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#a bit shit but its just what came to my brain
bakumu · a day ago
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What kind of car would Kisaki drive?
And what kind of watches do you think he would have?
I think you're so good knowing what his aesthetic taste would be
Thank you so much for asking, this has been rattling around in my brain for so long and I appreciate you so so so much for giving me the opportunity to talk about his cars and watches. I'll start with cars first because hnnng I love them.
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Overall, I think his choice in cars would be very refined. He has a nice collection of modern cars and old cars, but I think that his taste is definitely less angular and more soft edges. Someone told him once that the curves of a car are meant to mimic the curves of one's lover and that stuck with him.
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1956 Ferrari 250 GT Berlinetta — $9,000,000 — Beautiful curves, the round headlights, the slope to the back, they all drew him in. This is his self-indulgent car, the one he drives to brunch and when he needs to feel better about himself.
1962-4 Ferrari 250 GTO — upwards of $80,000,000 — Kisaki is a Ferrari man (I've decided it) and this is one of the most sought after Ferraris. This car set records for being one of the most expensive cars sold at auction and you can bet your ass it was to him.
1970 Lamborghini Miura P400 S — $1,500,000 — A classic Lamborghini with nice body lines, and I love the idea that he is a little obsessed with the color gold so this one is a no brainer.
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2010 Audi R8 V10 — $170,000 — Is it selfish of me to give him one of my favorite cars? Maybe but I am and there's nothing you can do to stop me. He bought it the first day it came out and loves it to death.
2018 Ferrari 812 Superfast — $340,000 — Ferrari man. The body lines, the grill: it reeks of sex appeal. This car actually makes my brain short circuit a bit, and the idea of him getting out of it is too much.
2021 Bugatti Chiron Super Sport 300 — $4,100,000 — Hot boy shit. Like truly. It's a Bugatti, what more do I need to say? It's hot, it's fast, like my brain is turning to mush.
Not pictured:
2018 Maserati GranTurismo — $134,000 — This car is probably one of the least “flashy” in terms of sports cars but it's the one that he uses for everyday tasks or for driving to the airport. You know, just your everyday car that costs as much as a small house.
Mercedes G-Class SUV — $166,000 — They are hot but also every rich person probably has one and he does too. This is how he gets around when he has a driver.
And shout out to any Koenigsegg because he would absolutely have one but I couldn't choose!
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As for watches, I think he has a plethora, my personal views probably played into this a lot because I am not the biggest fan of silver, but Kisaki’s style is very timeless so I think that these are all very good options for him.
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Breitling Navitimer 1 Automatic 38 — $6,140 — The cream face and gold accents would match pretty much anything and he loves the way that the cluttered lines draw your eye to the bare center.
Jaquet Droz Grande Seconde Moon 43mm — $28,900 — The use of the negative space draws in your eyes to the stunning blue of the moonphase, and the gold embellishments really make it pop.
Rolex Sky Dweller 42mm — $57,500 — There had to be at least one Rolex on this list right? The black band and face of the watch have such a nice contrast against his skin. This is probably his go-to for business meetings.
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Jaquet Droz Magic Lotus Automation — $210,000 — This beautiful piece is the most special to him because it's the one he wears on dates with you. It's gotten its most uses for Sunday brunches and visits to the Ashikaga Flower Park to see the large wisteria tree.
Breguet Marine Chronograph Mens — $298,000 — The diamonds… this classic silver and black piece is what he always wears to galas and events. It also looks the best when he wipes blood off of it.
Breguet Marie-Antoinette N°1160 — $1,200,000 — I don't think this watch is actually for sale, but I don't care. It's a replica of a watch that was made for Marie Antoinette that was lost to time, but it's super complicated and he would love to have it.
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emmettsleftnut · a year ago
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Emmet and Jasper in: Food Shopping for Bella
Jasper: Ok Emmett, we're here, we have a goal, did you ask Bella what she needed?
Emmett: Was I... supposed to?
Jasper: Emmett, that was your one s i n g l e job, asking the human what she needed to eat
---
Emmett: Ok so... like meat, right? I used to eat that shit a ton as a human. They dont sell deer, thats stupid, guess we'll go with chicken.
Jasper: Em, she doesnt need 8 packs of chicken.
Emmett: Bro have you seen chickens, theyre so small, I could put an entire chicken in my mouth. Y'know what, I've seen a chicken near home. When we get home im showing you that I can put an entire chicken in my mouth-
Jasper: Emmett please god stop, I don't doubt you can fit a chicken in your mouth, people are staring.
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Jasper: Ok, Edward said Bella likes salad. Do you know anything about salad.
Emmett: Do I LOOK like I have ever eaten a salad Jaz.
Jasper: Yeah fair honestly I dont even know why I asked.
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Emmett: Ok, we have a bunch of leaves, we have... vegetables of some description. What else did Eddie say she liked?
Jasper: Something about mushrooms, like a pasta, he said they had it in a resteraunt in Port Angeles. Lets go to the pasta section then.
Emmett: I am not entirely positive what a pasta is but when I find out, hooooo boy.
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Jasper: Ok so I'm not seeing any mushroom flavoured pasta, Em what do we do thats like... the only thing I can think of that it could be.
Emmett: *looking at a box with a triumphant look* Well, queue the hoooo boy because Jaz, I have found what we have been searching for.
Jasper: Wait, you did? What is it?
Emmett: *holding up box for Jasper to see* It says right here "mushroom shaped pasta" thats like, the same thing right?
Jasper: You are an absolute genuis.
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Emmett: OK, chicken?
Jasper: Check.
Emmett: Mushroom shapes?
Jasper: Check.
Emmett: Leaves?
Jasper: Check.
Emmett: Thats all I can think of, humans just need water and sun then they'll get big and strong, right?
Jasper: Em, thats a plant, youre thinking of photosynthesis. Humans need food and sleep and warmth and happiness and stuff.
Emmett: Ok, I vote that I just improvise a bit and see what happens. Whats the biggest potential issue?
Jasper: Fair honestly, go wild I'll meet you at the register.
---
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BONUS:
Emmett: Cullens, we have been hunting and we have RETURNED
Jasper: We did great, obviously
Alice, to Edward: Spoiler Alert; they didn't do great
Emmett: Hush Alice, let me show our bounty. Mortal, come to us.
Bella: *wearily walking over* uh.. sure
Alice, mouthing to Bella: Be nice, they did their best.
Jasper: Firstly, we have, drumroll please... chicken.
Bella: Mmm
Jasper: And chicken
Bella: Oh
Jasper: And chicken
Bella: ..
Jasper: And chicken, and some more chicken, and finally, a bit more chicken.
Bella: Ok, awesome, thanks.
Emmett: Please Bella, save your praise for when we're finished.
Bella: Y'know what, sure Emmett, please show me what else you have there, I would personally love to see it.
Emmet: Of course you would. Next up we have... salad!
Bella: Em, that just lea-
Emmett: Bella please, I know youre insanely greatful but as I said, save the praise for once we're finished. I will only accept drumrolling at appropriate intervals. Jasper, next item please.
Jasper: We have mushroom pasta
Edward: Oh, thats actually a good one. Wait, Jasper, what is this?
Jasper: Its mushroom pasta..? Duh
Edward: Did you hear me talking about the thing from Port Angeles?
Jasper: Mhm, we thought we'd suprise her with her favourite.
Edward: Jasper, it's called mushroom ravioli, and she's only ever eaten it once, and I'm like 90% sure it was sub-par at best. Also, this is just mushroom SHAPED, it doesnt have any mushroom in it what-so-ever. I don't even thi-
Alice, smacking edward over the head: Jasper its great, lets just move on to the next thing.
Emmett: Ok, speedround, you ready?
Bella: Absolutely not
Emmett: Cool, 1. Frozen corn 2. thin potatoes in a very large bag 3. An entire bag of B+ blood, no you may not ask where I found it 4. Tiny edible pillow things. 5. Finally... Tampons, idk it felt like a good idea.
Bella: Honestly thank you
Emmett: Also I need to show you something with a chicken I found, wanna see
Bella: Absolutely
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liamslarents · 6 months ago
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.
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cisthoughtcrime · a year ago
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bold of you to assume the episodes of spongebob are in chronological order
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tomanpeach · 15 days ago
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the boyfriendification of ran haitani
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a/n: 18+!!!! nsfw!!! this is exactly what it sounds like. i've been trying to write this for DAYS and HERE SHE IS tbh i could've gone on forever ran has moved into my brain and is living completely rent free please somebody get him OUT of there!!!
content: alcohol / drinking, smoking, fingering, nipple play, spanking, sex!!, maybe a little bit of misogyny? kinda?? some of the boys sanzu talk about girls a little crazy oy
word count: 7,114
it wasn’t the first time you’d been to octagon. your friends had dragged you to the fancy, new nightclub downtown for its opening weekend and had fallen in love with the gaudy atmosphere. they had gotten into the habit of splurging on a night out there whenever one of you was in need of a pick-me-up. a pick-me-up in the form of a lux night surrounded by rich assholes, bottle service, and flashing lights, of course. so no, it wasn't your first time at octagon, but it was, however, the first time you’d been bent over the counter top in its single stall bathroom while a gorgeous stranger took you from behind. definitely a first.
from the moment he'd locked eyes with you from his table across the dance floor, you wanted him. you had found him incredibly handsome, especially compared to the usual slimeballs that frequented the place. it wasn't a secret that most men went to octagon with the hope of their private table and bottle upon bottle of top shelf liquor being enough to win the attention and company of beautiful women, regardless of how old or gross they were themselves.
ran haitani was neither old nor gross. he seemed to be in his late twenties, tall and slim, with a cigarette danging from his lips. he held himself in a way that said i know i'm better than everyone here and it is fucking hilarious. he had an amused look on his sharp, angular face that never seemed to shake. he watched you with calculating eyes, as if deciding if you were worth the chase. and you were enough shots into the night that you decided to flirt and wink back at him, shaking your ass in his direction for just a moment before turning back to your friends to tease him. when two enormous hands firmly gripped your waist, you knew it was him. you allowed him to run his greedy hands up and down your sides, arousal beginning to pool in your panties as he danced closer to you. as you arched your back, you were met with the feeling of his hard cock pressing into your ass while those massive hands pulled you flush against him. the size of him nearly made your mouth water. it wasn’t much longer before his whiskey scented breath was hot at your cheek, a sensual rumble of a voice tickling your ear, “can we go somewhere to be alone?”
next thing you knew, you were locked in the bathroom, stuffed full of this man’s veiny length. one of his hands had tightened around your throat. the other came down onto your ass cheek with a sharp slap every so often, making you yelp. you could barely hear your own cries of pleasure over the booming bass of the dance music just outside the door. ran was pounding into you at a pace that made your legs wobble. thankfully, he had you pressed against the counter with a hand gripping your hip for support. the hand around your neck released to take a fist full of your hair and drag you up against his chest. “you’re so fucking tight,” he growls in your ear. “how’d i get this lucky? didn’t even wanna go out tonight but here i am with this tight fucking pussy squeezing the shit out of my dick.” you can’t take your eyes off the pornographic scene taking place in the mirror in front of you as he continues thrusting up into you.
ran is watching too, and he's desperate to see more of you. he uses his free hand to hike your dress up even higher until it’s bunched up at your stomach. you're completely exposed, tits bouncing freely, soiled panties pushed aside to make way for the intrusion into your slick heat. his size is making it impossible to stay quiet. you’re moaning and whimpering with every thrust as the head of his thick cock bruises your cervix. the pain and pleasure have become one and between that and the alcohol you’re feeling like you’re floating.
the way you’re wrapped so tightly around him, pussy swallowing him up completely and dragging him back in each time he pulls almost all the way out of you, ran can't get enough. he’s watching you hungrily as your mouth hangs open, a constant string of curse words and cries streaming out. his eyes lock onto the place where he’s disappearing inside you, the place dripping with your arousal and making a mess all down your thighs and onto his dark pants.
"tell me how good you feel, baby," his face is next to yours, talking to your reflection in the mirror. "s-so good," you sputter. sweat and tears have ruined your makeup and you look absolutely wrecked. it's fuckin beautiful, ran thinks. "lemme hear youuu," he whines, grin only growing. "come onnn. tell me you love this." "i love it, i really love it, fuck." it's not a lie, either. you can't remember ever being fucked like this in your entire life. he's hitting deeper than any guy you've ever been with, and with a girth that's stretching you to the point of almost being painful. but you love it, you really do.
you watch in silent desperation as one of his hands starts to snake down your thigh, long fingers beginning to circle your clit. the added stimulation has you screaming, orgasm approaching like a bullet train. "scream my fuckin name," he orders, teasing voice taking on just a hint of sternness. "ran."
you did as you were told, repeating his name over and over, louder and louder, drowning out the sound of his balls slapping against you, nearly matching the volume of the music outside. "that's right," he laughs, fingers speeding up as he feels your walls tense around him. "cum on this cock, gorgeous. let me hear you." you do, hard, eyes practically rolling back in your head. you cry out his name just as he had told you to, a few swears following as his hands grab onto your waist and starts forcing your hips down to meet his thrusts. he's groaning now, the way your orgasm has you fluttering around him bringing on his own orgasm. you feel the heat as he fills the condom deep inside you, arms caging you in as he grips the counter for support. he bucks his hips up a couple more times– both of you making desperate sounds at the overstimulation– and pulls out. he trashes the condom and tucks himself back into his boxers.
your knees threaten to buckle under you so you turn quickly to lean back against the counter for support. he laughs, leaning close to kiss you for what feels like the very first time that night. it's sloppy and a little rough, tasting like whiskey and cigarettes, but for some reason it exhilarates you. he pulls away and cocks his head to one side.
"what's your name, pretty little thing?"
you tell him and he grins, repeating it back to you slowly, savoring each sound. "you have got the absolute tightest, juiciest pussy i've ever put my dick in."
you wince a bit at his lewd words and how casually he's said them. you mumble a slightly sarcastic thanks and start to adjust your clothes, pulling the straps of your dress back over your shoulders, tugging the hem down to where it belongs. he watches you with amusement, that same smirk still on his lips. you wet a paper towel and lean in close to the mirror to try and wipe away your smudged makeup. when you turn back to ran you see him slipping your phone into your purse.
"hey!" you startle him but he just as quickly regains his usual expression. "what are you–"
"i'd really like to do this again," he cuts you off, checking something on his own phone with a satisfied smile. "pleasure meeting you." he tips your head up and kisses you once. you watch in stunned silence as he unlocks the bathroom door and exits. you catch a glimpse of a line that has formed just outside.
"oh, you've gotta be fucking kidding me," a voice groans seeing ran exit.
"someone sounds jealous!" a laugh follows ran's words.
when the door shuts again, you lock it quickly and pull your phone from your bag to see what he'd done. your screen lights up revealing that he had sent a text, presumably to himself. the message simply reads, "best fuck i've ever had"
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despite sending it to himself, it's weeks before ran uses your number. you had almost started to believe he would never actually text. which wasn't the worst thing in the world. sure, it had actually been the best fuck of your life, but you had decided that fucking strangers wasn't something you were into anymore. shortly after you'd met ran, you'd hooked up with a friend of a friend after a night out, and it had been one of the least sexy encounters you'd ever had. and then, a few weeks after that, sex with a guy from a dating app had ended with him crying on top of you, realizing he wasn't over his ex. yeah, hooking up with strangers was proving to be a dead end.
you were confident in your decision to stay away from all that. even when a text came through from an unsaved number, the only other message ever exchanged with it being best fuck i've ever had. ran.
remember me? :)
you stare at the message for a few seconds and locked your phone. you had just sat down in the corner of your favorite cafe with a latte and your laptop to get some work done and you weren't going to let mr. best fuck i've ever had derail your productive morning.
ignoring me? my feelings are hurt!
the message alarms you just a little. but before you can wonder how he knew you were ignoring him intentionally, you receive another text.
mind if i join you?
you look up as a looming presence arrives at the seat across from you. it's ran, looking just as you remember, maybe even more handsome than in your memory, now that you were looking at him with sober eyes. "so?" he smirks, quirking an eyebrow. you nod, motioning politely to the chair and he sits.
he's wearing a suit, or half of one. he's got on a crisp white button down and slacks with the jacket slung over his arm. the clothes fit him perfectly, every stitch and fold falling just where it should as if they were tailored just for him. which they probably were. over the collar of his shirt peeks the top of a tattoo that adorns his throat. you wonder why you hadn't noticed it back at the club. it was pretty hard to focus on anything other than his cock. you banish the thought from your mind. that was behind you. with his polished appearance, his hidden tattoos, and knowing smile, ran exudes an overwhelming aura of power and wealth. it's a bit intimidating.
"fuck, do i feel lucky to have run into you," he settles back in his chair, eyeing you mischievously. "what are you working on?" you notice his gaze on your laptop. "emails," you say simply, stupidly. he's hard to have a conversation with, you can't stop thinking about that word: intimidating.
"nothing urgent, i hope?" he sips his coffee, deep violet eyes flickering, hinting that there was more to the question.
you just stare back at him, waiting for it. "if you're free, why don't you come back to my place? it's really close to here."
"i'm not free," you reply evenly. "i told you, i'm working."
"oh, come on," he rolls his eyes petulantly. "you'd rather send emails than come with me and get the best dick of your life again?" you look away from him and open your computer, "sorry, i'm not interested."
he shuts your laptop with one large hand, leaning across the table toward you, "i don't believe you." his tone is still pleasant and lighthearted as it seems to always be, but he's clearly not used to hearing an answer that isn't yes. "you were begging for me at the club. don't you remember?"
"i do but–" you open your computer again and he shuts it abruptly. "i'm really not like that."
“like what?" his tone is changing, it's patronizing, belittling, an attempt to coax a yes out of you. "a horny little slut telling me how much she loved getting her tight fuckin hole filled in the bathroom of that club?”
"you got lucky," you bite back. "we're not in a club, now. i'm not fucked up, and i'm not just hooking up with you because you look good in a suit."
"you think i look good?" his smile grows, mocking.
“whatever, ran," you start to collect your things, suddenly frustrated. he'd shown up and interrupted your day, expecting you to just drop everything to go fuck him. not this time. "think what you want, but if you're really trying to fill this tight little hole again, it definitely won’t be like this.” you turn to walk away leaving him completely stunned and surprisingly aroused...
you're just starting down the sidewalk outside when the bell on the cafe's door chimes again behind you. ran's hand circles your wrist and pulls you to a stop abruptly. he turns you toward him.
"fine," his jaw is tight. "i'll play along. what do you want me to do? get you fuckin flowers or some shit?"
it's your turn to feel smug. as powerful as he seemed, as he carried himself to appear, there had clearly been a shift in the dynamic. the subtle annoyance you'd caused in the world's most easygoing man was thrilling. you felt like the ball was suddenly in your court.
"let’s get dinner."
"buy me dinner first," he mocks, putting on a high pitched voice.
"you’re the one begging to fuck me," you remind him sharply.
he quiets. “fine."
you're shocked he's agreed but try not to show it on your face.
"8?" he continues. "i’ll pick you up."
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the sight outside your apartment stuns you into silence. ran, dressed in a dress shirt and slacks, the shirt looser and more stylish than the one he'd had on at the coffee shop, smoking a cigarette leaned against the hood of his car. with the first few buttons of his shirt undone you can see his tattoo clearly. just below his collarbone are a few dark swirls of ink, telling you there are more tattoos on his chest. you briefly wonder what they look like, what they mean.
he flicks his cigarette butt into the gutter before his eyes come to rest on you as you approach. the corner of his mouth curls up in a grin but he says nothing. "i didn't expect you to drive a batmobile," you say simply, gesturing to the sleek black car. ran laughs, loose and genuine. the sound somehow calms your nerves. "it's a bugatti. batmobile prob'ly woulda been cheaper, though." you laugh, surprised at his humor. but much to your disappointment, the car ride that follows is relatively silent.
the restaurant ran has chosen is a steakhouse, one of the finest in the city you learn from a quick google search as you exit the car. he hands the keys to the valet and you can barely make out a whispered threat of what he'll do if anything happens to his precious car. you watch a wave of fear wash over the young man as ran claps him on the back dismissively. "you scared him," you frown. "good," ran says casually. "that car costs more than he'll make in his entire life." you call him a number of mean names in your head. great date so far.
ran gives his name at the front, the host looking just as fear stricken as the valet as he leads the two of you to a table in a bustling VIP room. you sit down, eyes flitting from table to table, observing the other kinds of people with the same reservation privileges as ran. older men and women in expensive suits and cocktail dresses laughing and drinking wine, middle aged business men celebrating closed deals, and a handful of other couples enjoying each other on dates. "i hope you eat meat," ran smiles briefly.
the rest of the night passes with no more than 20 words exchanged between you. your displeasure is growing with each time ran checks his watch or rolls his eyes at you. as your plates are cleared, ran refills both your glasses of wine. you've convinced yourself you're calling a taxi home after this glass. you'd enjoy an expensive meal paid for by this mysterious, exorbitantly rich man and leave with your dignity in tact. you weren't going home with him, not after this pitiful attempt at a date.
"somethin wrong?" he asks with a patronizing tilt of his head.
"no," you lean in. "just wondering why you're choosing to be so insufferable."
ran's eyes narrow the slightest bit, "what ever could you mean, darlin?"
"you're acting like a child. i get that getting to know someone before fucking them is a brand new concept to you, but it's what we agreed on–"
"i agreed to dinner," he corrects, raising his glass to his lips. you want to reach across the table and slap the grin from his face.
"right, a dinner so i could get to know you," you're speaking through gritted teeth. "that was my only request, because i don't want to fuck a stranger–"
"honey, you already fucked a stranger and, if i remember correctly, you fucking loved it."
you blink back at him making a move to grab your purse.
"aww, come on," he chuckles. the sound feels like a punch to the gut.
his hand closes around yours on the table, his grip almost too tight. you look up at him, ready to protest, when you see that his eyes are dark, warning you not to leave. "i'm sorry. really. put down your bag."
for the first time all night there's not a hint of teasing in his voice. the sudden authenticity startles you enough to keep you in your seat. your eyes can't seem to unglue themselves from his. you feel your hand release your clutch, shoulders relaxing. the remaining shred of control you'd felt earlier in the day was completely overwhelmed by his commanding gaze. the tone of the evening had shifted.
"what do you want to know about me?" he asks, his usual smile back on his lips. his hand is still holding yours, thumb stroking over the back delicately.
there are a million things you want to know, each question seeming more important than the one before it as they bubble in your brain. you decide on something simple.
"what's your last name?"
his smile widens, "good question, baby. haitani."
"and what do you do?"
instead of answering, he takes out his phone and unlocks it. he hands it over to you on a new internet tab, "google me."
you hesitate but he seems insistent. ran haitani. search.
the first thing to come up are pictures of him. paparazzi shots, professional headshots, press photos at company events, something resembling a mugshot.
under the pictures are a list of links to articles mentioning his name. you gulp, trying to conceal your reaction to the headlines, and probably doing a terrible job of it.
"bonten inc. executive ran haitani could face criminal charges"
"ran haitani: genius business mogul or nefarious mob boss?"
"police commissioner assures no links found between bonten inc. and citywide gang activity following investigation"
"haitani brothers acquitted of charges following month long trial"
your mind had chosen to analyze the new information quite calmly. he was an executive of a huge company. that explained the money, the clothes, the attitude. gang activity. criminal charges. mob boss. you remembered the look of terror in the faces of the valet and the restaurant host. now that you thought about it, you had even seen it from other patrons when they risked a peek over to your table.
blame it on being naive, but for some reason, you didn't feel afraid of him. you pass his phone back wordlessly, noticing how carefully he was watching your face for some kind of reaction. "learn anything good?" he asks, sliding the phone back into his pocket.
you nod, "you have a brother."
his brows draw together for a moment, scrutinizing your expressionless face. you barely last another moment before you both burst out laughing. ran isn't sure why your reaction has him feeling so delighted, but it does. googling his name had been meant as a mean trick, a surefire way to terrify you and run you out of the restaurant. so for you to react with a joke of your own... had he met his match? he feels his cock twitch in his tight pants.
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once all ran's cards are on the table, the whole night inexplicably shifts. you stay there much longer with him, actually talking, finishing the expensive bottle of wine he'd gotten together. a newfound passion seems to overtake ran as he tells you more about what he does (in slightly vague terms, for obvious reasons). even more surprising is how the things you tell him fascinate him, your world being so starkly different from his. it's intoxicating, the way you light up as you speak, hands gesturing and eyes sparkling. he thinks it's perfect that you work for a non-profit– something to do with helping kids in need– because after these few hours of being in your presence, he knows he'd donate millions if you asked.
"we should probably get going...?" you mumble when you notice that most of the diners have disappeared. ran feels a pang of disappointment, realizing the night may be nearing its end. what you see, though, is a casual smile and a nod as he stands up and offers you his arm. clinging to him, you let him lead you out of the restaurant. as you stand beside him waiting for the valet to get his car, he wraps his hand around yours wordlessly. the gesture is so small, so sweet, you wonder if he had even done it intentionally. nonetheless, you feel giddy, however out of character it was for him.
"how'd i do?" he asks quietly. you're not sure what to make of the question. "how was tonight?"
you try to hold back your smug smile. "well, you definitely don't feel like such a stranger anymore." he laughs, a soft exhale. you squeeze his hand to get him to look at you. "aren't you going to invite me back to your place?"
he gives in to the urge to kiss you, large hands cupping your cheeks, holding you in place as he bends to press his lips to yours. "you're a fuckin tease," he mumbles against your lips, making you giggle. "shut up and take me home," you smirk. the car pulls up and ran is feeling triumphant. he slaps a hundred dollar bill into the valet's hand, "thanks, man. g'night." the guy looks shocked to be receiving such a large bill, especially from someone who had threatened to gouge his eyes out with car keys just hours earlier.
"that was very generous," you note, once you're both inside the cavernous vehicle. "i'm in a good mood," he shrugs, smiling out at the road. the car zooms out of the parking lot with a roar, ran driving with one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh.
as you pull through the guard gate and descend down the winding tunnel to the underground parking lot of ran's place, you start to giggle. ran glances over at you as you try to contain yourself. he gives your thigh a squeeze, "what's so funny?" you shake your head dismissively. pulling into his parking spot, he cuts the engine and turns to face you. another devilish giggle slips out and you know you have to spill.
sheepishly, you place your hand over his on your leg, tracing nervous circles onto the back of it. "fuck me here. in the batmobile."
"shit," ran snorts out a laugh, already pulling you over the center console and onto his lap. "whatever you say, baby."
as soon as you're straddling his hips, he slides the hem of your dress up your thighs, letting it bunch up at your hips and reveal your lacy black panties. "pretty," he grins, knuckles running over your clothed slit. "d'ya wear these just for me? pictured me taking em off you?" you whimper, already turned on by his feather-light touches and teasing words. as you fumble with ran's belt, his massive hands have each one of your tits in their grip, squeezing hard. "fuck," he breathes, finding the zipper at the nape of your neck and tugging it down. you slide your arms out of the straps so that ran can peel the bodice down toward your stomach, revealing your tits to him in their lacy confines. "look at these!" he sounds overjoyed, giving them another squeeze. he pulls the cups of your bra down at the same time. he meets your eyes before giving each of your nipples a firm pinch. you whimper, eyebrows furrowing. "aww, sensitive, huh?" he fakes sympathy, pinching again, harder. he rolls the hardening buds between his thumbs and forefingers, "i feel fucking cheated. i didn't get to play with these gorgeous tits last time. what do you have to say for yourself, hmm?"
you moan as his lips wrap around one nipple, fingers twisting and rubbing the other. "s-sorry," you whine. "sorry's fuckin right," he says, mouth full of your breast. as he releases it with a wet pop to move to the other side, his hand comes up between your parted legs. as he suckles at your nipples, fingertips nudge themselves under the fabric of your underwear. "please. touch me." in response he presses his slender middle finger into your already dripping hole. a second finger follows closely after. his thumb presses down firmly on your clit, running over it slickly using the arousal that's leaking around his fingers and pooling into his palm. "you're fuckin filthy," ran's tone makes it sound like something between a praise and an insult. "listen to how wet you are already. you just love havin somethin fuckin in and outta this little cunt, huh?" you nod desperately, burying your face in his neck as the squelching sounds of his fingers in your pussy fill the car.
a sharp slap comes down on your ass cheek and knocks the wind out of you. "take my cock out, baby. want you to see how fuckin hard i am feelin you leakin all over my fuckin hand." you had almost forgotten you'd started to unbutton his pants, before he'd shoved his fingers into you, that is. he spanks you again and you yelp, "too hard!" he chuckles darkly, but still presses a kiss to your temple and mumbles out a "sorry, baby." you finally get his fly down and he lifts his hips to help you tug his pants and boxers down to his thighs. his cock stands upright, angry red tip resting against the firm muscles of his stomach. because he'd taken you from behind in the club, you hadn't actually gotten a good look at his member. the size of it was shocking. "it fit?" you ask in disbelief. he strokes your cheek, smiling at you with amusement, "'course it did. you were such a good girl for me. gonna be a good girl again?"
you respond by lifting your hips and positioning yourself over his length. your hands grip his shoulders for support. he holds your waist in one hand and the base of his cock in the other. he runs the tip between your lips a few times, your arousal coating the head and running down his shaft. finally, he pulls you down, tip pushing inside your clenching hole. the stretch is a million times more intense when you're on top, you decide. as ran sheaths himself inside you in one swift motion, you feel as if the air has been stolen from your lungs.
before you've caught your breath, he's lifting you back up and slamming you down again. you can't help the yells, whimpers, and moans that fill the tiny space around you two. you drop your head to his shoulder as he thrusts his hips up into you. he takes your tits into his mouth again, "fuckin obsessed with your body. you feel so good, baby." something possesses you to say it back, "fuckin obsessed with your cock." the words send him into a frenzy. his hips speed up, the sound of skin on skin getting louder and more frequent as he pistons into your hole. you cling to him, fingernails leaving crescent shapes where they've dug into his skin.
ran pants an order, "touch yourself. wanna feel you cum on my cock." your fingers rub around your clit, bringing you even closer to the edge. "fuck, ran," you whimper, all the sensations becoming too much. "louder." "ran! fuck, oh my god, ran!"
you see stars as your high hits like a freight train. you're barely aware of how tightly your walls have clenched around ran, how they've drawn out his release, milking him of every last drop. he makes no move to pull out, simply lets himself soften while buried deep within your cunt. but you wiggle your hips, too sensitive to have him there much longer. "tsk," he shakes his head in fake disappointment and lifts you off of him. he keeps you in his lap, though, wrapped up in his long arms. he reaches into the back seat, grabbing the suit jacket he'd had on earlier in the day. you almost blush as he drapes it over your shoulders. you kiss him in thanks. the kiss turns into a few more kisses and soon you're straddling him again, looking into his face.
"was it really so bad?" you ask, teasing. "going on a date?" he lets his head loll back as your lips leave a trail of kisses from his collarbone up to his jaw. "not bad with you," he turns his head and catches your lips with his. he grips your ass in his hands to pull you closer. "and not after this." "worth it, right?" you giggle against his mouth. "i might even consider doing it again." your tiny gasp makes him laugh. "yeah, yeah," he chuckles. "whatever." cradling his face in your hands, you smile devilishly. "if you agree to another date, maybe we can go upstairs and do this again," you whisper in his ear. "fuck. deal."
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"alright," sanzu calls attention to himself, a bit too loudly as usual, as he walks into the room. "strip club. on west 44th street. i bought it."
"you said you would and you did," koko nods, impressed. "good for you."
"thank you!" the pink haired man points at his colleague triumphantly. "we're celebrating the new ownership tonight, and i want you all there. got it?" the other bonten execs agree, nodding or chiming in from around the room.
"ra-a-an," sanzu sing songs, noticing his colleague's lack of a response. "complimentary lap dance from the bitch with the tittie piercings if you show up tonight. i know she's your favorite."
"pass," ran calls around a cigarette, absorbed in whatever he was doing on his laptop.
"you can't pass, dick, it's a big night!" sanzu retorts, clearly offended.
"i'm seeing someone tonight."
rindou scoffs and ran throws him a look.
“you’re fuckin pussy whipped, idiot,” rin rolls his eyes.
"no way," sanzu scoffs. "no way you're seeing that same fuckin girl."
ran is silent, he continues trying to drown out sanzu's voice. the truth is, he was still seeing the same girl. it had been nearly four months since you and ran had met at the club and, as out of character as it was for him, he hadn't been with anyone else. hadn't even thought about it. he really didn't mind going on dates with you, enjoyed them even. in the last couple weeks he'd even started trying to choose some of the outings so you wouldn't have to plan them all. unlike most of his past flings, you were worth seeing again. and again, and again, and again. he liked being in your company, had grown to enjoy and long for the times you got to spend together, even fully clothed.
ran was definitely not "boyfriend material" in the traditional sense. he'd never considered that he could ever be a relationship guy. his job was dangerous and demanding. it ran the risk of pulling him away at a moment's notice and keeping him off the grid for long periods of time with no explanation. it had shaped him into the man you met at the club, a man of strip clubs, hookers, and, yes, getting his dick wet with random girls in club bathrooms.
with you, ran had it all. someone to confide in, someone to be intimate with, someone that gave him a reason to make his free time non-bonten time. it had been less than 24 hours after your first date at the steakhouse that he had realized how fucking good and different it felt to be around you. after years of the same shit with bonten or all the gangs that came before it, of course he was going to pursue this new possibility.
sanzu takes ran's silence as an answer, "fuck, ran, is it??" he howls with laughter. “did you go soft on us, man? got wifed up and lost your edge or some shit?”
“first, shut the fuck up. second, you would be doin the exact same fuckin thing if you knew how tight that shit is.” the regret for his words comes instantly.
“alright, then help me understand,” sanzu teases. “you plannin on sharin with the class?”
something ugly starts to boils deep in ran’s stomach. he's never once felt this sort of annoyance– the kind that borders on genuine anger– while simply joking with the boys. he wanted to abruptly end the conversation, didn’t want a single other person thinking about his girl and her pretty lips and tight little body and perfect fuckin cunt anymore or ever again. it was for him, him only. he wanted to swing at sanzu, knock him out of his fucking chair and leave the room. but where the fuck was that coming from? it didn't feel like ran at all.
so ran pushes the feelings down and does as normal ran would, diverting sanzu's attention away from his changing persona and the woman who had caused it, away from his clearly shifted views on women, sex, himself. he snorts a laugh and mumbles a pompous, “you fuckin wish.”
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a few more weeks go by and ran has successfully managed to avoid any further mentions of you with the bonten guys. he's more careful following the conversation with sanzu and, luckily, the topic doesn't come up again.
he's watching you intently from the bed as you brush your teeth in his bathroom. smiling to himself, he marvels at how differently your relationship has turned out from what he'd expected. it was like no other relationship ran had ever had, if you could even call his past conquests relationships at all... there was a private desire to always make you happy, keep you smiling. a constant need to make sure you were kept safe, far from bonten, its executives, and all its business. it had been such a drastic shift in him. honestly, ran couldn't remember the last girl he'd even saved in his phone with a name before you.
you meet his eyes in the mirror and grin at him. "who's got you smiling like that?" he calls, motioning you toward him. you pad across the room, climbing onto the bed and settling into his open arms. he holds you tightly against his bare chest, kissing your forehead fondly. you chuckle, "hey, when did you get so sweet, huh?" "m'not sweet," he says through a grin, squishing your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger and pecking your lips. "i'm a nefarious mob boss." you laugh at the epithet– your favorite from the tabloid articles about him– that had become something of an inside joke between the two of you. he can't help but join in your laughter, delighted just by seeing you so giddy.
a loud ding sounds from the nightstand and ran reaches across you to grab his phone. "what's wrong?" you ask when his brow furrows at the screen. "someone's at the door..." he clicks the notification and it brings him to the live video feed from his doorbell. there's a man smiling and waving into the camera, like a batman villain. his long hair is dyed pale pink, his mouth bookended by even lighter pink scars. "oh, you've gotta be fuckin' kidding," he grumbles.
"is it work?" your voice is tight. he realizes he's worried you and he hates it. kissing your forehead once more before getting to his feet, he reassures you that it's nothing, "i'll get rid of him in two minutes. promise."
before he leaves his bedroom he sends a stern look your way, "stay in here. okay?" you nod obediently and he moves through the penthouse toward the front door. "i'm off the fuckin clock," you hear him say as soon as the door has been yanked open. your eyes widen at the change in his tone. cold, all business.
"good news and bad news," sanzu is breathing heavily. "i got that info about the police raid. bad news is, it was not easy." ran notices sanzu is holding his side, notices dried blood under his coat. "you fuckin idiot," ran growls, grabbing sanzu by the back of his jacket and dragging him into the apartment.
"stay here," he orders, sitting his disheveled coworker at the kitchen table. "i've got bandages."
you stand up from the bed as ran bursts into the room. "is everything o–" he cuts you off, making a beeline toward the bathroom. "it's fine. you– fuck– please just sit down. stay in here." you follow him anyway, watching from the doorway as he starts pulling out drawers and rummaging around.
"what are you looking for?"
"first aid kit."
"it's under the sink."
he crouches, opens that cabinet next, and there it is. despite his frustration, he smiles up at you apologetically before rushing out of the room again.
"they had a fucking k-9 unit," sanzu groans, squirming as ran dabs his bloody, gashed flank with a peroxide soaked cotton ball. "isn't that fucked up?" ran sighs, nodding slightly. he's too tense to really listen. you're in the other room, listening to their every word, worrying about this dangerous business he was involved in. ran feels sick wondering how you'll react when you discuss it after sanzu leaves.
"oh, well hellooo." ran's head snaps up, following sanzu's gaze to something behind him. you're standing in the doorway, nervously holding a tube of antibiotic ointment in your hand.
ran's eyes bulge as they rake down your frame. your shorts suddenly seemed too short, your oversized pajama shirt bordering on see-through. he wanted to get up and shove you back into his bedroom, shut the door and keep you away from sanzu's gaze. at least until your long legs were covered up and you had put a bra on, but maybe not even then. he was reaching a panic as he considered the thoughts that might run through sanzu's filthy fucking brain about his girl.
sanzu nudges him, "who's this? you didn't tell me you had company! i would've gone over to rindou's to bleed out." the corner of your mouth twitches up at sanzu's words. you and sanzu exchange introductions. you can see ran's hands curling into fists, his jaw clenching. he's far from happy. you hadn't done as he'd instructed and now you were meeting one of the members of his company that he tries so hard to keep you so far removed from, too.
"this fell out of the first aid kit," you hand it to ran, letting your hand stay in his for just a moment longer than it needed to, hoping that it would calm him down a little. "i thought you might need it. nice meeting you, haruchiyo." sanzu nods politely, still smirking like he's just witnessed some big secret come to light. which, to be fair, he kind of had.
"so–" "shut up," ran bites. "i don't want to fuckin hear it." sanzu's smug expression only deepens, but he stays quiet. "and not a word to anyone else. okay? for my girlfriend's sake, be fuckin cool about this. i don't want her getting involved in anything."
sanzu agrees, "you got it, man. happy for you. she's as fuckin' fine as you– fuck, ran, OW!" ran presses the cotton ball sharply against sanzu's wound, effectively shutting him up. once he's bandaged up, sanzu produces a handful of painkillers from his pocket and swallows them down. "like a new fuckin man," he claps ran on the back. "i owe you one. say goodnight to your beautiful mrs. from me." ran shuts the door in his face.
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ran steps into the doorway to his bedroom and lets out a heaving sigh. you scramble up from the bed and hurry over to him, hugging tightly around his middle. "i'm sorry," you mumble." he wraps an arm around you, kissing the top of your head, "don't be. that was just..." he shakes his head to clear it. "i wish you'd stayed put, honey."
"i know, i know," you frown. "i just wanted to help."
you're both silent for a moment. you step back to look up at him.
"so i'm your girlfriend, huh?" you raise an eyebrow at him teasingly.
"you were eavesdropping, too??" he fakes annoyance, shoving you back onto the mattress and climbing on top of you as you giggle. "you're in big trouble."
"nooo," you whine impatiently. "one time. for me. say that you wanna be my boyfriend."
his violet eyes soften, he cups your cheek. "i wanna be your boyfriend. real fuckin bad. alright?"
"alright," you grin and he kisses you, feeling like the luckiest man on the planet.
2K notes · View notes
snappleapple · a year ago
Text
their favorite types of kisses
people in this - dream, georgenotfound, sapnap, wilbur, punz, jschlatt, awesamdude, quackity
headcanon!
the most disgusting fluff i’ve ever written
warning - cursing, i think that’s all but if there is more please do not hesitate to tell me :)
word count - 2k
a/n: okay okay, i might’ve lied earlier about that being my last post but this was short and easy to make which is why i would like to feed my readers this early haha. anyways, enjoy and please disregard the errors in this post, i hate proof reading anything lol. also, i’ve been very indecisive on the title and i might change it later and ooh, my masterlist will be made soon. i’ve just been feeling very unproductive these days. also, please put in requests, i am so bored and dumb therefore there are no ideas in this brain. and if you’d like a part 2, i might add more people for the part 2!anyways, peace!
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dream -
i get the feeling that dream’s favorite type of kisses would be cheek kisses
he just likes to watch as you struggle to reach his height
“aw look at those little legs do their thing.”
ends up with you not giving him his kiss
and mans becomes SO pouty
“y/n…come on. don’t be this way.” :(
if you don’t kiss him on the cheek, will also become SO clingy and whiny
“why won’t you KISS ME!”
clenches his fists and stomps away like a teenage girl during puberty
slamming the door to your room
so then you have to go and give him all the kisses he wants
his face is slammed into your pillow
you sit on the side of the bed and pet his hair
leading him to stare up at you with puppy dog eyes
“i will give you all the kisses you want. so stop being so pouty, you big baby.”
will literally leave zero feet of space between you and him
taps his cheek to tell you he wants kisses
when you go on dates, will literally make you stand on your tippy toes to get his kisses
does not bend down at all and actually lifts his head higher to tease you
in other words, clingy but rude hoe
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george -
george is a classic romantic
he loves just lip kisses
pecks or lingering ones
he doesn’t care
mans don’t need too many kisses
nor does he need to be too clingy
total opposite of dream and sapnap *ahem clingy ahem*
if he wants a kiss,
he will come over to you and get it
doesn’t get pouty if you’re busy
just waits patiently
doesn’t enjoy it when you interrupt him when he’s streaming so you do your own thing
when you’re watching a movie with him,
he will literally only stare at you with his cute smile
and listen to your every criticism of the movie
he likes to just peck your lips whenever he feels like it
and you’re just not surprised anymore
just likes to stare at your lips whenever you talk
overall, is very sweet but not to an extent with showing affection
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sapnap -
omg
sapnap just vibes with neck kisses
it tickles his neck and he loves them
giggles when you pepper kisses along his neck and flushes a deep red
“y/n. stop.” giggles between each word
but when you do, becomes the saddest person in the whole world
“i was joking.” :(
when he’s streaming and he begins to miss you
would leave his room and find you just to get a kiss
just like dream, would get angry if you give him no kisses
“GIVE ME KISSIES!”
very amusing for you
and you love to tease him
“i don’t want to give you kissies.”
continues to stare at you with a large frown until you give in and give him kissies
lsg supremacy but i’ll get into this later hehe
you better give him kisses or you’ll be dealing with a very sad sapnap
sadnap :(
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wilbur -
wilbur, wilbur, wilbur
what can i even say
total nose kiss guy
i bet he’ll boop your nose twenty four seven
asks stupid questions just to get your attention
“y/n?”
“yes wilbur?”
“is a hotdog a sandwich?”
“why-“
“boop.”
“did you just say boop while you booped my nose?”
if he’s streaming and you bring him a snack
he will hold your face still and leave kisses on your nose
not too clingy but not too distant
likes to be just right with you
if its snowy outside and your noses get red
makes dumb jokes about he is rudolph and you’re mrs. rudolph
just a lot of smooches from wilby
takes you to a lot of hidden cafes in the city
and while you read, he balances his head on his palm, staring at you in admiration
if you’re insecure about your nose, you legit can’t be around wilbur because he will go on a tangent about how beautiful it is
substantially, soft boy hours all day bro, besides when he gets mad then you leave the hormonal man tf alone
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punz -
i don’t see a lot of punz on tumblr so here we go
punz loves hand kisses
not to an extent where he has a hand fetish
god no but just like
when your holding hands, he’ll occasionally pull your hand up to his lips and leave a kiss
lots of hand holding
and i mean lots
constantly gets mad fun of for being a simp but ignores those comments because he genuinely loves you so much
likes it when you play with his hair and messing it up
also likes to compare hand sizes with you
always has a hand on your thigh or your hand in his whenever he is driving somewhere with you
even when you go on dates, always holding hands
no matter how sweaty your hand gets, he will hold on
sometimes if he holds on for too long, you have to tell him to let go
“punz, my hand is super sweaty. lets take a break from the hand holding.”
would flat out decline so you would have to pry your hand out of his
he would also love it when you would kiss his hand
makes him feel all polite and precious LOL
would also wrap his pinky along yours when you walk together
he once came with you to a family gathering for christmas and was so SHY
shy boy held your hand for security while your younger siblings made fun of you
afterwards, when you were under a mistletoe, he kisses you on the lips before kissing you on his favorite part of your body,
your hand
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c!jschlatt -
jschlatt is a whole mess
the first time you met, he confessed that he would hate you for as long as you lived because you made fun of his boots
now he says he still strongly dislikes you but you’re more tolerable
doesn’t like it when you make him soft and HATES it when he blushes
“why must you do this to me, mother nature?”
also “hates” it when you even touch him because he “hates” you
when he actually confessed to you that he liked you with his grumpy usual grandpa voice,
you kissed him on his forehead, after he bent down of course
he is an actual giant and threatens to squash you like an ant if he feels the need to
is an absolute monster to you but loves it when you kiss his forehead because it makes him feel secure and loved
likes to watch the wind blow through your hair and mess it up but gives you his hat because he like you being “all pretty and shit”
gets SUPER jealous when you hug children
like for example, when you went over to a family gathering at his house, his cousins came up to hug you
and when you let go of the child, the man child comes and lugs you over his shoulder
gets yelled at by his mom and gives her a sheepish smile before rolling his eyes and throwing you down on the sofa set next to him
his mom doesn’t approve of the way he treats you but you tell her its fine because he’s cute
when you are far from any type of civilization or in the safety and solitude of your own home, he wants kisses on the forehead
pointing up to it and bending down so you could reach it
“y/n, i only love you because of your forehead kisses.”
“you only love me for my kisses?” :(
“mhm.”
actually feels slightly bad
“and because of your personality.”
“thank you-“
“shut up. we don’t talk about this.”
in conclusion, give him his forehead kisses or perish
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awesamdude -
sam just adores it when you give him jawline kisses
not because it’s basically the only place you could reach but because it’s a sweet gesture
sam is all about sweetness
i mean have you even seen this man on his stream
he likes to watch you while you have conversations with your friends
not in a creepy way but more like an adoring way
cause man does he love you
i mean not only does he love you but his whole family does
and when you’re alone with sam, you love to bury him underneath all of your love
“i love you sam!”
“no i love you more y/n!”
“NO i LOVE you more!”
“NO i LOVE you MORE!”
“SAM NO. I LOVE YOU MORE!”
“okay thank you sweet pea.”
leaving you a bit confused but happy that he accepts your love
when you cuddle, omg
he never stops peppering kisses all over your face and vice versa because your relationship is disgustingly fluffy
when he lends you one of his sweatshirts, you sure as hell better wear that shit out or else (i am leaving a blank threat here)
sam loves technology but you guys sort of have a system
a system that involves mailing each other love letters rather than texting them
you guys also go on a ton of walks just about anywhere
hand holding is mandatory even though you probably look like a child compared to him
just give sam lots of love and in return, you’ll receive lots of love
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quackity -
mans cannot leave you tf alone
likes to do ANYTHING freaky around you
“i will follow you to the ends of the earth, mi amor.” or
“ayy, back off.” if anyone gets too close to you
messes with you twenty four seven and makes it his job to drive you insane
plays horror games at two in the morning for fun
and when he gets scared, hides in the safety of your arms
“mi amor. i’m scared.”
“shut the fuck up and sleep, alex.”
“okay.” shuts up quickly and snuggles deeper into the crook of your neck
loves you so deeply but HATES your cat
“look at that little dumb thing stare at me. you got a problem bro?”
your cat also HATES alex
scratches him all the time and hisses at him
if you think sapnap is babie, wait till you meet alex
“y/n he bit me!”
when you glance down, you don’t even see a scratch
“kiss my boo boo.”
wtf
“what boo boo? there’s nothing there.”
gasps as if you offended him
“this boo boo that your el demonio did to me.”
this man will do anything to get boo boo kisses
istg, you once found him provoking your cat to get some scratches
in alex’s mind, ouchies = kisses from y/n
always has ouchies from god knows where and shows it to you
even though you find it annoying at first, you grow used to it and it sorta becomes your thing with alex
alex is babie and you need to take good care of him :)
9K notes · View notes
extravaguk · 8 months ago
Text
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pairing: jungkook x reader
summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.
Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.
wordcount: 15k
genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader
rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)
warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much
author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!
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Inkphoria
You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.
Inkphoria
You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.
Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.
'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'
You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.
'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'
But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.
'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'
That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.
The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks
"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."
Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.
"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."
She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"
"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."
"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"
"Nipples. Like, one of them."
Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."
The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.
Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.
"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.
He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?
"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."
September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.
Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.
So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.
"It's fine. I can do it."
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"JK, sweetheart!"
Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.
"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."
Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.
"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.
Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.
Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.
It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.
Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.
And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.
Dammit.
He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.
He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.
"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.
You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.
Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."
So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-
He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.
"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.
Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.
Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.
"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.
You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-
"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.
"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.
"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.
"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.
"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-
He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.
Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.
"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-
He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."
He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.
"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."
But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.
"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."
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"Let me see!"
It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.
When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.
But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.
Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.
You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.
Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.
So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.
So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.
But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.
Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.
The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.
But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.
You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.
With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.
It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.
And oh, did it react.
He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.
There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.
You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.
And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'
You swear you almost came right on his table.
And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.
So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.
"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"
"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."
At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"
"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."
There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"
You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.
"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."
Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.
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You know he's here.
Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.
It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.
You don't see him, but you feel him.
You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.
You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.
You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.
To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-
Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.
You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.
"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.
"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"
Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."
When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.
"You okay?"
The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.
"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.
Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.
Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.
"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.
"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."
"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"
"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.
Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.
And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.
"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"
You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.
"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"
"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."
"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.
"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.
He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.
His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.
Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.
Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.
Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.
Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.
"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.
"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.
"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."
Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.
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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.
He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.
He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.
He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.
So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.
He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.
You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.
He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.
"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.
"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.
"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"
Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"
"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."
Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.
"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"
"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"
He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"
Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"
"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.
"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"
"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"
Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."
"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."
"Why not?"
"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"
It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."
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You've made up your mind.
And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.
It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.
Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?
You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.
You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.
But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.
So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.
And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.
"Fuck him."
"I know right? Fuck him!"
"No. I mean, fuck him."
And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.
"A date."
"Yes."
"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"
He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.
"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."
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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.
He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?
"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.
He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.
How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.
But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.
He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.
It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.
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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.
You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-
"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."
"Sharon Stone?"
"Chaelin's cat."
To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.
He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"
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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.
You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.
You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.
To your surprise, none of that happened.
The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.
There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.
It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.
"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.
Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.
"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.
At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.
"I'm sorry, by the way."
"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"
"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."
A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."
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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.
At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.
But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.
It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.
"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.
You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.
"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.
"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."
There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.
"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.
"Jungkook."
You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.
"You have to stop saying my name like that."
With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.
"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.
"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.
But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.
The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.
He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.
"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.
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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."
"Yes."
"And you came before the ride was over."
You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."
She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.
"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"
There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."
There's another pause, and then-
"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"
You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.
Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.
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It's not that you're mad.
Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.
Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.
'Next time, maybe.'
And there hasn't been a next time.
The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.
But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.
It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.
Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.
'you free on saturday?'
You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.
So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.
And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.
You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.
You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.
A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.
"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.
Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.
"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.
Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.
Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.
You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.
His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.
"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.
You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.
It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.
"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.
Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.
"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.
"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.
"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.
There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."
Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.
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At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.
Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.
"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.
"Rocky road."
"Why?"
He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."
You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"
"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."
"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"
"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.
"Okay, fine. Why?"
"You're boring and basic."
You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."
You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.
You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.
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The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.
It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.
It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.
It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.
It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.
Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.
But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.
You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.
Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.
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Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.
It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.
He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.
He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.
And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.
Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.
He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.
"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.
"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.
"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.
"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."
Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.
"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."
"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"
You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.
Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.
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There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.
"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.
"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."
You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.
He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."
"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.
"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"
"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"
"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"
You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"
He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"
"Ju- "
"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."
Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.
You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.
"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"
"Please, don't laugh."
That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.
She doesn't laugh at all.
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"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."
"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."
"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."
"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.
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"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.
"I know. I'm just sad."
"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."
"I know."
There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.
"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.
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It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.
He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.
He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.
He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.
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Inkphoria.
You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.
'You're crazy about him.'
Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.
You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.
'And he's cazy about you too.'
Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.
That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.
The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."
You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"
"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.
"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.
She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."
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Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-
Knock knock.
He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"
He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.
"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.
"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"
"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."
Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.
You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."
"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."
You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"
"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"
The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."
He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.
He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.
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The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.
This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.
"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.
"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.
Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.
"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.
"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.
Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.
He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.
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5K notes · View notes
seita · a year ago
Text
— better than (m.)
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pairing : iwaizumi/reader
wordcount : 3.087
genre : fluff, smut, pwp
cw : college!au, athletic trainer!iwaizumi
tags : implied age gap (hes 27 reader is in college- age nkt specified. he's older tho), size kink, dom!iwa, pussy job (a lil bit), multiple orgasms, sensitivity kink (if u squint), squirting, fingering, creampie, aftercare.
note : this was just an excuse to write about how iwaizumi is better than any other boy <3 thank u to @toshisins for beta'ing this for me <3
+ summary : you're so tired of dumb college boys who hump and dump, with no stroke game, and can never even try to get you off. that is, until you meet 27 year old iwaizumi hajime.
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When you first met Iwaizumi Hajime at the bar near your college campus, you noticed how good looking he was. Well, that was an understatement - he was tall, fit with tanned skin and a confident aura that made you weak in the knees.
You hadn't actually had the courage to approach him, however. Instead, you let some college boy buy you a cheap drink and take you home for some mediocre sex before kicking you out after not even 15 minutes of his reckless humping.
The second time you met him was at the same place. He was sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey that was almost empty. His back was to you and it gave you a wonderful view of his broad shoulders.
The mediocre lay from the last time you had been there attempted to chat you up again with false confidence, as if he had been the best fuck of your life. Naturally, you weren't having any of his bullshit - he tried to rub your clit like a scratch and sniff, forcing you to pry his hand away from it, there was no chance in hell you were giving him another second of your time. He definitely wasn't the type of guy who took rejection well, if not evident by the way he exploded and went off calling you a wide, colorful variety of names paired with numerous hurtful insults that had tears of humiliation filling your eyes.
“Hey now,” a smooth, deep voice had interrupted his very public spiel, “Don’t punish the girl for your own short comings, if she doesn't wanna fuck you again, don't you think that says more about your abilities as a man?”
The other man sputtered, muttering even more curses before storming out - probably not wanting to tussle with a guy who looked like he benched every second of his day.
There was something about Iwaizumi that just immediately had your heart skipping a beat over him. He was kind, a gentleman, and never seemed desperate or overbearing. He was confident and comfortable with himself and where he was in life.
You quickly learned that Iwaizumi was 27, almost 28 and worked as an athletic trainer so he traveled a lot.
For a while, your relationship seemed one sided with him. You'd text him and he’d reply but he rarely ever actually reached out to you. You tried flirting with him, asking him out for drinks, but it never seemed to pull him in.
It was frustrating. In basically no time at all, you had developed a stupid puppy dog crush on him. You felt like a middle school girl with a crush on a high school senior - like he was never going to give you the time of day. You were simply too young for him.
You eventually stopped trying with him, choosing to delete your message thread with him and continued on with your life.
You went through more college-boy hookups - all of them ending in disaster. Quite frankly, you were fed up with mediocre cock and being treated like shit when they were done with you. It wasn't a nice feeling, being kicked out after they didn't even bother trying to make you cum.
You couldn’t help but wonder what Iwaizumi would be like in bed. He was just so attractive, you knew he had gotten his dick wet more times than he could count. He definitely seemed the type who preferred relationships over hookups.
That's when it occurred to you.
You pulled out your phone and scoured your contacts. It had been a couple weeks since you spoke but you couldn't resist bugging him just one last time. You opened a new message thread with him and quickly typed the question that was now plaguing your mind.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
It was the question that had changed the course of your relationship with him.
When you asked, it was like everything fell into place. Perhaps it finally relayed to him the interest you had. All that really mattered was the fact he suddenly began talking to you, starting conversations and even venturing into phone calls with you.
You lost all interest in those college boys you once hung out with and went home with to get laid. None of them made you feel the way Iwaizumi could with a simple text message. He was everything a girl could ask for and you were shocked he was single.
Which was why you were quick to ask him on a date, not caring if it made you look desperate -- you practically were. You would be damned if he went off the market while you were busy beating around the bush.
Going on a date with Iwaizumi was like a dream. You were so used to dates at sleazy bars for a couple of drinks just so they could hurry up and take you home for a quick fuck.
Iwaizumi took the time to take you on several dates -- dinner, movies, walks around town to obscure shops he thought you might like, before it finally led to the bedroom.
You had never been nervous with sex but with Iwaizumi it was different. The routine was dumb college boys who usually fawned over your tits for a few minutes before their hard ons became the center of their brain function.
You found yourself completely bare on his bed as he stood at the foot, fully clothed. The way his eyes raked across your body like a lion eyeing its next, delicious meal had you curling in on yourself shyly.
His lips quirked up as your arms came across your breasts, shielding them from his predatory gaze, “Oh now, you know better than that, don’t you? What kind of good girl hides herself, hm? Acted so eager for my cock all this time, now you wanna be shy?”
You gasp, cheeks flushing hot as you register his words -- he’d known you wanted him that badly all this time?
He clicks his tongue, “You didn’t think you were subtle did you? Bet you would have done anything to get your paws on my dick when I got off work early the other day, hm? Showed up at your apartment...you were starin’ real hard at me, I’m right aren’t I?”
You think that to that day, lashes fluttering against your cheeks at the memory. He was wearing loose gray sweats and a muscle tank top that showed his biceps flexing with every movement he made. Your eyes had immediately been drawn, however more down to his crotch instead. Where you could clearly see the outline of his cock through the material.
You had stuffed your little fingers in your cunt for hours that night, thinking about how big he looked -- even soft, couldn’t imagine if he was hard.
“Ah, there you go again,” he muses, snapping you out of your haze, “Maybe if you ask real pretty for me, I’ll give you just what you want.”
“Please,” you immediately gasp, “Want you so much Hajime, i-it hurts. Can’t stop thinkin’ about you…”
“It hurts?” he huffs, finally reaching up to pull his shirt off, leaving you to ogle his pecs and defined abs, which flex as he works on removing his jeans, “Needy little cunt hurts ‘cause you don’t have a nice, fat cock stuffing it full? Such a dramatic little baby. I just know your phone is full of some little college boys’ numbers...why don’t you give them a call?”
You shake your head, “Don’t want them! I just know they’re not as good as you, Hajime, please...please make me cum, I'll do anything?”
“Aw, those idiot little boys don’t know how to make a pretty girl like you cum, is that it?” he asks, climbing onto the bed, making the mattress dip beneath you as he slots himself between your thighs.
“No,” you pout, letting him spread your legs, hands under your knees to open you up to his greedy gaze.
“So compliant with me, you just need a real man to get you off, huh?” he smiles when you nod, “Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of you.”
Oh, you knew. Just from the way he moved his hips against yours, parting your folds so the head of his cock glided from your clenching little hole, dragging your slick up to your clit -- you just knew that he knew what he was doing.
As you looked between your legs, you felt yourself gush at the sight. His cock was so big, long and fat, drooling precum over your slick little slit, making a mess. He wrapped his fist around his length, making you whimper as his fingers couldn’t even wrap around the girth of him. He slapped his cock against your cunt, groaning at the strings of your slick that clung to him.
“Such a messy cunt,” he sighs, making sure to spank your clit with the head of his cock, laughing breathlessly when your thighs jumped in response to the sudden stimulation, “So fucking eager for me, aren’t you?”
“Uhuh,” you sigh, arching your hips, “Want you to fuck, please, Hajime, need it so bad.”
Much to your dismay, he shakes his head, “Can’t just put it in, pretty baby,” the pet name makes you whimper, “It’ll hurt too much, want you to feel good, yeah?”
“I can handle it,” you breathlessly reassure, canting his hips upward once more to drag your clit against that ridge on the crown of his cock, “Jus’ put it in…”
He doesn’t respond this time but still makes no move to put his cock inside. You’re distracted, however, by the way he now focuses on playing with your clit. Using his cock, he drags the underside across the hard little bud, slaps it once with the tip and before you know it your body is seizing up and you cum.
You let out a string of curses, falling limp against the bed as he works you through the quick high.
“See, that was so easy,” he chuckles, “Those stupid little boys you’ve been letting screw you have no idea what they’re doing, do they? Little cunts so sensitive, I barely even had to do anything to make you cum.”
You’re still trembling when you come down, licking your lips as you give him a dopey little smile and a nod at his cooing. He can’t resist leaning down, and pressing his lips against yours almost desperately. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him in a deep kiss while his hand finds its way between your legs, two fingers sliding easily into your slick little cunt.
You moan into his mouth, “Hajime ah! ...please, make me cum again.”
“Fuck, you’re so desperate for me,” he hisses through his teeth, “Clenching around my fingers so tight. If I crook my fingers...right here...I bet you’ll just…”
As if on cue, his fingertips hook on your g-spot and you squeal, legs kicking out as you gush around his fingers. He bites his lip and continues to fuck his fingers against that spot, watching your eyes roll back, mouth falling open in a silent cry as you cum for the second time in mere minutes.
“Y-You’re so good, Hajime…” you praise softly, “Fuck, please, give me your cock now!”
He laughs and sits up properly again, pulling his fingers from your cunt. He examines them for a second, slick with your cum and streaks of cream covering the digits before he pops them into his mouth with a moan, savoring the taste of you.
“Alright, baby,” he sighs after pulling out his fingers with a pop!. He grips you beneath the knees again and scoots closer until his tip prods at your entrance. You shudder at the feeling, “Relax for me, pretty girl, let me in…”
Iwaizumi begins pushing in, letting out a soft groan as the head finally buries itself in your cunt. You squeal at the feeling, pulling your knees closer to your chest. The sound of you moaning and whimpering just from his head has him throbbing almost painfully against your tender cunt.
“Almost there…” he huffs, grinning at the sight of your eyes rolling back, “Ah, does that feel good?”
“Yes!” you cry out, “Biggest cock I’ve ever had…’s full…”
“Yeah, baby? It feels so good to finally get your cunt filled with a nice, big cock huh?” he laughs when you nod eagerly, “It’s alright, baby. You won’t have to deal with any mediocre college boys anymore, yeah? This cock’s all yours now…you hear that? All yours.”
Your hand flies down between your legs, finding your clit. He watches with lidded eyes as you circle the little bud and squeal, keeping his hips still to let you cum around his cock nice and hard like you need.
“That’s it, pretty girl,” he hums, “Get yourself off, you know what you need...atta girl…”
You sigh happily at his praise, licking your lips and relax against the bed once more. He takes that as his hint that you were ready, pulling his hips back before roughly slamming back inside your sensitive cunt. It knocks the air from your lungs and you cry out, unable to hold back your noises as he fucks you senseless.
He uses his strength to keep you pinned, forcing your knees against your chest, leaving your cunt open and vulnerable to his pistoning cock. Iwaizumi is so big that the stretch burns every time he sinks back into you, the tip touching your cervix with every calculated thrust, making your entire body ache with the deep pain of it.
But it all feels so good, you’d never been fucked like that before. He knew exactly where to aim his cock, keeping his eyes fixed on your face to watch your reactions, gaze flicking down to where his cock stuffs your cunt full to watch you coat him in your cream whenever he grazes that sweet little spot deep inside you -- a spot no other man had ever tried to find before.
“Feel good?” he questions, though he knew the answer even before you cry it out.
“Ah, yes! Yes, yes, yes!” you sob, “I-It feels so good, Hajime! Fuck, you’re so good at fucking me! You make me feel like a virgin all over again!”
He grins, “Yeah, I know I am, baby.”
His cocky, confident response would have been a turn off with any other man, but with him -- it only made you moan. He had every right to be cocky, he knew just how to use his cock and it was exhilarating.
“You gotta cum again for me, pretty,” he pants, “Cum again, one more time, let go.”
Your throat burns from how much you scream for him, the messy noises coming from him fucking your sloppy cunt should be embarrassing -- you’ve never made such a mess before. You’ve never been so wet, creaming and gushing all the way down his balls.
He didn’t seem to mind, instead he seemed to only be turned on by it.
“I want you to squirt, can you do that for me? Make a pretty mess for me.”
You shake your head, “D-Don’t know how...Can’t.”
“Yes you can, baby,” he purrs, “I can make you, you know that I will.”
You didn’t but, you couldn’t help but nod -- immediately believing him and trusting him. He shifts his knees just slightly, changing his center of balance before his palm curls over your pubic bone, thumb effortlessly finding itself pressed against your clit.
The change in angle lets him hit your g-spot even more brutal than before. You’re immediately arching and crying out for him, eyes rolling back into your head as you feel your orgasm slam into you faster than you’d ever experienced.
Instead of slowing you down, he works you through it, keeping the same, animalistic pace and keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, the rough pad of his thumb has you ogling. If anything, the calloused hands of Iwaizumi proves to you how much of a real man he is, those college boys have nothing on him.
“Give it to me, c’mon,” he urges, clenching his teeth together from the effort it takes to keep going to this hard and fast pace.
“H-Haji…” you cut yourself off as you feel yourself get thrown over the edge again. This time, something feels different and you can’t help but sob, “Please! I-I’m gonna-!”
“That’s it, fuck!” he moans, pace stuttering when you squirt -- your cum splashing against his abs as you shudder and squeal, “Good fuckin’ girl, my good girl. Shit, where do you want me to cum?”
“I-Inside! Fuck, please! I need your cum!” you immediately sob, nails biting in his biceps where you reach out to grip him -- trembling and crying from overstimulation as he works towards his own high.
“You sure? Shit,” you nod, breathless pleas falling from your lips as he finally stills, spilling his load deep inside with a long, drawn-out groan.
Everything is still for a moment and then he’s pulling out with a hiss. You whine at the feeling of your cunt gaping, yearning for his cock again, as his cum leaks out.
He hums, “Sorry about that, let me get you cleaned up.”
You sigh, and close your eyes, trying to relax and let your body settle its trembling. He comes back and quietly works on cleaning the mess between your thighs.
“Alright, up you go,” he sighs, taking your arm and helping you to your feet. You whine and wobble for a second, making him laugh, “You good?”
“Y-Yeah…” you stumble a bit and lean against his dresser, looking for your discarded clothes.
He has his back to you as he strips his sheets. Suddenly, you feel shut out -- like you shouldn’t be there anymore.
He brushes past you to his closet, pulling out some fresh sheets. You feel silly, standing there naked while he gets ready for bed. You bend down and grab your panties, clumsily putting them on before moving to pick up your dress, where it’s crumpled on the floor.
“What’re you doing?” he laughs, “That won’t be comfortable to sleep in.”
“Huh?” you tilt your head to the side and he pauses fluffing his pillows.
“What...you didn’t think I was kicking you out, did you?” he asks and scoffs at the face you make.
“Well I...usually I…” you shift on your feet nervously and he frowns, walking up to you.
He cups your cheeks and makes you look at him, “Jesus, who have you been fucking?” he laughs and gently nudges you towards the bed, “Lay down before you fall over.”
Fighting back a smile, you do as you’re told and sit on the bed, watching as he puts on a fresh pair of sweats, waiting for him to join you. When he does, he immediately pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“Take a nap, and then we’ll take a shower.”
“It’s 11 at night, it wouldn’t be a nap,” you counter with a giggle.
“Well,” he sighs, “Take a shower in the morning then, and then we can go get breakfast, yeah?”
You smile and relax against him, “Sounds good.”
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seita © 2020 | all content and its rights belong to me. do not modify or repost
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clout-babe · 4 months ago
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Hello! I hope your having an amazing day also can I request something? AFAB coming up to them and hugging then behind while streaming? (Dreamteam, wilbur and maybr eret please?)
hello ! i’m having a fantastic day and i hope urs is great as well <33 your wish is my command ! very big brain u have there
i did this bullet style so i hope ur okay w that
also im not currently writing for eret bc i don’t know their current content well enough, if that makes sense. i will be in the future though hopefully :)
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Hugging them from behind on Stream
includes : cc!dreamwastaken, cc!georgenotfound, cc!sapnap, and cc!wilbur soot
genre: fluff 100%
warnings: afab, language
[sfw]
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see pinned b4 requesting!
dream
you were probably just feeling needy
that happens in a relationship where both of you have physical intimacy as a love language
you knew he was streaming
as quietly as possibly you opened the door to his office
being so quiet, he didn’t even notice you came in
good thing he doesn’t use facecam
you would walk up behind his chair and run your fingers lightly across his shoulders, causing him to jump
“AH- shit! y’ scared me babe.”
you’d finally wrap your arms around the chair to hug him
would probably mute his mic for a minute
“did you need something?”
“nah i just wanted to love on you”
“aweee my baby wants attention”
“did you want me to end?”
“no, i know you need to work.”
“you sure? i swear i was finishing soon anyways-“
eventually you’d be able to convince him to continue streaming
for the rest of the stream you sat sideways in his lap, just laying your head on his shoulder
he made sure not to yell anymore just so you would feel comfy.
george
george doesn’t always stream
but when he does it takes forever
at least in your opinion
laying in bed as your stupidly cute boyfriend took forever on his work became boring
So you devised a simple plan
go in the room, give george a quick hug, then head out.
george does use a facecam however, so as you shuffle down the hall to his streaming room, you mess around with your hair a little bit.
once you enter the room, george immediately looks over.
his face twists into shock as he mutes his mic
“love, i’m streaming”
“…i know”
“you never come in when i’m streaming”
you could tell he was worried because you haven’t been introduced to the internet yet.
“… i know”
you walk over behind him slowly. you can tell his breath gets caught in his throat as he watched you come into view of the camera on his monitor.
you put your arms around him from behind, resting your head on his shoulder.
“hello chat,” you smile.
a small smile makes its way onto george’s face as the chat speeds up
“gogy in his relationship arc?” he says reading chat
“i suppose you could say that,” he looks up at you grinning
(he’s so ahhh i love him)
sapnap
sapnap was DISTRACTED by stream
like don’t get me wrong it was high energy and super entertaining to watch
but sitting on the bed out of frame wasn’t gonna cut it anymore like it had been the last 2 1/2 hours.
you stood up, and before he even had a chance to think, you were gathering him in your arms from behind, stuffing your face into his shoulder
“you smell nice” it was muffled
he would be a nervous wreck with you on camera
“i uh- yeah um- haha”
eventually he’d get more comfy
“chat y/n will literally say she’s fine with me streaming then demand my attention”
chat is quick to defend you
“what do you guys mean?”
“they mean you should end stream and gimme attention”
“alright, mods run a poll”
chat works in your favor and he ends stream to cuddle with you
“fine angel, i guess you always win.” he mumbles into ur shoulder before falling asleep in your arms
wilbur
100% planned on not streaming then he did
will’s viewers knew you two were together, but they knew both of you by your internet personas
you two typically do streams together, but today you felt really sleepy
will figured you two could just hang, but then spontaneously decided he wanted to go live
you let him, not wanting to mess up his work flow
however, your oh-so-holiness on the situation morphed into regret and you realized all you wanted to was give him a hug
have that stupid lanky boy in your arms
you knocked on the door to the room where he was streaming, not wanting to catch him off guard
“come in!” followed shortly after
you shuffled into the room
his face lights up just at the sight of you, and it’s easy for chat to see.
“hi darling!”
he’s very chipper but quickly becomes confused when you don’t respond
“everything alright, love?”
you simply lurk behind him, throwing your arms lazily around his shoulders and rest your head sideways on your arm.
“ah” he catches on quickly.
you just kinda hang around the stream after that, and it doesn’t really distract him too much.
he continues blabbering on about any minuscule thing he can bring to mind.
EVENTUALLY, you pull another chair up next to him but mainly stay quiet, pulling one of his hands to your lap and fiddling with his fingers.
every now and then he’ll ask for your opinion, and you have to ask him to repeat bc you were too focused on his bone structure
(AHHHHHH)
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kanao-kyun · 2 months ago
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tokyo rev: Fucking their little brother's crush.
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Charaters: Ran/Rindou & Taiju/Hakkai
Tw: fem! reader, heavy smut, choking, daddy kink, slight mind break, praising, slight dacryphilia, Taiju fucking the shit out reader.
synopsis: He couldn't help it; you look so fucking adorable underneath him. You're his favorite lil plaything. Just don't tell his brother.
a/n: Part 2 here
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TAIJU/HAKKAI
Your back was pressed against the cold desk in the classroom. Loud sounds of skin slapping can be heard in the empty hallway. "Fuck! You feel so good." Taiju felt you tighten up at the praise, "oh? you got tighter. Want me to keep going?" his growling sends shivers down your spine as he fucks you into oblivion. "Y-Yes! Please keep g-going, daddy!" Your whines were intoxicating.
Staring in awe, the younger Shiba stares intensely through the cracked door. He couldn't believe his eyes; your skirt hiked up to your wet thighs, uniform shirt wrinkled and unbuttoned, and don't get him started on the vulgar expressions on your face every time Taiju would hit your sweet spot.
Hakkai should be mad. He fucking should be, but instead, the strain on his pants tightens as he watches his lifelong crush getting fucked against the teacher's desk. He feels disgusted with himself for looking.
"Does my pathetic brother make you feel this good?"
Hakkai's eyes widen at the mention of his name. He opens the door a bit, only to see those evil eyes that have scared him since childhood staring back at him with a smirk.
'leave! Just leave!' But something within him wants to stay. He wants to hear your answer.
"Answer me, pet!" Taiju's thrust became brutal to the point where half your body is about to slip off the desk. "I-I love him!" You squeaked, gripping onto the edges of the desk for dear life. A murmur of 'bullshit' escapes the Black Dragon leader's mouth as his hand wraps around your throat while the other holds your leg up to drill his cock deeper, earning him a cry of pleasure from your pretty little mouth.
One thing is for sure, other than Hakkai watching you get drilled by his psychopathic brother, his heart swells at the fact that you feel the same too.
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RAN/RINDOU
It was wrong. So fucking wrong.
But Rindou couldn't help but peek through the bedroom door. All he wanted to do was invite you out to lunch or early dinner, so he came over to your house to surprise you. Guess he wasn't the only one with plans.
The squeaking sound of your twin-sized bed, along with the banging of the headboards, gave the younger Haitani a general idea of what was going on but still in complete denial. There's no way that you're doing… that, right? Rin quietly walks towards your bedroom door, his heart still racing and sweat coating his forehead.
Why was he so nervous? He already knows what's going on (by the sounds of your moans), so there shouldn't be any reason to be scared. If anything, he should be fucking furious! Who's fucking you s,o good?
"Shit princess~ Why are you so tight?" A familiar voice pants from the other side of the cracked door. Rindou stops at the tracks, his once pacing heart now stopped dead on its tracks. 'There's no fucking way.
"Feels good! D-Don't stop Ran... please~."
The shaking hand of the younger delinquent opens the door slowly to reveal a steamy sight. Your naked back facing Rindou as you rode the older brother in a timid yet sensual way. Passionate.
Rindou's breath hitched, while the sight itself was hot, he couldn't help but feel betrayed. Why would his older brother betray him like this?
While your whines suppressed the noise that Rindou made, Ran heard it as clear as day, making eye contact with his little brother while fucking your brains out.
"Princess?" The thrusting stops for a moment, looking at your dumbed-out form with a grin. You answered with a moan, looking at the older man with a dazed expression while cockwarming him, "Do you love my brother?"
The sudden question caught not only you but Rindou off guard. Why is he asking something like that now? You took a second to process the question, "I do. I-I love Rin- Ah!" The sudden thrust caught you off guard, making your body jerk at the sudden wave of pleasure.
"Say that again, princess. I don't think he heard you~" The whispering in your ear was enough to make you obey him, not fully taking in his words.
"I-I love Rin! God... I love him so much.." The desperate whines of confessed love had Rindou on edge as he made his way towards the bed.
"I guess sharing isn't such a bad idea."
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kirishimas-manly-eyeliner · 10 months ago
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➶ WHAT MAKES THE MHA BOYS BREAK (PT. 1)
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pairings: mezo shoji, tokoyami fumikage, hanta sero, izuku midoriya, shoto todoroki, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari, hitoshi shinsou
warnings: reverse comfort, may or may not have cried a lil’ while writing this. this one hurt a lot but it’s so sweet and fluffy, enjoy luvs!! also lol you could see my favoritism for kirishima
part two with bakugo, iida, ojiro, tamaki, mirio, hawks, dabi, shigaraki, and aizawa is here!
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WHEN YOU CALL THEM BEAUTIFUL: MEZO SHOJI, TOKOYAMI FUMIKAGE, HANTA SERO
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MEZO SHOJI 
(HE’S SO UNDERRATED LIKE PLS Y’ALL 😩)
he starts panicking as soon as you ask him to take off his mask
at first, he declines right away before turning his face around so you couldn’t touch the fabric
“mezo, i promise. i won’t hurt you, or judge you i just- i want you to trust me, is that alright with you?” you said gently. “but if you don’t want to, don’t worry about it, ‘kay?”
could he really trust you? or would you leave when he found out he wasn’t a normal person with a normal smile, that he was a monster, that was someone who looked different, what would you do?
but if you didn’t love him for who he really was, then... what was the point, right?
shoji let out a trembled sighed in defeat as his dupli-arms took the mask off. he looked down in shame, eyes shut so he couldn’t see your reaction
but your reaction was... completely unexpected
"You're beautiful!!! Why didn't you tell me that you looked so lovely all this time baby??" 
did he just hear you correctly?
did you just-- call him beautiful?
and in that moment, in those small moments, you can see his geniune smile.
his real smile beneath the mask, as his eyes shine for the first time with sincere, and earnest love and thanks
pls keep him 🥺
TOKOYAMI FUMIKAGE
the moment he hear the words "you're beautiful" come out of your mouth, he couldn't stop thinking about it for days. 
and i mean days as in multiple days, so probably weeks
and he’ll probably think about it for the rest of his life
because when he looked at himself, he thought: what about him was beautiful? 
he didn't have human-like features like everyone else, he didn't have those big muscles and a nice body, because-- well, he had a bird head!
A LITERAL BIRD HEAD, so why on earth did you: you who had human features, you who was so nice to everyone, and you who could have gone for so many other people call him beautiful?
he didn’t have that charisma and extroverted personality like some others did, and he kept to himself 
why did you think he was beautiful? how?
but you were the one who said it. you were the one who reminded him, you were the one who gave him hope
and he knew that you were always straightforward with the truth-- and this was a truth, too
and to him, that was the most beautiful thing.
HANTA SERO
this amazing bby doesn’t get enough recognition
but for a good part of his life, he’d been surrounded by people with amazing quirks, levels of strength, and amazing appearances.
he was literally friends with bakugo fricking katsuki, and he was in the same class as shoto todoroki
when he first met you, he had to convince himself for days that there was no way that he could ever catch your eye,
until he did.
when you two met after a long day of training and you told him a joke, his eyes sparkled and he laughed, genuinely
before you knew it, you blurted out the words, “you’re beautiful” before realizing what you’d said and flushing
lol sero chokes on his water
“...did you really mean that?” 
“i- yeah, sorry, i didn’t-”
“no, uh, thank you. thank you so much.”
for the next few days, he stays up at night and keeps on training because he thinks of the time you called him, who constantly felt like he wasn’t enough, beautiful
and that was more than enough to make him smile. 🥺💕
WHEN YOU KISS THEIR SCARS: IZUKU MIDORIYA, SHOTO TODOROKI
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IZUKU MIDORIYA
he immediately starts tearing up when you kiss them
most people probably expect him to get flushed with something so intimate, but it’s the opposite
his scars are just something that’s so meaningful to him because it’s evidence of what he’s been through
but at the same time, he’s also insecure about them because he feels like he disappointed his mom by getting hurt so often 🥺
when you kiss his scars and tell them that they’re beautiful, he starts tearing up because-- wow
this is the moment that he’ll remember until the day he dies, because it’s when he feels free to finally open up to you
it’s when he feels free to open up to anyone, for that matter, and a huge weight just gets lifted off his chest
you took his hands and kissed his knuckles before pressing your forehead to his
izuku begins to cry, just a little bit as you gingerly kiss his scars again
“you see? you’re safe. you’re safe with me, okay?”
he nods slowly. “th-thank you.”
SHOTO TODOROKI
you two were walking back to the dorms after training out on the field together
it wasn’t too late a night, just a few minutes before curfew
your hands were buried in your pockets as you two talked about your day and what you could improve on in training
“shoto, can i ask you a question?”
he thought you were mad at him for a moment 😳
“sure.”
you swallowed, as you took a breath, “can i touch your scar?”
he whips his head around, out of shock and confusion
you wanted to touch his scar?
shoto had never planned on anything like that happening to him, and especially not from someone who meant so much to him
“...i suppose so,”
you hid your anxiousness and swallowed, cupping his face in your hands as your hand brushed across his scar
a jolt went through your fingers at that moment, and it was the first time you’d ever felt so connected to someone
shoto todoroki, the prodigy and son of endeavor was letting you touch his scar
to your surprise, shoto melted into it as he closed his eyes, placing his hand gently on top of yours 
you could feel his hands shaking though his expressions were so relaxed
you kissed the side of his scar, running a hand through his hair
“i’m so lucky to have you.”
WHEN YOU COMPLIMENT HIS QUIRK: EIJIRO KIRISHIMA, DENKI KAMINARI, HITOSHI SHINSOU 
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EIJIRO KIRISHIMA
eijiro cursed as he slammed his head against the wall for the hundredth time that day
he hated to admit it, but ever since the sports festival, everything had just been falling apart
for starters, he was already insecure enough on his own about his quirk
it seemed like everyone had something flashy and made them look invincible, while he was stuck with something that could only follow around his body and cracked if he used it too much
and that... that made him upset
but when the sports festival came around, not only did he see everyone with amazing quirks and using them to their full potential, tetsutetsu had nearly the same quirk as him
and to make matters worse, they had tied and had to settle it with a fist fight
“why?” he asked to himself, looking down at the floor. “why couldn’t i- why couldn’t i have been born with a flashier quirk?”
great, now he was crying.
at least no one else was around to see him this weak-
“kirishima?”
oh shit.
he turned around, his bloodshot eyes locking with yours. “h-hey,” eijiro said weakly 
“what are you- what are you doing here-?” you noticed the way his body trembled when he took a breath and blood trickling from his forehead. “hey, are you okay?” you said.
eijiro sincerely had no idea what to say. “my quirk,” he looked down at his hands. 
you cocked your head. “what about it? i think it’s pretty neat!”
kirishima looked up. “really?”
“mhm!” you nodded enthusiastically. “it can be the strongest barrier, or the most powerful weapon! i think it’s cool that your body can just become a shield out of nowhere, it’s like-- it’s like you’re a shield, ya know? sure, todoroki might have his ice, but that makes damage and takes time to clean up, like midoriya’s punches or bakugo’s explosions. but your quirk is its own little thing! and i think that’s pretty neat.”
kirishima beamed. huh, maybe so. 
DENKI KAMINARI
“good job, bakugo!” 
“haha, nice job on that one, kirishima.”
“your quirk is so cool, todoroki! i love how the ice just went striaght through the roof!”
“nice jumping, deku! your punches are amazing.”
but i...
i was the one who helped the power come back, i was the one who literally fried my brain, i was the one who did all of that, and i-
i’m so weak.
denki inhaled through his nose, exhaled through his mouth, trying to stop the trembling in his breath as he closed his eyes
he had done so much, and what did he get in return?
all he wanted was to be someone, to be someone that made people smile, to be someone that people genuinely wanted to see
did anyone even want to see him?
“i’m a failure, i’m a failure, what am i doing, why am i so weakwhat’swrongwithmewhycan’tidoanythingright-”
“good job, kaminari!”
he turned his head, finding you running up to him and waving your hands up in the air
“hey! pikachu!” you exclaimed, trying to catch your breath once you stopped. “great job up there! you left before anyone else could notice, i can’t believe you managed to do all that. your quirk is so cool!”
denki’s heart swelled with pride, his eyes saying nothing but thanks.
your quirk is so cool!
“thanks, y/n! so, how do you feel about going to the arcade after school?”
HITOSHI SHINSOU
hitoshi stared at himself in the mirror, his eyes blood-shot and head fuzzy
“i’m not a villain.” hitoshi said slowly. “i can’t be a villain. i want to be a hero.” 
he splashed the sink water onto his face. “get yourself together, are you really going to let a few words hurt you?”
but hitoshi couldn’t help but feel that way-- what could he even use his quirk for- no, no, he could use it for so much. but...
“ha! a quirk such as yours should be only used for villains, you monster! you might as well get out of here before anyone else tries to kick you out.”
hitoshi screamed in anger, splashing the water across his face and pressing hard into his eyes, before slapping himself across the face
“get yourself together..”
“hey, shinsou!! i was wondering if-”
your eyes locked with his frustrated expression. “shinsou? is... something wrong?”
normally, he’d push you away, but-- but now, he really needed someone
your breath hitched when you saw his eyes land onto yours, but for some reason, there was something so lonely and upsetting behind them, before you remembered what a few students at ua had said.
you didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you were on a rush to get to school that morning and had to run ahead and pass through that area. 
“if it’s about what some of those idiots said this morning, just... know that i think, for the record, that your quirk is so cool.”
shinsou’s eyes furrowed in confusion. you? you thought his quirk was cool?
“i’m not lying,” you said, as if reading through his thoughts. “i really think its amazing. you can help so many people with it, you can change the entire world with a quirk as special as that, so act like it! because it’s true, your quirk is really amazing, and i’m pretty sure you’re the only one who doesn’t see it, you knucklehead.”
he doesn’t tell you this, but-
ever since that day, he’s never stopped thinking about it. 
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🕭 reblog | comment | follow 🕭
hey bbys! reminder to go drink water if you’re reading this! water nourshies your sexc body and can make you feel a heck ton better ‘bout yourself-- and remember, whatever you did today was more than enough. ily very much, but if it’s past your bedtime, GO TO SLEEP KIDDO, ily!
qotd, what’s your favorite drink 👀
join my family! 
list of family members: @kirishimuhhhhh​​, @xuxisushi-1​​, @kirishima-my-beloved​, @msminsuga​, @farfetchedparanoia​, @satis-mangata​, @moonhere​​, @renegadedeca​​, @viridevi​​ <3
☂ requests are open for mha + hq!! ☂
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eijishimas · 8 months ago
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caught red handed.
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18+ nsfw content. minors dni. all characters are aged up.
masterlist.
content warnings: f!reader, college!au, masturbation, mentions of alcohol, voyeurism, daddy kink, bit of a handjob, bit of oral (m!receiving), filming, slight degradation, creampie, one (1) instance of bakugou slapping your pussy.
notes: happy belated birthday to my bestie, @rekiri . you deserve the world and so much more, you’re sweet and hilarious and i fucking love talking to you, whether we’re joking or being more serious. i know you told me not to, but i really wanted to write something for you as a gift (because ya girl is a bit of a broke bitch). ik it’s not eren, kiri, or reki, but i hope you like this piece regardless. i love you, even if you annoy me to death, you whore /j. this one’s for you <3
wc: 2.6k | inspo (nsfw link): xxx
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Everyone knew college was stressful. Deadlines nearly every single week, assignments and essays, not to mention attending classes brought a whole new wave of anxieties for students every single day. Sometimes that stress was either doubled or relieved by having a partner for a project or two. Luckily for you, you and your old high school classmate Katsuki Bakugou were paired up for a project for one of your Quirk Law classes. It was a research project, one that required a forty slide presentation. You were headed on your way to Katsuki’s dorm today to work on it at the time you agreed upon: 5pm. Then you two would study together for upcoming midterms. It was all planned out down to a tee. So at around 3:50pm, Katsuki knew he had time. He figured he needed a break from his Rescue Tactics Indoors II class, otherwise his brain would begin oozing from his ears.
Pushing aside his overpriced textbook, he rolled his shoulders back, hearing the cracks of his stiff muscles while he stretched at his desk. He let out a sigh, propping his chin up on the palm of his hand as he scrolled mindlessly through his socials. Mina had posted a Throwback Thursday post, an old one of him and you back in your freshman year of college. His nose twitched in annoyance as he recalled the parties, more specifically Denki Kaminari’s birthday party, where he had gotten so drunk that the walls melted and bent before him. Katsuki’s expression changed however, as he swiped through the collection of photos to stumble across an image of you and him. Have you always worn dresses that tight? You practically had your ass out from how short your garment had been cut, tits threatening to spill out of your low hanging neckline. Not only that, but Katsuki had an arm slung around your shoulder. His smile was stretched wide due in part to the alcohol in his system, but also because you were standing next to him. You were laughing at something Mina had said behind the camera, your hand tossed against the slightly unbuttoned shirt Katsuki had worn that night. Your fingers had brushed against his toned chest and he scoffed at the thought. Slowly but surely, memories of that party flooded back to Katsuki in waves.
They were mostly recounts from Kirishima and Mina, but apparently you two had made out in front of everyone that night. He swiped left again, swallowing dryly as he saw just that. Your manicured fingers were wrapped tight around his party shirt, tongues in a deadly dance of want and desperation for each other. Katsuki’s eyes grew as he noticed that the photo hadn’t cut out the part where he had been kneading your ass through that skimpy dress of yours. Immediately, Katsuki went to Mina’s dms demanding to take down the photo. And she did, thank god, but not without sending Katsuki more than ten photos of you and him making out at the party. He clenched his jaw, anger and a low desire plaguing his conscience. Glancing to the top left corner of his phone, he noted the time. 4:10pm.
He had time.
Saving the photos to his gallery, he pushed his chair away from his desk to have some fucking breathing room. His eyes flitted down to his sweats and as he expected, there was a tent forming. He groaned, wiping the sweat from his palms off on his pant leg before languidly beginning to palm himself through his clothes. His breaths quickened, chest stuttering as he looked to his phone displaying the photos of you and him. There’s a faint recollection in the back of his head of how you taste. Like cherries from your glossy lips, like vodka from the shots you took off of Denki earlier that evening, how you moaned into his mouth the night you had drunkenly kissed.
Katsuki tugged the waistband of his sweats down, allowing his previously constrained cock to breathe. It slapped against his stomach, heavy and leaking. Shit, he didn’t remember being this horny at the beginning of this. Spitting into his palm, he lubed up his dick as best as he could on short notice. His eyelids drooped as he swiped through the pictures like a filmstrip, a montage of all the best moments he had with you at that party. You grinding on his lap, you whispering dirty ideas you wanted to do with him later, you, you, you…
Katsuki squeezed his aching shaft, fisting his cock as precum dribbled down his slippery head. His face was an uncanny shade of crimson, a testament to how horny he was all for a few old pictures of the two of you. “Y/n.” He swore he barely recognized his voice from how breathless and needy it was. He continued to pump his cock, the only thoughts replaying in his mind were perverted fantasies of you bouncing on his dick hard enough to hear the slap of your ass cheeks against his abs.
Tapping the screen of his phone twice to zoom in, he admired your curves with pursed lips. Fuck, you really were gorgeous. Everything about you radiated a sinful nature he could never put his tongue on. You were tempting him, licking flames up his body with such intensity that made him shiver. He cursed, thumb drifting over his slit as he hissed. Fuck you for being as ravishing as you were that night, fuck you for making him feel so goddamn needy for your-
“Bakugou, I was about to text you but I remembered you were studying today, so I figured it would be okay if I came a bit...” your words trailed off. You blinked rapidly in an attempt to process the scene unfolding before you. Katsuki Bakugou, holding his dick in his hand, face on fire with a deep blush, his other free hand secure around his phone with- was that a picture of you from your freshman year of college? There was a beat of silence, Katsuki’s uneven breathing the only sound in the room aside from the low drawl of the ceiling fan over both of your heads. You gaped at him, tongue darting out to wet your lips upon realizing his hand hadn’t stopped moving. If anything, you saw his hand flex around his cock, further tightening his grip as you stood right in front of him.
“What the fuck-”
“What?” he beat you to the punch, his lips twitching into a devilish smile, “Don’t like what you see?” His confidence knocked the air out of you, your bewildered attitude showing true on your features. Your body feels warm, searing beneath his gaze. “Excuse me?” you squeaked out, overcome with both curiosity and a hint of lust for the ash blond.
“Are you gonna fucking help me or not?” His pride was refusing him to be flustered, not when he was this feverish for you. He needed the upper hand, he needed control over this situation. And it seemed by how you were shifting your weight from side to side, that it was happening just as he wanted. Who were you to refuse such an offer from Katsuki Bakugou?
And that’s how you ended up here, nestled between thick, muscled thighs with your hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. He had you spit over his dick, his entire shaft gleaming in all its glory as it stood to attention in your grasp. The flash of his camera burned your eyes as you suckled on his crown, hand continuously jerking his cock while he ravenously watched you through the screen. The guttural groan that escaped him was nothing short of music to your ears, your thighs tensing as the coils of heat continued to build and knot between your legs.
“Mm. Keep going like that, take it. All the way in now, like a good little slut,” Katsuki instructed, his voice slicing through the heavy atmosphere of desire. The words make you whimper, enveloping his sensitive head in vibrations while you lick around his slit. A large hand cupped your face, forcing you to make eye contact with the ash blond behind the camera. His black tank top truly had no confines over him, since it was tight enough to see the outlines of his pecs and ripped torso. Katsuki sure worked hard to maintain his appearance, but you knew he had the strength to back those muscles up. The thought of him completely dominating you, holding you with strong arms and pinning you down with his body made your pussy even more wet with your slick than it already was. Even from how you were on your knees, Katsuki possessed an unspoken will over you. You wanted to please him, make him feel good, make him have no good reason not to give you everything he had to offer.
You took your lips off of his head with a little ‘pop’, eyes wide and expectant as a string of drool connected your bottom lip to the tip of his cock. Bakugou’s smile grew, making sure your face was completely in frame and in focus. “Dirty girl,” he hummed, thumb tracing the apple of your cheek before guiding your lips toward his twitching cock. You slowly kissed the vein on the side of it, mumbling out four words:
“Your dirty girl, daddy.”
The moment the words left your mouth, Katsuki let out a low, gravelly moan. It was as if a switch inside him had flipped. Without warning, he’s pulling you off the floor and sitting you down in his desk chair instead. He’s a bit rough, his vision clouded by the sheer want to fuck you until you were screaming his name, until his name was the only word your pretty little brain could recall. He abandoned his phone and instead had his hands drop to the armrests of his desk chair, encasing your body as he towered over you. Your skirt was immediately shucked up your waist and Katsuki’s hands went to work on your panties. He ripped them off completely, tossing them aside without a care as to where they went. He gazed down at you with fervour, licking his lips at the sight of your dripping cunt.
“Who’s pussy is this?” he coaxes with a grin, teeth shining. His hand slipped between your thighs, his index and middle finger tracing up and down your slit. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, your thighs instinctively closing around his hand. Your face bloomed with warmth, eyes darting away from his cocky demeanour, “Baku—”
Your body jolted as a firm smack was delivered to your sensitive pussy, a wet, lewd sound meeting your ears as he did. It made a high pitched, whiny moan be pulled out from your throat.
Fuck.
“Try again,” he ordered, tone demanding and almost condescending. His lips ghosted yours yet he never had any intention of moving close enough to seal the gap between the two of you. You whimpered, eyes meeting the dark red irises that were staring straight through you.
“‘S yours, daddy.”
“Now that’s a good fuckin’ girl.”
His lips found yours, teeth tugging at your bottom lip hard enough to make the warmth in your stomach double. The liquid heat had been building ever since you walked in, and you were fairly certain that you weren’t going to last much longer.
He hooked your knees over his elbows, biceps flexing as the muscles in his arms supported your full weight. He picked you up with such ease, your arms flying around his neck as you squeal, gasping at how little effort that took him. He was a pro-hero in training, of course he had practiced lifting people up no matter their body type or size. Either way, it didn’t matter to him. He thought you looked rather angelic clinging onto him regardless. He wasn’t even breaking a sweat with his hands spreading your cheeks, grunting as he adjusted you in his arms. He slid slowly into your slick cunt inch by suffocating inch, your walls fluttering and enclosing around his throbbing cock. Katsuki’s breathing was unsteady, eyes watching your expression intently in hopes that this new position would give you as much pleasure as it was giving him. His ego was running rapant from how you were holding onto him for dear life. You were practically shaking in his grasp, mouth open in an ‘o’ shape as all you could do was gape at how deep he reaches within you. You were keening, eyes hazed with lust and nails digging crescents into his shoulder blades hard enough to make him hiss.
When you finally catch your breath and adjust to his size, you give him a curt nod as an indication for him to start moving. Slowly, he lifted you up off his cock until his head kissed your entrance before allowing gravity to do most of the work. This position had his cock nudging your cervix and it made the knot in the pit of your stomach squeeze further, threatening to snap with every loud smack of his balls echoing through his dorm room. He pistoned into you like that, reaching deeper to rearrange your insides. It was like your entire body was being engulfed with pleasure and fire. He took in your face, how it scrunched in pleasure, hair sticking to your face as you mumble out how much you want to cum, how much you need to cum.
“Fuckin’ tight just for daddy, hah?” he cooed to you, “You wanna cum all over my cock like a little slut? You were watching me from the door jerking off for you. Dirty fuckin’ girl. Who’s making you feel good? Say it. Spit it out.”
“You!” you moaned, your head feeling light from the way the veins on the side of his cock rubbed your walls, “You, daddy. Please let me cum. I w- wanna cum!”
“I can’t hear you,” Katsuki rumbled, eyes steeled before you unmoving and unwilling to give you permission just yet. “Please!” you begged, “I’m a dirty girl. I’m your dirty girl, daddy! Please let me cum!” You were too engrossed in your pleasure to have any semblance of shame. Katsuki grinned. That’s what he wanted to hear. He let out a tiny ‘tch’ before uttering out, “Then cum, slut.”
Without another word, you let out a final wanton moan, gushing around him as the liquid heat finally expels from your body. Your orgasm hits you in waves, your body quivering with each new sensation as you hold Katsuki’s cock within your cunt. Your nails leave angry red marks along Katsuki’s shoulders, ultimately sending him hurtling towards his own release.
Cum dripped down his twitching cock, your chest heaving as your legs feel like jelly. Tingles shot down your spine as Katsuki pumped rope after rope of his sticky cum well enough to paint your inner walls white. He helped you ride out your high, delivering harsh bitemarks to your neck to leave a mural of hickeys claiming you as his. The smile he gives you is cocky, prideful, and arrogant. He placed you back down on his desk chair, your thighs still going through the aftershocks of your high. Reaching for his phone, he tapped the app icon for his camera. He knelt down, chuckling as your fingers slid between your legs to spread your lower lips for him. His cum seeped out past your slit, leaking down to your puckered asshole.
“There we go. Aren’t you daddy’s good girl, hm?”
Tiredly, you nodded.
“‘M daddy’s good girl.”
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all works © eijishimas 2021. do not reuse, modify, or repost.
tags:
@lonleyweeb77 @cynthus-no @lonelyheart-cluband @smhhyung @stoopidnekobish @kiridarling @kirislilrock @baku-deku1 @hajisuu @damnitcrowley @foruthemoon @peaxhcringe @justanotheruselessextra @izukuuarchive @katsuki-kitten @shokoarashi sorry i couldn’t tag all of you!
want to be on the taglist? see here.
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burnedbyshoto · a year ago
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the bodyguard
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— Kirishima gets assigned to be the bodyguard to one of the worlds greatest idols: you. —
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pairing: bodyguard!kirishima eijirou x idol!reader
warnings: nsfw, 18+, brat taming, authority kink, spanking, blowjob, slapping, choking, brat taming, brat!reader, modern!au, no quirks, bodyguard!kirishima, idol!reader, PTSD portrayal, anxiety, war flashbacks, implied minor character death, drugging, alcohol consumption, size difference: kirishima is 2 feet taller than you, regardless of the reader’s original height. If you’re 6 ft congrats he’s 8 ft.
word count: 20,500
a/n: this is for the bnharem collab.... im so sorry, it’s 4:30 am and I have a plane to catch in 2 hours to get back to school. thank you jo for proofreading this for me because lol I am a mess. if the paragraph spacing did not work as I wish it does, please let me know so I can go in and edit in visible paragraph spacers!
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“I’ll be okay.”
The smell of dirt, sweat, and blood clung to the air.
The sun was setting, its blood-red shine illuminating against the destroyed earth, making the already bloodied soil even bloodier. 
There was no telling if the land was quiet, if the reason why the world's silence was because the world just for this moment had gone silent, or if the earlier explosions were still ringing in his ears.
Kirishima sat wounded, his back pressed to the wall, his eyes wide, breathing erratic. He can’t move, can’t bother picking up the gun that lays abandoned by his knee as warm, sticky liquid spills onto his clothed knees and continues to soak the fabric of his jeans.
What had he done?
What in the fucking world had he done?!
BOOM!
Kirishima stills, his eyes stilling on the floor and looking at the clear moisture. He doesn’t need to touch his face to know it’s a combination of both sweat and tears. 
His ears sing with white noise, the erratic beat of his heart, and his pained breathing.
“I’ll be okay,” the ghost taunts his mind.
But I’m not okay, Kirishima tries to speak, but knows with how his tongue is sitting like a thick dried sponge in his mouth, he won’t be able to speak. Pushing off the cold floor, flops onto his back, his arm flinging over his closed, shaken eyes until the ringing in his ear disappears into his alarm clock. 
05:30.
Kirishima lays there for a bit more, his chest still heaving heavily with the weight of lead.
Inhale.
Hold.
Exhale.
Better?
No, not yet.
Kirishima runs through breathing exercises, his chest never stopping in it’s hiccuped, broken pants as his memories continue to haunt his mind. If only he was smarter, more observant, better.
“Time to get up, time to get up, time to get up,” his phone screams with his second alarm set at 06:45. The sound does what it’s intended, jolting Kirishima out of his own head. His labored breathing shallowing just enough for his lungs to finally grasp ahold of its required function.
Today was an important day for him; he needed to be on his tiptop game, according to what Toshinori said yesterday.
I’m okay, he convinced himself as he does every morning after having this dream. Kirishima flings his arm off his eyes, the morning purple sun shining softly through his blinds. I’m okay.
Date: 4/2 Time: 08:00 Location: UA Services
“And in other news, music industries princess Y/n has been attacked by yet another round of masked perpetrators. Fortunately for the music idol, she was left unhurt but was clearly rattled. This is but the fourth attack on Y/n since three weeks ago. It’s leaving many of us fans, spectators, and civilians wondering just what is being done to ensure her safety? Y/n is reported to not have a single bodyguard to her name, wanting to quote-on-quote ‘experience her fans to the fullest’, but with these recent attacks, we can’t help but hope something is done. At least until something is done about these attackers—”
Kirishima’s eyes tore away from the screen, his lips pressed into a deep frown as he took in the story. There was deep worry about it, not only because he hated the idea of people getting hurt, but because he was a big fan of yours.
Your debut album had come out during his training camp for the military. Not only was it an instant billboard smasher breaking every standing record, but his commanding officers were obsessed with the album and played it continuously until they graduated. Most of Kirishima’s comrades came to dislike your music solely because they remember throwing up, bleeding, and suffering while you sang about love and whatnot, but Kirishima? Kirishima fell in love.
It was a bright spot in his life, and he was grateful for your music, even if it has been ten years and six albums since the training camp.
“Yo, Kiri!” a voice cheered out happily as a hand clasped onto his shoulder from behind. Kirishima held the flinch that threatened to rip through his bones. Kirishima turned to find Kaminari grinning up at him, a cup of steaming tea in one hand as he grinned brightly at his coworker. “I heard you’re finally getting a good case today!”
Kirishima found himself relaxing at the sight of his rather spontaneous friend, a warm smile easing onto his face as he raised his fist for a greeting fist bump.
“We’ll see, I know Toshi’ said it was going to be important, but he also said escorting the paranoid old lady was important,” Kirishima sighed, his smile softening a bit.
Kaminari laughed, his arm slinging around Kirishima’s shoulders as he remembered that.
The little old lady was sure that the government was out to kill her and wanted protection until her son returned from his vacation. Needless to say, Kirishima had thoroughly enjoyed his time with her, even if she was a bit scary. It was a low-risk job, and he only was paranoid by her cane, which she used to thwack his back many times as she talked about how plums extended your life.
“God, I remember subbing in for you for one hour because of your family emergency, and she was so scary! She still haunts my nightmares!” Kaminari shudders, placing the cup of his tea to his lip and taking a long, slow drink. His eyes shift over to the TV, which is still broadcasting the story of your attack. “What a bunch of bastards,” he growls, eyebrows scrunching as the news reporter ends the segment. “Thinking they can go after such a beautiful and talented idol… I’ll kill them.”
Kirishima was more than well aware of Kaminari’s plentiful budding romances. The blond man fell in love with just about any smiling woman who happened to waltz in front of him. Still, unlike most times, he found himself agreeing with him.
“It sounds really serious. I hope that she really considers some type of security team,” Kirishima inputs too, taking the teacup in his fingers with a nod of thanks. “There’re too many weirdos in Japan and in the world, I wouldn’t want to hear the news the day something bad happens.”
Kaminari hums, his face nearing Kirishima’s as he takes a small sip of the apparently black tea. His eyes scrunch, and Kirishima smiles awkwardly as the blond studies him intently.
“W-Wha—”
“You like Y/n!” Kaminari exclaims (accuses, maybe?), his arm leaving Kirishima’s shoulders as he points a finger accusingly at him. “I thought I was the only one in this department who did!”
“Don’t be an idiot, Denki,” the familiar voice of Sero responds for Kirishima. “Everyone in the world is in love with Y/n; she was voted the favorite artist of the year in our company. Everyone but Bakugou voted for her if I remember correctly.”
Kirishima looks over at his black-haired friend who is rummaging through his locker, his mouth curved into an easy, teasing smile as he looks between the bashful Kaminari and sneering Bakugou, who also seemed to just walk in.
“Her shit is basic and overrated,” Bakugou defended himself. “Nothing special and bad for your brain and ears.”
“Your go-to music playlist is fifty percent death metal and alt. rock. I don’t think you have ground to say that it’s bad for your brain and ears,” Midoriya’s snicker sounded from behind Kirishima, and he looked around to see the freckled man grinning at the snarling ash blond.
“And how does your stalker ass know that, shitnerd?!”
“‘Cause I’m a stalker, duh.”
“Oh, Bakugou-kun, Midoriya-kun! You’re both here! Todoroki-kun is looking for you!”
“I’m just saying that Y/n’s dates to all the award shows and premieres have been blond. She’s into blonds, so she would totally be into me!”
“Deku, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to kill you myself.”
“You wouldn’t even be able to protect Y/n, bro. The only thing you performed well on in the application process was the tasing part. You can’t even tase people repetitively! She’d be dead in a second.”
“Can you believe my client dropped me because I couldn’t cook a five-star meal correctly? Hello, I can make 7-11 into a five-star course; it’s not my fault they’re not refined.”
“Kirishima-kun, are you okay?”
“I deadass got into a dance competition on the way to work. That’s why I’m late, why would I lie? Of course, I had to compete; my reputation was on the line!”
“Kirishima-kun?”
“Yo, he’s not looking too hot?”
“Kirishima?!”
“Can you hear us?!”
Silence.
Kirishima found himself opening his eyes — when had he closed them? For a moment, the air turned coppery, his body feeling weak, and he thought he felt something heavy on his lap. But that wasn’t right; he was standing up, he wasn’t sitting down. Most importantly, he was in Tokyo, Japan. He was alright. He was safe.
The sweat that clung to the back of his neck was cold, clammy, and intrusive. His chest felt tight again, his hands shaking so harshly the tea's warm, dark liquid was sloshing onto the floor.
There were seven pairs of eyes on him, each a different color, each swimming with concern and other emotions. Kirishima knew his ears weren’t working right now, his face unable to meet his brain's screaming demands to smile, and he watched as their mouths moved as they questioned his sanity.
He was okay.
He was okay.
He was okay.
“Kirishima?”
Kirishima looked up, his neck craning to the side to see a tall, skinny man standing at the doorway. 
Toshinori Yagi was an esteemed bodyguard, one of the best in the industry, which was saying something considering that most bodyguards went unknown and unnamed. According to Google, Toshinori gained the nickname All Might after saving multiple political and celebrity lives when the government could not. It was long after his prime, and the man had retired but has since filled as the company’s head — thus why this job was near impossible to get.
Kirishima heaved a breath, realizing that he hadn’t taken a single breath when Toshinori’s bruised eyes narrowed in his concern.
“C-Coming,” Kirishima smiled, the blood rushing to his ears mostly ignorable now, but the scorching concerned gazes of his friends feel like cinders on his shoulder.
He straightens his tie, fingers curling when he feels the cold sweat penetrating through his clothes, but Kirishima doesn’t let it show. Smiling like he does, Kirishima pushed through his friends and followed Toshinori out the door.
They walked down towards the conference rooms, rooms that held their contractors, in complete silence.
“This is an important case,” Toshinori began, his voice gentle and poorly hiding his concern. “I chose you because you are a great asset to have, Kirishima. You are strong and smart, and most importantly, are personable.”
Kirishima looked at the man, his face contorting with his anxiety. He didn’t want to be treated like glass.
“Honestly, you being so personable is why I chose you for this assignment. Todoroki-shounen was a contender at first, but he’s not much of a talker; the same goes for Bakugou-shounen. Midoriya-shounen was probably the best choice, but there’s a new assignment that asked for three, so I gave up those three,” Toshinori explained the current assignments. It both delighted Kirishima to hear that he could keep up with arguably the three most qualified workers here as it did, at times, make him feel lesser. 
“Oh.”
But he was obviously not the first choice still.
“The only reason why you weren’t the first choice is because of what I walked into just now,” Toshinori interrupts Kirishima’s thoughts and words. Kirishima finds his eyes tearing away from the smooth, polished wood floor to see Toshinori stopping in front of Conference Room A, his gaze intense on him. “To be frank, I wasn’t too sure if we should have hired you all that time ago. You are excellent on the field, your skills are phenomenal. Something to be proud of, truly, but you are clearly not completely healed from your time on the force.”
“Toshinori—”
“Kirishima-shonen, I’m not saying that there’s shame in your current struggles,” Toshinori once again interrupts, his hand a soothing warmth on Kirishima’s shoulder. “I’m still not healed from my past injuries, and as many people have undoubtedly told you, it’s okay to not be okay. But you barely passed the psych evaluation and only passed your field training because you scored so phenomenally on the other things your lack of a shooting score passed you.”
Kirishima felt unable to look away from the piercing blue eyes, and the lump in his throat never tasted as bitter, as sad.
He had barely passed the admittance test.
“I just need to know, are you ready to take on this assignment?” Toshinori asks in complete seriousness. “It’s a high stake, big-name client. We do not expect anything untoward to happen, but we never know in these cases. I think highly of you, Kirishima-shonen, and if you are ready to take this on, I’ll believe you, but likewise, if you’re not, I will gladly give this to someone else.”
Kirishima swallowed, his dry tongue passing through his equally dry lips.
Without question, he was not okay, not when he nearly broke down twice in a matter of hours, but it was just a bad day. He wasn’t as shaken as he was two months ago; he was going to his mandated therapy, talking to people who could assist him. Kirishima just didn’t want to be treated like glass anymore; he wasn’t glass; he was an unbreakable force.
Steeling over his nerves and ignoring how his stomach twisted and turned, Kirishima raised his gaze to Toshinori.
“I can do it.”
A smile.
“Good.”
If Kirishima was sweating because he was on a mental slip earlier, he was now sweating because he was beyond petrified and embarrassed. His hands raised up to brush against his red spikey hair, praying to God that it didn’t look dumb. His legs bounced at a speed that was bordering insanity, but he could only hear the sound of his racing heart as he stared at your frowning form from across the table.
It was you — the Y/n, the world's biggest music idol, an absolute legend in the making.
“This is our very own Kirishima Eijirou, age twenty-eight. He has been with U.A.Services for approximately six months now and is without a doubt one of our most capable and well-serviced men,” Toshinori began the introduction to the three people on the other side of the table. Kirishima could feel a blush rising up his neck and settling into his cheeks as what he presumed to be you, your manager, and your lawyer shuffling through paperwork that was very thorough on his background. “He was enlisted in the military before joining our ranks and was honorably discharged at the age of twenty-six as First Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou due to extreme injury. He excels in negotiating, scouting, and is, as you know, a skilled close combatant and was skilled in handguns—”
“I don’t think he’ll need firearms,” you interrupt, a frown on your face in contrast to the bright smile Kirishima was so used to seeing on your face. He tensed in worry.
“Y/l/n!” your manager, Sato Kimiko, scolded.
“What? It’s true! We’ll be around my fans for the majority, if not all the time! How is that right? For him to have a firearm around defenseless, and may I add, harmless individuals?!” you argued, your eyebrows scrunching in your fury.
Kirishima felt frozen in his chair, his eyes seeking Toshinori for guidance, but found himself unable to look away from you. He knew nearly everything about you, he could admit with a proud grin that he was a super mega fan of you, and he might have, at one point, looked your height up to imagine how you would appear beside him. Kirishima had known this entire time that you were two feet shorter than him, but it hadn’t hit what that meant until he was shaking your hand when he first entered.
You were tiny.
His dick and mind really liked that, and seeing your own passion spilling out for your fans was making him fall deeper into this hole he had for you.
“You don’t have a say anymore? Do you understand? You were nearly assaulted yesterday, and we are all done waiting around for something serious to happen!” Kimiko yelled, her face contorted into a look of both frustration and fear. “Either you take this, or we all leave you. I won’t have you murdered in front of me! You’re twenty-six now, stop acting like a damn brat and grow the hell up!”
The words scorched the table, blistering heat filling the conference room as you met Kimiko’s glare.
Kirishima watched with a dropped jaw as your nostrils flared, your lips pursing, and your eyebrows furrowing with unspoken distaste and anger.
“Six months tops.”
“Uh, yes,” Toshinori interjected. “Our contracts only last up to six months for new clients, but if you find yourself wanting to extend your contract after those six months, we are very much open to negotiations.”
You nodded your head, your eyes falling back onto the booklet in your hands that exposed all the information available on Kirishima. From his likes, dislikes, to his allergies and the reason why he was discharged. Each in disturbingly deep detail to make sure all things were up on the table.
“So, you can’t shoot your gun, Kirishima-san?” you speak, your voice tight, a pleased, almost taunting tone.
Kirishima stills, embarrassment bubbling in his chest as you drop the booklet onto the table, exposing his military history to him and you. 
“...no,” Kirishima answers truthfully.
The lawyer shifts from the other side of you, his eyebrows scrunching as he too comes across that piece of information. 
“He won’t use firearms?” the lawyer scoffs, his semi-permanent frown deepening. “How will we know that he will keep Y/n completely safe from any sort of danger that may come her way? We’ll be paying six months for a glorified security guard? We want a bodyguard.”
“And we clearly have one,” you snap back, your eyes narrowing. “If my bodyguard isn’t Kirishima-san, I’m not getting one. I mean, isn’t that what you said earlier?”
“When we were assuming that the person Toshinori was assigning to your case was a well-rounded bodyguard. Not one that was still clearly haunted by his past.”
Fuck, that one hurt.
You scowled, your head tilting as you bared your teeth slightly, “And what? He managed to get into the best agency in all of Japan in spite of that. Sounds like he’s competent. I already told you I won’t take on a team, just one individual. I trust in Toshinori-san’s guidance and his choice in picking Kirishima-san. If you disagree, that’s too bad for you.”
“Y/n! Please stop this! You’re being ridiculous!” Kimiko huffed, slamming her own booklet down, her eyes drowning with her exhaustion. “I’m so sorry, Toshinori-san, Kirishima-san.”
“H-Hey, it’s okay!” Kirishima immediately imputed, his hands raising in a sign of retreat. “I know that Y/n has always enjoyed her independence as a solo star, and how me being involved now is imposing, especially after multiple attacks.”
Kirishima felt that his smile was a bit strained, a bit too forced, especially as your eyes hawked onto him. He felt like you were examining him, like a lab rat going through its initial trial and not knowing just what was to be expected.
“Six months?” you spoke, your gaze not leaving Kirishima’s own.
“Six months,” Kirishima agreed.
You hum, your head nodding. “Fine, six months tops unless the Lieutenant Colonel can apprehend these assholes faster.”
It had been ages since Kirishima had been called by his title, and for some reason, he found himself blushing. His mouth, for the first time this entire meeting, curled into a wolfish grin.
“You got it.”
The lawyer groaned, entirely aggravated and insulted. He stood up, “You’re asking to be murdered, Y/n. Don’t come haunting me when you end up dead and mutilated. You deserve all the shit you’re getting.”
Kirishima watched with his lips parted in a bewildered expression as the lawyer walked out of the room with a loud slam of the door.
You were unfazed, and Kimiko groaned, exhausted and embarrassed as she mumbled a weak, sullen, “I am so, so sorry, Toshinori-kun.”
“Ah, Kimiko-chan, it’s okay!” Toshinori shook his head and smiled knowingly. It wasn’t as if the long time famous bodyguard hadn’t seen his fair share of childish fights between clients. “Thank you for coming as always, and we’ll do our best to make sure that Y/n is in the best of hands.”
“Thank you… and so, the rest of the contract?”
“Ah, yes, let’s continue.”
So, the contract was discussed to full detail.
For six months, Kirishima would be attached to your side. He must always remain at most three meters away from you when there is no one around, and during fan interactions no more than one meter. He had a full say about your safety. If things got rough, you were to follow his every command. Your agency would pay for his room and lodging. He was to wear black pants and a black long-sleeved cotton tee. He would be working with every venue, every hotel, every conventions security team. He would lead them and never leave your side. He was to be awake an hour before you, rest when you were asleep so long as it was safe to do so. He was your guardian angel of sorts, and you would do nothing but adhere to him. 
Most importantly, according to Kimiko, there was one thing they were hoping for: Kirishima's help and discretion. For the next six months, they would be relying on Kirishima’s support to figure out who the group behind the assault was and who the mastermind was behind it all is.
Or so the contract said.
“Y/n!” Kirishima called when the papers were signed, and the day he was set to start was printed. He will begin tomorrow. “Wait!”
You stopped at the door, Kimiko and Toshinori chatting merrily between them as they exited the conference room, Toshinori’s booming voice asking if it was true that Kimiko was attending to a near forty clients to which she bashfully admitted to. You were dressed in a creme knit long-sleeved shirt, faded ripped jeans, and a pair of nude heels. The heels were big, undoubtedly giving you inches, but you still barely got to his shoulder.
“I-I’m looking forward to looking — I mean working with you!”
You looked at him closely, your eyes dragging to the top of his toes to the tallest spike in his hair before your lips pulled into a contemplative pout. You looked back to his eyes, and you steeled over, your head tilting to the side.
“I mean no offense, Sergeant, I thank you for doing your job, but I have no intention of looking forward to working with you. I don’t want you here, so do your best to ignore the contract and realize that I am the most important person, so you will follow my demands.”
Kirishima can do nothing but stare as you turn on your heel and leave.
Well, so much for a good case.
Date: 5/2 Time: 14:00 Location: Tokyo Music Stadium
If you would have told Kirishima Eijirou that he had been working for the grand, the perfect, the fantastic music idol Y/n for a month now, two months ago, he would have laughed so hard he’d cry. Not only would he have not believed it, but he would only think of a million and two scenarios where he would go the entire day flirting.
Now a month into knowing you, of being your bodyguard on a contract for six months, Kirishima could say that of that entire thought, the only thing he had been right about was that he was, in fact, crying. Not only has he never managed to speak an entire conversation with you despite being attached to your hip seven days a week, but despite your much shorter stature, you had managed to get away from him.
You always managed to sneak away from him.
Kirishima could admit that the no more than five meters rule had been wholly and utterly demolished.
And now, Kirishima was crying, not out of joy, but of pure manly fear as he raced through the backstages of the stadium, desperate to find your short-ass anywhere.
“Go, Kirishima!” someone yelled as Kirishima whizzed past him, “Find Y/n!”
“T-Thank you!” Kirishima screamed as he continued onward, the yellow-lit concrete hallway seemingly haunting the further he went into it. The earpiece in his left ear shrilled, the telling sign he was getting a call. Putting a finger to the circle in his ear, he answered the car. “Hello?!”
“Ah, Kirishima-san!” Kimiko’s voice chirped on the other side of the line. “Wonderful to hear your voice again! I’m calling to let you know that the tour bus is parked outside of the venue now. The concert was a smashing success, and she’s come out unharmed for the past month! To make matters even better, since your arrival, there have been no more assault attempts! Oh, um, sorry, where are you guys?”
“We’re just, um!” Kirishima tried not to pant into the microphone; he was still racing ahead, his head peeking into every door and room he passed. “Y/n needed to use the restroom?!”
“Oh, wonderful. Okay! Let me know when you two are on your way over!”
“Ya, okay, bye!”
“By—”
Kirishima hung up as he crashed through the doors at the end of the hallway.
It was night out right now, the full moon reflecting down on the dirty concrete with the same intensity as the streetlamps overhead. And in the middle of a crowd of around twenty people was the person Kirishima was trying to find: you.
You were still dressed in the final costume change of your concert. Even from a distance, Kirishima could see the glitter and highlight on the tip of your nose and the curve of your cheekbones. The crowd around you was clearly not hostile. Each face was bright with broad smiles and sparkling with fresh tears, each voice high and pitchy as if they were talking with some goddess and not you. 
There was a slight longing in Kirishima’s chest at the sight of you interacting with your fans, your smile was so beautiful, and he wished just for a moment that he was the one that it was directed towards. If he had met you as a fan, and only a fan, he wonders if you would look at him as you did the others. Would he see the pure joy in the depths in your eyes, the love, wonder, and pride as they asked you questions and answered your own?
He wanted to be just a fan.
“Y/n, the tour bus is here,” Kirishima finally found his voice, the tenor of his voice spreading through the narrow alleyway. “Say your goodbyes.”
He had to ignore the way you stiffened immediately, the unsolicited joy in your face breaking and becoming bleak as you met his gaze. Kirishima absolutely did not feel pressure behind his eyes when you rolled your eyes and began to say your goodbyes; he did not!
The group of fans waved goodbye as you walked backward toward Kirishima; you didn’t stop waving and continuing your parting conversations with the group until the metal doors of the stadium doors closed behind the two of you. Kirishima let out a sigh, his eyes closing for a brief moment before looking down at you. You were expressionless, eyes cold as you looked dead ahead.
“You’re not supposed to run away like that.”
“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t tell me what to do, Sergeant.”
“You know I can’t do that it’s not—”
“Part of your contract. Yeah, I know, but that’s your contract, not mine.”
“Oh, okay. Um, Kimiko? ...yeah, we’re heading out now. Five minutes, till.”
And then there’s only silence.
Neither Kirishima nor you bother talking the entire walk towards the tour bus, and you ignore Kimiko’s call that your lawyer would be meeting briefly before tomorrow's fan signing event. You walk into the bus and go directly to the beds, throwing yourself into the terribly padded bunk and passing out without so much as a sound.
Kirishima sinks into his own bed, it’s too small for him, but there’s nothing he can do about it. Sleep overcomes him easily these days; he’s always way too exhausted in chasing you down like some spoiled toddler you’re behaving like to dream. But that’s okay, he thinks as the comfort of sleep begins to dig its skeleton fingers into his side, at least the exhaustion stops the night terrors.
Date: 5/3 Time: 10:00 Location: Tokyo Music Tower
Now, Kirishima knew that it was a common belief and a nearly proven theory that when you met your idols, you should never ever have your expectations high on who they are as a person. Celebrities were out of touch, cruel, rude, nearly jaded. They weren’t exactly the common folk. With people willing to forget things like them being human beings themselves or the common thread of celebrities being too rich to care, any type of famous person was cold, rude, and ruthless.
He knew that.
He also knew that you weren’t like the nearly proven theory.
You were kind, sweet, a practical angel to anyone who dared to approach you. You were the exception to the rule, an outlier to them all. You spoke politely to all your fans, domestic and foreign, and you treated each fan like the most special person in the world.
You were a good person.
But Kirishima knew, just as you reacted to any cruel person you encountered, you had an edge. Your words were as vicious as your name was known. He genuinely enjoyed watching you put assholes into place, but he sulked, knowing he was always at the receiving end of the sharp, bitter tongue of yours.
For a month and a day now, he had been the number target of your bitter words and scorching hate, but he admitted that he enjoyed it when it wasn’t directed at him, if but a little bit.
“I’m not renegotiating my contract!” you groan, your palms slamming into the depths of your eyes. “I already told you that I don’t need all that money!”
“And I’m telling you that you need to increase the wages that you pay the rest of your team instead of all those charities or else people will begin dropping you!” the lawyer countered with similar fire, his scowl angry enough that Kirishima felt like he had to tear his gaze away from this horrible battle. “You won’t be the best of the best forever, y/n, get over your stupid savior act and look over the changes!”
Kirishima looked over at you, his eyebrows pinching as he watched you fold your arms, your cheeks pushed out to a puff as you looked at the stack of papers with the title page fully covered with the word Contract of Y/n and Co. on it. Well, it seemed that the rumor of you spending your paycheck on things that weren’t you was right, how entirely manly.
“Oh fuck off,” you growl, pushing out of the chair and storming away.
Kirishima glanced over at Kimiko, who was looking pale and exhausted, undoubtedly exhausted from the past thirty-minute battle between the lawyer and the idol that neither made a single step forward nor a step back. How you had the energy to fight so passionately was beyond him. Kimiko nodded minimally, her lips parting in a sigh as Kirishima stood up and followed after her.
“The only way that brat is going to listen is by force,” the lawyer sneered, his voice fading into the room that Kirishima exited. “If that’s how she wants to play, so be it.”
Fortunately for Kirishima, he catches up to you. There are tears of fury dripping down your cheeks, and he feels unable to speak as he discovers a new layer to you.
...how interesting.
“It’s my money,” you speak, but Kirishima is unsure if those words are meant for him or for the void, the earth that you would much rather converse with than him. “I already pay them all a much greater paycheck than they should be getting considering their client pool. Why do I have to bend to their stupid will when I’m the one making the money.”
Kirishima blinks, wondering just what people might want to raise with their contracts. But, he knew you were right. By her account, Kimiko had a client list of many successful individuals, and he may not know anything about the lawyer, but if he worked with Y/n, his name must be good. Guess they weren’t like you.
“People are selfish assholes,” was the only thing that Kirishima could think of, and was something he spoke before he could stop himself.
But you stop in your storm, the anger that clouded you somewhat dissipating, clearing just enough for you to turn to him, your sharp, beautiful eyes for the first time filled with rage that was not pointed at him, and an emotion that made him think of… amusement?
“Yeah,” you agree, a half-smile cracking onto your face, and Kirishima feels his soul begin leaving his very body. “People are selfish assholes, huh?”
“Very much.”
There’s a calm, a snorted chuckle, and Kirishima finds himself stumbling further into the abyss of his feelings for you.
The next ten hours seem to pass in a blur, Kirishima feeling like he was on Cloud Nine as he stood behind you, three meters as he watched fan after fan approach you. Signatures were made, pictures were taken, and Kirishima found that he never once had to approach.
Maybe, he thinks, just perhaps, the two of you can overcome this.
Ten minutes after the official signing is done, Kirishima can’t find you, and he curses loudly into the echoing floor.
So much for change.
Date: 5/17 Time: 23:00 Location: The Parking Lot - Mt. Lady Studios
Kirishima was, for the lack of better words, completely fucking done with you.
Don’t get it wrong, he still was a complete and massive fan of yours. He would never once betray his loyalty to you and your musical career, but he was slowly starting to realize just why the lawyer was set to dying of a heart attack any time soon. Despite your early entrance to stardom and the stuff of legends, you had kept your fiery, stubborn individualism.
Kirishima thought it was absolutely hot and sexy at times, especially the times where you strut around in revealing clothes because ‘this is your body,’ or the lingerie campaign you completed two days ago as part of some fundraising event. There were significant perks to your strong handle and claim to keeping your indestructible personality, but it came back to rub them all back in the worst of ways when once again, you escaped from Kirishima’s side.
To be fair, most of the time, Kirishima was a very level headed individual; he was near impossible to rile up despite popular initial belief. I mean, he was good friends with Bakugou Katsuki, who riled up just about anyone he talked to! He needed to have steel calm emotions, or at the very least portray that he does. But even the unbreakable after tireless attempts can, at times, be broken.
It had been a hard morning.
Kirishima had woken up in a panic, the sweat of his night terror soaking through the sheets of his bed, and his head felt like lead. They had been in the tour bus for the entire day because you were going from the tip of Japan to the bottom of it, thus meaning that you couldn’t run away from him, concluding that when he went to bed that night, he was merely tired, not exhausted.
“K...Kiri...shima?” the voice whispered in his ears when he bolted from his bed and tumbled to the ground, his chest heaving in his panic as he cried.
He only slept for four hours that night, the ghost of his comrade haunting him too much for him to ever drift back to sleep. The only thing he was grateful for when he stumbled down to the hotel lobby for breakfast was that he had an attack while in his own room and not in a tour bus with ten others.
But the lack of sleep and the twisting of his guts from his still unburied memories meant that his exhaustion was dialed up larger than he thought was capable. Today was an interview day plus a miniconcert at said interview.
That meant that for an hour before your interview and two hours afterward, Kirishima lost you and had to hunt you down. You weren’t making it easy on him and had started moving with the crowd you gathered to evade him.
But today, Kirishima was exhausted.
Today, Kirishima wanted to sleep.
Today… Kirishima broke.
“Let’s go,” Kirishima spoke in a low, commanding voice. His eyes were hooded as he looked down at you, the crowd of fans parting like the red sea as he stands behind you, larger than life, imposing.
You ignore him.
“We’re leaving, now.”
“Aw, did you make that just for me?! This beading is gorgeous!”
To be fair, Kirishima isn’t really sure if he’s crying right now or if steam is protruding from his ears like some stupid cartoon. The only thing he knows is that it's been a bit longer than a month, and his client is the most perfect person in the world except to him and some lawyer. All he knows is that he has been continuously mocked, shamed, and disrespected by his client, and at this moment, with his mind and body aching with the memories of the morning, he can no longer stop the tsunami of emotions and thoughts that shove out of him.
He grabs your wrist and begins pulling you away.
“We’re leaving now, sorry to disrupt your time. Come see Y/n another day.”
Kirishima isn’t even aware of your screams, the banging of your small fist against his back as his hand encompasses your bicep easily. He walks and walks and walks until he stops, his mind slightly put back into place.
“—FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?! LET GO OF ME, SERGEANT!”
Oh, right.
He lets go of you immediately and nearly snorts at how you stumble into his back. So small, so delicate, and so completely weak.
“You want to know my problem, y/l/n?” he asks, voice eerily calm, much calmer than he actually is. “My fucking problem is that I signed onto this case with a single rule: keep you in sight and protect you. It’s simple, almost too easy, isn’t it? But easy and simple is everything that this assignment is!”
Your face contorted into a flash of anger and embarrassment, your nose scrunching as you found your footing, “And I told you that I don’t give a crap about that contract! I didn’t want it in the first place, but no one listens to me!”
Kirishima snorts, his body shifting so that he can look at you properly; your face is seething, your teeth bared and eyes wild, but Kirishima has faced worse.
“It’s not in my contract to listen to you, unfortunately,” Kirishima points out, his eyes narrowing. “I would have a better time listening to you, trying to find an agreement that worked if you used that brain of yours and figured out a way to compromise with me.”
“Compromises aren’t—”
“You think I wouldn’t?” Kirishima almost whines, his voice tight with emotions, fingers fisting in his hair, “You really fucking think that after a month and how many days of me spending stupid hours trying to find your ass, most of the time never knowing if you’re dead or not, I wouldn’t want a better solution?!”
“Like hell they’ll kill me! And if they do, I don’t fucking care!” you stubbornly insist, finger buried against the swell of your chest.
“Oh my god,” Kirishima can’t stop the bitter laugh from escaping, “you’re ridiculous.”
“I’m ridiculous?! I’m not the ridiculous one here!” you cry, your eyes bursting with unshed, bitter tears. “So what that I run away from you? Can you imagine living the past ten years of your life trying to be something that the media wants you to be? No! You can’t, Sergeant! Those times where I’m running away isn’t to be some dick, but to give me time to be me!”
“You’re a goddamn idiot!” Kirishima barks, his anger curdling in his chest like a raging fire. “If you had looked at my damn file correctly, instead of focusing on the stupid shit like me not being able to fire my gun correctly, you would be more than aware of the fact that you are one of my favorite artists!”
“Wh-”
“I am one of the best in my company! I am easy to get along with, personal, manageable, flexible even, but from the very first moment you laid eyes on me, you’ve hated me! You talk down on me, you shit on me, my job, the reason I’m here! Listen, I would fucking love to be anywhere but here right now. I have literally never hated my job before, but you just made that a reality. But the worst part of this all is the fact that you seem to think I would have kept you away, prohibited you from doing things that I already know you love! You stand there and tell me that I would try to force you to do shit you don’t want when I have merely been asking for you to take me there with you! I don’t care if I have to stand away and watch, but I want to be there! I’m supposed to be protecting you, but you’re being nothing more than a stubborn brat who refuses to see the efforts I’m trying to make, and frankly, I’m done.”
Kirishima’s chest is burning with the lack of oxygen, his eyes narrowed and filled with raging fire as he stares down at you, his neck craned so that he could be closer, more daunting, intimidating.
“Fuck o-off,” you snap suddenly, a lone tear, your voice tight and shoulders tense as you storm off.
“So predictable,” Kirishima calls after you, but it’s not filled with the previous anger he had but the sinking misery and regret.
And for a moment, it’s quiet.
Until a single name is screamed.
“SERGEANT!”
And then the all too familiar sound of a fist colliding with skin.
The anger in Kirishima’s blood evaporates immediately, and horror sinks in as he turns towards where you had stormed off. Oh no, oh no, oh no.
The parking lot is filled with an ugly yellow light that seems to set the stage for what was to come down. His footsteps crashing down against the black pavement were mute in his ears, and his eyes were focused on your limp body slung over somebody's shoulder. There was one person behind him, the other one already hopping into a van; Kirishima was the devil on their heels.
“Come on! Let’s go!” the one in the van screamed, his voice full of gruff apprehension and fear.
The van turns on.
Kirishima grunts, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he sidesteps the man who was lingering behind the one carrying you and quickly slams his shoulder into the man's sternum, knocking him out the moment he collapses onto the ground. 
He lets out a roar of such, his eyes glowing with anger and a single mind track to take down the person who held you, ready to throw your unconscious body into the back of the van.
Kirishima doesn’t even know when he manages to get to the man's side, one hand on his shoulder, the other on you, and with the strength and anger of a million fighting warriors, he ripped you from his hold and sent him stumbling into the trunk. Your shallow breathing brushes against his neck, and Kirishima is hyper-aware of the cursing men who chose to abandon their unconscious comrade on the floor. 
With his arms filled by your unconscious body, Kirishima can only watch the van scurry out of the lot, the license plate immediately burning into his mind.
T082-23
When the man on the floor finally wakes up, he’s in police custody, and you’re just waking up. There's a bruise on your cheek, and you begin crying immediately.
Kirishima watches from the distance, his heart aching and guilt climbing up his throat as he watches Kimiko hold you close, her arms warm and tight.
Well, shit.
So much for the month of no attacks.
Kirishima sits in a waiting room, his head relaxed against the wall as he waits for your discharge from the hospital. They suspect a concussion, and they’re running some tests right now. The police are there too, trying to get information from you on the failed kidnapping attempt as well as beginning the initial trials of interrogation of the abandoned kidnapper with a broken sternum, ruptured spleen, and three cracked ribs.
He was not surprised when the police officers came to talk to him, and he gave them the license plate.
But they also gave him an essential piece of information.
(“Well, when we asked for a motive, it seemed that it wasn’t his idea,” the detective admitted, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “His boss said that, and I quote, Y/n will end up dead and mutilated as is deserved. She deserves all the shit she has coming her way, end quote. Any ideas of who it could be”
Kirishima rubbed a hand across his face, the words striking a bit too familiarly to him, but from where. He shook his head, his eyes focusing on his bouncing knee.
“Thank you,” Kirishima said, his tone pointed in a clear indicator that this conversation was now over. The detective nodded, his frown slight as he left. The moment he was gone, Kirishima pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “Kimiko? Yeah, I think we might have our first suspect.”)
For now, he was waiting for you.
An hour passed before you shuffled into the waiting room. There was a bandage on your swollen cheek, but besides the obvious attack, your eyes looked strong, and it seemed like there was no concussion.
“I should be fine,” you speak first, your jaw tensing as if it physically pained you to speak (whether it was because you hated talking to him or because of the injury, Kirishima had no idea). “I will be fine; I just need some sleep.”
Kirishima nodded, his body completely exhausted, and his mind filled with nothing but regrets on how he handled his anger earlier. He needed to apologize. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but he had definitely crossed a few too many lines.
“Should we go?”
You chewed on your lip, your eyes looking down at the white tiled floors of the hospital — so bleak, so anxiety driving.
“I actually wanted to talk before we left.”
Oh?
“Of what, if I may ask?”
Your eyes raise back up before looking away again, “the contract.”
Kirishima finds himself nodding, his hand gesturing towards the empty seat in front of him.
“Sure.”
And with a heaving sigh that sounds like you were on the verge of tears, you sit before him.
The contract was then discussed.
It was decided that you could continue to interact with fans as you wish, so long as you took Kirishima with you. He didn’t care about the long hours, the manic fans, or the impending doom of a group of people who meant business. He needed to be there.
Everything else stayed the same, but Kirishima looked at you one last time that night in the hospital, his body leaning towards you as he did his best to keep his face void of emotion and any lingering teasing.
“I’ll only accept this new negotiation on one term.”
“W-What?!” you pause, thinking. “Fine, say it.”
“From here on out, I think we should be friends, yeah? I’m on your side, after all, it’s a bit weird if we stay just acquaintances.”
The tension and horror leave your body, and Kirishima, for the first time ever, bears witness to the most relaxed, meaningful smile he has ever seen you give. It had been one hell of a shitty night, but at that very moment when the seventh turned into the eighth, Kirishima felt a new warmth flood through his chest, his heart racing at the sight of your glorious smile.
“Of course, Kirishima.”
“Oh, and y/n?” 
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry about all that I said. It was unmanly of me and out of line.”
“It’s okay. To be fair, I was a bit of a self-absorbed brat, too.”
The next day, a picture of Kirishima holding you bridal style is trending.
Date: 6/12 Time: 19:00 Location: Hime Onsen
An Interview with Y/n | Vogue Japan 4.5 million views • Premiered 2 hours ago 874k [liked this] 12.3k [disliked this] Timestamp: 05:32 / 10:33
[Interviewer]: Now, Y/n, we must congratulate you on your latest achievement! Your latest self-titled album, ‘Y/N,’ has been nominated for a record high of twelve awards for the upcoming Japan Record Awards, which will be coming up in about a month! Tell us how you feel about this?
[You]: It was quite a surprise actually! I didn’t realize that it would have done so well in the critic's eyes to get this type of award. I am proud of myself and am excited to see all the other amazing artists and musicians who were nominated as well.
[Interviewer]: Now, your album is all about staying true to yourself, whether that be in love or war. It depicts your own highs and lows while also highlighting beautifully universal things many of us face. Without question, you have always been adamant on staying connected with your fans and keeping a simple rule: no bodyguards.
[Y/n]: Oh, (laughs) yes! That is definitely a new thing, huh?
[Interviewer]: A new thing and a beautiful thing at that, too! Look here!
[captioner notes: interviewer displays many photos of Y/n’s bodyguard, including the most famous one where he’s holding y/n after the failed kidnapped attempt]
[Interviewer]: This is a beautiful — don’t giggle! — a beautiful man, Y/n! What do you have to say for yourself?! Did you finally succumb to keeping untrue to yourself for this beautiful man?! If so, it is perfectly acceptable. By chance, is your contract with him done? I would personally love to have this man on my team.
[Y/n]: (laughing) By all means, take him! (Y/n looks behind her, her bodyguard is there) I’m kidding, I’m kidding! (pauses) No, actually, sorry. Kirishima is an outstanding bodyguard, and I have no intentions of leaving him so soon. Uh, while I did say I had no wish or intentions to have a bodyguard, obviously that was not the best solution, so I hired Kirishima. He is a wonderful addition to my team and still allows me to be authentically me, so it’s still all good.
[Interviewer]: Ah, okay, well, Kirishima-kun, if you ever need a new client, call me. But moving on, yes! Would you like to discuss the series of increasingly concerning attacks?
Kirishima stood in the softly lit hallways of a sauna.
Today was one of the last remaining days you had off, and in celebration of your upcoming award season, you had decided that it was mandatory to visit the hot springs. Everyone on your team — the backup dancers, band, and hair and makeup — were ecstatic to learn that they were being involved with it too.
This high-end resort had accommodated your entire team to receive their own private spring with an all-inclusive menu too. 
It was thanks from the owner for the free PR and, of course, because they were some of your biggest fans. So, in thanks, everyone got to enjoy the springs.
Well, everyone but Kirishima, that was.
As of the past month, things between Kirishima and you had improved a lot.
With Kirishima no longer needing to run a marathon daily to find where you were, he would find himself walking at your side. He no longer felt like you hated him. There was respect and actual friendship between the two of you. You joked with him, showed him memes and TikTok, sent him snapchat streaks, and invited him to watch weird shows with you. You even complained to him about the things that annoyed you, namely Kimiko’s attention being stolen by other clients and the rude conversations you would have with the lawyer.
It made Kirishima’s chest warm up knowing that you were friends now.
A stressful month had passed into a friendlier one.
But there were some things that Kirishima would not have expected to… arise.
Namely you growing to be comfortable enough to walk around with nothing but a thin pair of panties and a large shirt. You curling into his side whenever you watched a show together in the bus, the way your lips brushed against his neck when he leaned down to hug you, or the very so not obvious teasing you would do when you changed in front of him. It was as if you were watching his every reaction, enjoying the way that his eyes horribly tore away, or the silent hitch in his throat whenever you speed his heart up.
The biggest surprise arose the night after the failed kidnapping attempt:
You had come to his room, hours after you were supposed to have fallen asleep.
Your eyes were sunken, still a bit tired, and the bruise on your cheek was looking bad. In your arms was a white binder undoubtedly filled with the introductory packet you had received at your initial meeting. Kirishima had opened the door in his sleepy state in nothing but gym shorts. He had barely started dozing off, his mind wouldn’t stop thinking of what could have happened if you hadn’t managed to scream, and so he kept tossing and turning.
Seeing you outside of his room, his head dropped down to look at you properly, and his fist rubbing at his eye fell, “Y/n?”
“Did I wake you?” you asked, your face filled with a shocked, near uncomfortable, and embarrassed expression he doesn’t recall ever seeing on you. “I’m so sorry! I’ll wait until—”
“No,” Kirishima grunts while he shakes his head, his voice raspy and dry from his lack of use. “I’ve been tossing and turning, um, what is it? Do you want to come in?”
“I-If that’s okay?”
Kirishima breathes out a bit, his shoulders relaxing as he smiles softly, “Come on, let’s talk about what’s on your mind.”
The door clicked behind your tentative steps with an echo, and Kirishima watched as you walked into the hotel room with wariness and caution.
“Would you like some tea?” Kirishima offered, picking up a shirt from his dresser and pulling it over his body. The fabric was tight against his chest and shoulders, but felt more appropriate to wear around you.
“No, I’m okay,” you politely decline.
You stood in the center of the room, unsure of where to sit, stand, or lay.
“Go ahead and make the bed,” Kirishima offered, taking the chair by the desk. “I promise it’s still clean.”
You laugh slightly, smile strained but grateful as you sit at the edge of the bed, binder resting on your lap.
“Thanks, I wouldn’t want to sit on a dirty bed,” you joke, but it sounds weak to Kirishima’s ears.
“So, what questions do you have?”
“Hm?”
“You have my portfolio,” he shrugs, leaning forward so that his forearms rest on his knees. “I have a feeling you have some questions.”
“Oh, right,” you whisper, your eyebrows scrunching as you open the binder to the first page, but your eyes are focused on the desk. “What’s the medication for?”
Kirishima turns his head to follow your gaze and comes across the yellow tinted medicine containers.
“My PTSD,” Kirishima answers honestly, his voice soft with emotion, but there was no shame in it. “My service had a difficult end.”
“That’s actually… that’s what I came to talk about,” you rush, your hands slamming the binder closed. “If you don’t want to talk about it, obviously I won’t push it! God, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—”
“No, it’s okay,” Kirishima interrupted, his smile sad, but he stood up, his body a tower in front of yours as he urged you to sit back down. “It’s okay; I don’t mind talking about it.”
“B-But what if I say something that makes it all worse?”
A pause.
“Then I’ll tell you that it’s too much.”
A nod.
“Are you… are you still experiencing a lot of symptoms?” you ask, your fingers tightening and untightening around the binder.
“Some days are worse than others,” Kirishima admits, his shoulders shrugging. “I don’t experience much anxiety while in crowds anymore; I don’t have many flashbacks to those days anymore, not since February at least. I do still get… I still get night terrors and dream of that day. It’s nowhere near as bad as the first few months after the accident, but it’s still here.”
“What happened?” you asked after a bit, morbidly curious.
The file had all the details that proved Kirishima to be a master of firearms during his entire time on the force. He was a powerful combatist, and his ranking was a clear indicator of the respect and skills he had. Still, it was the quick honorable discharge, the near year-long hospitalization, and the current inability to use a firearm that concerned you.
What had happened?
“I was involved in a grenade explosion on my last day on tour. I was the only one who managed to survive the blast,” Kirishima easily stated, his voice quiet.
“Oh my god, I… holy shit, I’m so sorry.”
“Nah, it’s all good. There were only two others around, and one of them was already dead.”
“Was that um, Major—”
“We called him Crimson Riot, actually,” Kirishima smiled, a chuckle light on his tongue as he leaned back onto the chair, nodding. “Yeah, that was him.”
“Crimson Riot,” you repeat, nodding. “Did you watch him… watch him die?”
Kirishima presses his lips tightly together, and for a moment, you’re unsure if he’s going to cry, answer you, or tell you to leave. There’s a whirlwind of emotions on your optimistic and typically jubilant bodyguard despite your asshole tendencies that make your stomach twist.
“Yes,” Kirishima finally answers, and you nod.
It’s hours into the morning before you finally depart back to your room, the horrors of Kirishima’s past still pounding into your ears. Kirishima wouldn’t notice, and neither would you, but on his shirt and yours, there’s a few drops of tears the both of you shed when you said goodnight.
Sergeant Kirishima Eijirou, while on an active warzone, had accidentally struck and killed his superior officer, his friend, his role model Crimson Riot, thinking that he was nothing more than an enemy target as he sat wounded behind a wall. He died on his lap, and as someone came to help, a grenade landed two meters away before detonating.
“K...Kiri...shima?” Crimson Riot had whispered as he fell to his knees, blood gushing and seeping through his clothes, spilling onto Kirishima’s lap. “I’ll be okay.”
For whatever reason, since that night, Kirishima felt something in him shift. He still took his medication, still had his virtual therapy sessions when he could fit them in, and even had painful night terrors of that moment, but it was becoming less frequent.
He wasn’t made of glass.
There had been more instances after the kidnapping attempt, but unlike the last times, Kirishima was prepared. He had stopped each one, keeping you safe and sound. As of one week ago, he had officially been given a firearm to keep strapped to his thigh at all times now.
It was an unfamiliar weight, one that still twisted his stomach and made him nervous, but he knew the reason why it was needed. Since the gun had been added to his gear, the attacks stopped. He was definitely not ready to be firing it anytime soon, but it had deterred the attackers for the time being.
Kirishima paused when he heard his earpiece ring, and he dropped his phone where he had been watching your interview despite being there himself.
“Talk to me,” Kirishima answered, his finger pressing the accept button.
“Kirishima!” came the distressed voice of Kimiko, “We just got a tip!”
Kirishima stilled, his eyes scanning the empty hallways that stretched throughout the private hot springs.
“I don’t know, but a person with connections with this mastermind said something about how there were two more events he was staging. Today is one of them!”
Kirishima’s eyes widened, his lips parting to answer Kimiko when instead there was a large, loud crash in the water from inside your room. He assumed the worst.
“Y/n!” Kirishima shouted, hands throwing open the sliding door and racing through the storage room, the shower, and exited out into the hot spring.
Steam curled through the wind, the white wisps of steam feeling warm and light against Kirishima’s skin, and Kirishima panicked when he couldn’t see your shadow or figure in the hot springs.
“Where is she?! Is she alright?!” Kimiko panicked, her voice panicking already. “I’ll call the—”
Kirishima turned on his heel, ready to complete a full sweep of the outdoor hot spring when he crashed into something smaller than he was… smaller, softer, and definitely the shape of a woman. Kirishima felt his entire body stiffen when his rough palms felt the undeniable feeling of wet, warm skin.
“Oh my god,” he heard you shriek. “KIRISHIMA!”
“She’s all good, Kimiko,” Kirishima stifled out, his voice tight, his head slamming backward so that his eyes were concentrated on the starry night sky.
“...sorry… uh aha! Another client of mine is calling, goodbye!” Kimiko’s apology was meek and small before she hung up.
Kirishima’s mind was racing a mile a minute, but his body was frozen, unmoving like a rock when he realized that pressing to his stomach was, without a doubt, your breasts.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“What are you doing in here, pervert?!” you splutter, your hands pressing to his stomach as you step away. “Are you a pervert or something?!”
“I, no! No! Of course not! Fuck, shit, I’m so sorry! I’ll go! There was a tip that something was going to happen right now, and there was a crash and—”
“What are you looking at?” you exclaim, squeaky frustration heavy on your tongue. “There’s nothing wrong with the sky! Look me in the eyes? Have you never been to a co-ed hot spring before?!”
“Y-Yes, sorry!” Kirishima apologized, bowing slightly in apology before he peered down. Still, his face bursted in a flame as he watched the way your jaw dropped in disbelief, the dewy wetness of the hot spring clinging to your body. You were, obviously, soaked, and Kirishima bit his tongue as hard as he could to keep the whimper from expelling past his lips when he saw the light gleaming off your breasts. But he watched your face shift between a million emotions, each one appearing too fast for him to read, too fast to register, but he saw the way a single-arm wrap around your breast and the other shoving into his stomach.
“PERVERT!”
“What?!”
“That was a test! This is my private room! I have the right to not be willing to be looked at right now!” you shrieked as Kirishima spun around, allowing you the complete privacy of his gaze.
“You told me to look at you!” he squawked. “Y-You told me, and I listened because of our contract!”
Kirishima could feel his body trembling, his mind reeling in disbelief that he definitely saw you in your entire nakedness, and if the swirling heat in his stomach had anything to say about it, he liked it. Fuck.
There was a soft laugh and the sound of sloshing water as you probably (he wouldn’t know because he wasn’t looking) reentered the spring.
“I know, I was teasing,” you sing, and he can tell the water is gliding around your body. “Turn around, Kiri, let’s talk.”
“Haha, um, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Kirishima admits, although sitting in this steam-filled space with just you sounds so very nice. 
“Why not?” you asked, voice sounding a bit upset.
“I’m supposed to be outside, doing my job?”
“Augh, but these private springs are so boring alone,” your voice whines; the water sloshes, and Kirishima winces at the slight throb on his tongue as he continues to look at not your direction. “Turn around, Kiri.”
Not too long ago, you had taken to calling him Kiri, a subtle change, a not unusual nickname people gave him. But just because it was you, his stomach flipped and twisted, and now with the image of your tits in mind, his dick throbbed. 
Gulping, Kirishima turned, his gaze bashfully looking down at you before glancing away. You were chest-deep in the hot springs, tendrils of your wet hair sticking to your neck. Was he dead? Maybe dreaming?
No, his dreams were never like this.
“Do you want to come in?” you continued to ask, your body moving towards him in the water until you reached the edge of the pool, arms testing into the black rocks. “You’re the only one not in one, and since I hate being in these alone, I figured you’d like to join.”
Kirishima wanted to join. More than anything, he wanted to take his clothes off and jump into the springs with you, for you, but that would be unprofessional. Entirely and utterly unprofessional.
“Please?” you ask softly, pleadingly, and Kirishima makes the mistake of locking his gaze with yours. 
“...fine, but I’ll be on the other side of the spring,” he concedes, his steps near clumsy and oafish as he stumbles backward to the shower and closet.
“Such a gentleman pervert,” you tease, fingers curling as you wave at him until Kirishima finally closes the door behind him.
The empty room is nearly deafening in its silence and the future as Kirishima slumps against the sliding door, excited apprehension rippling through every cell of his skin as a smile spreads across his face. He walks to the storage room, and despite it being a private room, there were two closets. The closet not already occupying your clothes had the things needed for him, and thankfully, it fit. 
He undressed slowly, folding his clothes and placing them into the cubbies. Fully naked, he approached the showers, and under the lukewarm showerhead, he cleaned his body of any grime, dirt, and sweat. 
Feeling refreshed and clean, Kirishima began his descent to the hot spring, his heart hammering when his fingers grabbed the handle of the door.
“I’m coming in,” he announced, a healthy amount of fear, excitement, and heat drumming through him.
“I’ll keep my virgin eyes away from your body, don’t worry,” came your slow tease, and Kirishima snorted softly.
Kirishima stepped back out to the hot spring.
Just like the first time, the entrance to the spring was warm, the steam seeming thicker than last time, clouding the outdoor room and his sight. You were at the furthest out part of the pool, your back towards them as you worked your fingers through your scalp.
Discarding his slippers at the edge, Kirishima climbed into the pool.
The pool only went as far as his thigh, and he sank into the warm water. It felt wonderful on his body, relaxing his muscles just enough for him to wonder when was the last time he had managed to visit a hot spring.
“I’m in,” Kirishima said, his arms rising up out of the water, resting onto the black stone. “You can turn around now.”
“God, took you long enough,” you tease, your body twisting so that you were facing him again.
To Kirishima’s complete and utter surprise, you stilled, eyes dragging up and down his exposed chest, eyes locked on the series of tattoos all over his right pectoral, and trailed down his right arm. His lips felt dry as your eyes shifted back to his face, to his arm, and back to him. The smile on your face felt weak, but it sent a spiral of dizzying heat through Kirishima when he noticed the hushed lust.
For a while, the two of you remained at opposite ends of the hot spring. Eyes closed, hummed melodies passing through the song. You asked Kirishima about how he felt, if his medication was due for refills, if therapy was okay (he was doing better, a refill was due in two weeks, and therapy was going the same). He asked you about your relationship with Kimiko, with the lawyer, and if you had any real friends within the music industry (Kimiko was like an older cousin to you, the lawyer was a pain to deal with at times, and surprisingly, you did meet some genuine friends). You questioned how his friends were doing, if he had any contact with them despite their busy schedules. 
So Kirishima found himself retelling stories of his coworkers turned close friends. Each story he told left both of you with sore stomachs from laughter, and tears at the corner of your eyes from laughing too hard. 
“Was the tip story true?” you asked once the quiet overcame and grew old. You shift through the water, getting a bit closer to Kirishima.
Kirishima coughed, suddenly feeling a tad bit shy about his posture, but decided to keep from moving.
“You honestly think I would have barged into here just because I wanted to see you?”
Truthfully, had Kirishima been a man without morals, chivalry, or disrespect for you, he would have. Definitely would have.
“Let a girl dream,” you smile, like a luring siren as you wander closer by just a step. “It would go against everything I know about you, but it’s fun to tease.”
“You’re a bigger brat than I thought you would be,” Kirishima smiles back, trying his best to not show the way goosebumps were bursting against his skin, his eyes locked on yours, trying to not get distracted by the way your wet skin made his mind spin.
“I don’t think I’m a brat,” you counter, getting close enough that he could feel the currents of the water with your movement. But you were far enough that Kirishima felt like pointing out the fact you disregarded his keep apart rule would be a mistake. “How am I a brat?”
The sound of the water rippling through the springs along with the growing noises of the bugs began a melody around the two of you, and all Kirishima could do was stare at the way you blinked your eyes slowly — like a feline stalking a prey.
“A lot of ways, really,” Kirishima breathes, his heart rising up to his throat as he felt your hands gingerly place themselves on his knees.
“Yeah?” you ask, parting through his naked legs, and Kirishima felt his breathing stop when your exposed chest pressed against his. Your lips were ghosting so far from his but tantalizingly close enough that he felt drunk off your sweet breath. “And what are you going to do about it?”
Kirishima sucked in air, his arms resisting movement, and his eyes glanced down at the way your mouth was millimeters from his. His dick was very much interested in what he could do about it, and when your hands grazed up his thigh and onto his chest, Kirishima could feel something rumble in his chest.
He moved to eliminate the space, but there was a crash in the following spring, pushing you away from him long before he could claim your mouth.
“FUCK!” the person in the opposite spring screamed, and Kirishima’s eyes closed in his muted annoyance as you sighed.
His eyes dropped to the water, giving you the privacy to rise out of the water and make your way over to the wall.
“Jenny, are you okay?” you called.
“Give me a warning the next time you try fucking your hot bodyguard in the middle of a private onsen!”
“We weren’t fucking you prude!”
And with that, Kirishima took this as his embarrassed cue to leave.
He stood at the entrance of your private spring for about twenty minutes, entirely uncomfortable with the still hard dick in his pants, rubbing and chaffing against his jeans as he stood there. Eventually, you exited the hot spring, face glowing from the steam and eyes avoiding his gaze as you walked back to your room. Your robe was tight on your body, the hair on the nape of your neck pressed to your skin.
Kirishima sighed as he watched you enter your room, your smile short as you nodded a simple goodnight before letting the door slam shut behind you.
Rubbing his face, Kirishima listened to the voices in his intercom talk about how nothing had happened tonight. An attempted unwelcome visitor tried to get into your room, but they had stopped him. They didn’t fight, but they had run away the moment they caught on to the fact that they weren’t exactly authentic.
Kirishima sighed as he slumped into his room, collapsing on the too small bed as he found himself looking at the ceiling in deep concentration.
What was he going to do now?
That was undeniably sexual, his still semi-hard dick damning evidence to the known fact that he wanted you. By god did he want you. Wanted you beneath him, over him, splitting yourself down onto his cock while you gripped your arms and legs around him, fucking down onto his driving cock. 
Kirishima groaned low in his chest, guilt blooming in the back of his throat as his palm rubbed his pulsing cock.
Bad, Kirishima, bad.
“Kirishima-san?” a voice broke through his earpiece, and Kirishima nearly jumped out of his skin. “Are you there?”
“Hi Kimiko,” Kirishima sighed, his dick deflating instantly. “Everything all right?”
“Ah, yes! Sorry about earlier, the false tip and the sudden abandonment!” Kimiko embarrassingly apologized. “My client was ringing for the fourth time, and while I care deeply for y/n, I had to take it!”
“Mm, no worries, Kimiko,” Kirishima smiled politely despite the lack of visual contact. “How can I help you?”
“Ah, yes,” Kimiko asserted, her tone changing from apology to one of formality. “So, about the visitor incident I’m sure you were brought attention to, it seems that the vehicle they came in was with the driver's plate: T082-23. Does that sound familiar?”
“Not currently,” Kirishima sighed, his body stretching into a sitting up position. “Does it to you?”
“No…” Kimiko admitted, and Kirishima could feel the worried frown on her face. “Well, I just wanted to call and give you that information. It was passed along to me, and they mentioned they hadn’t told you. And since I was going to give you the schedule for the upcoming JRA’s award day, I figured I’d let you know!”
“No problem! Let’s go over the schedule now?”
“Yes! I have a client meeting in America right after this! Can you believe it? An American celebrity wants my help?!”
“That sounds amazing, Kimiko!”
“Okay, so this is how the day’s going to go!”
Date: 7/10 Time: 18:00 Location: Tokyo Hotel Room 101
Kirishima watched as an entire team was getting you dressed up.
Two people were doing your hair, three people doing your nails, one person doing your makeup, and five getting one of your three outfits for the night ready.
According to you, as you had strutted around in these outfits nearly two weeks ago were your red carpet and beginning of the award show outfit, your performance outfit, and of course, the after-party outfit. Each one was different, yet when adorned on your body was a perfect replica of who you were.
Most importantly, the two of you had decided to ignore every single instance of tremendous sexual energy and desire that basically leaked from both of your pores. It was for the best to ignore it. There was no point in pursuing it, especially when there was a known hunt for you, and Kirishima was the last line of defense between you and whoever it was.
Whoever it was, pfft.
Kirishima was willing to bet on who it was already.
Since the night of the initial kidnapping that finally closed the gap between you and Kirishima, there was something that the caught criminal said that stuck with him.
Everything you had coming your way, you deserved, he had said in bitter spite.
The interesting thing was that it was the lawyer who had said that, multiple times at that. The lawyer seemed to have everything to fuel him to rage against you. Everything you said or tried, the lawyer was on your heel, barking at you that it was wrong. Kirishima had also seen the contracts between you and the lawyer, and the amount that he was paid to be your attorney was not large at all.
The mass majority of the funds you earned were always funneled towards charities and organizations you trusted to help people in need — in fact, it was almost 80% of your total earnings. A meek, barely larger than 20% was split between you, your lawyer, Kimiko, your music crew, and any other unforeseen expenses. The lawyer was also in a situation where he was not in demand with clients, and if you weren’t heeding his expensive tag, he needed a new contract with you.
A contract he was always demanding to discuss with you that you denied to change.
Attacks tended to happen days after you and the lawyer tumbled, not enough to rouse suspicion if you weren’t looking, but Kirishima was. He just needed damning evidence now.
Something.
Anything.
And for some reason, his gut was screaming at him that something big was going to happen tonight, that tonight was going to be the last attack—the one to end everything.
So he had told everyone about it. Kimiko, the security at the JRA’s, even you. It made him nervous.
It made his hand sweat, the gun strapped to his thigh feeling like hot iron as he stood about as you laughed with your makeup crew.
Kirishima swore, promised, and vowed he would protect you.
He was going to.
And when the gold dress was tied to your body, fitting you beautifully, Kirishima found himself unable to look away like strands of your hair framed your temples.
“What do you think, Kiri? Will I be on the Best Dressed List?” you asked, tearing Kirishima’s attention away from the bodice and skirt of the dress. Your eyes were bright, hopeful, yearning for a positive reaction from him.
“How could you not be?” Kirishima admitted, his grin toothy, and he shifted against the wall.
“You’ll make me blush,” you grin back, eyes batting just a bit as you clasp your hands together. It takes everything in Kirishima to keep from striding across the space between the two of you and kissing you silly. “Are we ready to go?”
Kirishima wet his lips, unwillingly tearing his gaze from you, and whispers into the intercom.
“Ready to move out?”
“We’re all clear.”
Straightening back up, Kirishima smiled at you, his head motioning towards the door.
“Alright, y/n, let’s see you make some history?”
“Damn right I will.”
Kirishima smiled as he exited first, carving the path for you. 
Paparazzi were on you immediately, the lights flashing and terribly bright as he helped you through the throngs of them. His hand pressed to your back as they screamed demands, most of which you complied with until Kirishima stated that you would be late. You, unfortunately, couldn’t be late to the awards show.
Ushering you into the limousine, Kirishima follows in shortly after you, scrunching up in his seat as he sits opposite of you. However, your typical light and bright demeanor are gone; instead, you seem almost anxious as you open your handbag.
“You okay there?” Kirishima asks as he realizes you pulled out a distinctly obvious metal flask.
“Awards make me nervous,” you painfully admit; you're weakly smiling as you knock back a shot of the drink. “I hate winning and losing; the alcohol makes me less… of a wreck. Do you want some? I think it’s apple soju, I don’t know, a good luck gift from Kimiko.”
Kirishima grins, his eyes rolling as he decides to decline the drink. “Sorry, love, I think that I need to be completely sober for today.”
You scrunch your nose, obviously displeased, “Lame, who shows up to these awards sober?”
“Me,” Kirishima laughed, his head tilting back and scraping against the ceiling of the limousine. 
“Such a prude, sober, pervert,” you sigh, taking yet another swig before putting the flask back into your bag. 
“Such a brat.”
Just like every previous instance, your eyes seem to glow in glee at that name, your lips curling into a pleased smirk as you shrug. It's a sight that makes Kirishima’s mouth dry and heart racing. Fuck, he should not be thinking about fucking you in the limousine right now.
But before the heat in the limousine could simmer to one of undeniable boiling, you had arrived.
Kirishima cleared his throat, sending a quick wink your way as he exited the car first. The first stop was for him to join the lineup to guide you through all the different photo and interview sessions. No one wanted pictures of him emerging from the limo after all. 
There's a moment where after Kirishima closes the door, your eyes filled with worry and excitement as he winked goodbye, that things changed. He stood up, his eyes already scanning the area for anything suspicious, when he saw the all too familiar van.
T082-23.
His eyes widened, his head looking around for anyone else, but there was no one to help. No one could do anything as the car continued to drive away, disappearing from Kirishima’s line of sight. His heart hammered in his chest, and his hands instinctively went to his thigh. He had his firearm… he had it.
With nothing but a quick report to the head of security via his com, Kirishima pushed on ahead, waiting for your descent down the red carpet.
When you eventually emerged from the limousine, Kirishima found that at this moment, the entire world faded away as a gloved hand assisted you out of the vehicle. You were elegant, stunning, a realistic vibrant portrait within his world of greys. As you took photos for the cameras, he was by your side a few strides away as you talked to reporters.
You really came to life right now.
You were beautiful.
“For all the pain in the world that she is, she’s quite charming from a distance, huh?” a voice spoke to his side, and Kirishima froze. His eyes widened completely when he noticed that standing beside him was none other than the lawyer.
The lawyer was dressed in a nice suit, glasses perched on his nose, and for the first time Kirishima had seen, the scowl was not quite so hard.
He was here.
Every warning bell sounded in Kirishima’s head.
This was the man he was so sure was the reason behind your every attack. A man fueled by insufficient funding, a need for a new contract that would never be approved without your signature.
“What are you doing here?” Kirishima asked, subtlety never being something he was ever good with. “I’ve never seen you anywhere except to argue with Y/n about contracts. This doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to be discussing it.”
“Kimiko wanted me to give her a new contract proposal to give to y/n. However, to be fair, it’s quite easy for anything to come down to an argument with y/n,” he shrugs, and Kirishima watches a cloud of emotions pass between the man’s eyes. “At least between her and me, we’ve never gotten along, but I suppose that’s how it is for any type of family who works together.”
Wait.
“What?! Family member?!”
“Yes, I know it’s strange to believe. I am quite ugly, and she is not, but we’re family.”
Kirishima’s mind was racing now. It didn’t make sense. If he was family, why would he be in such pursuit of potentially murdering you? If you were family, he was sure that you would help out? If he needed a raise like he thought, wouldn’t you have helped?
There was no way you wouldn’t.
Was he wrong?
Who was it?
“Kiri!” your voice broke into his mind and tore him back to reality. You waved at him, then passed a stuck-out tongue to the lawyer in a teasing fashion. “Let’s go in?”
Kirishima looked over at the lawyer who greeted a woman, who was also walking down the red carpet, a celebrity he could name no less, with a warm kiss. 
Oh fuck.
He needed to call Kimiko; he was so very wrong.
You had won two awards so far, and at this very moment, Kirishima was being ushered back to his seat in the audience as you were being escorted to the main stage to perform your latest song. You had removed your gold dress for a black, sleek gown. Your lipstick changed to a dark red, and your hands trembled in the white lace gloves you wore.
“Oh, Kiri,” you wheezed almost, your hands shaking as the announcers on stage were announcing the last awards before your performance. “I’m getting nervous. What if I mess up or sing off-key? I’d be the laughing stock!”
Kirishima laughed gently, his hands easily encompassing your waist as he stilled your frantic moves. “Y/l/n y/n, if there is anything I know for sure about you is that you are one hell of a singer and a performer. The awards you’re nominated for tonight speak for themselves! You never fail at your performances, and even if you somehow manage to sing off-key, I’m sure that no one would notice! Your biggest fan in the world won’t notice, at least.”
Not more than seven days ago, when you had cried about the impending nerves of being an artist, Kirishima had come to claim the title of being your biggest fan in the world. It had made you chuckle through your tears before coming near a hysterical laugh as the two of you held each other close.
“You’re a nut, Kirishima Eijirou,” you laugh, hands resting on his lower ribs, but your smile was bright, warm. You paused a bit, fingers pulling at the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll sing just for you then, but I think I should take another swig of that soju.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Could you tell that Takeyama is completely drunk off her ass?”
“...she’s drunk?!”
“Exactly, I’ll be fine,” you breathe, taking a new smaller flask from the purse Kirishima was holding for you and taking the final swig. Your face contorts at the bitter liquid. “Ew, Kimiko really fucked me over with this one. Why is it blue?! Have you ever seen blue apple soju?!”
“No?” Kirishima startled, his eyes looking at the indeed splash of blue liquid tainting a small part of your gloves. “Who gave you that one? What happened with the other flask of yours?”
“Oh, Kimiko sent it along after I lost my other one; it’s her own flask,” you said before the backstage crew whisked you away to begin your set, and without you, Kirishima was sent to the audience.
Kirishima felt trapped as he was ushered into his seat, his eyes scanning the entire audience for something suspicious, a familiar face perhaps. His broad shoulders continued to bump into his neighbors, their disgruntled noises doing nothing to stop his worry.
“And now, Y/n,” came the strong voice of the male announcer, and the light dimmed.
Kirishima watched as the spotlight came down upon you, a golden halo of colors against your darkened gown as the instrumentals began to play in the background. And he saw you take a step forward, the building motifs suddenly silencing when you finally sang the first note.
Despite the panic arising in Kirishima, the unknown of who was behind it all, what was going to happen, he stilled at the unmatched strength and ambiance of your voice.
You sang as you did at every stage, to every audience.
There was a reason why you were considered a legend.
And then, with one last sound, one last melody, and your hand holding your microphone dropped. Your chest heaving, tears falling down your face, and the roar of the audience was silent. You looked through the audience, unable to see, but for some reason, you just knew where Kirishima was.
You smile.
But as the looming sounds begin to fill your ear again, you find that the world is hazy.
You swallow, eyes unfocused as you bowed, hurrying to leave the stage.
Kirishima watched as you took a final stumbling step off the stage, something he felt was going to be written off as you stepped on your dress. But his mind whirled.
The lawyer felt like a setup; the contracts made no sense, the blue soju.
How were they related?
What connected them?
“Oh, fuck,” Kirishima whispered, horrified, and immediately his finger pressed to his earpiece. “Find Y/n! Now!”
Kirishima was racing through the back of the venue, the announcers' voices still ringing through the dirty, bleak hallways. You had just won but was written off as being somewhere backstage; after all, the show must go on.
Voices screamed in his earpiece, each declining to have found you. No one had seen you after you stepped off the stage. No one knew who had taken you.
Kirishima noticed the doors closing at the end of the hallway, and with a dreading sense of doom, Kirishima removed the gun from his harness. And with the devil on his heels, he ran.
Kirishima panted as he looked before him.
You were passed out, draped limp, confused, and woozy against Kimiko’s body, and two men knocked unconscious beside them. To anyone else, it looked as if Kimiko had saved you, some guardian angel within this world, but if Kirishima’s gut meant anything, he knew better.
“Kirishima-san!’ Kimiko squeaked as Kirishima raised his gun, his body tense, unwilling to take a chance on her. “I don’t know what those two were doing! I was saving her, I swear!”
“Don’t do this, Kimiko,” Kirishima whispered, his head shaking. “I figured it out.”
There was a shift in Kimiko’s face at that; the scared unknowing hero melted into one of anger, resentment, one of someone who knew they had been outed.
“So, you figured it out,” she bitterly spoke, her arms that were supporting you from behind revealing to be a firearm of your own. “I didn’t expect you to.”
“I can’t say I figured out your reasoning; honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me, but I felt like it was you,” Kirishima carefully states, his heart roaring at the implied danger of the firearm against your chin. “Don’t do anything stupid, Kimiko.”
Kimiko stares, her lips forming a small o before changing into one of a large, near unattached grin.
“Anything stupid? If anyone is doing anything stupid, it's this selfish prick!” Kimiko spits, her arms tightening around you, making you whimper ever so gently in pain. “She thinks she’s so great, so rich, so smart! Just because she wastes most of her money on stupid shit like charity! Everyone thinks working for her is a dream, but they’re all blind idiots!”
Kirishima’s eyes widen as he notices the glazed, unfocused of your eyes as you shift your attention over to him. Were you listening?
“What’s wrong with the contract?” he asks, a small attempt to diffuse the situation.
“The fact she pays me next to nothing, and yet she works me half to death!”
“You have multiple clients, don’t you?” Kirishima splutters, unsure as to what was wrong. “Why is this one contract so important you wanted to frame her lawyer?!”
Kimiko laughs; it’s pitchy, almost hysterical as she bends over, your body slumping further onto the floor. “That was a lie! All a fucking lie! Do you know that I knew no one when I first started? Y/n is a name everyone wants. I don’t need to do anything to get her things! The world wants her! But the other clients? None of them stayed, none of them wanted me past a month! The salary was okay when she was a snot-nosed brat, but ten years later?! NO! She won’t fucking listen. She never fucking listens to anything but herself! So she has the option to give me the eighty percent, or fucking die here!”
Suddenly the gun in Kirishima’s hand feels like a ton, the skin on the back of his neck crawling and slicking with sweat.
“You know how much those charities mean to her,” Kirishima whispers. “She won’t do it.”
Kimiko trembles for a second, her arm holding the firearm lowering as she looks at the wall, shaking.
“Oh my god… you’re right,” Kimiko realizes, horror and uncertainty flashing across her face. “I guess… she has to die, oh my god, she has to die.”
At that moment, the world slowed down, and Kirishima swore he could see the atoms, the electricity flowing through the space between them. Kimiko’s arm holding the gun raising back up to your temple, her smile detached, horrific yet gleeful.
His body trembled as he doubted himself, his mind unsure if the finger on the trigger was going to be strong enough to fire away. Could he do it?
Was he ready?
Actually ready?
Save her, his past whispered.
Save her, his nightmares screamed.
Save her, his heart yelled.
Kirishima raised his arm, his focus blaring, his past just for a moment, forgotten.
BANG!
“The effects of the rohypnol have already worn out. Thankfully she wasn’t given a whole pill. If she experiences any nausea or throws up, please bring her back, should anything else happen, she’ll be okay.”
The words of the doctor rang in Kirishima’s ears. For tonight, they were going to be discharging you to him. Thankfully, it was all happening in Tokyo, so Kirishima’s apartment was near, and if Bakugou was true to his word, it was clean.
With the help of hospital security, he had managed to get your tuxedo concealed body into a car, and the two of you rode off to his apartment. You’ve been silent the entire time, eyes downcasted as you sit pressed to his side, feeling like a small child compared to him. You knew that he was much larger than you, a near two feet taller, but this felt unmatched. 
Kirishima’s jacket was warm around you, it’s sheer largeness another dress on your body, and despite the horrific turn of events, you were feeling warm. You couldn’t remember much of what transpired after stumbling off stage, but you did remember Kirishima bursting through the doors, a look of anger and fear blistering off his person in such a way that made you whimper when you remembered.
You remembered the onsen basically every night, cursing your stupid makeup team for interrupting a night that definitely would have ended with you fucking Kirishima. You cursed yourself for being a coward and not just saying fuck it and fucking him afterward despite the brief awkwardness.
He wanted you, it was clear as day, and you wanted him as well.
Tonight.
“Sorry about how small my apartment is, or if it’s messy, I don’t actually know if my friends have been keeping up with it,” Kirishima apologized, guiding you into the apartment by the small of your back. “You’ll be safe here tonight, and I promise we can get back to your own place tomorrow!”
“Oh, don’t apologize, it’s okay,” you smile, feeling flushed as you cross the entryway to the apartment. His apartment, despite not being home in so long, is clean. The halls aren’t messy, and a hint of lavender is saturated to the air. The dim hallway lights were barely bright enough to cause you to squint as it was dark out. “Thank you for having me tonight, especially after everything.”
At the hospital, you had been given a pair of sweats and a cotton t-shirt. The change in outfit from your event dress was definitely needed, and even though you were sure your makeup was streaked down your face, you felt good hidden in the depths of Kirishima’s jacket.
“Are you hungry?” Kirishima asked, handing over his guest slippers, which you gratefully accepted. “I might have some microwaveable food leftover.”
“Ramen doesn’t sound too bad,” you admit as Kirishima unbuttons the first few buttons on his white dress shirt. You were instantly captivated by the movement, your eyes shifting back to his face when he began to walk off towards the kitchen.
Kirishima talked warmly, keeping the conversation going merrily and bright throughout the entire time in the kitchen. He undoubtedly knew you weren’t entirely okay, and at moments like this, you were entirely grateful for his sweet personality. 
To be fair, you knew that you had been quite unfair to Kirishima in the beginning. Looking back at the first entire month of knowing him, you were horrified and impressed that Kirishima didn’t demand to be dropped. You had been selfish, stubborn, a bottom line brat, and he took it day after day. It wasn’t that you disliked him back then; hell, you had been in a near state of delirium when he entered the door during your first meeting because you had no idea such huge men existed to the caliber of his hotness.
But you resisted and might have been harsher than needed.
It was okay now; after all, if he was genuinely bitter about that entire month still, the onsen said otherwise.
It didn’t take long for your stomach to be filled with warm broth, soft boiled eggs, and ramen noodles. Kirishima did, in fact, have ramen, fresh eggs, and some vegetables. In a grand act of preparing you the most sufficient dinner he could, Kirishima presented this under budget ramen and laughed when you said it was terrific.
But it was growing late.
The two of you still sat at his table that was full of a card game, your empty ramen bowls, and cups of water. The clock on the oven read 23:38, and the city lights were slowly dying.
“Are you ready for bed?” Kirishima eventually asked you. 
You looked up from your joined hands; your fingers had been playing with his thick and long fingers for some time now. The apartment grew steadily quieter as you studied and attempted to memorize each callous and scar on his hands. They were definitely marked and nicked, the sign of the warrior he once was.
“Depends on the bed,” you tease, lips rising into a small smile as you compare your much tinier hands than his. Your fingertips barely passed the edge of his palm. “What does a big guy like you sleep in? A twin? Tatami mat?”
Kirishima laughed, his hands twisting in yours, wrapping it around so that he raised your hands up to press a kiss to the center of your palms. 
“A futon, brat,” Kirishima explained, his smile small but sharp with his humor. “Let’s get you to bed?”
You frown. 
“Where will you be sleeping then?”
“My couch is just fine.”
“I’m sure your stuffing in a trash bag had holes in it.”
“That’s okay,” Kirishima laughed, standing up and quickly taking you to your feet as well. “It’s just for a night, I’ll live.”
Your face warmed immediately as he guided you down the hallway of his apartment before finally coming into what was definitely his room.
Kirishima’s scent was faint in this room, cinnamon, wood, and warm spices. It made your eyes flutter as you observed his room from the entryway as he began to set up the room. 
His eye for interior decoration was quite… different. You smiled brightly as you glanced around; the diverse and rather boyish decorations around the room warmed your heart. It seemed exactly like what you would think of for Kirishima. 
“Well, that’s all!” Kirishima exclaimed, his hands landing on his hips in triumph as he looked around. “The bathroom is the next door over, and I’ll leave a toothbrush out for you. I also left out a new t-shirt of mine if you want to change!”
You nod some more, watching as Kirishima seems unsure of what to do next. He looks around, coughs a bit before nodding.
“Okay, I’ll be leaving—”
“Um, can we talk?” you interrupt, arms wrapping around your body. “I have some things I want to say.”
“Oh, sure!”
“You can sit,” you say, motioning toward the bed. “I have a few things to get off my chest.”
Kirishima pauses for a bit, his eyes looking you over before he eventually nods, and he sits down. The bed slightly creaks under his weight, and you feel your body warm-up at the sound. You want to hear the bed creak more, to rock under the weight of you and him pressed against the sheets as you cried his name.
“What is it?” he asks gently, observing you.
“I just…” you huff, words failing you, your tongue feeling heavy. “I wanted to say thank you for saving me.”
“It was my job to do that,” Kirishima smiled warmly, his arms crossing again.
He was relaxed.
“I mean, I can’t even begin to believe that it was Kimiko who was behind all that, even though we know it was… I know it was,” you trail off, shivering slightly as you remember your ex-managers demented laugh in your ear. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
“Nothing would’ve happened to you,” Kirishima spoke with finality. “I promised to myself at the first meeting I was going to protect you, hell the entire world would. You’re not going to be taken down by pathetic people like that, not you.”
“Really?”
“One hundred percent.”
“I feel like I should repay you in some way, though,” you rub the back of your neck, eyes fluttering just the slightest bit flirtatious. Kirishima looked at you with full mooned eyes, his arms unfolding and his palms resting onto the bedspread.
“You repay me plenty already,” came his whispered answer, so quiet, so pure you almost smiled. “You don’t have to do anything.”
Your tongue pushes past your lip, wetting the drying skin as you take a step toward him. The shoulders of the jacket slowly fall from your own shoulders, pooling just above your elbows as you stop before him, hands resting daintily on his broad shoulders.
“And what if I want something?” you ask, finding yourself stemming with energy as his legs part, allowing you closer access to him. 
You step in closer and closer until your outer thighs are ghosting against the inner part of his.
“I think it’s in our contract for me to do everything that you request if I remember correctly,” Kirishima whispers, his bright clear red eyes turning a burnt shade: dark and ever consuming. 
“And if I want you to finish what you started over at the onsen?” you press, fingers curling against the muscles of his shoulders before locking behind his neck.
His nose was brushing against yours, cold yet burning against your own skin.
“I’ll gladly show you what I wanted to do that night,” he grunts, eyes deadly, and for the first time, his hands held your waist.
You took a second to recover, your skin sparking with the electricity of his touch, and you suppressed a shiver as you opened your eyes.
“Do it,” you cement your fates, “coward.”
And just like that, in a movement so euphoric, Kirishima’s mouth crashed against yours.
His mouth was hot, dangerous against yours -- a live wire sparking with uncontrollable energy and heat as your mouths danced. Hot puffs of air were passed between your mouths, your fingers shaking with an undeniable release of tension and want. 
The kiss was sloppy, desperate, so needy with unspoken frantic determination to fuck each other until the other could no longer move. 
Kirishima’s hand removed the jacket from your arms, letting the expensive material fall onto the floor with a heavy thud. Despite the lack of warmth the clothing provided, the feeling of Kirishima’s hands rubbing against your bare arms sent your mind spiraling.
“Get on the bed,” Kirishima commands against your mouth. “Let me fuck you.”
The words were nearly embarrassingly desperate, but the tone of his voice spoke of the absolute domination he wished to assert on you. He wanted you in one exact way, and you had a feeling you knew what it was. But if he had been paying attention, Kirishima should already know that getting you to listen was not easy.
“No,” you grin against his mouth.
Kirishima pulls away instantly, his lips red and swollen as he replays your word in his head. He looks frazzled, absolutely delirious already at the simple, passion-filled makeout. As soon as his eyes clear away the fog, your grin drops, and instead, you look at him with fierce determination and defiance. 
“No?” he repeats.
“No,” you confirm.
Your chest feels light, your head spinning as the hands on your waist tighten, and his eyes flash dangerously. The tip of his tongue pushes past his lips before quickly disappearing again. 
“Of course, you’re a brat in bed too, such a fucking princess,” Kirishima shakes his head, but his mouth curving into a shark-like grin. 
Menacing, promising, sending chilling shivers down your spine.
The world spins faster than you can keep up, your mouth opening to shriek as Kirishima easily lifts you up, and has you lying against his lap. 
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, princess,” Kirishima begins, his large fingers hooking into the waistband of the sweats you have on and the panties you’re wearing. “My princess gets rewards for being good. If she can behave properly, she gets to be fucked with dick, her pussy gets to be fucked just the way she pleases.”
You can’t help but stifle a moan that threatens to spill out with his words and the way his hands move down the curve of your ass, exposing the naked skin to him. The waistband of both your panties and sweats stay high up your thighs, and it’s almost embarrassing to know you’re still so clothed despite what’s to come.
“And just what does the Sergeant do to bad girls?” you ask, unable to keep your tongue down, your hips rolling against his lap in undeserved friction.
Unexpectedly, abruptly, a hand comes down harshly onto your bare ass.
The contact is rough, stinging against your ass as you cry out in slight pain.
The hand not currently rubbing a warning circle into your ass twists the hair at the top of your head, lifting your head up so that your ear could near his mouth.
“Bad girls get punishments. They get what I want to give them. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Holy shit,” you whimper, heat flaring between your thighs at the thought of Kirishima doing anything to you regardless of if you were good or bad. You rut your ass back against his hand, longing for a heavier touch, a plea for something more.
“What does the princess want?”
“Nothing,” you bite, and the crashing smack of another spank has you moaning loudly at the stinging pleasure-filled pain. 
“You moaning like a whore at a simple spank says otherwise,” Kirishima chuckles darkly, his fingers pinching your stinging ass as your body bucks against him. He spanks you again, again, and again. Each slap is intentful, powerful, wanting to get you to admit what you want, and you cry against your hands each time, your eyes fluttering as the pain feels good. 
“Of course, a slut like you would be getting off on this,” Kirishima seems amused, his thick finger pressing to the slit of your cunt, spreading your dripping essence against your cunt. He presses against your entrance with just the tip of his finger, and you shriek in a sound for more, your hips jerking backward to get his finger into you, to fuck you with those thick fingers to do something about the growing desperate heat. 
“Kirishima!” you scream, your body sweating and twisting on his lap, desperate to find some way to get him to finger fuck you. 
“Ah, there we go,” he sighs in delight as his fingers swirl at your entrance, increasing the teasing and making your mind spin. “Tell me what you want, brat.”
“You!” you wail, two of his fingers carting between your wet, sloppy heated lips. They graze your clit, stimulating you further as you can do nothing but instinctively jerk against his hold, trying to get him to give you the needed pleasure to build up to an orgasm. “I want you to fuck me so good! Please, Sergeant, please, I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember anything but your name.”
“But you haven’t proven to be a good princess,” Kirishima tuts, his hands disappearing from your pussy despite your crying pleas. His hand grabs your ass, though, massaging the abused skin, grasping it tightly.
You moan, embarrassed at the sensation of his massive hand easily cupping your ass cheek, your fingers fisting into the fabric of his pants as you shake your head.
“Are you going to prove that you’re good?” he asks you, his tone like that of a parent chastising a child. “Gonna prove to me that you can be good?”
You shake pathetically against his legs, but you can’t keep yourself from shaking your head. You can’t prove to him that you would be.
“I can’t!” you whimper loudly, your body twisting on his lap to look up at him, your eyes filled with tears and pleading need. Kirishima looked down at you with lust filled eyes and an undeniable need to be followed.
“You can’t?” he repeats, his head tilting, eyes narrowing, and his fingers dug into your ass. “Or you won’t?”
You tremble on top of him, unable to answer because you weren’t ready to hand over the reins just yet. You didn’t want to submit so fast, you wanted to make his own head dizzy with need but the stubbornness to continue punishing you the way he was promising.
“I won’t,” you gasp, eyes fluttering at the way he finally drops your head.
You gasp loudly as you find him shoving you off his lap, and with your panties and sweats sitting so awkwardly high on your legs, you find yourself tumbling off his lap and onto the floor.
“Guess if you don’t want to behave, I’ll treat you like some fucking pussy pocket and dispose of you once I’m done,” Kirishima easily breathes, and you look up at the now standing man as he tears his shirt off.
Your mouth waters, your cunt throbbing at the sight of the rippling muscles and dark lines of his tattoos on his upper body. You watch fascinated, like one does to a masterpiece, as he undresses until he’s in nothing but his socks. And at the sight of his dick, you can feel at once all the blood in your flushed face drop directly into your throbbing cunt.
He was fucking enormous, his girth barely fitting into his hand, and the angry red head spilled its precum against his abs. A black happy trail connecting Kirishima’s abs to his vein throbbing cock.
Holy fuck, he could quickly kill you with that.
Kirishima doesn’t ask any questions as he watches your awkwardly dressed state of a body on the floor. His head is tilted upwards, a small pleased smile on his face as he looks down on you, his hand slowly, leisurely fisting his cock as you can do nothing but stare.
You make some insane noise at the back of your throat at this sight, your thighs trembling with need, and you're pushing off your side, your ass burning, and your balance off as you open your mouth, offering all you could to him.
And thankfully, Kirishima allows it.
He’s much too tall for you to suck him off on your knees, so he sits back down onto the bed, letting you scamper between his legs, mouth open wide like some needy pet.
“Such a good little slut,” Kirishima sighs, sinking his cock into your wet, hot mouth. “Such a fucking cockwhore, all it took was a single glance for you to lose your will.”
You whine against his dick, your jaw tight with the stretch, your tongue lapping so desperately around the cock that was no more than halfway in yet couldn’t go in any further.
“Suck me right, and I’ll reward you by fucking that pretty little pussy of yours,” Kirishima grunts, his fingers pressing into the side of your neck as he ruts his hips up into your mouth, shoving his cock even further into your mouth. “And don’t you dare look away from me while you suck me off.”
It feels like fire.
His cock driving down your throat hurts, the taste of his salty pre-cum slathering all over your tongue and dripping out of your mouth with the saliva you can’t control. His cock hits the back of your throat, and you continue to bob your head, continue to fuck him with your throat as animalistic, praiseworthy noises begin spilling from Kirishima’s mouth.
You whimper at the sight of his head dipping back, and you nearly whine when he shoves the fingers he had gathered your juices on into his mouth. He moans at the contact and with his pleasure with your actions so obvious as you choke against his girth. That was hot, holy fuck, you wanted him to fuck you, please fuck you. 
Your eyes close as he begins to fuck faster into your mouth, his delight in hearing you choke around him his driving force. Tears start pouring from your eyes despite your best efforts, your throat and inner thighs burning with lust and need as Kirishima groans, his cock twitching deep in your throat.
Slap!
“Hey!”
Slap!
You gag harshly as your cheeks sting with his heavy slap, your teeth grazing underneath his cock, right against a thick, twisting vein.
“Did I tell you to close your eyes?” Kirishima practically growls, his hands grasping the back of your neck, the other one slapping you across the face yet again. “No. I said… fuck… I said, keep your eyes on me!”
Tears weep down your face, your eyes struggling to keep focus on him as he continued to fuck deep and intensely into your mouth, shoving himself further into you until you could feel his thighs grazing your chin. Oxygen wasn’t flowing anymore; your gags and chokes the only time the burning element could manage to flow through you, but Kirishima doesn’t seem to care. He seems to delight in the way you are, despite it all, are moaning and looking at him in a pleading way for more.
More, you plead.
And he delivers. 
Kirishima pulls his still hard, not yet cummed, dick out of your mouth and stands. 
You splutter with the sudden intake of oxygen to your lungs, burning you from the inside out as you splutter on the ground.
“W-What’s going on?” you hoarsely stammer, your jaw and throat aching from its prolonged abuse. “E-Ei?”
However, Kirishima seems dead set on getting you naked, and you squeal in flustered excitement as he rips the shirt off of you and his mouth pressing against yours again. His mouth crashes against yours, and you moan into his mouth immediately.
His tongue curls into your mouth and your tongues press and rub against each other. Each passing second growing more desperate, needier, more intense as your clothes are ripped one by one off your body.
“Holy fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long,” Kirishima nearly whines, his mouth trailing down your neck, biting and sucking against every centimeter of skin he passed. “Wanted to fuck you against the wall, in my bed, and now I get to do that.”
“Please, please, fuck me, please,” you beg, your voice bordering a wail as your arms wrap around his neck, letting him lift you up off the floor. Despite you being so much smaller than him that when he held you to him, your cunt wasn’t pressed to his angry leaking cock, you continued to desperately roll your hips against his abs, the friction welcomed and easing the building pressure. It was an action conveying just what you wanted. “I need you in me, Sergeant!”
“Just cuz… holy fuck,” Kirishima breathes ragged, his body twisting around, and you cried when the cold sheets pressed into your back. “Imma fuck you, Imma… god, just fucking watch.”
Your head thrashed back onto the pillow as Kirishima’s teeth sunk into your collarbone, then captured your sensitive nipples, his fingers dancing against your clit and teasing your center. 
“Now!” you cry, fingers digging into his shoulder. “Put it in!”
This time, Kirishima didn’t need to be told twice.
His larger body was suddenly pressed entirely against yours, dwarfing you immediately as your arms wrapped around his back as his cock slammed into you. You screamed at the sudden intrusion, your pussy stretched beyond its typical limits by his girth, his size, his power.
Your cunt throbbed around him, your face buried within his pecs as you, despite the searing pain, shove your hips up towards him. Fucking into him, sucking him further into you.
“Holy shit,” Kirishima groans, “you’re amazing.”
“Talk less, fuck me more!” you screech, your body spasming, twitching so hard from the splitting pleasure and the lava pit in your stomach, and Kirishima does that exactly.
His hips begin to meet yours in equaled power, slamming into you so that the bed creaked beneath you. He fucked you until he had to hold a hand on your hip so you could stay there, and you kept a hand on the wall to continue to push yourself down onto his cock.
You screamed with pleasure, cried for more, Kirishima’s shark-like smirk getting bolder, darker, hotter with every slam of his hips until his tattooed right arm shot down. His hand wrapped around your throat, choking you.
“You’re so loud, princess,” Kirishima moans, clearly liking your loud noises, “but you’re going to wake everyone in Tokyo.”
His hand around your throat is enough to have your legs trembling around his waist, your choked and muffled moans and splutters drowning out even more as he pressed a kiss onto you. He kissed you, licking your mouth, and devouring your every word and thought. Your core twisted, tightened, and burned. It throbbed and clenched with it’s impending orgasm, and your body began to tense to the heavens as his cock throbbed deep within you.
“Who saved you?”
“E-Ei did,” you garble.
“Who’s fucking you?”
“E-Ei is!”
“Who’s going to fucking cum when I tell her to?”
“Me! Fuck, me!”
Kirishima laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist, and in one final, fleeting burst of strength, fucks into you with his own power, needs, and desire, and you can only take it. “Cum, princess,” he whispered almost sweetly against the top of your head, and it was all over. Your teeth sink into his chest as you scream, a blinding white light erupting through your vision as you cum around his cock.
Kirishima whimpers, his cock still pushing deep into your cunt, until you can feel the warm spill of his seed in your womb.
He collapses to the side of you, taking you with him so that you were resting on his sweaty chest.
“Holy shit,” Kirishima whispered after a bit, your body already warm and too lethargic to notice the star-like tone to his voice. “That was fucking… holy shit.”
“Does this mean you like me?” you half tease, half wonder.
There’s a pause, a silence, and you wonder if maybe he had fallen asleep.
But he didn’t.
“I’ve been in love with you for some time now, I think,” he admits, his hand beginning to rub small circles into your back.
You find that despite the exhaustion, warmth floods your cheeks.
“Oh?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I guess we’re going to have to discuss a more… permanent and maybe different contract tomorrow morning, huh?”
Kirishima chuckles, and you find yourself smiling into his chest.
“I think we do.”
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noteguk · 9 months ago
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slow | jjk | m | drabble
[ ! ] this is a drabble for bad influence. It can be read as a stand-alone. 
— summary; in which, every once in a while, the two of you decide to take things easy.
— contents and warnings; smut, a bit of fluff if you squint, pwp, badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits/enemies to lovers, dirty talk, car sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex (don’t.), pet names (the usual), clothed sex, the usual bickering, the very well known duo that is creampie and cockwarming, cum stuffing, vague mentions of bondage, jk being whipped out of his mind 
— words; 2k
— author’s note; just a little something before the next big part comes! I wrote this because this ask here got me thinking… Also! Timeline: after bad attitude
Spring nights should be way colder than that. 
That one thought was reverberating inside your head in an endless loop, suffocating any other doubts that might have appeared in its place. You often did that when you were overwhelmed: allowed your brain to hold tightly onto one single idea so you could ground yourself, so you could actually stop and make sense of what was happening around you. At that particular moment, you had chosen the fact that such a night was far too heated to belong in spring. 
The day hadn’t even been that hot — it could barely be considered warm, really — and, as evening approached, it got more chilly, a consequence of the howling winds that fell upon the city. The flowers were blooming, the skies had been as crystal clear as they come: it was spring, and your calendar and Yongsun’s seasonal pollen allergy didn’t lie to you. Yet, the inside Jungkook’s car had morphed into your personal sauna, impregnated with a thick cloud of heat that barely allowed you to breathe in. 
Of course, if you decided to push those stupid meditations aside as to take a rational look at the situation, you knew the reason why that was. And it was the same motive as always. 
“That’s it, baby, slowly,” said motive murmured against your neck, his strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist. The backseat of Jungkook’s car had never felt so small, the sounds you were making had never seemed so loud — and, well, a spring night had never been so goddamn hot. A lot of things didn’t seem right. “Fuck.” A deep growl left his chest as you clenched around him, his lips pausing their ministrations on your skin. “Shit, do that again.” 
You nodded, soon realizing that he couldn’t really see you with his face buried on your neck. Instead, you decided to simply act out his request, your walls constricting around his cock as you bounced up and down on it. “Like this?” You breathed out. 
“Yeah, just like that,” Jungkook moaned, throwing his head back — an airy, needy exclamation that left you wanting to add some speed to your sluggish pace. At the same time, you liked it lazy; liked the way that the lethargic rise and fall of your body allowed you to feel every detail of his length stretching you out. “Shit, baby, you’re gonna make me cum like this.”
“Already?” You teased, watching as a frown overtook his features. Easy like that, all your worries about the abnormal rise of temperature during spring vanished inside your head — it would be way more interesting if you redirected that mental energy towards provoking him instead. “You used to last a lot longer than this.” 
“Fuck off,” he cursed, squeezing your ass for good measure. It was extremely difficult to be mad at you when your pussy was sending him to heaven and back, though, but Jungkook still fought a good fight. “You’ve been riding me for a long ass time, of course I’m gonna cum.” 
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, right.” 
“Besides,” Jungkook ignored your blatant sarcasm, because it was either that or flipping you around and showing you his own side of the story. Since he wasn’t feeling like doing so — the image of you fucking yourself on his big cock was far more pleasant than that — he chose the path of least resistance. “It’s hard to hold back when you look this fucking hot.”
Which was the complete, unadulterated truth. There was something about having you with your clothes on that got Jungkook horny out of his mind — that grey skirt he loved so much being pulled upwards, red panties hastily pushed to the side so he could sink his hard, throbbing cock inside your pussy whenever he wanted to. Having you ride him was even better: he was a man of culture, after all, and he could die happy having you on top of him, using him to get yourself off; his lips attacking and marking your neck while you produced the most beautiful sounds he had ever been graced with. 
What could he say? Jungkook wasn’t the strongest amongst men, and he certainly wasn’t strong at all when it came to you. 
You laughed, the sound making his soul elevate to a different plane. Jungkook was fucked. In more ways than one, he was absolutely fucked. “Compliments won’t make a difference right now,” you told him, your lips curled up into a mischievous smile. If given enough time, Jungkook could get lost in that moment, a deep moan dripping from his parted lips as you rolled your hips just right, pussy so tight and wet that he felt as if it was sucking him in. “You wanna cum?”
He could barely keep his eyes open, but he was lucky enough to find his voice. “That would be nice, yeah.” 
You leaned in, your breasts pressing against his muscular chest. It was actually too much clothing standing in his way, Jungkook paradoxically thought, but it was the price he had to pay to get you like that. He could suck on your tits another time. “Inside?” You asked, voice slightly above a whisper. 
He groaned at the idea, his hands grabbing your ass harder, silently begging you to quicken your pace (which, of course, you did not do). Jungkook could feel his cock throbbing inside you, the idea of filling you up egging him on. “You’re making it real hard not to,” he complained, watching as you laughed at his distress. You could be so mean when you wanted to, and he liked that way more than he should. “Can I?” 
You tilted your head to the side, examining him closely. The lights coming from outside were pale and diaphanous; contrasting shades of white and apricot that melted over his features, enhancing the pleasure amongst them. As usual, the parking lot was completely empty, and all that existed was the world inside his car. “Since when are you so polite about it?” You playfully questioned. Soon, a curtain of understanding fell upon your mind. “Aw, did getting tied up traumatize you that much?”
Jungkook clenched his jaw, sharply exhaling through his nose. “You’re really trying to piss me off tonight.”
You nodded, looking like a demon above him. “Am I doing a good job?” You asked, taunting the remnants of his patience. 
“A great one.” The sigh he let out was shaky, permeated by desire. There was no way he would be able to keep up that conversation with the way your velvety walls dragged up and down his cock; his tip already so sensitive for being soaked in your heat for so long. You were riding him like a champ, changing between a steady rise and fall of your hips to a delicious roll of your center against his that left Jungkook with barely no time to think. He wholeheartedly loved that position, but he couldn’t even handle it sometimes. “Fuck, princess, I’m really close. Your pussy feels so good.” 
Because you were really trying to make him lose his mind, you placed a kiss on his cheek, fingers delicately playing with his messy dark hair. “Yeah? Thought you would’ve gotten used to it by now.”
Jungkook shook his head. “I don’t think that’s — fuck — I don’t think that’s possible,” he responded. His tone was groggy now, stained by the fast crescendo of his pleasure. All that he could think about was you and how much he wanted to see you cum all over his cock. “Shit, baby, I wanna stuff you with my cum so bad. I’m almost there.” 
“Go ahead,” you told him softly, “I’m close too.” 
A faint nod was all that he could give in return. Jungkook was slowly but surely losing his fucking mind, and that wasn’t even funny anymore. He felt as if he was transported to a different atmosphere when he was with you — one which his oxygen was always running thin; his dazed-out brain simply unable to focus on anything else but you. How could it? You were just so fucking pretty riding his cock like that, he was barely producing one cohesive thought at that point. “Baby,” he moaned, fingers digging to the flesh of your ass. “Gonna cum.” 
As if you knew exactly what he wanted, you trapped his mouth in yours, kissing him deeply and muffling his strangled grunts with your tongue. Jungkook came soon after, his cock throbbing and filling you up to the brim, which wasn’t a surprise considering how on edge he had been. 
His pleasure started to die out, but he continued to kiss you hungrily, growling against your mouth as you kept up your pace, trying to find your own high. Since he was such an angel, he decided to help you, his thumb starting to trace small circles on your clit. 
“F-Fuck,” you whined as you broke the kiss, your hips abruptly pausing their movements. Your thighs were terribly tired and Jungkook was still mostly hard, but painfully so, and you weren’t mean enough to drag him through that sensitivity. Not that he would give you the same treatment, though. “Jungkook—“
“Just let it go, baby, come on,” he urged, feeling as if he was about to black out because of the way you were clenching around him; your pretty eyes fluttering shut as you approached your climax. “Cum all over my cock, make me proud.” 
It was almost shameful how your body had grown used to Jungkook‘s antics, quickly absorbing his commands and working tirelessly towards them. Within an instant, you were unraveling around him, your orgasm washing over you as you moaned out his name, lips pressed against his sweaty neck. You rolled your hips a few more times as you came, searching for more, and Jungkook fought through those small shocks of pain as you dragged out the last seconds of your high. 
At last, you relaxed against his chest, a final gasp of relief exploding on your lips. With a hum, Jungkook caressed the back of your head, placing a kiss on your cheek — just returning the favor. “Fucking love when you ride me, baby.” 
You chuckled. “How romantic.” Lethargically, you moved back, meeting his fucked-out gaze. Jungkook looked so hot that, for a moment, you forgot what you had been planning to say, but then his gaze was oscillating dowards, pulling at the strings of your memory. “Wanna see it?”
Jungkook smirked; a silent agreement. He always did. “You know me so well.” 
You rolled your eyes, finding support on the back of the front seats so you could show yourself to him. Jungkook hummed at the sight, two of his fingers spreading your folds apart. “Perfect as always.” Without warning, he pushed his leaking cum back inside you, making you gasp a little over how sensitive you were. He looked up at you, shiny eyes and all, and asked exactly what you expected him to. “Keep it in for me?” 
You smiled at him, pushing his hand away so you could tug your panties back in place. Much to Jungkook’s dismay, your skirt fluttered away from your grasp, covering yourself up. “Sure, since you asked so politely,” you told him, moving back onto his lap. You kissed him softly, yet ephemerally, relishing in the way that he searched after your lips as you pulled away. “I should tie you up more often.”
He frowned — apparently, you were joking, but he wasn’t going to take any chances when you were like that. “Don’t even fucking think about it,” he warned.
~
check out the rest of the bad influence collection!
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221bshrlocked · a year ago
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Fever in my Eyes
Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Reader
Words: 8.5K (yeesh)
Warnings: Smut and Angst, my two faves. Blindfold. Breeding Kink!!! Things are consensual from both sides but since this is a sex pollen fic, some of you might consider it as non/con so please proceed with caution.
Summary: Felucia was not an ideal planet to track a quarry on and you find yourself in a sticky situation when you lose sight of the Mandalorian for a moment. An unexpected standoff between Mando and the bounty leads to you escaping back to the Razor Crest, unaware of the pollen which seeped into your nostrils and past your skin. What will the bounty hunter do once he realizes what you’re asking of him? And more importantly, is it worth risking whatever relationship he has with you?
A/N: As always, I am shit with summaries. It’s a sex pollen fic yall. I apologize if my smut isn’t as good as it used to be, I am trying. Also, please please please let me know how I did in the comments. This is only my second ever Star Wars fic and I was very reluctant to post it but Pedro Pascal made me do it because I cannot stop thinking of the man so here it is. Seriously, tell me how I did and what I can do to better my writing. There will be more Din Djarin fics to come :) Enjoy. And this is not beta’d!
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This was not an ideal situation, but it never was. At least not ever since you took the ‘glorified babysitter’ position offered so graciously to you months ago. A short snort made its way past your lips as you walked through the greenery and recalled how you came into caring for the child currently biting and playing with your necklace. You looked down and smiled at him, not bothering to stop him from chewing down on the colorful jewels because you knew for a fact that if Mando heard you criticizing him over something so trivial, he might scold him and make him pout. Maker, the little womp rat made it so hard to be angry with him, let alone attempt to teach him some proper manners. 
So busy playing with the Child, you didn’t notice when the bounty hunter suddenly came to a halt ahead of you. You walked right into his back and stumbled backwards, apologizing immediately when he turned around and tilted his visor to the side. You’ve grown to learn what each tild meant and at the moment, he was definitely a tad bit annoyed with you. 
“S-sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Smiling awkwardly at the man in front of you, you waited until he turned around before narrowing your eyes at the kid currently giggling at your mistake. It was amazing how often he did that, almost as if he knew he was purposely getting you in trouble for his own entertainment. 
“So you never actually told me why this bounty was so important,” your eyes searched your surroundings and marveled at the lush reaching all the way to the top of the strange trees, barely noticing the way the Mandalorian’s shoulders tensed before continuing to walk towards the edge of the forest. If there even was an edge to this jungle. Maker, this was such a weird planet, it smelled weird, it was too hot and too wet, and you sensed there was something strange with all the exotic plants beneath your feet.
When he didn’t respond, you slowly put the Child down and reached inside your satchel for a drink. As soon as the kid noticed the satchel, he waddled back to you and pulled on your cloak until you brought out his favorite blue biscuits. 
“All I’m saying is, this bounty is weird. Who hides all the way out here anyways? I mean I have never heard of this place-”
“You’ve said that about the last four quarries.” You didn’t expect him to respond and eyed him cautiously, looking between him and the kid who continued to eat his snacks and understood absolutely nothing of what you were saying. A shiver ran down your spine when you noticed the way he put the tracking fob back in his pocket before slowly reaching for the blaster pistol. Reflexes instantly kicking in, you hurried to the Child and snatched him off the ground, shushing his little coos and preparing for the worst case scenario which was always, somehow, what transpired.
Silence filled the humid air and you tried to read the bounty hunter’s body language, knowing very well he was not one to say anything unless it was perhaps a little too late for you. His visor dragged through the dried prints on the grass and before you knew it, he was taking off towards the edge of the purple and pink plants. As you followed him, you felt your throat dry much quicker than usual. Thinking it was just the extreme weather of Felucia, you decided it was best to slow down and wait until the Mandalorian caught the bounty before following his path. He’d even told you once to not follow him if you ever saw him running off because that usually meant he was close to the quarry and wouldn’t need your aid. It was a little insulting in the beginning but you were caught during a shoot-out one too many times and understood he was only trying to look out for you and the kid. 
But not even a full minute passed before you heard a sudden blast sound off from the trees above you and before you could figure out what was happening, a heavy weight landed on top of you, and you watched in horror as the kid flew out of your hand into a nearby puddle. 
Trying your hardest to grab the blaster on your hip, you cried out in pain when you felt talons digging into your arms and twist them back. You didn’t know what else to do, eyes scanning the trees in hopes of finding the Mandalorian rushing towards you. But when you realized he was nowhere around, you looked at the kid and prayed he was alright. When you saw his large eyes blinking a few times before struggling to sit up, you knew there was only one outcome. 
“Make a sound, and I will feast on your organs.” The stench of the creature filled your nostrils and you sobbed quietly at the implications behind his words. Taking one last look at the kid, you took a deep breath and pushed off the ground as hard as you can.
“MANDO!” As soon as you screamed his name, you felt three talons break the skin of your shoulder blades and drag all the way down to your lower back. You felt hot tears roll down your cheeks and hated how distressed the Child looked. Almost on queue, he was standing up and trying to waddle your way, refusing to listen to your little objections as you tried to tell him to run the opposite direction. 
Before you could dwell on the many different ways you were about to die, you heard a large blast sound through the forest, throwing the creature off of you against one of the trees with a loud cracking noise. You looked up just in time to see the familiar glint of beskar coming closer through the greenery and as you tried to stand up, you felt the same weight behind you again, twisting the talons into your hair and pulling you to your feet. 
You swallowed the lump in your throat when you felt the edge of the hunting knife against your throat. Eyes unable to focus on the figures in front of you, you blinked a few times and realized there were too many sensations hitting you. But the one seemingly outdoing all the others was the growing wet patch on your back and you soon felt sharp pain growing against your skin where the strange liquid rolled down your skin. You weren’t sure if it was blood or if it was drool from the thing behind you and a part of you didn’t care because what difference would it make. 
“Should have known you were the only crazy one to come here...come after me.” A slithering whisper made its way past your ears and your knees buckled as you started to feel faint. But then the creature held you up roughly and pressed the knife harder against your throat, warning you against falling to the ground.
“Your problem is with me T'doshok. Let her go.” You vaguely saw the Child walk towards his father, relief washing over you when you knew he was safe once more. At some point, you’ve come to care more for him than for yourself and you were never sure if it was because he was so precious or because of how important he was to the Mandalorian. 
“Aren’t we past formalities Mando? At least do me the honor of saying my name...old friend.” 
Your gaze immediately shifted from the kid to the beskar-clad man standing in front of him. So they knew each other? Why didn’t he tell you? Did he still not trust you to know such matters until now?
“ Ni Kelir kyr'amur gar meh gar vaabir not ba'slanar kaysh.” You heard the Mandalorian growl through the visor and even though you didn’t understand what he said, you knew it was anything but friendly. Wait, that meant the T'doshok behind you understood Manod’a. 
A sob escaped your throat when you felt the bounty laugh behind you at the warning. 
“You can’t possibly mean that Mando.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was a hint of surprise etched in the voice growling in your ear.
“Ni vaabir not baatir te waadas...believe me.” The conscious part of your brain wondered why he continued to speak in Mando’a. He knew you didn’t understand much of it…
The silence was almost deafening and you weren’t sure what was happening until your boss stepped forward and tilted his helmet to the side,
“Gedet'ye.” The modulated voice sounded strange to your ears. He was only ever this softly-spoken with the Child.
“Well, this is unexpected. In that case-” You didn’t have time to react, watching as the world twirled around you before you fell among the purple and pink flowers you were so impressed by earlier. A strange scent hit your nostrils but you couldn’t dwell on it for more than a few seconds. Willing yourself to stand up, you pushed off the ground as soon as you saw the kid waddling towards you. As soon as he tried to walk behind you, you knew what he was trying to do and picked him up before he could do anything.
“No little guy...you- I can’t...I need to make sure you’re okay.” You could faintly hear the sound of blasters going off for a few moments and by the time you managed to take the gun out of your holster, you saw the Mandalorian standing above an unconscious reptilian creature. So that’s what a T'doshok is…
Slowly making your way towards them, you blinked away the tears and wiped your eyes to try and clear your sight. 
“Ad'ika, are you alright?” You shivered at the tone Mando was using with you. Dank Ferrik, you must have hit your head pretty hard if you thought the Mandalorian was worried about anyone but the green little thing in your arms.
“I- yes. I’ll be f-fine. Just-” You hadn’t meant to react the way you have but as soon as you felt his gloved hand touch your neck, you jerked away from him and held out your hand to stop him from coming any closer to you. Mando was shocked at your reaction and was glad to have something to hide behind. A few seconds passed in silence and you were still staring at him with wide open eyes and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were afraid of him. It occurred to him that it wasn’t shock that beat at his heart but a deep and twisting sense of hurt. And when he scanned your body language, he could tell you were trembling in front of him and the last thing he wanted to do was to give you another reason to fear him.
“Can you walk back to the-”
“Yes. I’ll- fu...I’ll take the kid.” Before he could say anything else, you were clutching the Child closer to your chest and walking back to the Razor Crest. You searched your mind to try and understand why you reacted the way you have to his touch but couldn’t find anything to explain the sharp pain striking through your insides. It was too much too quickly. Even though it wasn’t his skin, you felt neurons firing simultaneously as soon as he trailed his fingers down your neck. You hoped to the gods he wasn’t offended by your reaction because the last thing you needed was to drive him further away from you.
Barely making it back to the ship, you managed to go up the ladder and put the Child back in his crib in the cockpit before shutting it and locking the door behind you. Scrambling inside your mind for a moment, you turned to the ramp and walked towards the hatch before pushing in the code until it sealed shut. 
In an instant, everything touching your skin was too rough and incredibly heavy. Before you could think twice about it, you were violently stripping out of your clothes, throwing them to the ground on your way to the refresher. As soon as you walked into the small room, you turned on the cold water and sighed heavily as it beat down on your heated skin. 
“Not enough…” Crying to the empty room, you made sure the hot water wasn’t on before leaning back against the cool tiles of the walls. But no sooner than that were you hissing and pushing off of the wall. You completely forgot about the open gashes on your back and the shooting pain was almost instantaneous when you remembered just how large the wound was.
As you dwelled on the last hour or so, you felt your legs give out on you and before you knew it, you were sliding down to the floor. Eyes shutting slowly, you fell to the side and let the cold water run down your form. And as hard as you tried to stay awake, you couldn’t help your mind’s request as it begged to rest. You let sleep wash over you, the last sound ringing in your ear was Mando’s worried voice asking if you were okay.
Back outside, the bounty hunter was fuming with anger, not caring about how oddly violent he became with the quarry. He was never one to beat an unconscious being but something took over him when he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks. As he pushed his way through the forest, he thought back to the way you looked up at him with those innocent eyes. And he hated himself for the way his body reacted to your fragile body.
“Ni’duraa.” He whispered to himself when he saw the Crest come into view, continuing to pull the T'doshok until he walked up the ramp and onto the ship. It was awfully quiet but he decided to freeze the reptile before he walked around to look for you. Minutes later, he was ascending the ladder to the cockpit, unlocking it and reaching for the crib on his pilot chair. When he opened it and saw the kid cooing in his sleep, he shut it once more and left to look for you. It was strange how he couldn’t hear a single sound. You were normally talkative after a mission, and as he placed his weapons back on the wall, he noticed your clothes lying haphazardly on the ground. Mando sighed heavily as he picked them up, flushing violently when he saw the last two items leading into the refresher. Strange, you were never one to throw things around.
Not wanting to bother you anymore, he placed the clothes on your cot and ascended to the cockpit once more, wanting to leave Felucia as quickly as possible because he knew how the locals became when uninvited guests stayed for too long. As they left the sector, the Mandalorian couldn’t help but question why you were still in the refresher. You’d arrived long before him and it took him a while to navigate through the jungle because of how heavy the bounty was. 
Putting the ship on auto-pilot, he made his way to the refresher but not before noticing a strange scent fill his nostrils. Looking down at his hands, he noticed a bright purple powder covering his gloves and as soon as he brought his hands up to the edge of the visor, he was hit with many different sensations, all of which he could distinctively place back to you. Your honey-scented soap, the orange tea he saw you constantly drinking, the smell of your sweat on a particularly hot day when you tried to fix the ship...
“Fuck…” He swore before wiping his gloves against his cloak and approached the refresher. 
Knocking on the door, he waited a few moments for a response and breathed impatiently when  you didn’t bother to say anything.
“Open up, Cyar'ika.” He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly using such endearing words to call for you and when he was met with more silence, he groaned in annoyance before warning you. “If you don’t open the door now, I will break it.” Normally, you would have clapped back with a snarky comment that would get his blood boiling but he knew something was wrong when you remained quiet. Throwing propriety out the window, he kicked the door open and walked in, eyes searching the small room until they fell on your unconscious form under the water. 
“Maker,” kneeling to the ground, his heart clenched when he saw a viscous, black liquid oozing out of the gash on your back. How did he not notice this when you left? Quickly reaching for the left knob, he swore when he noticed the hot water wasn’t even on and almost broke the other one as he tried to switch it off. Why would you take such a cold shower when you weren’t even on a desert planet? Wiping your hair away from your face, the Mandalorian tried to wake you and began to feel anxiety seep into his clothes along with the water cascading down your body when he realized this was much worse than he thought. He took off his gloves and pushed you onto your back, trying his hardest to avert his gaze from your naked skin as he bent down and carried you out of the refresher. 
Opening his quarters, he laid you on his covers before grabbing the anesthetic above him and turning you on your stomach to care for the wounds. As he sprayed your back, he noticed the way you groaned in your sleep and forced himself to attend to the task at hand. He hoped to the gods there wasn’t any poison in the wound before he grabbed the bacta spray and slowly made his way down the skin of your back. He sighed in relief when he noticed your skin slowly shifting and sealing itself, trying to calm his increasing heart rate when he remembered just how fragile and naked you were beneath him. Some sick part of him was attracted to you even in such a state and he wished more than anything for you to be awake and willing to-
This is not how he pictured seeing you for the first time.
When you started shifting beneath him, he kneeled away from you and covered your legs, continuing to care for the wound on your lower back until it started to close as well. By the time he put all the medication back in its place, you were turning around and moaning in discomfort and Mando realized it was because you were probably still freezing from the cold water. Taking off his cloak, he barely draped it on your sleeping form when you pushed it off and turned on your back. He felt the fabric of his pants tighten around his crotch and looked away from you.
“Please...too- too much. I can’t-” He couldn’t understand what you were trying to say and moved to place the cloak on you again, head instantly turning to your face when you smacked the offensive object away from him and began to trail your fingers down your skin. He hadn’t meant to and before he could stop himself, he was watching as your fingers made their way down to your hips before dipping into the space between your thighs.
Maker be damned, how were you so glistening and flushed?
“M-Mando?” His eyes snapped to your face and watched as you spread your legs until he positioned between them. “Mando I need...you. I need you please, this is- it hurts. I can’t...it hurts so much. Please h-help me.” Your voice was filled with dangerous requests, and he felt his cock twitch in his pants when he saw the way you reached for his thighs and dragged your nails down to his knees. 
“Cyare, you don’t know what you’re asking.” He forced himself to keep his gaze on your face and nowhere else. But with every passing moment, the need to look at where he’d dreamt of feasting on for so many nights outgrew his respect for you. 
“Mando...I want you, n-need you...please, I promise I’ll be good. So so good for you, just- oh maker I-”
The small part of his brain that wasn’t ruled by his pulsing cock finally figured out what was happening and he growled as he pushed off of you and out to your cot. Grabbing your shirt, he turned it around and saw the same purple powder that was on his gloves coloring the whole front of your cloak. He recalled back to what happened when he left you and remembered where the T'doshok pushed you before he attacked him. 
Of course. The pollen from the spore plants.
Which meant that-
“Oh fuck.” The Mandalorian felt his insides churn when he realized what was taking place not ten feet away from him, and he felt his heart skip a beat when he knew what could potentially happen to you if your...needs weren't properly met. With reluctance, he made his way back to his sleeping cot and felt his chest tighten when he saw what you were doing.
You were on your side, fingers rubbing furiously at your soaking core and whimpering at the consistent and harsh touches passing through your nerves. But it wasn’t the mess you were making that caught his attention. No, it was the fact that you had his cowl twisted between your thighs and around your back. He watched in awe as you pushed your face into the rough material, taking in deep breaths to try and fill your nostrils with his scent. Taking one step closer to you, his eyes bore into your heated skin and he choked on air when he saw you lick at the hood of the cloak before taking your fingers out of your cunt and replacing them with his cowl. He couldn’t believe his eyes and the thought of wearing it around with your scent sticking to it broke him. 
Mando looked around the ship for a few moments in an attempt to think of what he should do. Swallowing the dry lump in his throat, he approached your slowly and gasped when he met your eyes and saw the way you were looking at him.
“M-mando! Please...fuck me. I- I need you to...don’t c-care how. I promise I’ll do anything, wh-whatever you want...ple-please.” Chills ran down your spine when you forced yourself to throw the cowl away. Turning around, you laid on your stomach and took a deep breath before raising your lower half off of the covers. As you rested your head on your arm and bit into your wrist, you looked back to the beskar-clad man, silently pleading with him while swaying your ass in the air. 
“Gota'la…” Before the Mandalorian could talk himself out of it, he was kicking his heavy shoes away and making his way closer to you. A part of him screamed that of the two of you, he was the one less affected by the pollen and was technically responsible for whatever transpired next. And he was close to asking you if you were sure you wanted to take this further if it weren’t for the way you reached beneath you and faintly trailed your fingers through your soaking slit. 
“Ad'ika, gar cuyir mesh'la.” He was speaking to himself more than to you and smiled to himself when he noticed your cunt clenching around nothing as soon as his words filled the silence. “Sweet girl, you like it when I speak to you in Mando’a?” You shivered at his tone and found it difficult to respond to him, especially when you could tell he was definitely not looking at you but at the mess you were making on his bed. A loud cry rang through the small room when you felt his hand come down on your backside before squeezing the flushed skin. 
“I asked you a question Cyar'ika.” His deep and modulated voice only made it worse and you found yourself nodding at him before whispering out a low ‘yes.’
“K'olar,” you squealed when you felt Mando twirl your around onto your back before pulling your naked body flush to his still-clothed one. You were about to beg him to just fuck you already when he shoved two of his fingers into your mouth to shush you. You moaned shamelessly around his fingers, whining even louder when you realized you were sucking on his calloused skin and not on the gloves he almost never took off unless he was alone. 
“You’re going to come just like this sweet girl.” Mando manhandled you until you were straddling one of his thighs, growling impatiently when you tried to push yourself away from him. His arm tightened around your waist, pushing you down on the beskar cuisse until you finally understood what he wanted from you.
“C-cold…”
“Be a good girl and drench my armor little one. Let me walk around with the memory of your cunt dripping on me.” His words hit too close to your somewhat aware mind and you chose to dwell on their meaning later. Softly inching your hands onto his shoulders, you fisted your fingers into his shirt to support your weight before dragging yourself against the rugged and cool beskar in between your thighs. As you threw your head back and sighed in pleasure, Mando couldn’t help but squeeze the heated skin of your hip, knowing very well there would soon be fingerprint marks wherever he touched you. 
“That’s it...could smell how much you want me Cyare. Can’t believe you’re in my arms...look at you, using my thighs to get off.” You barely managed to turn your attention to him, lips still enclosed around his fingers and biting down on them the more he shoved them in your mouth.
“Mando I- I need to-” Before you could finish your request, Mando was wrapping the other arm around hips and violently dragging you against his cuisse, looking down to watch as your juices dripped on his beskar armor. 
“What a sight…” He groaned and turned his gaze towards you again just in time to watch you fall apart on him. He marveled at how quickly he brought you to pleasure and figured it must have been the pollen making you extra sensitive to his ministrations. Wanting to stretch out your pleasure for as long as possible, he threw you back onto his bed and pushed your thighs open, not giving you a chance to question him as he shoved two fingers into your cunt and massaged that spongy spot deep inside you. You arched your back and grasped at his arms, barely managing to look at the visor just as he increased pressure and fucked you with his fingers. 
“M-MANdo oh g-gods-”
“Scream my name sweet girl, and only my name.” Had you actually listened to what he said, you would have sassed back at him and told him you didn’t actually know his name. But you couldn’t care less at the moment, digging your fingers into his forearms as you came around his thick fingers, repeatedly praying his “name” until you couldn’t remember anything else.
“Mesh'la...you’re so tight and warm for me...that’s it, squeeze my fingers like the good little girl you are.” Mando watched as you came around his fingers, his eyes not knowing where to look and wishing he could taste the sweat sticking on your neck as you whimpered beneath him. 
He heard it before he felt it, moaning in blind lust as he took in the sight beneath him. Your legs shook violently as you, quite literally, drenched his thighs and blankets with your cum and Mando didn’t know if he wanted to lick you dry or stuff his nose into your pulsating cunt. 
“Sweet fucking darling, look at the mess you’ve made,” you shivered when you felt his fingers leave your slit, blinking hazily and turning to look at where he was staring. When you saw what he was referring to, you quickly covered yourself and tried to move away from him, embarrassment washing over you when you saw the way he was so obviously staring at the wetness dripping down your. But Mando was much quicker than you, grabbing your thighs and pushing them wide open again before laying in between them and dragging his crotch across your sensitive clit. 
“Never hide from me,” you nodded instantly and the Mandalorian would never admit feeling his chest fill with pride at the lust-filled fear he instilled into you with only a few words. Your chest heaved as you continued to look into the visor, almost whimpering when you were met with incredibly dazed eyes and messy hair staring right back at you. It was quiet for a few moments, the only proof that Mando was very much aware of your state being the hardness twitching against your sensitive cunt. 
Mando wasn’t sure what to do with you. He wanted to simultaneously fuck you into the next system and lick every inch of you until you couldn’t take it anymore. “I can smell your cunt Ad'ika...can almost taste your neediness.”
“Ma-mando I- I want you to r-” You felt so naked beneath him, wishing he’d at least take off his clothes before this went any further. Not a single care was given to his helmet and it was out of the question to even attempt and ask him if he could take it off. You just wanted to feel his skin sliding against yours as he fucked you. Nothing else mattered. Just his scarred and sweaty muscles contracting and trailing over your own. 
“What is it sweet girl?” His voice felt like a thousand needles piercing your soul and you didn’t realize where your hands were moving until you felt him roughly grab your wrists and slam them above your head. You could tell there was a shift in the air around you and ceased to breathe when you no longer heard his moans. 
“This is the way.” Those four words hurt you more than they should have. 
“I- I would never ask you to...I swear I just wanted- I wanted to touch you. Not take it off...please I-” Mando felt his heart shatter into a million pieces because somehow, even in your most inebriated state, you respected him. You put him before yourself. And he ceased to breathe when he sat up and watched as you grabbed at his arms and refused to let go.
“N-no don’t go...I need you- d-don’t leave me pl-” Your breathing was erratic and the Mandalorian feared you’d spiral into shock. Without thinking much of his next moves, he grabbed the nearest item of clothing and ripped a small piece of it, returning to rest between your knees and not giving you a choice as he wrapped the band around your eyes and tied it in the back. You trailed your fingers over the band and pulled away instantly when you felt his the hair on his wrist. 
“I’m sorry…” Mando thought of your actions so far and knew in his heart that if there was ever another who’d look upon him, it would be you. Softly taking your hands in his, he pulled them towards his helmet and rested them at the side.
“T-take it off.”
“I can’t...Mando, you don’t have to- I swear I was only-” As hard as it was to say those words, you wanted him to know that he owed you nothing. And you hated how selfish you were being in that moment because the man was trying to tell you something and you were only worrying about yourself and how much your cunt ached for him. You were so close to pushing him on his back and taking your pleasure from him but something told you it would be worth the wait. 
“Mesh'la, I want you to.” You always marveled at how much the Mandalorian could convey in only a few words and shouldn’t have been surprised when you felt just how much he was willing to put his trust in you. Not wanting to scare him, you slowly pulled on the visor until it was completely off, remaining motionless as he took it from your hands and placed it on the floor. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do with your hands so you kept them to the side, fisting your fingers into the blankets to prevent you from reaching out and touching his face. 
Mando could tell you wanted to touch him. You even told him yourself. So he made the decision for you and leaned down, passing his lips over your forehead and smiling down at you when he heard you suck in a breath. You gasped when you felt his beard tickle your cheeks. He had a beard. Of course he had a beard. But as he continued to leave kisses over your face, you realized it wasn’t really a full-grown beard. It didn’t matter in the end because he was driving you insane with every small pass of his plump lips near where you wanted him.
As he finally molded his lips with yours, you felt him pull your hands up to his face and lay them on his cheeks, the groan escaping his throat letting you know he enjoyed you touching him as much as you, perhaps even more. The kiss grew frantic the more you explored his naked skin, and you couldn’t hold back the long moan that erupted into his mouth as soon as you felt him suck on your tongue. When you pulled on his soft hair, Mando couldn’t help but growl into the heated kiss, not caring for how rough he was being as he grabbed and squeezed your thighs. 
But the kiss was over as soon as it began and you whined after him when you felt him pull away from you. You felt your fingers ascend to your face but remembered why the Mandalorian blindfolded you in the first place. Not wanting to lose his trust, you pushed your arms beneath your back to prevent any temptations from taking place. Unbeknownst to you, Mando was watching every little muscle twitch on your nude form and he almost devoured you right then and there when he saw you quickly moving your fingers from your face. 
He was amazed by how caring you were even when you didn’t hold any proper level of the right consciousness. Anyone else would have removed the cloth and blamed the pollen. But not you. 
You were special. 
Refusing to waste any more time, Mando made quick work of the beskar armor, not caring about the mess he was making just outside his room. He kept his eyes on you the entire time, smiling when he noticed you shivering beneath his gaze. He was on you as soon as he deposited his long-sleeve and pants, devouring your mouth and digging his fingers into your waist as he rutted against you. 
“Ner-” 
The possessiveness was almost palpable and he surprised even himself at the single syllable. Since when was he like this?
“Mando,” you whispered his name as you wrapped your arms around his back and pulled him flush against you, sighing in relief when you felt the hair of his chest tickle your nipples. Mando noticed your reaction and instantly descended on your heaving chest, biting and licking and pinching at the hardened buds until you begged him to slow down.
“Ni'm liser't...taylir norac. You’re so fucking delicious.” The way he effortlessly switched between his mother tongue and Basic shouldn’t have turned you on this much and yet you were. 
“Fuck me.” Your words were dripping with desperation and the Mandalorian wasn’t able to hold any longer. He wanted to take his time with you, commit every little curve to memory. Memorize what made your breath hitch and what made you sigh. 
But the request ended all of his curiosity and before you knew it, you felt him roughly pull down on his boxer briefs. You flushed when you heard the sound of his hand jerking his cock, mouth falling wide open when it jutted at your inner thighs and you felt how fucking hard and thick it was. 
“What will it be sweet girl? You want me to make love to you,” he paused for a moment and took advantage of your distracted expression, rubbing the head of his cock against your wet slit and biting his lips when he felt you arch against him at the simple yet filthy movement. “Or fuck you like I own you…like you’re mine.”
Hearing him say ‘fuck’ in such a vulgar tone did it for you and you didn’t know what to do with yourself except widen your legs more for him and grab the bed sheets beneath you.
“F-fuck me like you own me Mando...ruin me. Take what you want and- oh maker you’re so- so...fu- please, u-use me however you want. Just- I need your cock. Need to cum on your cock...can’t wait anym-”
Mando was sure he broke you with his words, watching in awe as you begged and begged until you couldn’t breathe anymore. There was no warning, no asking if you were ready for him. There was just your wet cunt teasing him until he couldn’t bear the thought of not being deep inside your pussy.
Resting his head against yours, he took his painfully hard cock in his hand and shoved it past your wet lips, letting out a deep growl as he felt you scratch his back.
“Mando, Mando, M-mando…”
You didn’t find the strength to think of a proper sentence to express what you were feeling so you opted to pray his name over and over again. He was shaking above you and you knew instantly he was trying his hardest not to break you.
“Take what you want- I...I won’t break.” 
Just hearing you say those words to him almost made him cum right then and there. You were returning the trust he gave you and he knew there was no way of putting this moment behind him even if he tried. 
Pulling out until only the head of his cock was splitting you open, Mando bucked his hips violently back into you, whispering the filthiest promises into your ears as he set a rough pace that had you seeing worlds you didn’t even know existed. 
“So, fucking, tight...how are you so wet and tight for me Cyare?” It took you a while to realize you were hearing his voice without the modulator of his mask. How had you not noticed how beautifully sinful it was when he first took it off? You wanted to tell him how much you loved hearing his thick and smooth voice. You wanted to kiss down his neck and bite onto his shoulders. You wanted to push him down and force his cock inside your throat. 
So much. You wanted so much. 
But you couldn’t find your voice in that moment. Not when he was railing into you with such an unforgiving force. 
“Made for me...made to take my cock. Such a sweet fucking girl- ah.” You should have known Mando would not be the quiet type in bed. He was a man of few words during his day-to-day life so of course he would take this chance and spill out his innermost thoughts. But it surprised you nonetheless considering how downright dirty his moans and whispers were. And you were sure he was as filthy, if not more, when he continued to speak in Mando’a. 
With every passing moment, you felt a piece of your heart split from your chest and slowly make its way into his hands. He was branding you, his cock reaching so deep inside you that you were sure you could feel him right below your navel if you only moved your hands against your skin. But you couldn’t afford to let go of him, not when he was using you just as you requested. 
“Mando you...maker, you’re filling me so- so good. I- please, can I cum? I want t- to cum. Been so good for you. Need to-” The chuckle that left his lips was sweet music to your ears until you realized he might be laughing at how pathetic you were. 
“Fucking gods Ad'ika...fill you up? Is that what you want sweet girl? You want me to- fuck, fuck...want me to fill you up with my cum? You’re killing me baby.” His voice was hoarse and he realized his mistake as soon as the words left his lips. The last thing he wanted was to scare you away from him. It was his deeped, darkest secret. He swore he would go to his grave with it. Too often he thought of breeding you, fucking you and fill you up until his cum leaked out of you and you couldn’t move. Too many nights he went to sleep thinking of what it would feel like to wake up with your sweet cunt still wrapped around his cock. What he’d give to ensure not a single drop went to waste. 
Too many days were spent dreaming of giving that little womp rat a sibling to run around with. 
Your silence didn’t go unnoticed by him and he was about to slow down when he felt your hands grab his ass and push you closer to him.
“Want your cum Mando...want you to cum inside me, fill me up until I can’t breathe...oh fuck, until I can’t feel anything but your cum hot and deep inside me. Fuck a baby inside me Mando I- oh oh gods I-” Mando couldn’t hold back anymore, violently pushing his cock inside you and swallowing your moans every time they echoed just a little louder than he preferred. He groaned in ecstasy when he looked down and saw pure bliss etched on your soft features. You clenched around him, thighs vibrating around his hips as he somehow drove into you harder and carried you past the point of pleasure. You didn’t know you were coming around him until you heard him whisper ‘good girl’ in your ears. And it sent a jolt down his spine when he continued to rut against you and fill the ship with the heavy sounds of skin slapping on skin. It was almost painful, the way he didn’t let up and continued to rail into you without a single care. 
“Mine...mine, fucking mine. That’s it sweet girl, feel me. Feel me marking your fucking soul.” He was a mumbling mess at this point and he wasn’t sure if it was because you were panting like an animal in heat or because of the way you desperately licked and kissed and nipped at his neck and lips. 
“Yes, I’m yours Mando. Yours...always have been.”
The heaviness of your words struck his heart instantly, and he shoved his cock so deep inside you he swore he could feel your heartbeat. Mando rested his head in the crook of your neck, biting harder than intended on your shoulder as hot spurts of cum coated your inner walls. You feel a sudden warmth wash over you and dug your nails into his ass as he thrust once, twice, three times before stilling completely. 
The two of you continued to breathe heavily against each other and when Mando moved his knees to get comfortable between your thighs, you unintentionally squeezed his cock and felt him twitch inside you.
“Ni chaabar gar, cyar'ika.” It was such a silent comment and you knew this was much different than everything he’d said thus far. Something about his tone told you he was spilling his heart out and you wished more than anything to ask him what he was saying but knew you shouldn’t...wouldn’t. Not unless you wanted him to continue and speak to you.
You were brought back from your thoughts when the Mandalorian kissed your lips, and you felt yourself drowning in his scent when he rubbed your hair and nudged your jaw with his nose.
“Gar cuyir too jaon'yc at ni. Ni liser't nibral gar.” Slowly, Mando wrapped his arms around you and rolled you over until you were practically sleeping on top of him. The two of you hissed when you felt his cock leave your heat and Mando wished more than anything to spread your thighs and watch as his cum leaked down your thighs. No worries, he’d do that later.
Later…
Oh what he would give for there to be a ‘later’ with you. 
The thought of not being able to have you again snapped him back to reality and he realized there was a very high chance this would never happen again because as far as he knew, this was only a consequence of the pollen.
Not wanting to bother you with his insecurities, Mando pushed your head down onto his chest and rubbed your shoulders, telling you to get some rest and to not worry about anything else. 
Hours later, Mando was waking up to a soft noise emitting from beneath him. As he rubbed his eyes and took in his surroundings, he looked down and noticed you were still very much naked and cold next to him. Pulling the covers over you, he allowed his eyes to feed on your curves before meeting your face. Dread filled his heart as soon as he saw the wet patch on the band around your eyes. 
You must have woken up and realized what happened. A thousand different scenarios flew through his mind and Mando knew that almost each one of them was caused by your regret of sleeping with him. 
“Ad'ika, are you alright?” When you didn’t respond and sniffed loudly, Mando knew he had to brace for the worst. 
“Please...are you hurt anywhere?” Hearing his pleas was what did it for you and you threw yourself into his chest. 
“Mando I- I took advantage of you. I’m so sorry, I- I didn’t know what was happening...I promise I- please don’t tell me to leave. I can’t leave you or the Child. I- I promise I’ll pretend this never happened. Just- don’t leave me. I can’t bear the thought of living without you...without him.”
Of all the things the Mandalorian thought he would hear from you, those were certainly the last to make the list. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky with you? Not only did you refuse to take the blindfold off when you woke up but you genuinely thought you’d forced him into sleeping with you.
“Cyare, it hurts to see you cry. Come here.” Mando sat up against the cold metal wall, pulling you into his lap and wrapping the covers around you so you weren’t exposed to the cold air of the ship. 
“You didn’t take advantage of me sweet girl. If anything, I- I should be the one apologizing. I was not hit with the effects of the pollen as much as you have been and...and I should have refused your pleas. But you looked so beautiful, Cyar'ika. You prayed for me to have you and I- I was selfish. I was selfish and I couldn’t stop myself from sinking into you. Branding you. Being with you.” To say you were surprised by his words would have been the understatement of the century. 
The Mandalorian wanted you. He wanted to have you. He wanted to be with you. 
“I-I’ve wanted you for so long...spent so many nights dreaming of being with you.” You confessed to him before you could think of the meaning behind your words and you were met with a deep sigh and a kiss on the lips almost immediately. 
“How long Mesh'la?” 
“S-since Tatooine.” 
Mando’s heart skipped a beat at the short yet direct response. He’s only ever been to Tatooine once with you, months and months ago when he needed Peli to fix something on the Crest for him. You hadn’t even been with their group for three weeks then. So busy thinking of all the ways he could have had you since then, Mando didn’t notice how the silence affected you until your fingers twitched against his chest. 
“Mando?”
“That was eons ago.” It was more of a comment than a question and you weren’t sure if he was angry or surprised. 
“Is...is that bad?”
“Bad? No Ad'ika, not bad.” When he didn’t offer more of an explanation, you rested your head on his chest and continued to draw circles on his naked abdomen. 
You weren’t sure how long you sat there in each others arms but the faint sounds of cooing and laughter snapped you out of your haze and you realized you should probably get up and make something for the kid to eat. Before you could move away from him however, Mando was bringing you closer to him and kissing you again. You knew you could never tire from feeling his lips mold and pass over yours and you welcomed his tongue with as much vigor as you could muster up.
As he pulled away, you smiled at him and wished more than anything to be able to see him smile back at you. 
“Din.”
“Hmm?”
“My name...it’s Din. Din Djarin.” 
Mando could see the exact moment you registered what he just said and he smirked to himself at how pretty you looked when something shocking took place. 
“Din.” You repeated his name silently, afraid this would all be a dream and that he didn’t actually just tell you something that was so important to him.
“You didn’t have to tell me…” You traced his jaw with your fingers and marveled at how oddly soft his beard was. 
“I didn’t, but I wanted to.” Din was silent for a few seconds before he flipped you beneath him and took hold of your wrists before slamming them harshly above your head. “I wanted you to know it, Mesh'la, so you could scream it the next time I fucked this sweet and tight cunt.” 
For a man of few words, he sure knew what to say to get you worked up again.
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Translations: 
Ni Kelir kyr'amur gar meh gar vaabir not ba'slanar kaysh - I will kill you if you do not leave her.
Ni vaabir not baatir te waadas. - I do not care about the credits.
Gedet'ye. - Please.
Ad'ika - Little one
Ni’duraa! - You disgust me.
Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart
Cyare - Beloved
Gota'la - Maker.
Gar cuyir mesh'la. - You are beautiful. 
K'olar - Come here.
Mesh'la - Beautiful
Ner - Mine.
Ni'm liser't...taylir norac. - I can’t...hold back.
Ni chaabar gar, cyar'ika. - I fear you, darling.
Gar cuyir too jaon'yc at ni. Ni liser't nibral gar. - You are too important to me. I can’t lose you.
3K notes · View notes
buckycuddlebuddy · 9 months ago
Text
𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆
summary ─ he couldn’t say anything. his brain was screaming at him to say something, but his tongue wasn’t cooperating. the lump in his throat wasn’t helpful, either.
pairing ─ fuckboy!bucky barnes x reader
warnings ─ angst, ANGST, implied smut, language, alcohol consumption, reader is drunk, phone calls, emotions are bitch is the short version lol 
a/n ─ henlo, i’m back but without a smut this time because something like this was mandatory lmao hope you like it! please let me know if you do and what you think about this, thank you <333
the (after) party [part one] ─ loft music [part two]
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Bucky frowned deeply as he lifted himself off the bed and ditched the condom. The brief satisfaction and relief came with the sex had already washed away from his body, leaving him with a miserable feeling that he desperately tried to ignore but failed almost all the time.
He reached for his jeans after ditching the condom in the trash he spotted in the bathroom and cleaned himself with a couple wet wipes. His t-shirt was thrown over the chair at the corner of the room, so Bucky walked there to get it. He vaguely remembered his shoes being discarded at some place that was close to the door, but he had to find his socks before he got to his shoes.
“You’re leaving already?” He heard Dot ask. Her voice carried the typical disappointed tone. Bucky nodded instead of answering verbally, his eyes were searching for his socks ─ they were on the ground by her closet. Bending down, he grabbed and put them on. “I thought we could cuddle a bit,” she whined. Bucky barely surpassed his eye-roll. He didn’t like very much when women he had been with whined other than having sex.
“Got things to do,” he murmured distractedly. He checked for his wallet and phone by patting his jacket’s pockets. Both were there, so he only had to get his shoes and he could leave.
“You always say that,” she whined again. Bucky sighed harshly but stayed quiet. He pulled his jacket on and briefly ducked into the bathroom to fix his hair. When he decided that he didn’t look debauched anymore, he walked out.
“Because I have things to do,” he gritted through his teeth. As he walked out of the room, he heard the rustle of the sheets and her soft but stubborn footsteps.
“Can I see you again?” Dot asked, moving in front of him before he could open the front door and sneaked out. “I really had a good time, baby.” She batted her lashes, gave him a sly smirk, mischievous sparks were going off in her eyes. Her hands grabbed front of his jacket, and she lifted herself on her tiptoes; now they were nose to nose. “Like tomorrow? Can I see you then?” Bucky shrugged, making her hands fell from his jacket and he took a step back.
“No,” he said. “One night stand term means one night,” he added, practically hissing. He made a move to the door but froze when he heard her.
“Then why did you fuck Y/N for months?” Dot snarled. “Everybody knew, knew that you fucked her for months and saw her again and again─” Bucky turned his body to her. In a blink, he was in front of her and crowded her against the wall. She looked at him, fear all over her face.
“You’re not her,” Bucky hissed. “You’ll never be her. Talk shit about her like that again, it won’t end pretty for you, baby.” Bucky looked at her for another couple seconds and then stormed out of the apartment.
As he walked down the empty street, his body was strangely cold. His chest was heaving with harsh breaths, his eyes were stinging and he had to blink to clear his sight before he realized that he had fucking tears in his eyes.
He sniffed as he wrapped his jacket around his body and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Shoulder up to his ears, Bucky walked down the street with his eyes stinging from the tears he’s been desperately trying to hold back. He didn’t remember a time where he wanted to cry, where he felt… vulnerable. He didn’t know why he was feeling this way, couldn’t see any reason for it, except─
Bucky sighed. The words he said to Dot filled his mind. Shit, he thought. Dot was so going to tell that to everyone. When Bucky took a moment to think about that, that Dot telling everyone what he said to her, he found himself not giving any flying fucks about it. He didn’t care. She could tell anyone she wanted to, Bucky didn’t care.
Because it was the truth.
Dot was not you, would never be you, not in a million years. It really wouldn’t end pretty for Dot if she were to continue talk shit about you ─ which Bucky assumed Dot was going to because she’d most likely to be jealous now. Good, Bucky thought. Dot was great in bed, Bucky liked how vocal she was and how she told him whatever she wanted at that moment, but she wasn’t a very good person other than that. He could care less.
Bucky took a deep breath. There was a lump sitting in his throat, eyes stinging still, and his nose was burning a bit. He wanted to let go, but he didn’t know how. He never let go before.
Just as he sniffed and blinked a couple times to get rid of the tears, he heard his phone going off in his pocket. Pausing for a second on the sidewalk, he pulled it out only to see your name flashing back at him on his phone screen. Bucky frowned. The worry filled his chest, and whoa, it never happened before, and he accepted the call.
“YN/?” He said, the frown still visible on his face, and his eyes were still teary but there was worry in them, now. “Are you okay?” He didn’t hear anything for a short while. There was no sound, no background noise or your voice ringing in his ear. Frown deepening, Bucky pulled the phone off his face to check if you were still on the line, and you were. “Y/N? Are you there?”
“Why didja hav’to fuck me up like t’at?” You finally said, words slurring. Bucky blinked. Were you drunk? You never slurred unless you were drunk out of your mind.
“Y/N, where are you?” Bucky asked immediately. His mind was going off places where you might be, and some terrible imaginative scenes were playing in his mind. “I’m comin’ to pick you up,” he said. “Where are you, baby?” He didn’t mean to call you that, but it became a habit after all the time he spent with you.
He heard you chuckle adorably in his ear. “I love when you call me that,” you said, making him smile faintly. The worry was still there, though. “Makes me feel like ‘m somethin’ precious.” Bucky swallowed the words ‘it’s because you’re’, only to make the lump sitting on his throat bigger. “Why didja have to do it?”
“What do you mean?” Bucky asked right back. He had no idea what you were talking about and figured if he made you talk, you might tell him where you were. He heard you sniff and some glasses clinking. There was a faint cheering sound on the background. “Baby, where are you?”
“You made me fall in love with you,” you murmured, and it was the most sober you sounded since he picked up. Bucky froze. His somehow already cold body was even colder now, his lungs were rejecting the oxygen and he felt his eyes burning even more. The muscle in his jaw clenched. “I loved you, but you walked away. Why did you do it?”
What could he possibly to say to that?
Because I was scared that I love you, too?
Because I’m a fuck up, and you deserve better?
Because I love you so much, I’d kill for you?
None of the answers would justify what he did, he knew, but goddammit, he was fucking scared. He didn’t want to get hurt again; he went through that heartbreak once and it was enough for him for a lifetime. After that phase of his life, he became cruel to his partners, he knew this, too. He took his pain and anger out of them most of the time, and the thought of he might have fallen in love again was terrifying.  
“You left me behind at that party,” you continued. “I know we broke up way before that─” You cut yourself off with an emotionless laugh that sounded much more like a sob. “Did we even have a relationship, Bucky?” You sounded so upset, so small and sad, all Bucky wanted to do was to reach out to you through his phone and give you a big hug. “I always thought we did, but I knew you never see me in that way. I know I’m not enough.”
Oh, it hurt.
It hurt like motherfucker.
Bucky felt his heart skip a few beats, seizing up in its small cage, as the tears in his eyes finally rolled down his cheeks. The tears burned their way down his frozen face, his tingling nose was a great company to its burn. He couldn’t say anything. His brain was screaming at him to say something, but his tongue wasn’t cooperating. The lump in his throat wasn’t helpful, either.
“I loved how special you made me feel,” you murmured with a small voice, it felt like you were smiling. Sniffing lightly, you continued. “I liked how you got to know me so well. It made me feel like I was being cared for, like someone was finally giving their attention to me fully.”
Bucky tried to swallow the lump so that he could say something, but it didn’t budge. His throat was burning with the urge to scream; tears still rolling down on his cheeks and wetting his face, his body was an ice cube, but your voice warmed him up a bit.
He knew he had to come forward with his feelings, he had to face with them, but he was scared; so scared that it was making him slowly lose the best thing in his life.
“You broke my heart, but I love you anyway,” you whispered. “Why I love you still, Bucky? I don’t want to. It only hurts me more.” Bucky’s chin trembled. You didn’t want to love him, and he made that. He caused that. He hated himself for it. He hated how fucked up he was to make you hate to love someone.
Sniffing, Bucky cleared his throat. “Y/N,” he started. “Where are you?” He heard you sob, more glass clinking and suddenly, all the noise was cut off. “Y/N?” Please, he thought, please tell me where you are, please.
“It hurt me to kick you out the other night,” you said instead. Bucky closed his eyes, sending another wave of tears down his cheeks. “All I wanted to do was to snuggle with you like we used to, but that night at the party… You hurt me so much, James.”
Fuck, Bucky forgot how much heartbreak could hurt him, how much pain it had brought with itself. His heart was skipping beats, his body felt cold and strange to him, his hands were trembling and his eyes kept producing more tears.
Bucky was hurting. He was hurting so much.
He hated himself for being a coward.
“Y/N,” Bucky said. “I’m begging you, please, please, tell me where you are, baby. Please.” He listened to your sniffs and soft sobs for a minute. He waited patiently for you to answer him. His head was buzzing, a headache was slowly tearing its way through, his eyes were hurting from all the silent crying he was doing and he was cold.
He craved your hug. They always made him feel warm.
“Transviolet,” you whispered. “I don’t wanna see you, though. Just makes me wanna cry.” Bucky sighed. He knew where you were now, and even though it was going to hurt you to see him, he had to make sure that you were alright and safe. Taking a deep breath, Bucky looked around. Surprisingly, he was very close to Transviolet.
“Five minutes, baby,” he said. “I know you don’t wanna see me, but I wanna make sure you’re alright. Don’t go anywhere, okay?” Bucky quickly crossed the street, using his long legs to his advantage; he started to take big steps, almost running. “Stay with me. Stay on the phone.” He heard your soft hum of approval.
“Dunno if I ever stop,” you murmured when he round the corner to the street that led to the bar you were waiting for him.
“Stop what, honey?” Bucky kept the conversation going, he had to. He couldn’t let you go non-verbal on him while you were this drunk. You could go as much non-verbal as you wanted to when he was near you.
“Loving you,” you answered him, and Bucky stumbled over his next step. All this time, Bucky somehow always knew that you were in love with him, but hearing it was a total different experience. He didn’t know hearing it could get addictive, though, it was new.
Clearing his throat lightly, Bucky carefully voiced his words: “Do you want to? Truly, I mean.” You hummed. Bucky started walking again, and he could actually see the sign: Neon purple color was winking at him in the middle of the night. His feet quickened their pace.
“No,” you murmured. “But I should.” Bucky felt his heart break into the nth piece with your words, but he deserved them. He deserved to hear those words, but he did not deserve you. He sighed. “You hurt me so much, but make me feel like I’m someone who can be loved. It’s weird.” Bucky faintly smiled at your whiny voice.
“Is it?” He said, just to keep you talking. He was so close now, and he could actually see you standing in front of the bar. You were against the wall, arms folded against your chest, and you were trembling slightly. Bucky frowned. “I’m almost there, honey,” he murmured. You hummed again. Looking around, Bucky started running towards you when he didn’t see any cars on the street. His arms were itching to wrap around you.
Bucky ended the call when he stepped onto the sidewalk you were standing on. You lifted your head and looked at him a little sleepily. “Hey there, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered. You smiled widely. Bucky smiled at you right back. Scooping you up in his arms, he held you against him tightly. “Let’s get you home, alright?” You nodded, leaning into his touch. He called an Uber while never releasing his hold on you. You probably had your coat and bag inside, and he had to get you your coat, you were freezing. “C’mon,” he murmured as he led you inside. You shivered when the warm atmosphere of the bar hit your frozen body.
Quickly finding your bag and coat, Bucky put them on you but slung your bag over his shoulder. You were leaning into him fully, now, totally taking advantage of his newly renewed body heat. Your hair smelled like your shampoo, and Bucky felt tears collecting in his eyes again. He blinked them away. To distract himself, he pulled out his phone and opened his group chat with his friends.
what would y’all say if i were to tell you that i’m in love? pls answer honestly, he pressed sent and saw Steve and Sam writing their responses.
i would say you’re bullshitting me, Sam said, and Bucky rolled his eyes. you don’t love, barnes, he added.
ditto, Steve sent. you only make them fall in love and just walk away. that’s your brand, pal. Bucky felt the hurt poking him harshly again, and he closed his eyes for a second, focusing on your sweet scent to calm himself down. His phone pinged. It was Clint and Loki.
you usually just fuck them, man, you don’t love, Clint said. Ouch, Bucky thought.
sometimes you drive them to the brink of suicide, too, Loki sent, and Bucky clenched his jaw. He could see Steve, Sam and Clint objecting immediately, but it was true. It had happened once. Biting his lip, Bucky wrote a reply with shaky hands.
i do, though. i really love her, he sent. The other immediately started writing something back. i’d die for her, y’know. i really would. The ‘writing’ thing disappeared. Bucky heard a honk and looked outside. gotta go, he sent quickly and locked his phone.
“Come on, honey,” he murmured softly to you, and you whined. “Home, love, we’re going home.” You looked up at him, sleepy expression all over your face. Bucky smiled. His fingers fixed your hair with gentle moves. You closed your eyes and nuzzled his hand when it cradled your cheek.
“Mmm,” you purred adorably. “Love you,” you whispered. Bucky surpassed the soft whimper that almost crawled out of his mouth. Instead he kissed your forehead and led you to the Uber waiting for you guys outside.
Once inside the car, Bucky cuddled you against his body. Your sweet scent filling up his lungs, body next to his, he relaxed a little. You were almost asleep when he whispered: “I love you, too.”
You just hummed, burying your face into the crook of his neck while holding onto him tightly. Bucky placed another kiss on your forehead and rested his cheek on your hair.
Then, Bucky took a deep, deep, breath and let go. He let the hurt and tears mix as he cried and cried silently all the while holding you against his chest, cradling you in his arms as if you were something precious.
“I love you so much, too,” he whispered again just because he could and buried a soft sob into your hair.
It hurt so much, the pain was leaving him breathless most of the time, but Bucky was used to it.
He had been used to it for a long time. He could handle it like he did before. 
He just wasn’t sure if this time he would be able to survive it. 
1K notes · View notes
gubler-me-up · 10 months ago
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Glutton for Punishment (MGG Request)
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Request: smut request for matthew gray gubler! you keep sending matthew teasing texts and pictures all day while he is at work. he can’t leave set and you know it. you also know you are in for it when he does get home. when he is on his way home he texts you “i want you in my favorite lavender lingerie set waiting for me on the bed. you touch yourself and you make it worse on yourself.” of course you being you, you touch yourself. he comes in and sees and goes feral. you bends you over his knee and spanks you, makes you count and thank him for every spank, edges you with everything, his mouth, fingers, vibrators, anything he deems fit. once he lets you cum he doesn’t let you stop says “you just begged me to let you cum and now it’s to much?” he degrades you and absolutely ruins you. when he’s fucking you and makes you cum for the last time you come so hard you squirt. he’s so turned on and proud of you. then aftercare is a ten out of ten. maybe you have a bit of subdrop. you get really clingy, and he gives you a bath n cuddles you. he tells you how proud he is. promises that tomorrow is a cuddle day w your favorite movies and all the snacks you want.
A/N: Thank you for the request, anon! Imma keep this lil message nice and short by saying sorry this took so long to write. Literally had a rough two weeks but we move. Hope this honours your request to a T! Happy reading!
Couple: Dom!MGG x Sub Fem!reader
Category: Smut (NSFW 18+)
Content warning: Penetrative sex, unprotected sex, spanking, edging, degradation, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), sex toys, rough sex, squirting, creampie, praising, aftercare, overstimulation 
Word count: 4k
——————–
You hit send on the latest nude you had taken of yourself for the day. You had sent Matthew about ten extensively different ones throughout the day with little teasing messages to pair with them. You made sure to start the nudes with tame poses in front of the bathroom mirror and slowly increased the poses to risky, suggestive moves.
The more suggestive the pose, the riskier the texts you would send. You teased him with seductive and suggestive language that could make anyone’s blood rise. You told him how you would be his sex kitten for the rest of the day if he came home early. You described in great detail the length you would go to satisfy him. Anything and everything.
You knew how much he hated when you teased him while he was on set. He valued separating pleasure and work so seducing him via text messages was a big no in his book but you were never one to care. You loved pushing your boundaries with him to see what he would do. You wanted to feel his wrath when he got him because of your naughty, disobedient ways.
You checked the time on your phone and saw it was nearly time for him to wrap up his scene for the afternoon. You smiled to yourself as you walked out of the washroom to go downstairs to get a quick snack to eat. You had a feeling you would have a long few hours ahead of you. You could already imagine how soar your ass would be after he was done spanking you for misbehaving or how tired your mouth would be from him fucking your mouth. The thought of these two things alone started to soak your panties.
You grabbed yourself a bowl of cereal to pass the time by. You selected a good show on Netflix to watch while you ate to consume your brain’s capacity with something other than the thought of Matthew railing you. Your brain couldn’t let it go. You decided it would be best to put on Criminal Minds to get a glimpse of his beautiful face before he got home.
Halfway through your cereal, you heard your phone vibrate against the table. You eagerly picked it up because you knew who it was messaging you. You looked at your lock screen to see you had a message from Matthew. You quickly swiped it open to reveal his message for you.
I want you in my favourite lavender lingerie set waiting for me on the bed. You touch yourself and you make it worse on yourself.
You held your phone close to your mouth as you let out a high pitch squeal filled with excitement. You closed your laptop mid-episode and shot up from your seat. You didn’t even think of finishing your cereal as the adrenaline and lust ran through your veins.
You nearly sprinted up the stairs as you went to go get ready for his arrival. You wanted to make sure you were prepped and ready for his arrival. Before you even entered the bedroom, you started to strip your clothes off. You pulled off your shirt and then unhooked your bra. You threw them both to the floor as you entered the bedroom and made a B-line to the bathroom. You frantically took off your shorts to hop into the shower as fast as you could. You knew it wouldn’t take him long to get home from set so it had to be a quick shower and get yourself extra pretty for him.
The time you turned on the water, hopped in, lathered yourself, washed yourself off, and jumped out of the shower, less than 10 minutes went by. You didn’t want to waste time having a thorough shower because you knew you would take another shower after to wash all the cum and sweat off of you.
You grabbed your towel off the rack and dried yourself off quickly before throwing the towel on the bathroom counter. You lotioned yourself and put on deodorant. You made sure to do a double coat of deodorant because you knew he’d make you sweat extra hard. You went into the bedroom to pull out the lavender lingerie he had requested you to wear.
You went to the Chester drawer and kneeled to open the bottom drawer. It was your exclusive drawer to place all your lingerie, sex toys, lubricant, and bondage supplies. You rummaged through some other pieces of lingerie before pulling out his favourite lavender lingerie set. You smirked to yourself as you touched the fabric and you could just imagine him touching you immediately as he saw you.
You stood up to get yourself dressed for him. You placed the panties in-between your thighs to hook your bra. You pulled the straps up and made sure your breasts looked plump and juicy. You then grabbed the panties from in-between your thighs and slid them on.
You walked to the mirror to check yourself out from top to bottom. Your breasts were looking right and when you turned around, your ass looked even better. The panty to the set had the bottom cut out so your pussy and ass were out with nothing restraining them. The colour of the lingerie wasn’t the only thing Matthew loved about it.
You strolled over to the beaded crawled your way onto the bed to lay yourself out. You laid on your back, relaxed your muscles, and waited. You looked over to the nightstand to grab your phone just to realize you left it in the bathroom. You let out a huge sigh but didn’t bother to get up. Your muscles had already relaxed into the bed. It was up to your brain to entertain you in the meantime.
You closed your eyes to let your mind find something to think about. Obviously, your brain went straight to the last time Matthew fucked you. He had you bent over the kitchen tables with your hands behind your back, railing the shit out of you. You don’t think you screamed like that for a long while.
You thought you might as well do something with this memory. You caressed one of your hands on your breast and your other hand made its way to your clit. You started circling your clit as you thought about him telling you how good your wet pussy felt on his dick. How your pussy was practically begging him to cum in you multiple times.
You started to moan as you circled your clit faster as you started to think of him cumming in you. He made sure to fuck his cum into you so not a single drop would come out. He then pulled out of you, grabbed your hair, and brought you to your knees so you could lick his dick clean like the nasty whore you were. You would suck his dick all day if you could.
“You filthy slut.”
You shot open your eyes and turned towards the bedroom door to see Matthew standing there with clear rage on his face. You knew he was upset about you touching yourself even though he warned you not to but how could you resist when you had such a vivid memory in your mind. Besides, having him all riled up meant that you were in for double the punishment which excited you. It was even more exciting to think about because he doesn’t hold back.
Without saying anything else, he marched up to you and grabbed you by your jaw to bring you up towards his face. You saw how his eyes were glazed over by passionate fury which made you automatically become wetter. He didn’t even dare utter a word to you. He just wanted you to see he was now taking over control and you had to pay for your inappropriate actions.
“On your stomach. Now,” he demanded as he pushed your face away.
You flipped over onto your stomach and he didn’t wait for a second to drag you by the leg to the end of the bed. He then grabbed you by your hips to lift you slightly to slide his knee under your hips. You gasped as you felt him squeeze your ass aggressively. As soon as he heard you let out a sound, he spanked you with the same amount of aggression. You knew he wound up his hand before putting his whole force into it.
“What do you say when I spank you?” He asked as he spanked you again.
“Thank you, sir,” you yelped.
“Fucking count them too,” he demanded as he spanked you again.
“Two,” you yelled.
“Why can’t you be this obedient regularly?” He asked as he spanked you again.
“Four. I was too horny, sir. Thank you, sir,” you yelped.
He spanked your ass five times in a row as a response to your response. You just would have yelped out the number of each time he spanked you in response but you continued to thank him for punishing you as well. You did deserve it for disobeying so you took them as they came.
He spanked you again. “Whose fault is it for you being so horny?”
“Ten. My own, sir. Thank you, sir,” you yelped.
He spanked you again. “I’m going to make you wish you were more obedient.”
“Eleven. Please do, sir. I’ve been so bad,” you yelped.
He stopped spanking your ass which gave you a second to release a huge sigh. You felt your ass cheek pulsing from all eleven, harsh spanks he had given you. You just knew you wouldn’t be able to sit on your ass properly for a couple of days.
You soon felt his fingers rubbing up and down your folds with ease since you were already soaking wet. His fingers slipped up to your clit and didn’t shy away from vigorously circle it. You gripped the sheets and curled your toes. You bit your lip to stop from uttering a scream or a pathetic yelp because you wanted to cum. You wanted to cum so badly and you could feel it travelling throughout your body the more he rubbed your clit.
“I know you’re fucking whore pussy likes this. I can feel you quivering like a whore,” he said.
He then took the liberty to stick two fingers inside of you. You silently whimpered as he rapidly pumped his fingers in and out of you. What made you scream though was when he stuck another finger in you. He pumped in and out of you slower but his three fingers in you felt like the girth of his dick in you.
He reached up into your pussy to get to your g-spot and stroked it mercilessly. You couldn’t even control how your legs moved anymore as they shook freely under his touch. Your hands started to sweat and you could barely say words, you could only yelp out little ‘fuck’s’ here and there.
As soon as you started to get into the rhythm and felt your tingling orgasm run through your body, he pulled out his fingers. He pushed you off his knee and you landed on your back. He took his foot off of the bed to position himself in front of you. You were about to prop yourself up to see what he was going to do next but he grabbed your calves to forcefully pull you forward to the edge of the bed. He pushed your legs back to the point where your feet were nearly next to your ears.
“Hold your fucking legs,” he demanded.
“Yes, sir,” you said.
You gripped your calves to hold your legs in place. He glared down at your pussy as if it was his prey of the day. He kneeled in front of you to get ready for the attack. He used his thumb to rapidly flick your clit back and forth before going in with his tongue between your folds.
“Oh my God,” you whimpered.
You couldn’t stop repeating that to yourself as his tongues fondled your folds and dipped into your holes as his thumb didn’t let up on your clit. All three different motions got you closer and closer to the edge of having your official orgasm. You arched your back as you felt deeper into his tongue.
He then switched it on you. He moved his thumb away from your clit and traded it for his tongue. He then stuck two fingers into you to get back to your g-spot. You screamed out of pleasure as you could feel him pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
And then he stopped.
He pulled his fingers out of you and got up from his kneeling position. You couldn’t help being a complainer. You groaned out of annoyance which wasn’t out of his earshot. He leaned down to grab you by the neck as he hovered over you with his eyes piercing down to your soul.
“Don’t fucking complain about something you begged for,” he hissed.
“Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again,” you whispered.
He slapped you on the cheek. “That’s what I fucking thought. Don’t move your legs.”
He leaned up from you. You saw him walk away from in front of you towards the Chester drawer. He kneeled and opened the bottom drawer. Your heart was already racing and your breathing was extremely uneven from all the sike out orgasms that you couldn’t even imagine what he had planned for you next. The possibilities were endless in that drawer.
He could easily use handcuffs to restrain you and fuck you senseless. He could tease you with a dildo to deprive you of his dick for a while longer. He could use a vibrator to send more vibrations through your body to match the tingling of your standby orgasm.
You looked as he didn’t take the time to rummage through the different toys. He took one out as if it was the exact one he wanted to use on you. He hid it from your direct sight but you could hear it was a vibrator. You heard the vibrations loud and clear as he approached you closer.
“Close your eyes,” he demanded.
You closed your eyes. As fast as you closed them, you shot them open as soon as you felt the tip of your biggest rabbit vibrator at your hole entrance. He didn’t waste time teasing you any longer with the tip of the vibrator. You were definitely wet enough for him to slip it inside you with ease. You moaned and arched your back as soon as you felt the vibrations rattle you. The bunny ears made you feel an extra level of tingling. He pumped it in and out of you slowly so the vibrations wouldn’t get lost in the motion.
“Your whore pussy just takes anything, huh? Can’t help itself,” he said.
“Anything you put it in, sir,” you whimpered.
“Impatient and greedy? I don’t think a whore like you deserves to cum because of that,” he said.
“No, please. I won’t be impatient or greedy again, sir,” you begged.
“This isn’t the first time I’ve caught you being an impatient whore,” he said.
“But I…promise i-it won’t happen…again. I promise, I promise, I promise,” you yelped.
He stopped pumping the vibrator in and out of you. He left it in there as he looked at you. It looked as if he was contemplating your plea. He knew the longer he left the vibrator in you, the quicker your orgasm would come through faster but it was up to him to decide whether you could orgasm or not.
He narrowed his eyes as he continued to contemplate. You knew he could see how desperate your face looked as you were breathing irregularly and could barely form a proper sentence. He started to pump the vibrator in and out of you again.
“Go ahead.”
Your hands slipped off of your calves and your legs fell onto the bed. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you arched your back. You gasped a high-pitched, out-of-breath yelp as your body shook as your orgasm taking over.
He took the vibrator out of you and threw it next to you on the bed. You relaxed your body onto the bed as you tried to stable your breathing. You felt as if you had the best out-of-body experience of your life. You closed your eyes as you let the last bit of your orgasm leave your body and bring you back down to earth.
“Turn around,” he demanded.
You opened your eyes to see Matthew undoing his pants. You thought he wasn’t going to fuck you at all because you touched yourself. He pulled down his pants along with his underwear to expose his huge boner ready to fuck the shit out of you.
You slowly turned around but he sped up the process for you. Once you turned halfway around. He pushed you down and pulled you back so your feet on the ground. You felt him immediately shove his dick into you and you instantly shrieked at the feeling of his whole dick on you.
He kept pulling you back and forth on and off his dick. He made sure he was making you do most of the work by forcing you to do all the work. He wanted your pussy to go through the waves more than you could handle. It didn’t help you were still limp and shaken from your orgasm. You felt like a calf trying to stand for the first time.
You subtly tried to move forward to make the impact of his dick lighter. Usually, you could take his whole dick with no issue and with great pleasure but just having an orgasm made everything feel extra sensitive. You knew if he kept his motion up you were bound to have another, more violent orgasm.
You inching forward didn’t slip by him though. He pulled you back and kept his whole dick in you as he held you in place. You gasped at the feeling of his dick sitting deep inside of you.
“You just begged me to let you cum and now it’s too much?” He asked.
“It’s not,” you whimpered.
“Then take my fucking dick like a whore,” he hissed.
He then went back to fucking you at a more rapid pace. He made sure he didn’t just give him some of his dick anymore, he let you have all of it. He would let you feel every inch by holding it in place from time to time. You could feel another orgasm coming around again. You were barely over the first one so the second one creeping around quick wasn’t a surprise.
You laid yourself out on the bed as you just let him take you. The orgasm tingling through your body as his dick ramming into you felt like the perfect motions intertwining. You bit your bottom lip as you didn’t want to make a sound to give him any indication that you were about to orgasm.
You did a little inside gasp as you gripped the sheets. You felt yourself orgasm and squirt from the sheer force of your orgasm. You felt yourself tense up as you buried your head into the sheet as you let it ride out.
“Oh shit,” he groaned.
You knew he had felt you squirt because when you would squirt, you would squirt hard. His hand moved from your hip to run down your wet leg. His hand caressing your thigh felt so sensual to you. It seemed as if he was excited to feel your juices all on your thigh. You wouldn’t be surprised if there was some on his legs too.
You then heard him groan as you felt him cum inside of you. It felt extra good to feel his cum inside of you after he had been teasing you for so long. Having two orgasms in a row made his cum feel emphasized inside of you.
He pulled out of you and you heard him pulling up his pants. You laid there as you could hear him walk away into the washroom. You couldn’t even fathom moving an inch of your muscles but you missed having his hand on you. Even though he wasn’t too far away, he had his hands all over you for so long that it felt strange his hands weren’t on you anymore.
He didn’t leave you hanging for long because he came back in no time. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you up so he could wrap his arms around you. You grabbed his forearms tightly so he couldn’t move away from you again. You wanted to stay in that position forever, having your back against his chest with him kissing down your neck.
“You might be an impatient whore sometimes but I couldn’t be any more proud of you for handling so much. Having two orgasms in a row and even squirting,” he praised.
“It’s all for you, sir,” you said as you fully fell into his touch more.
“I’ve ran a bath for you to loosen your sore muscles,” he said.
He then moved his hands from around your waist but you pulled them back around you. You looked at him and shook his head as you leaned back on him. You needed to be close to him for a little longer. You just needed to be cuddled up next to him.
“You want cuddles, don’t you?” He asked.
You nodded without saying anything. You knew he understood and he confirmed it by kissing your neck again. He squeezed you tighter so you were close to him even more.
“I promise to give you all the cuddles after your bath. I can even hold your hand while you lay in the bath if you’d like,” he said.
“I’d love that,” you whispered.
“Okay, baby. Let’s go,” he said.
He unwrapped his arms from around you but made sure to grab your hand immediately to make sure you still had physical contact. You smiled to yourself as he escorted you to the washroom. You instantly smelled your favourite lavender bubble bath scent and saw the bubble lusciously floating in the water in the tub.
He went behind you and unhooked your bra for you. He then caressed his hands down the side of your body as he kissed down your back. His hands hooked onto your panties and dragged them down your legs. He caressed his hands up your legs until he reached your waist and was standing straight up again.
You then felt him softly grab your hand as you saw him step to your side. He walked towards the tub and you followed right next to him. You stepped one foot into the tub as he made sure to keep you balanced by tightly gripping your hand. The water temperature was perfect for you so you stepped the next foot into the water. He helped you lower yourself into the water until you were comfortable in your bath.
He pulled up a stool that was nearby without letting go of your hand. You smiled at him as he wouldn’t let you go for one minute. He knew it meant a lot to you for him to be holding you close like this after sex especially when he was rough with you. You loved feeling his soft side for you come out after.
“I have the day off tomorrow. I think we should have a you day tomorrow,” he suggested.
“What would that consist of exactly?” You asked.
“Well, since you made me so proud today I think it’s safe to say we can watch your favourite movies and eat all your favourite snacks stashed in the kitchen pantry. Maybe even UberEats dinner,” he said.
You giggled. “We could make dinner instead.”
He kissed your hand. “I’m lazy and I want you to relax.”
“Fair enough but until tomorrow, I think we should cuddle up after this bath.”
“Of course.”
—–
MASTERLIST
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charnelhouse · 10 months ago
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Brand You in the Way it Counts
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Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader
Rating: 18+, Explicit
Wordcount: +3K
Summary: You get coated in sex pollen. The Mandalorian takes care of you.
Warnings: Pre-Episode 1, mildly dubious consent, sex pollen, rough sex, outdoor sex, protective/frazzled Din
A/N: I honestly have the reader/Din from i’ve flown too close to the sun series in mind for this, but it works alone too bc really it’s just porn w/o plot
“We need to get back to the ship. We need to get back to the ship right fucking now.”
There’s grit in Mando’s voice - teeth grinding together as his jaw overworks.
At least - that’s how you imagine he must look - standing there with his feet spread and his shoulders bunched.
He storms toward you before grabbing your arm - a brutal yank as you trip over yourself, stumbling on your unsteady feet. Something is shattering inside you - your belly turning over. There’s pain - unmistakable cramping - beginning to blister its way between your legs.
What the fuck?
Mando is spinning you around - his leather gloves cupping your face. He sounds strained. “Hey, hey! Look at me - focus. We just got doused in a biological weapon - one I haven’t seen in a really long time and we need to get back to the ship.”
Weapon? What weapon?
You sniff and a cloud of pink swells with your breath - it coats Mando’s visor - swirls and floats and disintegrates into the air. Your head feels soft - distant - there is something sour on your tongue. Your skin is burning.
They’d gone to Felucia to track a smuggler. They’d been traveling for miles - cautious of the fungal life-forms - the immense, violent-looking plants. You’d been so overheated - the humidity nearly unbearable as Mando dragged you across the bizarre, multi-colored jungle. There’d been a flower - a hothouse bloom - blue as desert sky - hanging from a translucent branch. It sang in the fetid breeze - it rained pink glitter and you had brushed it with your hand because it had called to you. Then it exploded.
Oh - that weapon. 
There’s an itch at the knot of your spine. Sweat springs across your forehead - your chest - begins to drip down your underarms and the back of your neck. You knew a little about biological weapons or organisms that promoted copulation - it made you want to breed - it made you crave and ache and - it made you feel like you were going to die.
“Mando,” you whisper as your fingers touch your mouth - your lips swell as if they’re about to burst. Mando’s hands tighten around your cheeks - drop to your jaw - his helmets tilting down to look at you. You can hear his heart - hear the wild, patter of it in the cage of his chest.
“I-fuck - the ship,” he stammers before his words slide and slip together - reach the point of a near-slur. “The ship, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. 
It’s a balm - fresh milk dousing your molten skin as your cunt clenches around nothing. You’d fucked Mando a few times - moments of aggression requiring release. They were both adults and bounty hunters and they needed things and sometimes those things were rather intense sex sessions. But Mando didn’t use terms of endearment - he touched you like he was dying, but he didn’t sugar the names he gave you.
“Ship’s too far,” You lean forward - press your face against his cuirass. You slide it along the blessedly cool Beskar. You could sleep here - you could close your eyes and bake in this untamed heat while Mando’s cold armor touched you.
“I can’t - shit - I can’t just fuck you against a tree like some dirty - some filthy - “
You wrap your arms around his neck - rocking yourself against him without shame or dignity or anything because your insides are coiling - slithering - and there’s a liquid between your thighs and your tight pants have gone sticky. This is a fucking joke. This is so fucking humiliating.
I don’t care.
“Help me,” you whimper - tears springing forth. “Fuck - I need you to help me.”
He snaps - the fight in him disappearing as soon as you begged.
“Okay,” he exhales. “Yeah - okay.”
He’s scared for you. The thought cracks open in your skull - a new, inviting idea. He doesn’t like to see you in pain. And then the thought is gone - going to wash - leaking out as something primal begins to consume you.
He lifts you up, carrying you backward - straight into the uneven bark of a tree. He’s got his thick thigh between your legs - his gloves sliding across your skin - fingers yanking at the zipper of your vest. He twists the sensitive, aching flesh of your nipples as he grinds himself hard against you - against the swollen, aching center of your mound.
“Does that feel good?” he grunts. “I’m sorry - I’m sorry. It’s - it’s all I can do right now.”
They are still outside - still vulnerable and bare in the open. He moves his hand down your stomach and the leather is rough - a good rough - but you don’t want fucking leather - you want him - and his naked, warm touch.
“No glove,” you plead and he nods.
“Okay,” he answers - his helmet nosing at your throat. “Alright.”
He’s so damn easy right now - so willing - allowing you whatever you ask for.
He tugs his glove off and tosses it behind him before slipping his broad, handsome hand down the front of your pants and you hear when he makes contact - when his knuckles rock against the slick seam of your pussy.
“Maker,” he growls. “You’re so fucking wet, sweet girl.”
Every touch is medicine - ointment across the peeled-free nerves that is your skin - your aching cunt - the soft tissue of your lips. Your fingers are digging into the pauldrons of his armor. You’re making absurd noises - moaning like an animal in heat - crying out as he pinches the inflated nub at the apex of your sex. He tucks his helmet over your shoulder as he buries you into the damn tree - your back now scraped to ruin.
“C’mon,” he urges. “Come for me. I know it fucking hurts. I know it.”
You do - you burst open from the simple graze of his fingertips over your clit. You shake in his arms as he shoves the trunk of his thigh between your legs - dry humping you into oblivion. You can feel just how hard he is - feel his cloth-covered cock prod into the tender flesh of your cunt. His rhythm is feral - it’s brutal and frantic and - exactly what you need.
He brushes your hair back - runs his thumb over your lower lip in the imitation of a kiss.
“Is that enough?” he asks. “Is that enough for now? Can you get back to the ship? I can take care of you there...can really take care of you.”
No. It’s not enough. It’ll never be enough and the pollen is only escalating the real, true depth of your feelings for him. It’s not just lust - it’s not just release - it’s Mando.
He rubs himself against your body - your bones and blood and organs snapped up in a bind. You’re too high - too riled up - a rope pulled tight on the verge of being released into nothing.
He acknowledges your silence - your lack of an answer.
Not yet. Not yet. Not back to the ship just yet. 
His visor slides across your face and you can almost sense his eyes - his expression - his concern. You bet the pupils are dark - you bet they’re endless. He keeps his hand in place before scissoring two fingers inside you - crooking them so that they can rub against something patchy and deep.
“I’ll give you one more,” he mutters - quavering minutely. “I’ll get you off. I’ll do it, but then we need to go. I really really mean it, pretty. We can’t - I can’t - fuck you here.”
You mewl like a loth- cat, bearing down on his leg as he ruts up into you. They’re basically fucking. He’s not inside you, but he’s got one hand on your ass and the other rooted in your cunt and each thrust of his hips is punching you up the tree.
“Mando,” you plead. “Fuck.”
You don’t know what you’re asking for - you don’t know anything at all, but the hot scramble of your brain that’s jumbled to bits and pieces. He’s pulling your climax from you - thumb rubbing your clit in tight, short circles as you shudder.
“I know,’ he rasps. “I know. It’s okay - just - just try to relax. Be good for me.”
The fog clears - your walls clamp down hard around his knuckles, which in turn seems to set him off - makes him groan like a low, pitchy beast.
And somewhere in there - somewhere between him railing you into this tree with his armor on and his apparent care for your well-being - you want to confess that this isn’t - this isn’t - just sex. 
It’s never been like this before.
You’ve fucked boys - you’ve gotten off with other people and yet this is so fucking new and different and maybe, perhaps - special?
The words are on your tongue - climbing up your throat as your orgasm begins to crest and peak and burn before they just slip away - depart in a gust of pheromones and streaky pollen and you find yourself just crying out Mando as he answers you with a sharp stroke and you’re coming - exploding around him as he catches that sweet spot locked deep.
He gasps - the great weight of him stuttering to a full stop as he holds you against the tree - your boots hooked over his ass. His cock seemingly softening in his pants.
Your eyes widen - the haze momentarily dissipating. “Did you just?”
He snarls something unintelligible - pulling his wet fingers from your cunt before gently releasing you to your feet.
“Ship,” he bites out. “Ship. Now.”
***
Din can’t quite believe it. He just - he just came in his damn pants as he finger-fucked you.
Like a boy - like when he’d been a hormonal teenager stroking himself in his bunk. Intimacy and sex and pleasure had been a foreign thing - a bizarre element that simply didn’t fit into the culture of the Mandalore, but he still did it because it felt good.
He’d managed to get you back to the ship, at least.
“I think,” you warble as you pull at your clothes. “I think that - that walking made it travel through my blood faster - my heart feels like it’s gonna blow up - oh fuck it’s coming back.”
Every sound out of your mouth is broken - desperate and feminine like the ting of thin glass.
“Get on the bed,” he orders quietly. He’d need the lights off if he was going to do this right and luckily the world of Felucia had gone dark. The galaxy had slipped from a blush, flame orange to a solid, tranquil navy spattered with white stars. He’d barely noticed - too focused on the uncomfortable wet spot in his pants and how hot your wrist felt in his grip.
You were in bad shape. He’d gotten a whiff of it - a tiny amount had spread beneath the edge of his helmet - but not enough to make him completely out of control. You’d been bathed in it.
He closes the gangway - activating the ground security protocols. The smell of blooms and primitive vegetation wafts through the thick metal walls of the Crest. It’s heady - virulent - sickly sweet.
He turns back to you and you’re spread out on his bed - hair soft and touched by the dim yellow lights of the hull. You’re naked and Mando inhales sharply at the sight of your swollen tits - red, bitten-through lips - your perfect cunt that is glossed in your slick. Fuck you’re wet - he can see it all over - glimmering over your thighs and belly and hips.
You press the back of your hand to your eyes - hissing as another cramp tears through you. “Mando,” you moan. “I - I hate to be really needy right now, but I’m pretty sure it’s getting worse.”
He clenches his jaw. His desire for you had gotten out of hand. They were fucking and that arrangement had had clear clean boundaries. 
You. Me. Stress relief.
And the whole damn time - Din knew - instinctively he knew - that it was more than that - that you were too lovely and too good at killing for him to not only want you as a friend in his bed.
You made him laugh due to your dry, sarcastic delivery in the most inappropriate situations. You got him hard nearly every minute of the day by just being - hair tossed over your shoulder as you studied a target - as you flipped your blaster and managed to get a shot that was seemingly impossible even for him. You gave him absolutely nothing when it came to your past - your homeworld - your anything.
That was fine because it’s not like he was an open book. You didn’t ask questions and neither did he and all that was left was their shared enthusiasm for hunting and being ridiculously good at it.
Also - being really fucking well-matched when it came to sex.
“Mando,” you call out - shaky and weak. It’s so unlike you - so tremulous that Din feels his heart clench. It was his fucking fault that this happened to you - for taking you to this planet without warning you or being more cautious.
He flips the lights - divesting himself of his armor - letting it just clatter across the floor as he strides toward you. He lowers himself next to you and he can feel how warm you are - heat radiating off your body like a fired blaster-cannon.
“It hurts,” You touch his chest - hand fanning out across the plane of his pectoral - catching through the dark, short hair. “It hurts so much.”
Maker. You sounded sick.
He was used to your confidence - the smug roll of your hips as you walked in front of him. You spoke like smoke - like every word ached and spilled forth like syrup. Your voice drove him insane just like every other part of you did.
He really was a teenager with a crush - an obsession - a disturbing infatuation that was inappropriate for someone like him. 
He scoots closer to you - brushing your hair off your forehead, combing it behind your ears. You’re trembling - your skin slippery with muggy sweat. He places his hand on your inner thigh - the smell of you - the salt - it’s overwhelming and he’s hard again - his cock bouncing against his stomach.
“Spread your legs wider,” he urges. You do immediately as you cling to his shoulder in a bruising grip. He flinches - sometimes he forgets how strong you are. “Good girl.”
He touches your pussy - runs his fingertip through the soaked folds before slipping a digit in. You’re so sensitive that you jump almost immediately - your mouth parting in a shuttered gasp. 
“You’re okay,” he says. “Just relax into it.”
He continues - one then two then three fingers as your walls convulse around him - swallow him with ease. He curls his thumb to flick at the tiny ball of flesh at the crux. You angle your body towards him - eyes shutting - the sweep of your dark lashes over the apples of your cheeks that he can just make out in the dim light.
You are alarmingly beautiful. The kind of beauty that hurts to look at - like staring blankly into the sun and Mando is grateful for his helmet - grateful to be hidden - because he knows that he wouldn’t be able to fix the blatant longing on his face every time you stepped into a room and smiled.
“That feel good?” he asks - softly - quietly - the ship full of red-black light - everything gone to smudged shadows. The hull is almost a womb - a fever dream that smells of your cunt and your perfumed hair.
He feels you come - feels you choke his fingers as your nails dig into his muscles. He wants you to mark him up - wants you to leave him battered and painted in your colors. He wants you to brand him because he does not know how to possess you - how to keep you close and only his. He figures that it could go the other way - that you could own him and maybe - maybe - that would lead to all the rest.
He catches your chin to slide his mouth over yours - tongue tangling as his cock bobs against your thigh. He moves between your legs - using his hips to spread you - using his forearms to frame your head.
You’ve dissolved into senselessness - to broken words and cries and promises.
“Mando - please - fuck me,” you pant against his mouth. “Please - I’ll blow you. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
He doesn’t like that. He doesn’t want you to think that their sex is a transaction of sorts - one act for another. He’d eat your cunt for hours and never complain if you didn’t return the favor.
He hushes you by crushing his lips to yours - more tongue and teeth and hot breath than a true kiss. You tense beneath him. “I’ve got you, little thing,” he soothes. “I’ve got you and I’m gonna make you feel good - feel so much better.”
His hand is drenched in you and he strokes his cock with the strings of it. He desperately wishes to stuff his fingers into his mouth - swallow all of you - stuff you into him until he cannot breathe or function or fight without the punch of you on his tongue.
“Just getting you ready,” he hums. “Just getting that perfect, pretty cunt ready for me.”
When you’d first seen his cock - you had actually blanched - your eyes so wide that it had made him bark with laughter.
“Um - okay - I - well I’ve never run away from a challenge,” you finally announced and it made him both intensely self-satisfied and strangely tender for you.
He brushes the head of his dick along the seam of your folds - catches it on the blunt nub of your clit. You wiggle beneath him - huffing and stammering until finally he lines himself up and buries his entire length inside you. You grunt when he sheathes himself to the hilt - the weight of his balls right up against your ass as your knees stay glued to his ribs. 
His eyes are nearly crossing as he tries to steady his breathing. He holds himself there - holds his body in place as the muscles of your cunt spasm around him. You are so tight - burning hot and silky and it’s nearly intolerable. He draws his cock out - draws it to the tip - before slamming himself back into you.
You breathe Mando as your fingers flex around his biceps - it comes out like a sigh - a hurried, whistle between teeth. It makes him die - just a little. 
And then he fucks you. Fucks you for real. Fucks you like he means to - fucks you as an apology and as a message - I care, pretty girl. I care a lot. 
When he pulls out - he flips you onto your hands and knees so he can see the work he’s done. You’re fucked open - juicy pink and dripping. He commits it to memory - commits the sight of your ruined pussy to the many records in his head: his files and secrets and talents as a bounty hunter. He can use it to tug himself off when he is alone - when he doesn’t have you near and no - he hates that thought - he does not - cannot - be away from you again.
He trails his hand down your back before it comes to rest on your ass. He hits you - not hard - just a slap - just something to listen to - the echoing burst of flesh to flesh.
“Fuck,” you moan. “Fuck - do it again.”
He does. Your voice is returning - throaty and strong. Your fever pales to just warm.
“You like it rough, sweet girl?” he husks as he wrenches your hair back - rips you hard against him so your spine arches - so your cheek is sliding along his and he can grab you brutishly around the chin and slip his tongue into your mouth.
“So rough,” you cry. “Fuck - I want you to just - just tear me apart.”
Shit.
He shifts - tilting his hips before breaching your defiled cunt with the head of his cock. He teases you - attempting short strokes that barely nuzzle the cup of your womb.
“Don’t you dare,” you growl. “I’m dead serious, Mando. I am dying from poison and you’re playing around.”
“You’re not dying,” he asserts before spearing himself to the base.
***
He goes for hours until you’re screamed raw - stripped of your parts. When his cock doesn’t work anymore he drags you to the foot of his cot and fastens his mouth to your pussy.
It’s filthy - it’s so fucking dirty - to eat you out when he’s filled you with his come. He tastes salt - the tang of girl-sex and sweat and himself. He licks you with an eager tongue - enjoys listening to you gasp and shudder and shake apart as you nearly yank his hair out of his head.
“Mando,” you sob. “Mando it’s - it’s too much.”
He cups your ass - digging his fingers into the soft, giving flesh before hauling you to his lips - legs draped over his shoulders as he drinks from you. He suckles your clit - the tip of his tongue stabbing into you as you buck into his jaw. You sit up as your orgasm shudders through you - body curling into itself as he pins you to the bed.
“C’mon, baby,” he urges. “Come one more time. Just for me. I want my pretty fucking baby to come in my mouth.”
This isn’t in his wheelhouse. He doesn’t blatantly use pet names for the people he’s fucking (or ever). But you’re not people - you’re not like anyone else. These words are flying out of his damn mouth before he can stop them - he feels out of control and possessed and off his head.
He can’t stop.
Something high-pitched sounds from your chest as you haul his threadbare pillow over your face and shriek - and then you’re gushing - wet, warm slick that he consumes with pleasure. It knocks his senses - it destroys him - he swells with something beyond conceit - beyond pride.
Mando. Mando. Mando. 
You call to him - your arms outstretched and he goes to you immediately - your body still shaking uncontrollably from what he’s done. You try and catch your breath, but all you can manage is your palms on his face as you force him down to your mouth.
It’s a kiss - it’s more than that. It’s burning his lips - leaving him cut open. He looks down at you - watches the way your eyes try to pry him apart. He can barely make out your expression - it’s just soft - just loose and lost and vulnerable.
“I can’t see you,” you croak - heartbreakingly sad and frustrated - and isn’t that the point.
But - stars - he’d like to show you - he’d give you his face if he could take it back.
Another voice.
Would you want to take it back though? Would you really?
No.
“That was...that was,” you struggle for language - for sense - before you give up and run your thumb over his cheekbone instead.
“I told you I’d take care of you,” Din reminds as he continues to hold his weight above you - to feel the shivering mess of your body beneath his own. He did that.
“I believed you.”
He would. He’d take care of you always - he’s in too deep now. He longs for you to such a degree that it fucking scares him. What has he done? Why did he get into this in the first place? 
He’s branded you - he thinks. Your come and spit are on his tongue. He’s marked your cunt in a way that maybe - hopefully - you won’t forget. You won’t forget him if you ever do leave.
He collapses next to you - banishing that ugly thought far from the swirl of his head. It makes him too nervous.
He doesn’t do feelings. Mandalorians certainly don’t. It’s the Creed.
Din really doesn’t like that the idea of you gone - the concept of you not at his side - hurts him. 
He buries it away.
*** Please comment/reblog let me know your thoughts if you feel inclined!s
1K notes · View notes
saintobio · 11 months ago
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sugar spice.
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↳ oikawa/reader/iwaizumi
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what’s better than to spend valentine’s with not just one, but two guys?
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genre. pwp, explicit smut, 18+
cw. vulgar language, degradation, polyamory, mmf threesome, cunnilingus + fellatio, fingering, voyeurism, dom/sub elements, daddy kink, unprotected sex, anal + vaginal, double penetration, spitting, creampie, aftercare
notes. happy valentines day! i had this saved in my drafts after an anon jokingly suggested an iwaoi manwich some time ago. and now, i think, is the best time to post it. it’s downright filthy you’ve been warned.
wc. 3.7k | deadly sins anth. mlist | general mlist
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“He’s gonna get mad if we start without him.”
“He’ll be fine, baby. Come on, I’m horny as fuck.”
The first wave of arousal hit your body as Oikawa slid off your skimpy underwear from your waist down to your ankle. The guy had you on the couch with your legs spread open and his warm breath tickling your core when he placed his mouth near your cunt. With hands suppressing your stomach and knees glued to the floor, his face was on the perfect level adjacent to your genital ready to ravage the soaking pussy that he hadn’t tasted for a few days.
You could tell that he missed it with the way his lips curled into a triumphant smirk, eyeing your sex with a wanton stare. He ran his index finger from your clit down to your core, later stretching your folds to open up the hole that he’d been dying to be inside of. “I miss fucking this pussy,” he gritted, pressing his tongue flat between your slit and allowing it to enter your warm cavern. A silent moan escaped your lips after Oikawa passionately kissed your cunt with his eyes looking at nothing else but you. He used his arm to restrict your leg from moving while you were reaching to unclasp your bra—eventually, releasing your tits from the tight covering before throwing the piece of undergarment to the side.
“Mmh—fuck, that’s so good,” you softly whispered, hoisting your hips up a little bit with your hand reaching for Oikawa’s brown locks. The prick was loving your reaction as he smiled while his long tongue was working its way inside. Your eyes almost rolled back when he spread your labia apart so he could lick your inner folds and taste every corner of your cum-coated vagina that he always referred to as ‘sweet’ as sugar. “T-Tooru!”
8 days, you recalled. It had been 8 days since you last had sex with Oikawa because he had to attend a 7-day business trip, leaving you and Iwaizumi behind to have fun on your own. This was also why you couldn’t blame him for being so impatient at having his way with you since he’d been dry for almost a week of simply receiving the nude photos you’ve sent him. The most he had was when he Facetimed you while Iwaizumi was balls deep inside of you and Oikawa simply had to jerk off in his hotel room, watching his best friend fucking your brains out mercilessly.
Little did he know, Iwaizumi rawdogged you every single night while he was gone.
He couldn’t be jealous, though. The three of you were in strict agreement of having to share each other without your personal interests going overboard. The most exciting part about being in a polyamorous relationship specifically with these two hot guys was the difference they both have in terms of sex. They were both blessed with well-endowed members that filled you in constantly, but apart from their big pretty cocks, they were also equally skillfull in bed. What differed them from each other was the fact that Oikawa was passionate while Iwaizumi was rough. One was sugar, the other was spice.
You liked both, frankly. It would be hard to choose simply because you didn’t want to pick just one either way. Iwaizumi could last long in a single round, on the other hand, Oikawa may be fast to reach his orgasm but he could do it for 5 rounds in a single night.
Hitting two birds in one stone? Fuck yes.
“A-Aah, shit. Baby,” you whined as your hand released the tight grip that you had on the cushion before moving it to your clit. You let your fingers perform circular strokes against your bud while you squeezed your breast on the other.
Oikawa, being as stimulated as you, sucked the juices from your core until his mouth was covered with your slick. “My pretty baby misses me, huh?” he jeered, tongue rapidly moving between your folds. He pushed your hand away so he could nip at your clit before french kissing your whole genital like he was desperate to eat you out.
Drool oozed down from your vagina down to your butthole and you could feel his thumb coating your anus with his own saliva acting as lube. God, he was so beautiful. His eyes fluttered as he pulled his face away from the cunt he just ravaged before he palmed your wet vulva with slow strokes. “Mmh.. Finger me, daddy,” you begged, pressing your lips together to suppress your moans. “I want your long fingers inside of me.”
“And they will be inside of you,” he retorted, sending a wink just as he removed his palm from your genital. “How many fingers, baby? One? Two?”
“Three,” you boldly answered which became the reason to Oikawa’s grin, visibly impressed. He mouthed ‘okay’, trailing kisses to your inner thigh before he positioned his middle finger at your entrance. After he sunk the first digit, he didn’t wait too long to sink the other two to completely stretch you out. Thankfully, his amazing pussy-eating skills already prepared you enough for this. “Yes, yes. Aaah, just like that!”
The muscles in Oikawa’s arm were flexing as he moved his fingers in and out at a rapid pace—scissoring the tips until he was able to reach your most pleasurable spot. “Good?” he inquired, staring at your half-lidded eyes. Your mouth was parted as you nodded. “I’ll fuck you raw later, baby. Okay?”
“Please,” you lecherously whined, squeezing your tits together while his three slender fingers were relentlessly destroying your tight hole. Oikawa displayed a satisfied smile, leaning his body over to meet your lips with a soft open-mouthed kiss before kissing the valley between your breasts and later having your clit disappear in his mouth,
When his head sunk low between your legs, you watched the door to your bedroom swing open to see Iwaizumi walking in. “I knew you fuckers started without me!” he complained, walking inside while he stared at your very naked self being eaten out by his best friend. “Sluts.”
Oikawa erupted into a chortle as he glanced at him teasingly. “You came in late, Iwa-chan! I already feasted on her cunt.”
“I feast on it every night,” was Iwaizumi’s short but winning reply, pulling his shirt over his head to reveal his toned body. You managed to see the outline of his thick cock growing from his grey sweatpants as he walked closer to your side and gave you a quick peck on the lips. “Happy Valentine’s, baby.”
“Ha-Haaa—” Jesus, you couldn’t even respond because Oikawa made it his goal to thrust his fingers at an insane speed and make you unable to form coherent words.
Iwaizumi grinned, nonetheless, at the sight before falling on the couch next to you. Leaning on the backrest, he palmed his clothed member while watching his best friend fingering you.
“I get to fuck her first,” Oikawa bargained, taking his digits out before Iwaizumi grabbed his hand and sucked your juices from his fingers. Tooru was quick to snatch his hand back in protest. “Damn you, I was gonna do that!”
“She tastes good,” Hajime naughtily commented, tilting his head to wink at you. “Oikawa, fuck her like the whore she is. She likes it.”
You rolled your eyes as you recalled how he doggied you at full speed last night. You adjusted yourself from the couch while Iwaizumi lifted your chin to give you another lingering kiss. “Mmh—Haji, you smell like fucking cigarettes.”
As he pulled away, you realized that Oikawa was already standing in front of you to reveal his hard cock that was ready to penetrate you all night. His pink throbbing tip was leaking of precum while he pumped himself off above you. “Want this cock, baby?” he asked, sitting next to you and pulling you over his lap. You felt his tip teasing your parting with a lopsided grin on his face, and by surprise, he slammed all of his length inside.
“Y-Yeah!” you screamed from the sudden stretch as you completely sat on his lap with his dick penetrating your tight walls. So good, you were losing your mind, it’s so fucking good. You breasts jiggled at his every thrust and he made your wrap you arms around his neck so he could envelope your mouth with his kisses. Your eyes were stuck on Iwaizumi as you made out with Oikawa, with the latter gripping your ass while he jerked his hips to meet yours.
Iwaizumi’s eyes flickered in lust before he slipped his pants off and allowed his own thick cock to spring free. His hand immediately wrapped itself around his shaft, soon pumping his member at the sight of you and Oikawa fucking like rabbits.
Your tongue was rolling against Tooru’s, exploring each other’s mouth, and leaving you breathless from every pound. “I fucking missed you,” you breathed heavily, pulling away from the kiss to spread your legs further. Oikawa held you by the waist and allowed you to lean back with the assurance that he had you secured around his hold. Your tits continued to bounce when he finally found the perfect angle to go even deeper than he already was.
“I missed you too, baby.” With a quick suck on your left breast, his own moans left his lips along with the loud squelching noises that filled the room, “Tightest fucking cunt I’ve ever been in.”
Iwaizumi sneered from the side, pausing from his self-masturbation as he stood up. You only realized that he was now behind you when his hands sneaked from under your pits to massage your breasts softly. “You like being railed by two guys, don’t you?” he taunted, “you slut.”
You hummed, closing your eyes at the satisfaction that Oikawa’s third leg was giving you as well as Iwaizumi’s hands that were kneading your bosom. The latter’s tip was poking your back and you threw your head back to look up at him. “Babe, let me suck you.”
Grinning cockily, Iwaizumi walked to your left and propped one leg over the couch to angle his swollen cock in your mouth. He ejected spit towards his shaft, some of it splashing on your cheekbone before he jerked himself off. “Ready?” he asked, holding onto his girth and slapping it against your tongue. “Good girl. Yes, you are.”
Oikawa giggled, now taking a pause from his own thrusts to let you twerk on your own. You were simultaneously sucking Iwaizumi’s dick while dancing against Oikawa’s rock hard erection like a complete people pleaser.
Well, when it came to these two men, you’d do anything to please them.
“What took you so long?” You heard Oikawa ask Iwaizumi in the midst of your current position.
“Bought her flowers. The line was so long.”
“Ha! That’s why I got her chocolates.”
You swirled your tongue on Iwaizumi’s tip while using your hand to jerk off the upper half. When he arranged your hair into a ponytail, Oikawa took the chance to lick the skin on your neck—biting and sucking your skin to leave his purplish mark.
“I’m gonna cum,” the brunette announced, patting your ass to signal his desire to pull out from your cunt. Iwaizumi’s dick left your mouth as Oikawa moved you to the side before standing side-by-side to his best friend.
You bit your lip and suppressed a chuckle as they grinned at each other while holding their cocks like it was a competition. Idiots. “Tooru, I want your cum in my mouth.”
“As you wish, baby,” he hummed, pumping his length directly above your face, briefly turning to Iwaizumi with a playful smirk, “Cumshot?”
Iwaizumi nodded once with the corner of his lips upturned into a predatory simper, “Put those hands to work and give us a handjob, babe.”
You did as told and pumped each of them with both your hands. The multitasking was hard labor but the look on their faces intensified your arousal so you made your best performance to satisfy the two. With two huge cocks right by your face, you decided to tease Iwaizumi’s cock first with a lick on his tip while still jerking off their dicks like a pro. You sucked the corner of Iwaizumi’s length before bobbing your head when you fully took him in. Oikawa, on the other hand, guided you to beat his meat at the pace he wanted.
“It’s like we’re dating a fucking pornstar,” Oikawa commented, causing Iwaizumi to chuckle deeply.
You stared up at Hajime with a restrained smile before releasing his cock with a pop to switch to sucking Tooru’s. You adjusted your mouth so his tip could reach the back of your throat until you gagged, making him lose his mind over it.
“Maybe we should film it next time,” Iwaizumi suggested, reaching to touch your boob and play with your nipple with his index finger, “Suck us both, babe.”
First of all, it was always Iwaizumi who did the orders like the absolute dominant he was because you were his precious submissive who followed everything he asked you to do. So, this time, and for the first time, you tried to alternate between sucking each of their heads before you took both dicks in your mouth.
They couldn’t even fit.
The corners of your lips were being stretched with your attempt at giving a nice blowjob to your two boyfriends at the same time. Praises left their mouths even as drool started running down to your neck.
“That’s my baby,” Oikawa praised, tucking some hair behind your ear before Iwaizumi slipped his member out of you to have you aid his best friend’s nearing orgasm, “I’m gonna cum, for real.”
You stuck your tongue out when Oikawa increased the speed of his hand before finally ejaculating his warm seed on your face, “Uhh, fuck!” he released a guttural moan as he sent his cum all over your face—some on your mouth, some on your cheek, some were dripping down to your chest.
“Shit.” Iwaizumi watched the whole thing intently and very vividly, pulling you out of the couch as you wiped Oikawa’s jizz on your face. “You look pretty with cum drizzles.”
You playfully shoved him by the chest, feeling your knees wobble a little before you pulled Oikawa for a quick kiss, “You taste good, baby,” you said, before pushing him towards the bedside table. “Go get some damn tissues.”
The man left with a grin while Iwaizumi was manhandling you to get into his favorite position. “Ass up, whore,” he derided, twisting your hip and forcing you to get on your knees on the couch. “Hands on the backrest.”
Oikawa soon came back to wipe off the excess cum that were on your face before Iwaizumi rammed his cock inside of your stretched hole without warning. You were left whimpering from his roughness as every slam caused slapping noises from your ass to his groin. Goddamn, the friction he was creating against your cunt was achingly good.
“Aah—aah, yeah!” you cried out, gripping the cushion tight as you leaned forward while you were being pussy pounded from behind. Iwaizumi’s grip on your waist were tight and he paid very little mercy at how his huge, veiny cock was entering you at an insane pace until tears started welling up your eyes. “H-Hajime!”
Oikawa’s mocking laugh could be heard to your right. “Aww, my pretty baby’s crying.” His reflection from the glass panel let you see how he whispered something on Iwaizumi’s ear before the said guy pulled you by the hair.
Your scalp felt like it was going to be ripped out of your head. “Hajime!” you screamed, feeling his member forcefully plowing into your abused cunt. “D-Daddy—”
“Be a good girl for daddy.” His hot breath tickled your ear after he pulled you back until your body was arched into a C, later releasing his grip on your hair to place his hand on your bum.
You pressed your upper body against the backrest of the couch, albeit your insistence of preventing wanton cries from the feeling of his cock going deeper each second. The movements of his hips were fast and rough that you almost felt your eyes rolling at the back of your head. “S-So good!”
“You think you can take us both, babe?” he asked, feeling his spit lubricating your asshole while he continued rearranging your guts. You’ve never tried being penetrated at the same time but the thought somehow ignited a newfound excitement within you.
So you nodded, very much like an obedient girl. “Oikawa prepped me while we waited for you.”
Iwaizumi pressed his thumb inside your anus while his cock was slowing down from your cunt. “Did he?” He sunk his whole fucking thumb in and it left you moaning out loud. “I get to fuck your ass, then.”
“C’mere, baby,” Tooru called as he appeared to your side with Hajime pulling out of your pussy before he sat on the couch. “Iwa-chan, let her do reverse cowgirl.”
Fuck, it’s happening!
You hid your excitement when Iwaizumi leaned in to kiss you softly before he urged you to turn your back on him and sit in the middle of his pelvis. He opened up your parting, running his slick-coated fingers to wet your butthole—not long after, his tip was entering your anus slowly and painfully. “Aaah—fuck. F-Fuck, daddy!”
“All good?” he asked, watching his cock disappear from your ass while Oikawa was holding your hands for support. Your anal walls clamped around his juicy cock as another moan was emitted from you. “You’re so tight.”
“Hajime, that’s... You’re so fucking big!” you whined, hearing his chuckle before he pulled your back to rest it against his chest. Now, with his dick moving in and out of your asshole, Oikawa opened your legs and found his territory on your vulva.
“Look at my eyes,” he commanded, running his fingers through his hair before playfully slapping his dick against your clit. You chuckled before it turned into a moan as Iwaizumi went deeper in your other hole. “Doing good, Iwa-chan.”
You laced your fingers with Hajime’s on your left hand while you intertwined your right with Tooru’s. It didn’t take long until the latter penetrated your tight cunt and amazingly hit the right spot as soon as all of his length was inside. Loud squelching noises along with lecherous moans reverberated through the room when the dual penetrative action sent you into a state of euphoria.
You were thrown into ecstasy despite the unfamiliarity of this new experience.
Having two huge dicks destroying you like there was no tomorrow felt like it was only some kind of a dream, but now, had turned into reality.
“Aah, th-that’s so fucking good!” You took deep breaths, humming in pleasure and closing your eyes to simply bask in the feeling. “Don’t stop.”
“Holy fucking shit,” Oikawa cussed, nails digging into the skin of your waist leaving crescent marks as he fucked your cunt at the same rhythm his best friend was shoving his dick inside your asshole. At this point, screams were coming out of your mouth while the two guys romanced your body for their own pleasure.
You could hear Iwaizumi panting beneath you when he continuously wrecked your other hole. His hand later traveled to your chest to give your bust a harsh squeeze and it gave Oikawa an idea to suck your other tit and swirl his tongue around your nub.
One of the 7 deadly sins filled this room tonight and it was none other than lust.
With screams getting louder, gasps causing your mouths to part open, and all three people connected into a single body—you disintegrated between the two men as your lower abdomen signaled your orgasm and your toes started curling. “Ngh—I’m cumming! Aah!”
Your legs started to shake while you clenched around Oikawa’s member and squeezed Iwaizumi’s cock in one go. “Damn, we made her cum,” the latter teased, not allowing you to rest as he rammed himself up your ass.
Oikawa delighted at the sight while he, too, pounded you through your overstimulation. His brows started to furrow which only meant how serious he had become at trying to chase his climax.
However, surprisingly, it was Iwaizumi who came first.
The tan guy shot all of his warm load inside your rectum and filling it all in with his cream. He pulled his dick out, still having you resting above his chest, and you instantly felt his liquid oozing from your anus.
“My turn,” Oikawa growled, latching on to your sides when he caught up to his pace and cursed under his breath as his orgasm was near. Iwaizumi tried to hold you in place as you were being fucked like a ragdoll and in after a few more minutes of thrusting and cockslamming, Tooru’s hot spurts of seed were sent straight to your womb as his movements became sloppy and uneven, pulling out of you only to see his semen seeping out of the pussy he just destroyed. “That was fucking good.”
You never really thought that today would be the day you would expand your sexual experiences that worked for relationships like the ones you have with both Oikawa and Iwaizumi. It may be difficult to expect from you but you were determined to experiment more and see what else could spice up your sugary sweet life with two.
For now, you were exhausted. Iwaizumi had you transferred to the bed as your whole body was limp. He was the one who wiped the cum off your body before Oikawa tucked you under the duvet and kissed your forehead.
“Sleepy?” Tooru asked, smiling, “I’ll spoil you lots when you wake up.”
“I’m so tired,” you singsonged with heavy eyelids, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“Rest up, babe,” Hajime spoke, brushing your hair to the side as he climbed in bed next to you. “Happy Valentine’s.”
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latte-fairytaekwoon · 11 months ago
Text
𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐒𝐞𝐱/𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 (𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝)
Warnings: NSFW content. Read at your own discretion.
❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰
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Hongjoong was already frustrated. He was on a deadline to finish up a song and he was nowhere near even getting halfway. Eden had just recently scolded him and he felt extremely agitated and irritated at this point.
"Hey Joong? I brought you lunch so-"
"Just leave it on the table, I'll eat it later." He cut you off rather sharply, barely even sparing you a glance.
"I was actually thinking we could eat together." You were off put by his short temper.
"I don't have time Y/N." He huffed out, a hand running through his hair.
You were pissed at this point and were not about to take his crap anymore.
"Exactly! You don't have time for me anymore! I get your job demands a lot of your time, but to not even take a break and enjoy just 10 minutes without....these." You gestured to all the mess scattered around his desk.
Hurt about being reminded about his neglect of you yet angry at being scolded once more, Hongjoong slammed his hands on the table, swiftly pushing off the chair before going over to where you were standing and stared you down.
"All right. Fine. 10 minutes you say? I can work with that."
Without a warning, he pushed you onto the couch, making a quick work of your pants and stripping them off you. You let out a sharp cry when he began devouring your pussy, animalistic growls spilling out his lips as he slurped you up as if he'd been starved. When you tried pulling away, he landed a harsh slap on your clit, making your hips jolt up and a shriek come out.
"Shut up and take what I give you you needy desperate whore. You wanted 10 minutes? Let's see how many times I can make you cum in that time."
❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪
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Hearing the front door slam, Seonghwa brace himself for yet another one of your moods after a long day at work. Wanting to help your day be less stressful, he had prepared you some of your favorites food.
"Y/N." He called out to you in a sing song tone.
Stomping over, you just looked at him with an eyebrow raised, total resting bitch face plastered on.
"I made your favorite." He happily told you, but you still didn't seem to bat an eyelash at him, you simply turned around and began walking out.
"Wait Y/N come on. Here at least try some. It'll help you with your stress-"
"Can't you take a damn hint Seonghwa?! I don't fucking want it!"
When he tried to approach you with a spoonful of food, you actually snapped and slapped it out of his hand, making it stain his perfectly polished floor. Seonghwa looked at it then looked back at you.
"You know Y/N I think I put up with your bratty attitude and bitchy behavior for too long."
You gasped sharply when he suddenly turned you around and slammed you up against the table, grabbing your arms so he could hold them behind your back.
"Maybe I've been a little too nice to you....making you baths, preparing you food, all in hopes of helping you release stress....but its clear a little bitch like you doesn't need that."
You squirmed under his grasp, trying to get free but with no use as his grip was tight on you. The sound of him unbuckling his belt made you stop moving entirely, and you shivered when pulled your skirt up before ripping your tights and pushing your underwear to the side.
"Clearly a bitch like you needs a good pounding, fuck that attitude right out of you."
❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸
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You knew you were screwed the instant Yunho roughly pulled you off Mingi's lap and took you into his room, shutting the door right behind him before staring at you with fire burning through his eyes. You had never seen him so mad before.
No soon afterwards, you were currently on top of him, his hips bucking up at you at a relentless pace that had you screaming his name over and over again. His hands were practically digging into your skin, holding tightly onto you with such ferocity.
"Look at you, being so desperate for a good fuck that you'd actually try and whore yourself out to my best friend like a cheap bitch."
When one of his hands came up to grasp at your throat, you were shivering on top of him.
"Weren't you?! What! Is my cock not enough for you? My cock and these hands you love so much not satisfying you anymore? Hmm? Is that why you were all cuddled up to Mingi? Hoped he'd actually take pity and fuck you?"
You knew it wasn't your intention to make him jealous, but god if this is what jealousy did to him, you would totally do it again.
"Stupid slut. Mingi's not going to fuck you. You're just a dirty, filthy hole, he doesn't want you...."
Even after you came, you were still a crying mess as Yunho kept fucking up into you, not caring that you were beyond your limit, your inner thighs getting sore.
"But you're my little hole for me to fuck. Got it? And if I need to fuck you dumb to get it through that stupid useless brain of yours to understand that only I can make you feel this good, then so be it. I'll fuck you til you break, my little sex toy."
❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰
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Yeosang was not very pleased by your behavior lately. You had been giving him the silent treatment and avoiding him for no good reason. Trying to coax what was wrong out of you, he came up behind you as you were washing dishes.
"How's my little princess? Did you have a good day?"
He was only met with you elbowing him in the rib and shoved him off you.
"Ok seriously Y/N? What did I even do? Stop being so childish and talk to me like a mature adult."
Hearing you scoff and seeing you roll your eyes at him made him furious and irritated with you. As you tried to walk past him, he grabbed your elbow and picked you up, setting you down on the kitchen counter as his eyes burned a hole through you.
"If you're going to keep acting like a brat, maybe I should just treat you like one then."
You don't know if you truly regret breaking Yeosang's patience. On the one hand, you were definitely not going to be walking straight for a week. On the other, you utterly enjoyed having your face pressed against the pillow, ass up as Yeosang was shoving his dick in and out of you, red handprints scattered across your butt cheeks and hands tied behind your back with one of his ties. Everytime you tried to hide your face in the pillow to muffle your screams, he'd yank your hair up.
"I said I wasn't having you ignore me anymore princess. Now come on, scream my name. I want this entire floor to hear your pathetic whimpers."
❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷
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San looked at you with an unamused gaze.
"Repeat what you just said.....I dare you to."
He was pissed off, it was more than clear. But maybe that's what you wanted, wanted him to be as pissed as you were, even just a bit of what you were feeling. It's not that you meant to take out your jealousy on him, but seeing his co-host be extremely clingy towards him backstage and he never did anything about it made your blood boil.
"I said you're nothing more than a fucking horn dog. Probably let that skank suck your dick." You exclaimed in disgust.
The sudden slam of his hand against the wall behind you both scared and thrilled you. Looking at you with a hungry smirk, he opened the door behind you, trapping you inside a closet. In minutes, he was pressing you against the wall, his frantic grunts mixing with your whimpered cries. San would occasionally let out a sadistic laugh at how wrecked you look.
"You're right baby, I am indeed a horn dog. Absolutely love getting my dick wet and fuck a pussy all the time."
Hand reaching between your legs, he began to harshly pinch and rub at your clit, his other hand that was holding onto your hip keeping you from collapsing on the floor as your orgasm took over you.
"But get this straight: I only fuck this pussy right here. Ok? I fucking claimed this a long ass time ago and I'll fuck it whenever I want to."
❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲
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Ending the call with your friend, you were coming out of the bedroom when you were suddenly shoved back inside by none other than your usually caring and sweet boyfriend, who looked angry as he closed the door behind him.
"Mingi? What-"
You couldn't finish your sentence as his large hands cupped your cheeks, his long body pushing you back until you landed on the bed. He was kissing you harshly, nothing like the usual tender and loving kisses he'd be known to give you. His hands clutched at your covered breasts, groping at them before he unexpectedly tore your shirt in the middle.
"Mingi! What has gotten into you?!" You exclaimed in shock at his sudden change in behavior.
"I heard you talking to your friend. Saying shit like I'm too soft and vanilla for you."
You moaned out when he began to suck along your neck, his hands cupping your bra and pulling it down enough to have your breasts spill out.
"Oh princess if only you knew I've just been holding back all this time."
With a taunting chuckle, he pulled of you. Undoing his zipper, he began to strip out of his jeans and briefs, letting his long cock spring free, precum leaking at the tip.
"I didn't want to be selfish and break you like I wanted too....... but if that's what you want well then, I'd be happy to oblige my little princess."
❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰
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Neither of you knew how it started nor exactly how it escalated. One minute Wooyoung was being the annoying shit he was, with you playfully shoving him away and calling him names, and then the next you were both pushing each other rather abruptly. When you called him a particularly degrading insult, he retaliated likewise and now it seemed like a screaming match between you two.
"You know what? This is fucking stupid!" You hollered and turned away, making a bee line towards your room.
"I'm not done yet!" Wooyoung trailed after you.
"Well I am! Now excuse me, I'm going to go take a shower and hopefully cool off this rage." You stated firmly before slamming the bathroom door right in his face.
The refreshing water seemed to calm you down a little, so you just stood there under the shower head, just letting your body soak in the cold. You were so unaware of your surroundings that you failed to notice Wooyoung had entered the bathroom and didn't realize it until you felt his arms turn you around to face him. No explanation, he just began kissing you, his tongue taking control over your mouth while one hand hiked one of your legs over his waist.
"Still think I'm an annoying bastard?" He grunted fiercely as he thrusted up into you, not giving you time to react as he began pounding into you.
"Yes you are!" You hissed at him, hands swooping his wet hair and tugging at it rather hardly.
He just looked at you with a shit eating grin.
"Yet you still let me fuck you. "
❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸
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You were frustrated and stressed out, so was Jongho. Even as you two did your own little things inside the apartment, even the smallest things either of you did made the other let out an annoyed huff. It all culminated when Jongho accidentally spilled his cup of juice on the floor, that little action had you both looking at each other with near contempt.
"I feel like punching something." Jongho confessed.
"Me too." You admitted.
"Wanna punch me?" He offered.
Smirking at him, you thought about something better.
"No.... I think I'd rather fuck you."
So now here you were, underneath your inhumanely strong boyfriend, his cock balls deep inside you, your legs thrown over his shoulders while his hands were already leaving bruises around your inner thighs from how hard he was squeezing at them. You two had already cum several times but you still kept going, pushing past your sensitivity as you both still had a lot of rage and energy to release.
In a particularly sharp angle of his hips, you were quivering under Jongho, for the first time you were actually squirting under him.
"Oh fuck!" Seeing you break down and make a mess all over him and yourself had him cumming soon after, his body collapsing on top of yours.
Both of you were beyond exhausted after all that. Your bodies were so sticky with sweat and your breathing had not yet returned to normal. Looking over at you, Jongho smiled sincerely for the first time in days.
"So.... now that we got that out of the way.... can we cuddle?"
Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.
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