers and wanes, but then comes back to him strong as ever once your hand twists and squeezes at the base of his cock, moving upward. Your tongue swirls over the sensitive head, your gaze flickers up to meet his own. And you have your eyes on his, tongue greedily flicking his flushed cockhead, warm soft stare the sweetest thing he's ever seen — and that's enough. You suck on the tip with a harsh, wet sound and he's melting, heat rushing his system all at once. 
"I'm- I c-can't," He sounds pathetic, "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-"
Pleasure buds and explodes in the pit of his stomach, you hum around him in approval, soft vibrations enough to burst that final bubble; Aki whimpers, chokes on air, and then he's throwing his head back, gasping hard. His Adam's apple bobs solid in his throat, his cock twitches and his hands shake. You hold your breath and sink down on him, warmth enveloping his length as he cums in your mouth. 
The feeling hits you before the taste. Thick and warm, heady on your tongue, his dick throbbing steadily through his release. Your temple knots up in your efforts not to swallow. You grip his thighs and squeeze them tightly, admiring the cracks in his voice, the lilts of his moans. Desperate ah's and quiet swears strain his normally smooth tone into a weak, high-pitched mess. If he sounds this good when he cums for you, you aren't going to be able to stop here. 
How much you've teased him shows in how much he has to give you, his cum quickly fills your mouth and forces you to pull back. Even once you do, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, it's still dribbling from his cock, such a mess. His dick is slippery and soaked from your saliva, his skin caked in sweat. Your head clears slowly, it gets easier to breathe. You watch Aki pant with a placid expression on his face, an expression you've never seen on him before, lips parted and his eyes barely open. His arms quiver slightly, trembling from the aftershocks. 
His head spins, his heart pounds until it calms. His cheeks blister with warmth, his chest aches from the weight of his breaths. He reaches up, running a palm over his face, rubbing his eyes — his vision goes fuzzy, then returns after he blinks — and he pushes messy strands of hair away, tucking them behind his ears. When he glances down at you, you're already looking up at him. There's a slight smile on your face, captivating as ever.  
Pretty, you're so pretty. 
continue reading on ao3
hello! I'm sorry to have to cut the fic off here, but unfortunately tumblr won't allow the entirety of this chapter to be posted because it's so fucking long... if you like it so far and you want to read the rest pls consider hopping over to ao3... thank you 🫂
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astroboots · 10 months
Text
Every You Every Me Issue #3
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader
Summary: You are determined to meet your Spider-benefactor face to face and you go to ever increasing extreme lengths to do so. Problem is, Miguel O'hara is very uncooperative to your plans.
Word count: 5,500 words.
Content: Slowest of the burn, so slow you wonder if it's even burning. Near death experiences, the state of the economy and how expensive it is to live in a big city, the emotional whiplash of Miguel O'Hara.
Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist
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You saw them in the window display of a bakery in Greenwich Village. Round sugar cookies with red frosting and white eyes, decorated as a tribute to everyone's favorite neighborhood Spiderman.
Before you had time to properly think things over (would he even like the cookies? Is he on a strict superhero diet and workout plan? What if he's gluten intolerant?) you were already standing in front of the cash register having a dozen of them wrapped up in fancy crinkly paper and were $72 dollars poorer. 
Charging six dollars per cookie is practically highway robbery, but that's par for the course with New York bakeries. You wouldn’t be surprised if every bakery in New York was already a part of Wilson Fisk’s criminal empire. 
As you push open the door, box in hand, you wonder wryly to yourself why Spiderman’s ruder alter ego isn't there to save you from that.
You wonder, for Superheroes, what classifies as an event worth intervening in and what everyday citizens need to be saved from?
Financial ailment doesn't quite seem to qualify from what you've been able to glean so far.
Tony Stark, for all the wealth he’s amassed (a large enough treasure hoard that he would be capable of buying the whole planet of Mars according to Forbes) isn't massively involved with charities. He only donates to the one: his own. And the Stark Foundation is really just Tony Stark paying reparations for the damage he and his buddies caused in the first place.
Thor is an actual deity, and you still remember that write-up in Esquire magazine, where local waiters in New Mexico had called him a terrible tipper and a habitual smasher of glassware.
Assault and battery is up in the air. There are accounts of Superheroes intervening; that Tiktok videos of She-Hulk breaking up a bar fight that went viral a few weeks back. But then equally, there are memes of Doctor Strange peeking out the window of Sanctum Sanctorum watching a street fight unfold,, utterly uninterested in getting involved. The internet labeled it as "mood". 
As for murder and mayhem, there's a longstanding public debate as to whether Superheroes cause more than they prevent. Case in point: that Moon Knight guy that paints the streets of London red.
There is no rule book written to explain how Superheroes decides who is worth saving and who is not.
Does one have to be important and have a material effect on the state of the world?
If so, you fall pitifully short. The most world-changing decision you made as of late was deciding to opt out of utensils on your last GrubHub order to help save the environment.
So it makes you wonder: Why on earth has this non-costume accurate Spiderman saved you, not once, not twice, but 13 times to date?
That’s just the first of many questions you’d like to ask him. What does he know that you don’t? Does he know why the universe seems to be out to get you lately? Or why death itself is following you everywhere you go, nipping at your heels?
You haven’t had the chance to ask him anything, because despite all of your encounters, you haven't met him face to face since that very first time. 
Inconveniently, you don't exactly have a way of contacting him. Superheroes aren't listed in the phone book. 
With no other way to reach out, you go at it the old fashioned way. You write him a note from a page you've ripped out of your notebook:
‘Thank you for saving me. Can we meet? I have questions.’
You place the note on the window sill. Setting the plate with $72 dollars worth of Spiderman cookies on top of the left corner of the paper to make sure it doesn't get blown away in the wind. Then you leave the window open for the first time since you've moved into this apartment before heading to bed.
There's nothing else to do but to wait. 
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You wake to the spit and splatter of rain against your window. It's gray outside, and the cookies you set out the night before remain untouched. You frown at the sight, but you can't say you're surprised.
There was never any real indication that he was lurking around you. Superheroes are bound to have more interesting things on their schedule than stalking a random insurance employee.
You don't know why you thought this would work in the first place.
Getting out of bed, you walk up to your window to inspect the scene. The note is where you have left it, ink a little smeared from the rain, where the plate has kept it in place on the right corner.
That seems odd, now that you think about it. You stare at the note, eye drawn to the watermarks. Why are there water stains bleeding into the paper if your window was closed? As crappy as your rundown apartment can be, water damage is the one thing you haven't had issues with.
You draw your eyes to the closed window being smattered with the rain outside. Didn't you leave the window open last night? You're pretty sure you did, hoping that the open window would be seen as a gesture of invitation. You had left it open… right?
You did.
You're sure you did.
He must’ve been here.
Rude, not-costume-accurate Spiderman was here.
Right?
Your eyes flicker back to the window.
Or maybe you did close the window?
You close your eyes trying to recall your evening, packing the length of your apartment as you replay the memory. Suddenly, you're not so sure anymore. You always close your window, and even though you had every intention of keeping it open last night, who is to say you didn't close it out of sheer habit?
It's strange. Because if he was here, he would've spotted the note. But it's in the same spot you left it yesterday right under the plate on the left side of it...
You eye the undisturbed note tucked under the right corner of the plate.
Wait, wait. Didn't you put the note under the left side of the plate?
You did.
Yes, you definitely did.
Which means, he was here... Right?
You feel like you are going insane.
Are you seeing things that are not there? Was he actually here and if so why did he go to such lengths to pretend otherwise. Why would he passive-aggressively gaslight you into thinking he was never here?
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You decide on a redo.
Because if you can't trust yourself and your questionable memory, you can trust a recording.
A teddy bear nanny cam sets you back $50. Not cheap, but not as outrageous as your stale-cardboard-tasting Spiderman cookies. 
You set it up on your dresser opposite your window and link it to your phone as per the instructions.
As for the bait. After having tasted those brick cookies for yourself, putting it out for a second night for a man who has saved your life repeatedly didn't seem right. You decide to bake them yourself this time.
The added bonus is that you get to mix blue food coloring into the frosting for the decoration that goes on top. In retrospect, the red Spiderman cookies from last time might’ve implied that you’re calling him a knock-off Spiderman. 
Besides, even with the cost of living crisis: a bag of flour, baking powder, unsalted butter, sugar and eggs cost a lot less than $72 dollars.
This time, you don't write him a sloppily put together note. You decide to write him a proper letter. 
If he did visit your apartment, (and you're not just going insane) the fact that he moved the note meant that he must've read it. 
This note didn’t work. 
It must not have been compelling enough, you were kind of in a hurry… 
You’ll have to write something better this time. Longer. More emotionally compelling. Surely if you take the time to really explain your plight, you can make him understand why it’s so important he talks to you! 
The problem is that it’s hard to sound serious when it’s written on lined paper from your ruled notebook. 
That won’t do. You go to the nearest stationery store in your neighborhood, a chain outlet of Paper Source to get yourself some decent looking stationary paper with a matching colored envelope to boot. 
You immediately regret this part of your plan, because it ends up setting you back another $26 dollars. Why is 6 pieces of paper so damn expensive anyhow? Surely there’s a few trees left in the world to chop down?!
$102 dollars down in your bank balance, you sit down at your dining table that night, pen in hand and begin writing. You pour your heart onto the pages, setting out in as precise words as you can manage the effect your near death incidents have had on you. 
How scared you are, how confused you are, but also how grateful you are that he's saved you, again and again and again. That you believe if you and him can just meet in person and talk, if you could ask questions and figure out why this is happening, then maybe you can find a way to stop it from happening again.
Then you fold the letter and tuck it neatly into the matching envelope and slide it under the left side of the cookie plate and go to sleep.
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When you wake the next morning, nothing seems out of the ordinary.
The cookies are still neatly arranged on your plate. The letter snugly tucked underneath it.
On the left side this time, you note. 
It doesn’t look like he came. 
The only thing is that you swear that the envelope is now several inches further to the left than where you left it last night.
Again, maybe that’s just wishful thinking.
You pull up your phone, opening the app linked to the nanny cam and press play.
There is nothing but the still frame of your studio apartment, your bed to the right and your window square in the camera-view. You speed up the video, but the only thing that takes you by surprise is that you apparently toss a lot more in your sleep than you thought.
The camera footage goes well into 3am, and you’re resigning yourself to the fact that this was all down to your imagination.
He didn't come last night. Probably didn't come the night before. Most likely you woke up from the rain, closed the window and were too sleepy to remember.
You sigh, setting down your phone on the table, prepared to let this whole endeavor go.
On your screen, a smudged shadow appears in the corner of the window. You jump to your feet from your seat, knocking your chair over in the process with a raucous thud. The dark figure grows larger on your screen, dark navy blue and lines of stark red that perches itself onto your window sill.
YES! yes-yes-yes! You knew it. You fucking goddamn knew it!
You were right.
Adrenaline buzzes victoriously in your veins, and you grip your phone harder. Your heart is pounding so fast and hard in your chest you can hear the drumming beat of it in your ears.
He was here!
(You're not cuckoo for cocoa puffs).
You watch as his large figure sits on your window sill. He's still wearing his mask, and while you can't make out the expressions underneath, the outline where his eyes would have been, painted in dark blue, now narrow into a slit on your screen. 
There's a hostility emanating from that glare that you are able to sense all the way from the opposite side of the screen. He stares down at the plate of cookies suspiciously. Then he just stays there, unmoving, having a staring competition with the cookies you baked in his image.
In the privacy of your living room, you have the luxury of taking the time to get a proper look at him without interruption. It's hard to ignore the fact of just how tightly fitted to his skin that suit is. The dark blue fabric clings to every line of muscles on his body and it makes your cheek prickle with heat when you look. It feels voyeuristic somehow, but you can't help but think that the more modest alternative would be if he had worn nothing at all.
He's absurdly ripped. Muscular doesn't even begin to describe it. Broad shoulders and a narrow tapered waist segueing into obscenely thick and defined thighs that have your eyes linger for far too long. You shake your head to snap yourself out of it, Jesus you are acting like a creep. This isn’t OnlyFans, though lord knows you paid for this privilege! $102 for a cam video! 
On the footage, there is finally movement. He reaches for a cookie, bringing it to his mouth. The blue fabric dematerializes on his lower face until it reveals his tanned skin and that ridiculously cut jaw of his.
His mouth parts. Fangs protrude where his canine teeth are supposed to be and the sight makes you nearly drop your phone in shock.
Is this Spiderman a vampire? Or is he like a tarantula Spiderman with fangs to match?
You watch in suspended horror as he bites into the cookie, those sharp fangs of his are in plain view as he chews. 
He leans over to reach for a second cookie and all your trepidation is forgotten for a second, because if he’s reaching for a second one, it must mean he likes them. You grin at your screen, culinary pride beating out any caution or fear you may have had. 
Then he lifts up the plate, picking up the letter. The anticipation is too much. You press your face closer to the screen to try to get closer, because your screen is too small to pick up any possible nuances in his expression. 
He's carefully opening the envelope as he starts to read. It's impossible to tell what he's thinking. There's no visible change of facial expressions in the outline of his masked eyes. His mouth, which is bared to you, doesn't so much as twitch.
It doesn’t take long for him to read it. When he's done, he tucks the letter back under the plate. Then he bends down over the plate of cookies, and for a moment you think he’s going in for a third. Instead his hand lingers on the plate, before he starts to slide the remaining cookies around the plate to your confusion. You watch in confusion as he picks up the cookies one by one to space them out more evenly. You don't quite understand what he's trying to do, wait… is Vampire spider man re-arranging the cookies to make it less obvious he’s eaten them?!  
The bastard really was trying to gaslight you into thinking he was never here.
Once he’s seemingly satisfied with his work, he straightens up, turning until his back is against the camera preparing to leave.
To your surprise his face turns around to take one last look inside. The direction of his gaze settles on your bed where you're sleeping. His eyes lingers there for a handful of moments, inscrutable over the mask.
Is he sad? Angry? You can't tell.
He finally looks away and then he leaps off the window.
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Politely asking him in writing is clearly not working out for you.
You decide the only recourse you have left is to try and physically catch him.
Such a simple sentiment that had sounded so easy in your head, but you quickly run into logistical issues when you try to put it into practice.
The man is built like a tank. Can leap off of skyscrapers (and the window of your sixth floor) without breaking a sweat. Potentially also a vampire.
You're not exactly sure how you're supposed to catch someone like that.
Your google research is off to a shaky start. Somehow you end up down a rabbit hole of tutorials for non-lethal mouse traps. It's not very useful inspiration. Because you can't exactly build a 7 foot large cage trap to catch him the next time he comes around to help himself to cookies.
But the concept of having a lure trap set with bait seemed transferable and so you decide to go for a classic spring trap that you’ll modify. No cage, instead you set up a DIY contraption with a sturdy string attached to a bell meant to quickly alert you to his presence next time he comes around. 
The game plan is to wake up and corner him before he has a chance to abscond.
As for bait, you google things that vampires might like in a half-thought of plan it might be applicable. Unfortunately, there are no young virgin maidens you know of as far as the eye can see in New York (yourself included) so that was a no go. 
So you default back to cookies (because hey, at least it worked last time).
Amazon has your whole set up shipped and delivered by the next day and you implement phase 3 of your rapidly escalating attempts to reach out to him.
Unfortunately, it doesn't work. For one he doesn’t show up that night. Or the night after. It takes him four whole days to show up again and when he does, he spots your trap a mile away. When you review the footage on the cam the next day, he avoids the rope and the whole mechanism effortlessly. 
There's no sound on the nanny cam so you can't be sure of it. But you think from the way the line of his shoulders shake as he steps over the rope that he might be laughing at you. He’s definitely seen through few supervillain traps in his days so in hindsight the probability of success here was low.
He does however eat three of your cookies this time.
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You get a little bit more desperate after that.
You decide that if a trigger trap to wake you won't work, then obviously, the next best thing is for you to simply stay awake.
The problem is that he doesn't show up every night. His visits are entirely random without an obvious pattern. Sometimes he shows up two nights in a row, sometimes he goes several days without making a guest appearance on your nanny cam footage.
It means you end up downing a whole carafe of coffee, and several energy drinks, every night for a week straight. Entirely unable to predict what night he's going to appear, you keep dooming your already tiny bladder to a dozen visits to the bathroom before the clock has even struck nine.
The saddest part of it is that despite being wired on enough coffee to power a nuclear power station by yourself, you never end up staying awake the whole night through. 
More often than not you end up falling asleep sitting upright by the dining table waiting up for him. Then the next morning you wake with a wry neck, a sore back and your face pressing up uncomfortably against the wooden surface.
But you're nothing if not tenacious. Tonight makes it the sixth night in a row that you’re doing this. You stare down the can of red bull on your dining table as you pick it up and lift it to your mouth. You’re going to keep going, hardness of the wooden table be damned.
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You're surprised to find yourself waking up feeling well rested without any aches. Surrounded by the softness of your quilt and your even softer memory foam pillow. 
The luxurious comfort of it all is such a relief that you don't even question it at first. Don't question why you're in bed when the last thing you remember was nodding off against the palm of your hand and the hard discomfort of your dining chair.
In the sanctuary of your bed, you just dig your face deeper into your pillow and snooze for as long as you can. Ignoring the bright sun pouring in from your windows until it sears unforgivingly against your skin and you decide that it’s finally time to start your day.
By habit, the first thing you do as you get up from bed is to pull up the nanny cam app on your phone and press play on last night's recording.
There's nothing of interest. Seeing yourself read a book by the dining table and chugging down a series of Red Bull is hardly riveting television.
Yesterday you barely even make it until midnight because you can see yourself nod off at the table, head sliding off your palm and plonking down on the dining table. You flinch at the impact, vaguely impressed that the collision didn't wake you.
Your (maybe vampire) Spiderman turns up at 3 am.
Much like the times before, he perches himself on your window sill, peering inside (presumably to check for any new traps you might have laid out for him).
His broad frame stiffens, and then, with a smooth leap, he's inside your apartment.
Excitement rushes to your head, because this is the furthest he’s gone and the first time he's come all the way inside instead of just lurking on the window sill. 
He goes over to your bed, flinging the quilt to the side. He seems stressed, the dark shape of his eyes wide as he stands over the empty bed when it dawns on you what’s happening on screen right now. 
Oh, he's worried.
He looks over at you, hunched over the dining table, sound asleep and oh god, is that drool on your cheek? 
The line of his shoulder relaxes. The broadness of his chest rises then dips with a heavy exhale. Something warm trickles in your stomach at his obvious concern for you.
The mystery is confounding. You don't know him. You've never met him, but for some unfathomable reason he cares enough about you to genuinely care about your safety and you want to know why. 
He makes his way over to the table where you are. The mask slowly ebbs away, uncovering his familiar chin, cheeks and then finally his eyes. An other-worldly shade of crimson that has you spellbound and transfixed on the screen. 
You find yourself raising your phone closer to your face, trying to get a better look at him. Cursing the crappy quality of the video. You don't know what to make of the way he's looking at you. It's intensely focused, almost sad, and… and… And you don't know what, but it makes your heart leap up into your throat, chest clenching tight.
He bends over, wrapping his broad arms under your knees. He’s careful in his movements, cupping your head as it lolls to the side until you’re comfortably resting against his shoulders. It’s a practiced movement, as if he’s done this a hundred times before as he picks you up and carries you bridal style to your bed. Gingerly tucking you under the quilt with something that looks a lot like tenderness. 
It leaves you with more questions than ever.
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Ever since you started your caffeine chugging marathon, work has become a new kind of hell.
You're already half-asleep and nodding off at your desk by 10.30. Eyes sore and strained as you stare at the bright screen and try to make sense of the endless columns that are all different and also all the same until your brain refuses to try to make sense of any of it anymore.
You need to go for a walk. Clear your head.
Maybe pop out for a coffee... smoothie. Definitely smoothie.
Outside, the heat is oppressive, far too hot for only being May. Definitely too hot when there are this many tourists around. The street is so crowded you can barely make an inch of headway, trapped behind a family with a stroller in front, trapped in front of a pushy businessman who keeps stepping on your heels every two steps, and trapped next to a guy who is really into his airpods.
With the excess of caffeine still trying to make its way out of your system and the unforgiving heat of the sun beating against your back, it all has the effect of making you feel like you’re hung over. Your breakfast is roiling in your stomach. Sweat plastered against every inch of clothing. You don't know why you do this to yourself.
Every morning you tell yourself never again, and yet every night, there you were, spending half of your disposable income on energy drinks.
Starting from today, you're going cold turkey on the stuff. You've finally given up on trying to stay awake long enough to catch your super-stalker in his cookie burglar routine. Endlessly chugging down caffeine every night is not working out for you. Neither are the DIY mouse traps.
You're running low on ideas of how to trap him. You have nothing else to go on anymore. No idea on how to summon the man. The only time you know he'll be there is the moment before each near-death when he's there to save you.
What are you supposed to do with that? Purposely throw yourself off another building to lure him out?
That's crazy!
…Right?
But maybe... No! Definitely crazy.
Someone screams, and you snap out of your thoughts. There's yelling and terrified shrieks all around you. You're caught in the throng of people, panicked bodies pushing and pressing up against you, all of them trying to run the other way.
You dig in your heels, bracing yourself against the stampede of people. They’re pushing in from every direction until it’s impossible to move an inch. It’s hard to turn your body, when second after second, someone is pummeling into your side, knocking into your bruising shoulder. You barely manage to crane your neck back far enough when you finally spot it. 
A red-green truck with a gigantic taco on its roof is careening towards you across the pavement, no driver behind the wheel. The sea of bodies parts around the out-of-control vehicle, people running left, right and forward to escape being crushed under the wheels.
There’s no time to react. It’s too close. Too fast. 
A hand clutches at your wrist and pulls you backwards, your vision obscured as your face is pressed up against a familiar solid warmth. 
"Hold onto me," he tells you, and you do. 
You're held firm against him as the ground underneath your feet disappears, and everything feels weightless. Then all you hear is a loud thunderous crash.
Your feet touch back down on the ground, and the strong protective hold on you unravels.
When you open your eyes he's already gone. You're left on the corner of Lexington Avenue, still trying to catch your breath. The mob of people is still there all around you, but the panic has passed now, everyone is standing still. Everyone is observing the wreckage of the run amok truck that is now flipped onto its side, rendered harmless.
Miraculously, somehow, nobody around you seems visibly injured.
From a distance, you can hear sirens approaching with a deafening wail. 
But your mind is elsewhere, on the shade of the familiar dark blue and red as you were being saved seconds ago. On his gentle voice in your ear that still thrums pleasantly in your chest. 
You want to see him again. 
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It's Friday, and you break half an hour early for your designated 40 minutes of lunch, taking the elevator directly to the 72nd floor, which is under construction to renovate it into an open observation deck for the public next year.
The thing with commercial skyscrapers is that nowadays most of them have safety glass panels on all outside spaces of the upper floors to ensure that it is impossible to climb up the buildings and jump.
It's a safety feature that became standard after the financial crisis of 2008.
Turns out that imposing an 80 hour work week on your employees, where they don't get to see their family or friends or have a life outside of work, and then stripping them of their financial security makes a lot of people miserable and suicidal (who knew?)
The elevator pings open, and you exit into the construction zone, carefully avoiding the various tools scattered across the half-finished deck. On Fridays, the construction workers on the site leave by lunchtime, and the space is empty of people. 
Step by step, you walk up towards the edge of the terrasse, until you stand before the temporary safety rail, looking out over the sprawling city below you. Cars look like tiny moving pebbles and the people, a hive of ants scurrying from street to street.
It’s a dizzying view. Both beautiful and grotesque in its grandeur. The 72nd floor will be 28 more floors to fall from than the 44th was.
The air around you seems to thin, and your stomach wants to crawl down to your feet and hold on to steady ground.
Taking a deep breath, you lift the hem of your shirt, running your hand over the safety harness strapped around your waist, reassuring yourself it's still there. Then you feel along the attached cord, using the carabiner at the end to clip it around the rod of the safety rail. 
Being impulsive and daring in your quest is one thing. Reckless and stupid is another.
It’s not a real climbing rope and harness. Turns out professional safety gear is shockingly expensive, but you found a knock-off resistance training set, complete with harness and stretchy bungee cord rope, on Amazon for a very reasonable $15. You’ve already spent $72 on cookies, $50 dollars for a nanny cam set, and an extortionate $26 for stationary paper in your never-ending quest to lure out Fake Spiderman. You figure a rope is a rope, and you're not paying $100 more to get ripped off by the big climbing corporations. But you’re also not willing to go without.
After all, you've already fallen from the Chrysler building once, and you're not angling for a repeat.
As intent as you are on seeing your Spider-benefactor eye to eye, you're not quite prepared to die for the privilege. Your plan is just to make it look like you are going to jump.
Any superhero worth his dime wouldn't actually let you fall before they would be willing to save you.
That would be a real dick move.
You give your impromptu safety rig one last tug to make sure it's secure, then straighten your posture. Grabbing a hold of the metal rail, you hoist yourself up. You clamber onto it, gripping tight with shaking hands as you swing a leg over, straddling the bar.
Left leg then the right, until all of you are on the other side of the railing.
Then you stay there.
One second. Then two. You close your eyes and try not to look down at the many, many floors below, and how one gust of strong wind could probably knock you over and have you falling down the building again. You count the seconds that pass you by. 
Five. Six. Seven.
A strong gust of wind blows through your side, and your legs buckle at the strong resistance, hand gripping down on the metal railing to hold yourself steady so you don't fall off.
Eightnineten! Ok. Fuck. No. You're good. Fuck this! He's not going to come.
If he didn’t come when you climbed over, he's not going to turn up now.
You briefly let go of the railing with one hand, adjusting your grip so you can climb back to safety. The sun beating down on your back disappears and is eaten up by a large and looming shadow. Every hair on the back of your neck prickles in warning.
Your reaction is too slow, you don't even have time to turn around to see what caused it. Then all you hear is an angry booming voice right next to your ear.
"Have you lost your goddamned mind?!"
You panic, flinging out your hand to catch the bar, but the hard metal of the railings isn't there anymore.
There is a sharp metallic snap. The safety rope around your waist splits from the hasp.
He’s calling your name.
The world tilts and everything goes upside down along with it. Your stomach sinks with a sickening plummet, legs dropping through into zero gravity as you find yourself staring up at the blue and endless New York sky.
Then you're falling from the Chrysler building.
Again.
Fuck!
~ Next Issue
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Dedication & Credits: To my dearest @thirstworldproblemss who has to constantly listen to me jabber on about this day and night endlessly and forever. She is in every sense of the word a collaborator on this project. She brainstorms, she pitches in, she edits and she beta-reads. This and so many of my works would not exist without her, please send her all the love if you enjoyed this story.
I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!
1K notes · View notes
g0niki · 3 months
Text
taste tester── y.jw p.js
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pairing: bf!jungwon x reader x jay
word count: 1.9k
contents: no protection (wrap it up 😓), oral (m&f receiving), light pussy slapping, finger sucking, slight exhibitionism, light size kink, jw is a little mean🫶
a/n: I haven't written in a long time and quite literally wrote this at 3am, feedback and comments would be appreciated! i am very nervous to post this.
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jungwon had jokingly mentioned having a threesome with jay on multiple occasions before, and every time without fail you had said no… but at this moment you were reconsidering.
jay's in the kitchen cooking up something for you and won since you're the only ones home at the moment, won showering and leaving you to watch jay with a focused pout resting on his face as he cuts up the meat and throws it to a bowl on the side. 
you never really understood what your boyfriend saw in jay, sure they were close but he wasn’t all that... 
ok, jay was all that, he is all that. the way his hands moved as he worked on the meal was making you feel some kind of way, your thighs slightly rubbing under the table imagining him holding you down so firmly and having you squirming... so maybe you wanted jay to join... just once though!
you wouldn't even have to tell won, coming out of the bathroom hair wet and clothes hanging off his body loosely, jungwon isn't an idiot,
jungwon can immediately tell just what you're thinking by observing you from afar, knowing that you're having conflicting thoughts at the moment, he'd come up from behind you and wrap his arms around you, kissing your neck and speaking into it 
"feeling hungry pretty?"
the pet name alone was enough to let you know exactly where his mind is, gulping down at his tone. he'd place one last kiss on your throat, sitting down next to you and lightly patting his lap, definitely up to no good. 
"cmere I’m cold" he'd use a pouty voice,, to anyone else it would seem like he's being his usual clingy self but this alone was enough to make your mouth dry. you could never say no to sitting on your boyfriend’s lap though, immediately scooting over and sitting on top of him, he'd wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder, pulling you back against him.
"look pretty, isn't jay hyung so nice to us" oh you were fucked "should we watch him cook?"
won pushing your hair behind your ear and lightly biting on it causing you to push your hips back on him.
"be quiet, wouldn’t wanna break his focus" You can hear the fake pout in his voice, feeling his hands massage your thighs as he now kisses your shoulder, letting his tongue trace against the bare skin and lightly sucking now and then.
"look at him, trying to do us a favor yet all you can do is squeeze your pretty little thighs shut and stare. it's rude to not help."
you wanted to bang your head on the table in front of you,, won being so close to touching you over your shorts yet continuously teasing you right behind jay's back. 
"jay's missing out on the best entrée right here." finally, won's hand is lightly tracing your clit. your thighs squeezing around his hand desperately and a small sound leaving your throat, his glancing over his shoulder to check on you.
"sorry.. hit my knee"
"be careful,, dinners almost done"
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
needless to say, that was the quietest dinner you had ever experienced, thighs sticking together as you picked at your plate. jay watching you with an eyebrow arched up, he knew you were picky but you usually loved it whenever he cooked.
"something wrong?" 
his voice slightly makes you jump, unable to even look at him in the moment.
"yeah, what's wrong pretty?"
and of course, jungwon had to play dumb, you could see the smile he was biting back and as much as you wanted to be upset with him he was so badly turning you on.
"nothing just-" and before you could finish your sentence won's hand is back against your thigh, tracing shapes against it "nothing." 
jay leaves it at that.. picking up his plate and walking over to the sink still just as confused as a moment ago but not willing to press any further.
"actually, y/n had a question for you hyung!"
you had never wanted to strangle your boyfriend more than right now.
watching as jay turned around and fondly stared at the two of you.
"yeah, what's up?"
you were out of words, staring with your mouth open not able to play off the situation.
"tell him, baby, you know what we talked about, ask him."
jungwon pushed you closer to the topic, a smile on his face as his hand continued to brush against your thigh, usually, this would be comforting but in this moment your heart was sinking, and you were throbbing.
“y/n, you can ask me anything you know"
and hearing jay be so ready to cater to you was almost enough to get a sob to leave the back of your throat.
"ask him pretty, or i will." the small smile on won's face was enough to send shivers down your spine, goosebumps coming up all over.
"jay... would you want to help us out.." and gosh you felt like you could hear your voice quivering as you asked, you had never been more nervous than right now. 
"... with?"
"don't play dumb hyung. I can see you holding back right now."
your stomach sank. won definitely knew a lot more than he let on, you had never heard him be so harsh towards jay before and it was leaving you soaking. 
"just look at her hyung, look at how she needs you, how badly she wants us."
hearing won talk about you like you weren't even there was honestly a bit overwhelming, you could feel your face and ears getting how wanting to do nothing but hide behind your hands and forget this was even happening. 
"let her say it won, talk to me y/n."
you were going to have to swallow your pride for this one…
"could you fuck me.."
"look at me when you're talking. ask again."
"could you fuck me." and that was all the two of them needed to hear. 
within minutes they had you back in the room, clothes nowhere to be found as you were pressed up between the two of them.
"isn't she so pretty hyung,"
won was behind you holding your legs open and letting jay enjoy the view, jay twisting your nipples and watching how the light touch caused the puddle between your legs to grow even more.
"you weren't kidding when you said she was sensitive."  
hearing the brief mention that jungwon had discussed you with jay before sending your mind into a spiral. laying back as won moved from behind you and onto the chair next to the bed. 
"why don't you put it in hyung, i wanna watch."
you'd never seen won like this before, he looked almost ravenous, his mouth almost watering as he watched. you couldn't take your eyes off of him, taken aback by his current state.
"you too pretty, watch while he puts it in." 
won's hand coming behind your head and forcing you to look down on yourself. jay lining up with your folds and cursing out above you.
"she looks so small, you sure she can take it?"
"even if she can't she will."
and that was enough for jay to push into you, the slight stretch making you bite down on your lip, he wasn't very different from won in size but he was thicker. won's hand holding your own as you both watched jay sink inside you.
"look at that pretty," and god did jay feel good inside you. his hands gripping your hips tightly and pushing them down into the mattress as he took a deep breath.
Won” fuck i'm gonna break her won." 
"do it, she likes it" 
won gently pushing your hair out of your face, moving around so that he was now above your head. 
"don't you pretty?"
you had your eyes pressed together tightly, entirely overwhelmed by everything, and won's dick standing above your head was not helping in any sort of way. 
"you think you could multi-task.”
you couldn’t even answer at this point, jay roughly thrusting into you and using you like a toy, rambling on about how good you feel and he could've never imagined being able to be inside you.
won now holding both your wrists and watching as jay pounded into you, your release dripping all around him and your back fighting to arch against jay's push on your hips.
"pretty open for me before i make him stop."
the idea of jay stopping now was enough to make you sob, jaw immediately falling slack for won. 
"there we go,"
won immediately filling your throat and admiring the slight bulge he made in your throat.
"look hyung, everything about her is just sooo small" jay reached up to trace the bump in your throat causing you to clench around him.
"fuck don't do that i'll cum" jay moved his hand from your neck to slap down on your clit and making your body jolt. won hadn't done that before but you'd be asking him to do it again.
won wrapping his hands around your throat and fucking into you is all too much, you rapidly clenched around jay cumming for who knows what time and causing jay to fill you up with no warning.
"shit, my bad-"
jay pulled out watching his fluid seep out, using his fingers to scoop some up and bring it to his lips.
"fuck won you've gotta taste this."
won pulled out leaving you to whine,  but you quickly shut up after seeing him take jay's two fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling back at the taste of the two of you.
"fuck, it’s missing something.” 
won immediately moving to take jay's previous spot between your legs and quickly shoving himself into you, not taking your sensitivity into mind, his only objective being to fill you up even more. 
jay moved down to your stomach and worked his way up, finding his nipple in your mouth and sucking around it while his right hand fondled the other.
you could’ve sworn won was using all his strength on you, your body bouncing up and down as you tried to take even just a second to breathe, fighting to not scream. your hand coming up to jay's head and pulling onto his hair causing him to bite down on your tit.
"be nice,” he growled between his teeth.
jay pulls back to admire his work and watches jungwon finish the two of you off, taking himself into his hand in hopes of finishing himself off another time. 
"jay you better hurry up because i'm almost done."
won bringing his hand down to play with your clit in hopes of finishing you off alongside him, his thrust getting shallow and sporadic yet doing just enough to have you spilling around him, the noises leaving your throat being enough for jay to finish all over your abdomen and won filling you up nicely.
won pulling out slowly trying not to overstimulate you even more than you already are, lowering his face down to your cunt and licking up as much as he can.
he pulls you into a kiss, swapping the fluid between your mouths as jay watches with his jaw agape. 
pulling apart breathless 
"mm, tastes much better."
ᯓ★
@g0niki all rights reserved. do not translate or post my work anywhere without permission.
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