#fun fact i first heard about this around the time poor things was announced so at first i thought it was a yorgos lanthimos venture | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scarletnakazato · 2 months

Text

Shingo Shoji - Saturday Night Fever

• Shingo Shoji x Reader | Smut | • Word Count: 10,638. • Synopsis: A girls night out leads to flashbacks of a very interesting race, then to present day "wholesome" bonding time with the NightKids' Downhill Specialist. • Notes: Another big thank you to @shingogf, my Initial D writing bestie for another influx of god forsaken ideas for the ratman we all love and hate. She do be having some amazing fics on her AO3 (DistanceYourselfFromMyProximity) please give her major kudos on all that artwork!

Sitting in a highchair at the pub with a few of her closest friends, (Y/N) and the girls sipped their drinks, gossiping about the latest drama and interjecting with comments about what they would’ve done or things that should’ve been said during the situation causing more hums in agreement and drink sipping to ensue. Typical bar music played in the background, setting the mood for a fun Saturday night, with a few people swaying around to the tune as they talked with friends and their dates.

The girls’ conversations eventually turned to their boyfriends and all the cutesy things they’ve done for their girls. The way they drawled on about how “he treats me like a delicate princess” and “I love that he’s so sweet and considerate when he makes love to me” bored the living hell out of (Y/N). She sat there, sipping her drink as her girlfriends went on about how their men were sickly sweet, and overly considerate and gentle in their ‘too sweet of love making,’ according to her.

She barely listened, soon turning to zoning out. The memories of her and Shingo’s most recent escapade on a lone, empty corner resting on Myogi Pass flashed through her mind. The memory so vivid in fact, she could almost feel it. She’d lost a bet, becoming one of the many people to underestimate the 8-6 of Akina. The couple went to the race between Takeshi and Keisuke, rooting for the NightKids leader, only for the poor man to lose by an inch. After the crowd died down about Keisuke Takahashi’s win, his newest trainee, Kenta officially challenged Takumi to a downhill battle in the rain.

With the crowd cheering in agreement at the S14 driver’s challenge, Fujiwara had little choice but to race. A flash of an idea in Shingo’s mind brought him to lean into his girlfriend’s ear, whispering about heading up to a specific corner to watch the race. “A good turning point to see who’d finish the race first,” he’d said. His smile only grew, both in appeasement and mischievousness when she agreed. Shingo announced their departure to Takeshi with a “Oi, we’re heading to a corner further down to see some better action. Give us three minutes, ‘ight?” Without waiting for a response from his leader, they took off in the Civic, the loud, echoing noises of his B16A bouncing off Myogi’s cliffs. To Shingo’s fortune, the corner he chose was empty. He pulled onto the shoulder of the corner, parking with his car’s hood facing the guardrail. “Are you gonna back in?” (Y/N) asked, noting how he almost never parks hood forward.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he drawled out, “Besides… I feel like I want the hood a little more… protected. Y’know?” He gave her a half-assed smirk, not being surprised when she admitted her confusion to whatever he meant. They leaned back against the hatch, waiting for the race to start. The small sounds of rustling leaves, swaying branches and the distant talk of the other spectators further up and down the pass could be heard. They stood in comfortable silence as Shingo lit a cigarette. The familiar sound of the lighter clicking and him puffing out his breath with a light trail of smoke following brought an unconscious sense of comfort. The rain that had been going on since the race with Takeshi and Keisuke simmered down into more of a drizzle, the pattering of raindrops hitting the metal of the EG6 could be continuously heard, creating a calming background noise. The couple’s clothes only got damper and their hair gently clung to the side of their faces, until it was brushed away to prevent further discomfort and tickling sensations.

They could faintly hear people chattering that the race was about to start, perking them up more. A small group of people made their way to the corner Shingo and (Y/N) stood at. He growled in annoyance, no longer having the semi-seclusion he was hoping for.

“Say…” Shingo started, puffing out another drag of his cigarette. “Wanna make a bet?” She looked over at her boyfriend with a raised eyebrow, seeing him leaning towards her sideways. “Depends. On what, exactly?” she questioned, feeling her shoulder lower slightly when he dropped his head on it. The sensation of his breath and hair tickling her neck made her bend it the other way, as if cracking it. Shingo snuck in a quick kiss and nipped the crook of her neck making her side eye him.

“What if,” he wrapped an arm around her stomach, while the other holding the cigarette crawls up her shoulder, to the nape of her neck, and curls around for his hand to splay out and cup her jaw, oh so gently, while his two fingers holding the dangling cigarette press against her soft lips, encouraging her to take a drag of it, “we choose a racer who we think is gonna win. And if they lose, the winner of the bet gets to fuck the loser on the hood of my car.”

“What if we choose the same person and they win or lose? Then what?” she blew the smoke in the direction of his face, almost challenging him. “We can’t pick the same person. Takes the fun away from it. Pick one, give a reason why, and we’ll see what happens. If you think about it babe, it’s a win-win situation. One of us is gonna get fucked on the hood either way. Sounds like a good deal, eh?” he drawls out the last word, knowing how much it fucks with her. The sheer tone of his voice mixed with his cocky attitude makes her both want to ruin him and get dominated by him.

He moves himself behind her, leaning against the hatch of his Civic and pulling her to lean on him by slipping his hands under her skirt, and grabbing the hem of her panties. The dampness of their clothes sticks to their skin as the pressure of their contact only gets firmer with Shingo’s handsy-ness. The back of his maroon hoodie only getting wetter from the water pooling on the Civic’s paint from the drizzle still going on.

“Heh, although... I’d always prefer it’s you who gets ruined on it.” A shit-eating smirk graces his face, his eyes glinting with everlasting devilry. “The way you arch that pretty little back for me just so I can fuck you deeper.” His hands and fingers slide to the small of her back with his thumbs squeezing into her sides damn near possessively. “How your cheeks get as red as my paint with that fucked out expression as your face is pressed so cutely on the hood. Fuck, it makes me wanna take you right now if these jackasses weren’t here.” He growls out lowly as his voice gets deeper, still mindful about the group of people taking up both sides of the corner, leaving them more in the back middle.

She sighed, knowing nothing was going to calm him down enough. Letting him have his way like the spoiled, horny brat he was, she silently reached behind her, her movements small and subtle as she simply unzipped the fly of his pants. A quiet encouragement for him to release his cock just enough to slip it between her soft thighs. Flipping the zipper of his pants inward as best he can to reduce the rough scratchiness and lowering his baggy boxers some to pop his boner over the elastic, he takes a light hold of her panties once more, pulling her closer to his pelvis like it’s a handle, seeing a flash of white from where his fingers are hooked around the hem, he bit his lip.

Resting his head back on her shoulder, he whispers in her ear, “Changing it up tonight I see, hmm?” he gives a light tug on her panties as reference to his words, “Do you realize how stupidly easy it would be for me to fuck you in these? How much easier it would be to cum in you or right on the outside of this pretty pussy and hide the mess?” he gives her pussy a couple casual pats. Gentle, but still with enough pressure to feel her tense up as she bites her lip and clenches around nothing. He chuckles lightly, though it feels louder with him right next to her ear. She barely notices that one of his hands detached from its place on her hips and used it to help weasel his cock through his fly and slip it into her panties, sandwiching it so the bottom of his cock is covered by the soft cotton while the top and tip rest against her quickly soaking folds.

She could feel his heavy tip press against her clit, it felt close enough to be able to slip into her if she’d press her ass just a bit further back into Shingo’s pelvis. “Ah ah, pretty girl, no dick for you just yet. You gotta lose that little bet of ours if you want my cock pumpin’ in and outta’ you.” He stopped her from moving back into him, one of his hands slipping under her skirt and into her panties once more to lightly pinch at her lower lips and somewhat wrap it around the sides of his cock as he grinds against her clit, slowly, and far too gentle for her tastes, though they still have to hide their actions from the groups around them.

His hand pulls away from her clit to feel up the soft plush of her ass under her panties, squeezing occasionally. Shingo could see his hand outline definitively through her tight red skirt before pulling away and pulling her skirt back down enough to hide the view from others if the bastards decided they were nosy enough to look over. So far, they’ve done quite well at hiding their actions from the small crowd, both managing to keep their breaths quiet. As Shingo continued to slowly thrust his cock between his girl’s-soaked folds and panties, he wrapped his arms around her midsection, chin still resting on her shoulder. To anyone else, the position looked innocent. Everyone knew Shingo was clingy around his girl, especially in public so they’d brush it off as another display of his physical affection and possessiveness.

His sighs were low, his long, quiet exhales sounding out in her ear with each small thrust forward. His eyes kept closing, only to open again more lidded than before, the whites of his eyes showing more and more each time as they rolled back. When the hem of her panties began to feel too rough for the base of his cock to handle, he slipped out from the warm place he was sandwiched between, his hand coming back around to her rear to pull at the plush of her thighs enough to slip his cock between them. He could hear her whine his name quietly at the loss of friction on her clit then cut off a quick, sharp inhale when she felt his cock, wet and most likely glistening with a light sheen from her wetness, slip between her upper thighs, his grinding thrusts starting up once more.

“Squeeze ‘em tighter, c’mon… more baby more, put those fucking thighs around it…” he whimpered desperately, that turned into a borderline quiet hissing. She thought for a moment, giving him one of her monotonous hum, making him believe for a moment she wasn’t going to. Only seconds later does she give into his desperation, she crossed her ankle over the other, squeezing his hard, aching cock deliciously, immediately earning a strained, muffled moan as he exhaled into the crook of her neck to keep it down, hugging her midsection tighter. To make matters worse, she starts to move her hips slowly back and forth, as if casually rocking herself out of boredom. Their movements are opposite, making Shingo lose himself even quicker when he thrusts forward, she moves back into him, just for him to pull away as she rocks forward.

His voice cracks out a sigh as his breath hitches repeatedly. “You gonna cum, Shin?” she turned her head towards his, whispering it teasingly in his ear. All he could do was say, “Mhmm… mhmm please baby stay there, please… please let me just… haah, just need ta’… cum on your pretty, pretty thighs, please baby…” Bringing a hand to tangle in his hair, she uncrossed her ankles to lighten the pressure around his cock, she subtly slipped her other hand under her skirt to pull her panties down enough to cover the tip of his cock as he came, helping to lessen the mess, though not by much as he always cums in large amounts.

Leaning his bottom half against the car and his upper half against her for stability, his legs felt weak, and his breathing came out as shaky pants as he had to force himself to stay quiet around the masses. He worked poorly in the first half of getting his dick back in his pants but eventually did so, and (Y/N) tried her best to make her adjusting look normal as she tried to wipe her thighs clean of her man’s cum with her panties, as if they weren’t already soaked.

“Now, baby if you don’t mind, how about you tone down the horniness for five minutes and watch the race so we can see who wins, hmmm?” she blows the cigarette’s last bit of smoke out before stomping out the chewed stick she gnawed on during her lip biting not even two minutes ago. Pushing herself off the EG driver once he was decent once more, she moved to lean on the car’s hatch on his side to get a good view of the pass before them without having more of her boyfriend’s uncontrollable touching.

“Anyway, before we truly got to finish this conversation since someone couldn’t hold it in, I think that Kenta guy is gonna win since all the 8-6 kid knows is Akina. The RedSuns make it a point to learn other passes so I’m going to assume Takahashi’s protégé has done so with Myogi. All Fujiwara has done is drive up the pass some to see the race, so he has a most basic of layouts for the road compared to seriously driving on it. That’s my reason. And you, Shingo?” she asks, accentuating his name in a mock loving voice with a teasing tone behind it.

“Hmph…” he inhaled deeply, still trying to catch the last few breaths he needed before replying, his signature, annoying, snarky tone making an appearance as if he wasn’t a panting, begging mess mere moments ago. “Ain’t gonna cut it, sweetheart,” he rebuttals. “Underestimating Akina’s 8-6 was the worst mistake I made, and I lost to him cause of that. You’re just gonna end up like the rest of these idiots out here who think some rain and a different pass is gonna be the end of Fujiwara.” He took a drag of his newly lit cigarette to help calm his nerves further, his eyes also focused on the road in front of them.

“No, the worst mistake you made was ramming yourself into a fucking guardrail and obliterating your car, you dipshit. What did you think was gonna happen when there’s a right turn and you go left instead? Did the guardrail flash you like it was my ass or something?” She asked sarcastically with a raised eyebrow and unimpressed expression, motioning to her ass. Shingo nearly chokes on his cigarette and snaps his head in her direction like she was insane. The speed at which he turned was close to giving him whiplash.

“The fuck?!” he said incredulously, looking at her with a deadpanned expression. “I could have passed him anytime I wanted, and I wanted him to sweat with the pressure. Once I knew I wasn’t beatin’ that guy, I was gonna send both of us into the damn guardrail. I figured I had a crap ton more distance to pull it off, ‘ight? Lay off my ass.” He exclaimed quickly and huffed like a child who knew he was in trouble yet tried to play it off. “And if you think a guardrail looks like your ass, maybe I should bend you over one sometime so we can compare, huh?” his tone turned breathy, laced with that familiar growliness he gets when angry or horny. It only grows more evident when he’s both… which is almost always.

(Y/N) merely shrugged with a cocky smirk that mirrors Shingo’s iconic one. Rolling his eyes in annoyance he averted them back to the road, hearing squealing tires getting closer. Only two minutes later did the Panda Trueno and orange S14 speed around the corner, the S14 taking an outside line to block the Trueno as it comes out of a drift, only to cut into the inside, the front left tire bumping up onto the curb of the sidewalk like an inverted gutter run and slide back into a short drift, passing the S14 and vanishing behind the next corner.

“Well, fuck…” she said, now knowing she lost, with the pass only having a couple of corners left, none of which would give the S14 an advantage at passing.

“Fuck is right; time to pay up, hot stuff.” Shingo chuckled, stamping out his cigarette with a shit-eating smirk. Huffing in annoyance, she stayed in her place at the back of the Civic. Sure, he won, but she wasn’t going to let him have her so easily again. Noting her lack of enthusiasm, Shingo strutted his way to stand in front of her. Hovering over her smaller form for a moment before bending down for his lips to meet her ear and his hand to gently grasp the back of her jaw, slightly turning her head in the opposite direction. Turning his head to the side, Shingo’s warm breath tickled her ear as he whispered, “Are you gonna be a good girl for me and spread out on my hood or am I gonna have to do it for ‘ya?” He left a ghost of a kiss on the shell of her ear, with a low, teasing hum that reverberated in her eardrums.

“You know damn well I’m making you work for it. You had it easy not even five minutes ago, the least I can do is deny you some of the satisfaction of an easy win, love.” She challenged, turning to meet his eyes before leaning in and biting at his lower lip. He growled in annoyance. Not being able to display the dominance he desperately wanted to right now, due to the people who were still around, though slowly beginning to disperse, preventing her from doing anything and she knew it with that smirk on her face.

He was not a patient man and having to wait nearly ten minutes for the last of the group around them to leave by car felt like an hour. Once they turned the corner and no one around was in view, Shingo, without the slightest hint of hesitation, grabbed the bottom of her thighs, lifting her up, as her legs instinctively wrapping around his skinny waist. He carried her to the front of his car, lying her back on the hood, her legs pulling him in closer until his pelvis brushed against hers.

Yanking him down by the hair, their lips smash together in a rough kiss of teeth and tongue. The occasional growls escaping Shingo’s throat only has her tugging on his black strands further and clawing her nails against his bicep. The faint taste of cigarette smoke was laced in their tongues and Shingo’s hand worked quickly at pushing up her red skirt that blended in with the Civic’s paint, and lifting her hips to slip her panties that were damp in most spots mostly from his cum she tried to clean. The coldness of the car’s hood mixed with rain on her bare skin had her shivering as goosebumps raised on her arms and legs. She unconsciously pulled Shingo closer to her, seeking the warmth that radiated off him.

His hands were hot on her skin as they snaked their way up to the hem of her shirt, pushing it upwards as her arms unraveled from his body to allow him to pull the clothing off her. His lips kissed down her jaw to the side of her neck, nipping and licking at the soft, sensitive skin as he kneaded and groped her through her bra.

Not even bothering to undo her bra, he yanked the back straps, the small hooks popping out and bending at the force, sliding it off her shoulders easily. She made a surprised noise at the sudden aggressiveness, though not complaining. It only invigorated her, letting her lithe fingers sneak to the hem of his pants to undo his belt, letting the waistband slide down to his thighs as she teasingly rubbed the back of her hand over his once again painfully hard cock for a second time within the hour. Before he could do anything else, she slid off the hood, kneeling in front of him and hooking her fingers in the waistband of his boxers, yanking them down with the same aggressiveness he gave with her bra, emitting a strangled whiney moan from the man above her as his cock is freed from its confinements, looking almost as red as his Civic.

Taking him delicately in her hand she gave him several strokes, too light and too teasing for his liking, making him groan in frustration. “Problem, baby?” She looked up at him with innocent eyes as she gave his tip a kitten lick. His jaw tensed and a hand instinctively tangled in her hair. “C’mon babe… You can do better than tha- haah!” he moaned, voice high and so, so pretty. It was music to her ears as she took him in fully, tongue wrapping skillfully around his length as she bobbed her head steadily. His head fell back as he groaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head, his fingers loosening their grip in her hair as she continued.

The mix of her warm mouth, tongue and hand working in unison around his twitching cock told her she had at most another minute or two before he’d cum. Deciding to put her all into it, she hollowed out her cheeks, and squeezed him just a bit more earning deep sighs and groans from him. It felt as if her tongue could almost wrap around his length when pulled away to leave kisses and suck lightly on the sensitive skin, tongue jutting out to lick the bottom of his cock.

“B-babe…” he panted before whining out a shameful “Baby, pleaseee-” his grip in her tightened once more, tugging on it. The breaking point was her vibrating moan when she took him in once more, and him cumming with a loud groan, painting her mouth white with his surprisingly sweet cum; a stark contrast to his personality. Pulling away from him, she swallowed, her thumb wiping up any extra before seductively sucking on it to clean it off. Shingo swore he could cum again from the sight alone if he wasn’t so spent.

Standing back up, (Y/N) gently pulled him with her towards the hood, lying back down on it with him hovering over her, a hand the holding the nape of his neck as they initiated a hot and heavy kiss. He could taste bits of himself on her lips and tongue as they mixed. Her hand traveled along his front, slipping under his shirt and hoodie taking in the tense muscles along his abs while the other snaked down from his neck to his arm, squeezing and reveling in the way his bicep and forearms were tensed to hold himself up. Moaning into his mouth with pleasure, their kisses softened, her lips lowering to his neck to kiss, bite, lick and suck, leaving a trail of dark hickeys. Shingo did the same with her, leaving them to crane their necks to give each other room as they continued their ministrations in unison.

By the time they switched sides to do it all over again, she could feel him start to grind against her once more. She wondered how it was possible for him to get hard again only ten minutes later. ‘Is he always fuckin’ horny?’

He loved the way his dick slipped through her soaked folds so easily as he rutted against her, like she was made for him. Shingo released a raspy, strained breath, “Flip over. Now.” Not waiting for her to comply herself, he roughly took hold of her hips flipping her on her stomach, causing her to tense up and gasp from the cold metal and his dominating actions. Adjusting her legs to spread wider just a bit more, he slowly pushes himself into her. The way her soft walls clench around him in that delicious way almost had him cum on the spot. “Hah.. fuck, baby you take me so good… Too damn good.” Once bottomed out inside of her, Shingo snakes his hands to her hips, taking hold of them in a gentle, almost guiding way as he adjusts her body’s position. A stark contrast to his actions not even thirty seconds prior.

“Yeah, that’s it, just a little higher for me darlin’…” he drawls out “…good girl.” He purrs, his hands and long fingers helping to raise her hips just a bit more, and his thumbs press down on the small of her back, a silent gesture for her to arch it inwards until he squeezes her sides in full, her body contorted in the perfect of ways to thrust himself deeper. The string of moans pouring out of her mouth as his reward only boosts his ego and confidence. Shingo has her completely mind-fucked from the way he manages his thrusts. Even with the roughness and sometimes sloppiness of his ministrations, he somehow knows just how much to thrust into her tight, wet walls, how hard, and the right angle to use in order to pull the most enticing of moans from her languid, soft lips that were still glistening with saliva and the small bits of evidence of her being able to make her man cum with her mouth alone.

“Heh… Y’know babe,” he breathed out, “I can’t tell if that shine on my Honda badge is from the rain… or from how fucking wet you are for my cock.” He panted, a breathy chuckle passing through his lips. “Just shut the hell up and fuck me, Shingo!” she growled out, getting tired of his constant yapping. ‘He talks more than he fucks,’ she said to herself, annoyed.

Just as Shingo went quiet and she was mentally relieved he’d focus on more important things, several loud laughs and giggles pulled (Y/N) back to reality, seeing her girlfriends sitting around the large circle table, margaritas still in hand as they continued to yap about their boyfriends. Annoyed enough as is from being rudely interrupted and not getting to relive her memory in full, it got to the point where she stood up on the footrest of her chair, placing her drink down, and motioned to all of them with a finger saying, “Your boyfriends are all delicate little pansies. You don’t even know what it’s liked to get fucked with some real dick. All this “gentle thrust this” and “light, loving nips” that. My boyfriend doesn’t ‘make love’” she quoted with a drawled, mocking voice, “he fucks!” She paused for a moment, sitting back down, crossing a leg over her knee and sipping her drink prestigiously before one of the girls interjected, and the others were watching with wide eyes. “So does he know how to leave you being unable walk the next day, at least?” the girl said in an almost challenging tone.

(Y/N) rests an arm over the back of the chair, much like Shingo does, having adopted some of his mannerisms. “Oh please. He knows 102 ways to fuck up my thighs, leaving me to call work for a fucking “sick day” and still beg for more when he gets home.” Raising her glass in a toast expression, she sipped it, feeling as though she’d won the battle. The victorious smirk she wears also mimics that of Shingo’s when he gets cocky. The thoughts of the many ways Shingo has made her feel and see things during their sinful escapades glued themselves into her mind. Unconsciously, she rubbed her crossed thighs together, wondering (and hoping) if Shingo would be home by the time she left. The initial slow burn of minimal desire was starting to grow like a wildfire the more she thought about her man absolutely destroying her.

The outrageously out of pocket topic had become concluded rather quickly by the clinking of glasses, replacements being delivered quickly, and the seemingly never-ending stream of alcohol and fruity scents filled the table. The girls’ conversations once again flowed easily and the wide variety of topics that came about seemed to fly by. (Y/N) felt as though time went on faster than ever; so fast even, that she barely realized arriving her and Shingo’s shared apartment.

She wobbled slightly and stumbled out of her friend’s car, while another friend helped her out; wrapping an arm around her as she guided her up the stairs to the apartment door. She didn’t see Shingo’s Civic in his designated parking spot, and assumed he was still out doing street racing stuff with his team. Once the door was unlocked, after several failed attempts, (Y/N)’s friend waved goodbye once she had gotten through the door safely, telling her to lock it and get some rest.

She didn’t fully process her friend’s words, but still locked the door out of habit, letting out a sigh while she kept her balance with a hand on the wall, and holding her head with the other. She could almost feel the hangover starting. She could barely remember what the hell her and her girlfriends went out for but had enough thought process to recall it was one of their birthdays and they scarfed down drinks like wild dogs.

What she really needed was for the room to stop spinning and to not use any more of her tired and nearly numb muscles. Slipping off her heels and trying to adjust the tight red dress Shingo bought her for the outing, she stumbled over to the couch, dropping onto it tiredly. Reaching an arm above her head she yanked Shingo’s red hoodie from the arm of the couch and cuddled up to it. Holding the actual hood to her face, she wedges the larger part of it between her legs, hugging it like a body pillow.

At some point she fell asleep, for how long is unknown, however she was jolted awake by the raspy voice of her boyfriend and him shutting and locking the door. “Hey babes, I’m home- the fuck?” He stopped short, taking in her disheveled appearance, and noting she’s still wearing that deliciously tight dress. It had lifted to reveal the bottom half of her ass and the lacy black underwear she wore beneath it while she slept. She had just lifted herself up, sitting on her legs with the larger part of his hoodie underneath her. Shingo watched as the dress hiked itself up further from the movement, the tightness of the bottom pushed past the delicious curve of her ass making it jiggle slightly before scrunching up in a small heap around her waist that it still clung tightly to. His eyes followed it upward seeing that the top half of her dress was pulled downward, seeing as she still held his hoodie in her hands, the larger part still beneath her. He was nearly foaming at the mouth seeing that her tits were nearly spilt over the top more so than when he dropped her off at the bar.

She had a tired but excited smile as her eyes landed on her boyfriend. “Shinnnn! Heheh… missed you.” Her words slurred as her hips rocked back and forth gently on his hoodie, mimicking a grinding movement.

Despite finding her current appearance quite appetizing, the Civic driver was more concerned with his girlfriend’s wellbeing, seeing she’s much more out of it than she usually gets when drunk. He set his wallet and keys down on the coffee table as he approached her, kneeling in front of her and brushing her hair off her face. “What the hell did you get yourself into, huh?” his tone was softer, though still holding the usual raspiness in his throat. “Was a girl-friend’s birthday today and,” she hiccupped, “we had a lot of drinks there.” She giggled, no regrets in her voice as she looked at him with adoring eyes. She was oddly wholesome and warm when plastered.

“I know it was, I dropped you off there, but you went and got how fucked up?” he raised an eyebrow, with an unimpressed expression.

“Pretty fucked up…” she paused, “but you fuck me up better.” Her head tilts to the side, an innocent smile on her face while looking him in the eyes. Shingo’s taken aback by her statement, not expecting her to be so unhinged. He barked out a confident laugh while looking away as if it was common knowledge that he was capable of such a thing. “Alright, ya pain in the ass, sit back on the couch, I’ll get some water and snacks for you. Don’t need you throwing up on me in the middle of the night and have your dumbass not wake me up to tell me I’m rolling in that shit.” Shingo spoke, though his tone held a subtle humorousness to it.

She rolled her eyes, giggling again while leaning back onto the couch as he said as he went into the kitchen rummaging for food that’ll help fill her up more and absorb some of the alcohol, also coming back with two water bottles. Handing her some bread, she started to nibble on it. He was about to hand her a water bottle but noticed how her lithe hand shook some while she ate. Deciding it would be better to do it himself, he unscrewed the cap. “Here, open up.” He lifted the bottle to her mouth, and she did as he said. Tipping the bottle little by little, he watched as she drank it before her eyes suddenly widened and she gurgles out some of the water, putting her hand on his to tip the bottle back to keep it from pouring out. Drinking what was left in her mouth in several swallows then wiping her mouth, messing up her lipstick, all Shingo could envision of that scenario was that it was his cock she was choking on, having to wrap her hand over his that was guiding himself into her mouth only to stop him so she could take a breath to catch up.

He cleared his throat, giving a quick “Sorry baby” before setting the bottle on the table and giving her a towel to wipe her mouth. “C’mon let’s get that make-up off, yeah?” he said lightly, focusing his attention on getting her settled, cleaned up, and less likely to be sick tomorrow from the hangover. Helping her stand up off the couch he pulled her dress back down to cover her both for more modesty and to help his mental state stay a bit more stable before they wrapped an arm around each other’s waists for stability and he walked her slowly to the bathroom. Flicking the light on, he faced her back to the mirror before lifting her gently by the hips to sit her on the countertop. He scavenged through her numerous bottles of products until he found the make-up removal one, taking a bag of cotton pads out of the drawer as well. Setting the pad on the mouth of the bottle he flipped it over quickly then back, wetting a section of the square with the product, bringing it to her face and gently wiping off her smeared lipstick. She had to look down at him and her hair kept falling in her face blocking the light he needed.

Humming in slight disapproval he grabbed one of her hair ties, reaching behind her to pull her hair back and make a loose ponytail. As he did so, she smiled warmly and hummed, plopping her head on one of his arms that was extended as he worked on her hair. She kissed the inner part of his elbow before he pulled away. He made a small laugh noise through his nose before he softly pulled her head down to leave a kiss on her forehead before resuming his work.

Clear of all lipstick, he wet another cotton square to work on her eyes. Holding the side of her face in one hand, she leaned into it as he gently wiped away the eye shadow, eyeliner and mascara, then switching to the other and repeating. As he worked, her hands started to roam along his biceps and chest, her legs wrapping around his waist, trying to pull him to her. He stopped what he was doing to take her hands in his, “None of that right now baby, gotta get you cleaned up and make sure you’re good first, alright?” she whined in protest, unwrapping her legs and swinging them in contempt before complying. “Good girl.” He released her hands, removing the last of her eye makeup before moving to the sink to warm up a towel, wringing it out and softly washing her face of any other potential make up.

“Shinnnn…?” she whined, wholesomely and cutely.

“‘Sup, baby?” he continued wiping away with the towel.

“Hurry up… I wanna help you with that. Make you feel better…” she gave him a pouty, begging face with big eyes as she glanced between his eyes and still apparent boner that does look quite painful. If he knew this was going to happen, he wouldn’t have worn tight jeans. Finishing up quickly, he pat dried her face, then lifted her off the counter, her legs wrapping around his skinny waist once more, her arms wrapped around his neck as she held onto him. He could practically feel the patterns of her lacy underwear through his jeans and her tits squished against his chest as he walked back to the couch. Trying to set her back down, she wasn’t having it, refusing to let go of him.

He sighed, lifting her back up and turning around to sit himself, with her on his lap. She hummed happily, nuzzling her face into his neck and scooting herself closer to him, resulting in grinding her lacy covered clit against him. She loved the way his jeans were wrapped around and hugged the muscles of his legs. She hummed pleasantly at the way the rough denim rubbed against all the right places along with the thin lace of her panties. She started off grinding herself against his thigh slowly, trying to spread herself out against his large muscle to feel it rub her everywhere. Shingo notices immediately and waits to feel her start to move her hips forward once more, and just as she does so, he flexes his thigh and presses her more onto it by the hips, having her grind onto it more roughly.

She moans into his neck, her hands dropping down to press flatly against his lower abdomen and the other holding his hip to gain more leverage in her movements. It felt even better than before, having the entirety of his thigh and the rough material of his denim rubbing against her soaked folds. She continued to ride his thigh, feeling his hand on her back slowly travel down, teasingly, to the small of it. His fingertips reach the bottom of her dress that still covers her upper thighs from when he adjusted it earlier. His nails lightly scratch her soft skin as he pulls the tight material of the dress up and over her ass, licking his lower lip with a smirk as he gets to see the soft flesh jiggle once more.

Half her ass is bare on the outer parts while the centre is mostly covered. He notices her panties have gaps between the patterns, some larger than others and showing skin between the designs. Tracing the bare sections with his fingers, she whines putting more effort into her grinding as if to entice him to fuck her quicker like a bitch in heat.

His eyes shift up to her body, and his free hand lightly takes hold of her hip before gripping it firmly and dragging her hips along his tense thigh earning a high moan of his name from her and a squeeze on his abdomen. She swore his jeans had to have had a wet stripe by now with how rigorously he was dragging her sopping core against this thick thigh.

“Mm, I like these panties… Lean back for me a bit sweet girl, I wanna see if they got those nice gaps in the front.” He helped lean her back, holding her so she wouldn’t fall as his eyes feasted on the sight before him. “Heh, look at that. Can see my girl’s pretty pussy through ‘em. Be real nice if I could eat you out through ‘em too, huh?” she nodded quickly in agreement, a breathy giggle escaping her lips while he ghosted his fingers over the front of the lacy clothing before leaning her forward. She knows something he doesn’t.

“What’s that laugh for, hmm? Something you wanna tell me?” he whispered huskily in her ear, the ends of his hair tickling her cheek. She shook her head, an innocent smile on her face and she bounced on his thigh when he suddenly lifted it to plant his foot flat on the floor. Shingo thought she bounced so cutely, her eyes going wide at the sudden movement and the way her ass and tits bounced so deliciously against that tight dress ended the last bit of restraint he had left.

“Bed. Now.” He growled out, lifting her off him, keeping her stable at the sudden movement, and nudging the small of her back to go first. He gives a generous slap to her ass when she starts scurrying to their room with an excited giggle, finally getting what she wanted. His eyes glued themselves to her rear, the scrunched-up bottom of her dress resting on the curve of her hips to the way her lace panties left so much to the imagination, only covering most of what he wanted.

She disappeared behind the door frame only to be found sitting on the edge of the bed looking at him expectantly, her legs spread, giving him a better look at the gaps in the lace. Kicking the door shut, he crossed his arms, his smirk getting wider when he said, “Hands and knees for me baby, I wanna see that pretty lil’ back arch…Oh and… heh, stick that ass out a bit for me too, yeah?” his voice deepened to accentuate the last word, clearly making it known he wasn’t asking.

Deciding to take her time and give him a little bit of a show, she turned over, crawling a bit more towards the centre of the bed but close enough to the edge be within arm’s length of him, and positioning herself at a slight angle to give him a better view of everything. Her legs were now pressed together purposefully concealing his little surprise. She yanked the hair tie out of her hair, letting it fall naturally before she turned her head toward him just enough to make eye contact without strain. Lightly biting her lip with a seductive smile, she slowly arched her way down to her elbows, bringing them close enough that her upper arms push against her already straining tits that are threatening to spill out of the dress, pushing them together even further.

Shingo breaks the eye contact as she expected to watch her actions like a predator stalking its prey. Once balancing well enough on her arms, she bites the tip of her tongue while arching her back inward, the hem of her dress falling slightly with the dip along with her wiggling her hips to help it fall down a bit toward her waist, showing her lower back and panties in full. She pushed her hips inward, sticking her ass out further like he wanted, and she could hear Shingo let out a quiet, low hum that nearly resembled a deep animalistic growl.

“Spread ‘em.” He commanded with a rare deep guttural tone that had her following his order immediately. Lowering her head onto her hands her legs spread open smoothly, gliding over the soft sheets. “Good girl’s lookin’ so pretty and obedient for me, aren’t ‘cha sweetheart?” his voice quickly returned to his high-pitched tone he uses when he gets worked up. “Lookin’ up at me with those big, needy eyes like that. Makes me wanna ruin the fuck outta you, darlin’.” He said breathily.

Unraveling his arms, he took only a couple long strides to reach the edge of the bed, his hand landing on her back, running up the arch slowly as he admired her form. Continuing to trail upwards to the curve of her ass, his other hand lands on the opposite side, and he squeezes the soft flesh on both sides, admiring how it wants to pour over his fingers from the pressure only to form back so smoothly when he releases. Her soft sighs ring in his ears like music, as he continues just a bit further down, taking in the way the patterns of her panties barely cover anything and its mostly gaps, the sides of her folds completely bare. He can see the extra thin material is soaked through, as he brings a hand to her clit, the other wraps around her thigh, kneading it rhythmically. The moment his fingers press onto the lacy patterns resting over her folds he can see her lightly clench around nothing, making him chuckle. Putting more pressure on it, he toys around with her sensitive clit, earning desperate whines and even her trying to wiggle around to gain some kind of friction from his fingers.

“Fuck baby, look at that pretty glistening pussy…” he bites his lip with a smirk, being able to gather a bit of her wetness on his fingers, he snickers teasingly, “God, babe, you’re practically drippin’ on the sheets… N’ this is all for me, huh?” Rubbing his fingers against her clit with more pressure, spreading the wetness around her entirety, the slight scratchiness of the lace rubs against her like his jeans did and she shivers. She moans his name quietly, begging with a light “Shin…more…”

With no hesitation he pulls his hand away, gripping the inside of her hips and using his thumbs to spread out her inner thighs, giving him a bit more access as he dives in, licking a stripe along her lace covered clit, the gaps hitting harder when his tongue ran over bare skin. Her whiny, breathy moan spurred him on, and he settled for ripping the thin material in half, earning a quick gasp from her and him quickly removing it from her to throw it somewhere in the room. Re-attaching his hand to her thigh to spread it once more, he dove back in, tongue jutting in and out of her wet entrance like a man starved.

It took barely four minutes before he had her convulsing around his tongue, his high-pitched hums and moans vibrated in his throat as he feasted on her juices like it was dessert. Her body shook as she came, delicious sighs and moans escaping her as Shingo continued his work.

“Shin, my turn.” She said cutely, looking back to him as he pulled away, using his thumb to lick the remaining mess off his lips with a smirk. “Oh yeah, pretty girl? You really want me that bad, huh?”

“Mhmm, please, lemme do it. Told you I wanna make you feel better.” She said quickly, already turning around to crawl up to him before sitting on the bed, legs bent to sit flatly on each side of her. “Aren’t you still too fucked up for that? Don’t need you chokin’ on me like you did with water.” He teased.

She grabbed the waistband of his jeans, tugging on them as she begged. “Pleasepleaseplease, it’s always so pretty when it’s worked up and hard, let me fix it, Shinnn.” God, how the hell was he supposed to say no to her when she’s so eager and asking for it like that?

“Fuck, alright.” He sighed, the many images of her working his cock so well getting the best of him. She giggled happily, making quick work of his button and zipper, yanking them down past his hips. He did the rest, removing it all in one go before making himself comfortable in bed, leaning against the wall. As she situated herself between his legs, lying on her stomach and propped on her elbows, he reached over to the nightstand to light a cigarette and take a drag, only to moan the smoke out when he felt her mouth wrap around his cock.

His moan was cut short when he tensed hearing her gag violently after trying to take all of him in one go. It wasn’t normal for her gag, like she had no reflex for it, except for the rare times she pushed herself too far, such as now.

He instantly wraps his hand under her jaw and pulls her up and off him, holding her face as his eyebrows creased and pointed, his eyes hardening in both seriousness and concern. “Hey, hey, you good? Look at me, baby.” He waited till she made eye contact with him, and nodded as she took a few deep breaths. “Fuck, woman, don’t scare me like that, you’re gonna give me a damn heart attack.” He sighed in relief, seeing she was fine, now considering if he should even let her continue. He feels her practically deflate under his touch knowing what he’s considering.

“Alright, hot stuff, I’ll let you have your fill, but you’re gonna do it on my terms tonight, sound good, yeah?” he raised an eyebrow, waiting expectantly for an answer. She nods with a small smile, ready to go again and he hums in return. Putting his cigarette back to his lips to hold it, he reached for her hair, pulling it back and wrapping it around one of his hands, tight enough to have full control over her movements and prevent more incidents.

He gently pushes her head down, her mouth eagerly inviting in his tip and Shingo hisses, fighting the urge to let his head fall back against the wall and snap his eyes shut. Instead, he bites the butt of the cigarette, having to keep a close eye on her and how far down he has her go to keep her from gagging.

“Thaaat’s it, pretty girl,” he strains, his words altered slightly from the stick hanging between his lips before he takes a drag in and slips it between his fingers. Exhaling the smoke, he continues “nice and slow. Haah, just like that, keep it goin’…” he releases a high hum when he feels her tongue press against the underside of his tip, caressing it so gently, in and out, back and forth rhythmically. The hand that’s wrapped in her hair, continues to lightly pull her up and push her back down, never going further than the bottom of his tip.

When she starts becoming adamant to take in more of him again, feeling her pull against the hand at the back of her head, Shingo tsks, pulling her back up, a ‘pop’ sound emanating when her lips detach from his cock. “I know you’re eager to please as ever darlin’, and you know I love your enthusiasm any day of the week, 26/9, but not tonight. Slow and easy, ‘kay? You can do that for me, can’t you pretty girl?” he asked so nicely, gently caressing her cheek with his free hand, and a soft smile on his face, uncharacteristic of him in these moments.

She nodded and relaxed against his hold, no longer fighting him, earning a hissed, “That’s my good girl” from her man when he pushed her back down to continue. His thumb resumes its soothing rubs along her hollowed-out cheeks, his breaths getting heavier each time she sucked on his tip like it was ice cream on a stick. Shingo had to fight himself to not thrust up into her each time he pushed her down.

“Fuck- that’s enough baby, get that ass back on your hands and knees, I’m fuckin’ you.” He growled out, no longer wanting to wait. Pulling her off him by the hair, he untangled his hand from her soft strands, putting his half-smoked cigarette back between his lips, and turning her around to have her ass face him. Pushing her down by the small of her back, he lifts the hem of her dress over her hips, holding onto them over the soft, tight fabric as he pushes into her halfway, a string of moans sounding from her throat as she claws at the sheets, as he pulls back out, thrusting in again, watching with each thrust as her pussy takes in more and more of his cock. He was enamoured at the sight, speeding up his pace to watch himself disappear into her and emerge repeatedly.

“Fuck… you should see the way your pussy swallows my cock like it’s fucking starved.” He gave a raspy chuckle, moving his hand from her hip down her front to give her pussy a few encouraging taps, feeling how its split to take him in. She mewled at his actions, pushing back against him. Averting his eyes to the rest of her, he noted how with each thrust her tits threatened to spill out from the hem of her dress. Making it his new personal mission, he tightened his grip on her hips, his chest pressing against her back as he drilled into her.

Her cacophony of moans was muffled by the back of her hands and the sheets, before Shingo reached over to lift her head, pressing his thumb against her lips, a silent command for her to suck on it. “If you’re gonna try n’ keep it quiet, mind as well make that pretty mouth useful, hmm? You got no idea how fuckin’ bad I wanna watch those nice tits of yours fall outta your dress, so keep that head up.” He said between pants.

Humming against his thumb, her tongue swirled around it, her cheeks occasionally hollowing out. Despite the brutal pace Shingo set, her dress still held its place, so he decided to take his reward by giving the front of the fabric a quick yank, freeing her tits from their minimal confinement, along with a sinful whine emanating from her jugular.

Popping his thumb out of her mouth, he pulled out of her unexpectedly, making her gasp loudly from the loss of heat and friction. Feeling a few encouraging taps on her ass has her turning her head to see what was happening, seeing Shingo lean back against the wall, iconic smirk gracing his features and complimenting his dark eyes when they meet hers. “Come and sit on this cock, baby. I wanna look you in those pretty little eyes when I cum in you.” A high hum reverberated in his mouth; the man sounds as if he’s always edging himself with the way his voice is crafted.

Crawling over to straddle his thighs, he pulls her closer by the hips, the tip of his cock brushing against her wet folds, and pushing her down to take him back in. She sighed deeply as he gently guided her down, bit by bit until he was bottomed out inside her. “Good girl, baby,” he placed a light kiss on her cheek, his beaked nose brushing against the side of hers, the soft, comforting tone of his voice a stark contrast to his next words, “always know how to take me in so good, don’t ‘cha? Know all the right ways to work those hips around my cock, ehhhh?” he dragged out the last sound as she slowly rocked her hips back and forth, occasionally side to side and in small circles.

Detaching his hands from her hips, he reaches for his box of cigarettes and lighter, the small light giving a soft glow on their faces between disappearing, a small smoke trail rising. The familiar sound of Shingo inhaling filled her ears as he wrapped his free hand in her hair, while the other roamed her body before retracting to take hold of the cigarette when he exhales, putting his hand back on her afterwards. Placing both her hands on his lower abdomen she could feel it flex and tense when his breath hitches or he gives a small thrust up.

Tilting her head to the side with a small tug on her hair, he took the cigarette between his fingers, his lips attaching themselves to her neck, sucking, biting, kissing, and licking the entirety leaving a trail of dark marks throughout her neck and collarbones. The whispers of his name ghosting past the lips she bites so cutely when he catches glimpses, spurs him on to switch to the other side and give her a few merciful thrusts deep into her earning pants and whines.

Pulling away to admire the artwork on her neck, Shingo takes a large drag of the remainder of his cigarette, bringing his hand to her cheeks, squeezing them open before smashing his lips on hers breathing the smoke into her mouth with a deep growl. Lifting a hand to grasp his arm, she moans pleasantly into the kiss, hips riding him with more vigor. Pulling away moments later, he tosses the butt of the stick into the ashtray to bring his hand down to her lower abdomen, noticing something. With the hand still tangled in her hair, he pushes her downward, having her look at what he sees as well.

“Feel that, sweetheart? I’m fuckin’ twitchin’ inside of you right now. Fuck, you got no idea how hot you are, riding on my cock all cute like that, those moans make me wanna just…” he lifts her head back up by the chin, his thumb pressing flat against her lips, silently commanding her to open them. The moment she does, he slips it in, pressing it flat against her tongue and using his fingers resting under her chin to close her jaw. “Makin’ me wanna fuck you till we both pass out, heheeehh.” His shit eating smirk grew into something of a nearly deranged smile at the thought. He truly was insatiable.

“Aww, don’t look at me like that baby. Those doe eyes are the reason I’m already this deep in you. Mean, c’mon sweetheart, don’t tell me you can’t feel me up in here…” he removes his hand from her hair, using it to grab one of hers and place her smaller hand over her lower abdomen, pressing down to feel the slight bulge growing and lessening each time she comes down on him, sometimes meeting his thrusts. His eyes thin out even more with his smile growing as he watches her whine against his thumb, her hand tensing under his. “See, baby? Got me all fucked up with that innocent lil’ face o’ yours. Takin’ my cock so fuckin’ well, so fuckin’ deep, you can see it in those pretty walls of yours.” He giggled darkly, pressing her hand down on that spot more and thrusting into her a bit harsher. Her other hand quickly moves to his chest for stability, a little gasp escaping her throat when he pulls his thumb back out.

With both hands squeezing her hips, feeling the slight twitches she’s starting to make, he takes complete control, and she hooks her over his shoulders weakly, trying to stabilize herself further, her forehead resting against his collarbone as he drills his cock up into her the last few times, before she’s mewling his name, while he groans out a raspy “haaaahhh”, head leant back against the wall as they cum. Shingo’s breath hitches several times as his hips stutter, becoming less and less until there’s nothing some seconds later. His girl humms tiredly above him, letting her arms fall to limply hang at his sides.

“Heh, damn, really fucked ya out, didn’t I, sweetheart?” she nodded weakly, the lull of sleep quickly taking her in its hold. His normally annoying chuckle of pride held softer undertones within it, especially as she felt him press a soft kiss to the top of her head, her hair being stroked a few times softly, lulling her deeper even further.

They stay like this for several minutes, (Y/N), having already fallen mostly asleep, while Shingo simply stayed put to admire to her form. Her dress still crumbled around her middle, which he goes to unzip quietly, unwrapping it from her form, before tossing it to the floor. His slightly calloused hands run across her back soothingly and rhythmically, leaving pleasant humms to emerge from his girl as she nuzzled her nose into his neck. The small gesture made him twitch slightly, still nestled inside her. Only then was he reminded of that, and with a somewhat disappointed sigh, he gently lifted her off of him, a cute whine at the loss of fullness passing through her. He lies her down on her side, before rolling out of bed himself, slipping on the nearest pair of shorts and exiting the room.

Coming back moments later with a hot cloth, he lightly shakes his girlfriend awake, and her eyelids flutter a few times before landing on him. He gives his rare soft smiles, reserved only for her in private moments, speaking a soft “Hey gorgeous, I’ma clean you up, alright?”

With a small nod and hum, her tired eyes watched him set to work. “Thank you…” she whispered, yet still loud enough for him to hear clearly. “Mhmm, anything for my sweet girl, right?” his smile now warmer as he gave her a loving kiss which she happily returned.

“Love you, Shin.” She linked her pinky with his left one, leaving his dominant hand to rub the cloth along her skin.

“Mmm, love you more, baby. And no, you’re never winning the ‘I love you more’ battle, tough luck.” He chuckled when she smiled with an eyeroll, earning her a forehead kiss before he carried on. Finishing up with his cleaning, he put the cloth with the laundry, coming back to their room and shutting the door. Handing her his red hoodie, her favourite, she slipped it on, cuddling up to him like a leech the minute he lied back down in bed. One hand wrapped itself to hold her head protectively, the other holding her waist. With her head nestled comfortably on his chest, hand on his stomach and a leg hooked over his they fell asleep quickly, the comforting position and each other’s scents brought a quick and easy sense of comfort and security.

#initiald #initial d #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #shingo shoji #anime #Shingo shoji x reader #Shingo shoji x reader lemon #shingo shoji x reader smut #initial d x reader #initiald x reader #x reader lemon #x reader smut

10 notes · View notes

croik · 1 year

Text

some rambling about TMA

So the first time I listened to TMA, it was as Season 4 was airing, and I stopped after the season was done. Since the sequel’s been announced, I decided to go back to relisten and finally finish, which I did! And overall, I’m really glad I did, because I enjoyed Season 5 and the finale a lot! There’s still so much to love about TMA as a whole, from the acting to the sound design to the statements etc etc. If anyone wants to chat about it hit me up! But in the meantime I’m gonna do the thing where I rate the seasons and chat about them a little.

For me, the seasons from best to worst are 2, 1, 5, 3, 4

Season 2 is just so good. It’s in that good sweet spot where the over arching plot has showed its head but is still mostly mystery. The statements are starting to include repeat characters and call backs. Jon is completely unhinged. I just love getting to the end of a statement and then hearing the extra click, followed by his very furtive “Supplemental.” Even when he doesn’t have much to add, I always look forward to it. Plus this is when we get to hear Gertrude Robinson, the best character!!! Gosh I love Gertrude so much. What a fascinating and bad ass character. Sorry Johnny but your mom is sexy.

Season 1 is of course the OG. I remember not being entirely sold at first because I’m not huge on anthologies, but they sprinkled just enough of the A plot in through the early eps to be really compelling. The first time Jon’s recording got interrupted (by Elias?) was such a good drop and I really looked forward to those moments in the "real world". The season finale could have benefitted from the better sound work of later in the show, but, yeah, of course, right? The first season statements are still some of the most memorable and set up so many intriguing characters and storylines, even if not all of them paid off perfectly.

Season 5 I’m coming to way after the fact, so I’d heard a few things about it going in. I’ll admit my expectations were low. Happily, I enjoyed it a lot! The acting has only gotten better, same with the sfx, and I was a little surprised by how much I liked listening to Jon and Martin just talk about the world. They have a lot of interesting morality and character debates, and the final reveals around Annabelle, the Eye, etc, were very satisfying. I would rate it higher than season 1 except for the very large issue that I just did not enjoy the statements.

I mean, the show has so many statements over the 200 eps, they of course range from legit chilling to kinda lame, but in earlier seasons, a big part of the horror for me came from the disruption of the subject’s lives. We’d get a little setup, and then some poor shmuck had everything taken from them, and either survived traumatized or just plain didn’t make it. Sometimes you’d get a villain point of view! But in season 5, all the statements just bled together for me. There weren’t characters with lives anymore, just snapshots taken in the middle of a never ending horror, with very little context and no conclusion. But even worse, Jon and Martin talk about and treat the statements like an inconvenience. “What, another one?” Martin groans, and Jon apologizes, and they both sigh and go through the chore of giving us the show’s content. It’s a real bummer for me, and I wish they would have treated the statements with more reverence or importance, if they had to exist at all.

Season 3 is a mixed bag for me. On the one hand I like seeing the lore fleshed out. Jon slowly gaining powers is very fun and he gets to meet some really fun side characters (POOR GERRY!) but also some irritating ones (I’m one of those that really couldn’t stand Nikola’s voice). But season 3 also set up a few things I didn’t care for that got cranked up to 11 in season 4: the “I could tell you, but I won’t” play from the villains, and the complete lack of compassion that Jon receives once he starts gaining his powers.

Yes, there’s plenty of reason for Elias to act like he did. But “I’m going to withhold information for literally no reason at all” is something I really hate, and his explanation for it after the fact doesn’t soothe my annoyance with it during relisten. It is just so frustrating, and not in a way that feels like “yes I like hating this antagonist” but in a “the plot demands he doesn’t share too much” way. Then there’s Jon, which brings me to season 4.

Season 4 is the only one that I have to admit I actively disliked. I wanted to listen again because I didn’t remember much from it, and wanted to come into 5 fresh – only to realize that not much happens in 4? The entire season is either A) someone complaining that they don’t know what to do next, or B) someone complaining that they can’t talk to the other characters. If there’s anything more annoying (IMO) than characters refusing to share info for no reason, it’s for the reason of “I’m keeping you safe.” Then there’s Jon. Not to excuse some of his shittier choices, but there were times it was very frustrating bordering on unfair that he took so much of the angst and blame of the other characters. He spends several entire seasons talking about how hard he’s trying to keep hold of his humanity, while gaining almost no sympathy from anyone – just their suspicion and scorn when he falls short. Even Martin (in season 5 mostly) jabs all the time about how spooky and weird he’s become. And he is spooky and weird, but there are so few points in the show where Jon receives honest, unconditional sympathy, and I feel so bad for him. He’s trying really hard! I just want to give him a blanket and some soup, and tell him he did his best.

The bright spot of season 4 though was Jon and Daisy, for sure. I really enjoyed that unexpected friendship, and I felt for Jon in season 5, and his disappointment when they were reunited.

And that’s it, I guess!? TMA is still one of the best horror podcasts around, and I am looking forward to TMP, even if the prospect of more multiverse has me a little wary. If you read all this I hope to see you around fandom <3

#tma discussion #croik chat #Gertude is the character of the podcast #It sounds like she lived through a fascinating timeline

21 notes · View notes

tarosin · 3 years

Text

the great adventures of y/n, tommy, wilbur and phil

requested: yes/no

an: part 7 of the great adventures series - a rollercoaster of emotions

warnings: cursing, jokes about death (like the vlog) , didn’t proof read as its 6am sorry for any mistakes

it had been around a week since you last spoke to tubbo, the pair of you got into a heated argument and honestly you didn’t want to be anywhere near the boy. no one heard from you since you and tubbo blocked each other, ranboo would talk to you about how you need to forgive and forget and Tommy would do the same to tubbo eventually you unblocked each other however apart from that it was pretty much useless neither of you were willing to talk to the other person, it was just one of those things that needed time, soon enough you’d be friends again. at least you hoped that would be the case. later that day Wilbur sent you a message asking what time he should pick you up tomorrow not wanting to argue you let him know a time and went off to get ready for the night.

The car ride to Alton towers was pretty quiet the majority of the ride was spent playing random car games like eye spy or singing along to the radio as there was no traffic you got there rather quickly giving you longer in the park. you loved theme parks and Tommy knew this so he took the opportunity to invite you and get you out of the house, he also knew he would need the support. Phil began recording as you all made your way through the park the sky car was first so you could get to the other half of the park Tommy made it pretty clear he wasn’t the biggest fan of this and you and Wilbur didn’t help his cause by discussing the recent crash in Italy that killed a group of people, you pointed out all the rides you passed teasing Tommy whilst Wilbur interviewed him on why he wanted to hit 10 million subs, as soon as Tommy mentioned the girl from college your eyes widened and you sat trying not to laugh as Wilbur and Phil sat telling him to call her. Tommy looked at you trying to get back up but you responded by telling him you want to speak to her.

once off the sky car you stood with an arm around Tommy's shoulders as Wilbur spoke to the girl who you’re hoping is in on it and that they’re not calling up the poor girl unexpectedly. as soon as you were informed that her favourite ride was the smiler Tommy pulled you into a hug hiding his face in the crook of your neck

“Are you serious”

“you’ll be fine it’s the safest ride here...if you ignore the crash”

“y/nnnnn”

the four of you walked around the park looking for an easy rollercoaster as you make your way up to the smiler, the blade caught Wilbur's eye so the three of you made your way whilst Phil decided to stay back to record, you sat next to Tommy reassuring him that he’s going to be fine and how it can’t be that bad as a family with a young child got on the ride after you.

“if I pee myself will you laugh at me”

“yes..actually that’ll make it easier for me”

“Please don’t do that Wilbur”

“only for you y/n”

the ride started slowly however the speed soon picked up you sat laughing as Tommy went on to make references about technoblade and how he’s never going to die. soon enough the three of you began ‘singing’ the lyrics to road trip in an attempt to calm down a little bit. was it working? no. a few minutes later the ride came to an end as you made your way off of the ride you heard a child screaming about how fun it was

“awe”

“how is that six-year-old shouting I loved it”

“are we cowards”

“yes, yes you are”

you made it to Phil first and rambled on about how fun it was before Wilbur and Tommy made it to you both wanting to go home

on your journey to the next ride, Tommy pointed out claw machines and dragged you to them, Phil had a go first and didn’t win the dog Tommy wanted, you had a go determined to win however like Phil you didn’t win

“This is bullshit ill buy you a toy dog”

“Why are you never satisfied”

“Good question”

you walked away from the machines with the others Tommy complained that he was being forced to go on the rides, you pointed at the smiler and Wilbur announced you could all go on that now, the rest of the walk was pretty quiet after that. soon enough you were in the queue to go on duel, you were walking with Phil not realising that Wilbur was currently telling your best friend that he was going to die, the only reason you found out was because Tommy ran up to you asking if he was going to die

“Tommy, no who told you that... Wilbur stop laughing it’s not- it’s not funny”

“y/n you’re quite literally laughing”

you put your finger on your lips and walked off. you sat with Phil so you could have a break from Tommy screaming in your ear as soon as Tommy yelled there were guns the ride began, you weren’t the best at this ride you missed the target a few too many times than you’d like to admit, once the ride was over Tommy made the mistake of laughing about how low your score was you made eye contact with Tommy and placed your hand on his shoulder

“Tommy... you screamed at everything the entire way around. if that ride was any longer i’m afraid I’d lose my hearing”

“didn’t you also do shit Tommy”

“fuck off”

and with that you left the ride walking through the gift shop, you and Tommy were like little children picking up anything that was covered in bright colours, you and Tommy found a squishy monster and named it Clarence you ended up getting attached and Wilbur stayed with you as you paid for it whilst Phil and Tommy were leaving the shop

“Phil we lost y/n and Wilbur”

“sorry y/n got distracted”

you all continued walking to the next ride Tommy instantly got distracted by the dryer outside of the river rapids ride and spent a good few minutes asking to go into the dryer. at this point, you noticed another toy shop and ran off to that one whilst they argued with Tommy about the dryer a few minutes later you met up with them again as you began making your way to the next ride

“what I hate the most about Phil is his kindness”

“wasn’t kind enough to let me win on duel”

“I pray on his downfall”

Phil turned to you only to be met with you nodding as Tommy goes on to talk about hating his generosity

“Phil I've been thinking about you... it’s ruined my day”

“mine was ruined by Tommy screaming at stupid o clock in the morning”

“y/n it’s 12 pm”

“okay and I usually wake up at 3 pm this is early for me”

you stood in the queue for river rapids, as much as you wanted to make Tommy calm down you hated this ride and Wilbur saying there was a chance of drowning made you hate it even more

“y/n will we be fine”

“no this is horrifying I remember the incident where someone was dragged under a ride like this”

“Y/N”

“what are you two thinking about then”

“I’m thinking about the beyond”

“I’m thinking about the sweet release of death”

“you might be going there”

“no, we won’t”

you and Tommy began to panic as you got closer to the ride, Tommy announced the floor was moving which tricked your brain into believing that the floor was moving, Wilbur was still talking about you all dying in a few minutes whilst laughing at Phil trying to make him stop despite the fact he was clearly laughing. Tommy got on first as you were making your way to a seat Tommy pulled you over to him so you were sat together. a worker came over and told you all to keep your seat during the ride

“can I get off”

as soon as you finished your sentence the ride began to move making the others laugh

“ill take that as a no”

a few minutes later you forgot you were scared as you were too busy laughing about the fact that so far out of the four of you the only person getting drenched in water was Phil. this newfound confidence didn't last long the ride began going faster and you and Tommy got drenched in water

“We made it through the second most dangerous part”

“heh...”

you looked at Phil tilting your head waiting for him to confirm that Wilbur was just trying to scare you again. your thoughts were interrupted by Wilbur beginning to speak to the camera

“Alton towers is a very safe and risk-free theme park fun for all the family”

he flipped the camera so the three of you could be seen Phil was laughing Tommy had his head in his hands and you were sat with your hood over your head hiding your face so you couldn’t see what was going to happen. Phil told you to hold on but he was interrupted by Wilbur using the camera to record the four of you together again it was clear you and Tommy were not having the most fun on the ride compared to the others. the ride crashed into the small wall next to the ride causing it to jerk forward making the four of you hit your leg

“my fucking thigh”

“y/n there are children nearby”

“y/n, Tommy you two are lucky to be alive”

you and Tommy turned to face each other then looked back at Wilbur who was continuing to chant that you’re lucky to be alive clearly ignoring Phil who was telling him to stop. eventually, the ride came to an end and you all got off, Phil helped you walk around for a minute as your legs felt extremely weak after that ride

“you okay now y/n”

“yeah yeah thank you, Phil. I'm never going on that ride again”

you all made your way to the centre of the park Wilbur disappeared as you and Tommy stood begging Phil for cotton candy, your only argument being that you really wanted it

“please Phil”

“We can have a little”

“we’re growing Phil we need more than a little”

“it’s diabetes in a box”

“it’s pure joy”

“yeah it’s fun in a box let us get some”

“stop being a dick”

Wilbur came running out of a shop carrying as much cotton candy as he could shouting for you and Tommy to take some and run which you gladly did. the pair of you sat on the grass eating as much cotton candy as you could

“ITS BLUEBERRY”

“that is so sugary”

you and Tommy both grabbed a fistful of cotton candy waving it at the two adults in front of you both, resulting in Phil calling you both goblins, they both walked away leaving you two to enjoy each other’s company for a little while whilst they had a break from the pair of you screaming.

“that’s..that's Tommy and y/n”

it was almost time to face the smiler but before that, you had to conquer oblivion again this was another ride that terrified you but Tommy's reaction to the ride made you laugh for a good few minutes until you realised you were in the queue

“oh fuck. we are going to die”

“you’ll impress the girl and y/n you’ll impress tubbo”

“ill buy her flowers”

“This is a death trap” you went on first and sat a few seats away from the middle Tommy not far behind you

“if we die ill never forgive you”

“you’ll be fine”

“will we though”

“I mean”

“Tommy she was hesitant to answer that get me off this ride”

just like last time the ride started just as you finished trying to get off the ride

“y/n you really need to stop asking to get off the rides it makes them start earlier”

the way to the top of the ride was mainly just you and Tommy yelling curse words trying to stay calm

“Phil do we have to”

“Why could I not stay with Wilbur”

“awe look at the view”

“can we just stay up here- oh shit don’t look down”

“any last words”

“lovely knowing you all”

just before the ride was about to go down the drop Tommy grabbed your hand only letting go for a minute whilst you got off of the ride, as soon as you were making your way to Wilbur so you could all go on the spinball wizard ride he held your hand again keeping you close. your way to the ride was a range of Wilbur telling you all about the smiler or Tommy telling you all he was worried he was going to piss

“what the fuck is yours and Wilburs obsession with announcing you might piss on the ride”

you sat with Wilbur for this ride as he was the only person you hadn’t sat with yet and Tommy sat behind you both, you and Wilbur spent the ride screaming, yelling song lyrics or saying your goodbyes

“for lmanburg”

“Should I be worried.. you did you know create an explosion”

you spent the rest of the ride laughing before it came to an end. you all made your way to the smiler making jokes about how it’s all the girl from college wants to see him on.

“you ready Tommy”

“let’s go home”

“no”

“y/n you’re supposed to be on my team”

the four of you made your way through the gates ignoring Tommy who was yelling about it being a prison simulator, you sat at the end next to Tommy

“so this is safe”

“apart from the crashes yeah”

“y/n? is it safe?”

“it’s safe Tommy I can see you’re genuinely scared I wouldn’t lie in a time like this..maybe”

you and Wilbur agreed to become his wingmen and a few seconds later the ride began, you spent the ride laughing quietly as Tommy began confessing his love

“POGCHAMP”

“I WISH I SAT SOMEWHERE ELSE”

as soon as the ride ended you stood as a group again and called the girl from college, Wilbur practically yelled about how Tommy went on the smiler only for the girl to ask who Tommy was and how she wasn’t friends with him

“it’s okay mate”

“you okay Tommy”

you and Wilbur pulled Tommy into a hug.

a few minutes later you all made your way back to the car park as it was getting late. once in the car you handed Tommy the squishy monster you both named Clarence, Tommy screamed whilst pulling you into a hug before asking you how and when you were able to buy it. when you were halfway home you began to get a migraine Tommy pulled you into a side hug so you could rest your head on his shoulder and have a nap for the rest of the journey back home.

a few days late you received a message

tubbo: I miss you

y/n: I suppose I miss you too

tubbo: that’s good because I’m outside please let me inside

y/n: on it!!

taglist:

@l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @c1loudee

506 notes · View notes

anashins · 3 years

Text

Another Kind of Blackmailing

Title: Another Kind of Blackmailing

Pairing: Ten x You

Genre: (slight dark) romance, smut, tsundere!ten, fluff in the end

Warnings: toxic behavior, loooong fingering session, protected sex

Word Count: 4.163

Summary: Ten has always been a shadow in your friend group - that is what you thought. But when he demands sex in order to keep his mouth shut for something you have done that might ruin lives, you learn that he loves to stand out between the sheets.

______

His smirk was sly, the corner of his lips tilted up, but not radiating happiness. He was wearing an expression of which you couldn’t tell whether he was kind or the polar opposite. His dark hair was cut at the sides, the part on the top framing his forehead and giving him a touch of innocence which was emphasized by the sparkles in his eyes - but he was far from innocent.

It was his smile. His smile told you otherwise and betrayed his kind eyes.

His name was Ten. You knew him, more or less.

He was the best friend of your friend’s boyfriend, and apart from just getting a glimpse at him every now and then when you guys went out together, you basically knew nothing about him.

Ten had been introduced to you when your friend Hana announced her relationship to his best friend one night you had been out together with the whole clique. It had been a solemn, nonchalant and fun evening at the bar, everyone joking and fooling around, yet it was always Ten who stood out – in a very peculiar way.

He was always there physically, but at the same time, his presence was hard to be noticed. He was like a shadow, following his friends everywhere, and like a shadow, he had also behaved. He hadn’t talked much, had never made conspicuous motions or any other acts that stood out.

Ten always stayed in the background, smooth, calm and quiet – it was always like he wasn’t there at all.

So he surprised you even more when he had suddenly appeared in front of your apartment. You both had been out with your friends the night before and spent the majority of the night in the club. It wasn’t even midday yet and you were still hungover, even after a long, hot shower. The unwanted visitor had happened to appear right before you were about to go back to bed and relax for the rest of the day.

You didn’t know what to expect from Ten’s sudden visit. You stared at him, in surprise and slight shock, because out of all people, you hadn’t expected him to ever look for you. You had never exchanged any words aside from plain hellos and goodbyes. The rest of the time, he was a shadow for you.

However, now that his intense gaze was meeting yours, accompanied by that sly smile, you had the feeling that you were actually facing the real Ten for the first time.

“What do you want?” you asked, your grip tightening around the door knob as every possible reason for his visit flashed through your mind, but none of them actually made sense.Why would a boy you didn’t know suddenly seek you out?

“Well,” he started, and you wondered how soothing his voice sounded. Had you ever heard him speaking properly before? “Won’t you already know by now why I’m here or do I need to jog your memory?”

He grinned at you as you frowned, shifting his position as he rummaged through the pocket of his jeans. Shortly after, he pulled out his phone and unlocked it.

It was the moment in which he began to grin even wider that made your heart almost stop, and like a lightning that shot through your body, you suddenly knew what he might know as well. It was almost ridiculous how this event had been erased from your memories so fast. Probably because to you, it didn’t matter at all because nobody had seen it.

Or so you had thought.

“What if your beloved best friend finds out that you kissed her boyfriend?” Ten asked as he stared at his display, that damn smirk still lingering on his lips, and you wondered whether it would ever vanish.

“Look,” you started in panic. This was not possible. You had thought you could easily brush it under the carpet and forget about the incident, but things apparently turned out to be so much more complicated with evidence in the form of a picture now. “I can explain this. It’s not like how it looked. Actually—“

“Ah!” Ten lifted a finger and waved it to the right and left as though he wanted to chide you. “He is my best friend as well, and I can’t watch how everything will go downhill in his relationship because of you.”

“But that’s not true!” you protested and almost stomped your feet on the ground.

This Ten guy was mischievous and cunning enough to just jump to conclusions with only a simple picture as evidence. He didn’t even know the story behind it! It really made you scared of what he was possibly capable of with the snapped photo.

“I don’t need your poor explanations,” he returned, now sounding more serious than before, and it made you freeze for a second.

You didn’t know this guy at all, yet he possibly held your future in his hands. He could make your best friend and clique leave you and ruin a relationship if he only said one false word. He could twist and turn the story to make you the one who had behaved wrongly, although it had been the other way around.

If he was going against you, for whatever reason he might have, your life would break apart. Inwardly, you cursed at Ten because you and his best friend had agreed on forgetting about the incident and letting it pass.

“Why? What do you want?” you pressed through gritted teeth.

-----

Ten’s lips were surprisingly soft and warm on your neck, not rough and demanding at all. Yet, your body was stiff under his ever since he had placed you onto the bed. You didn’t make a move, because you wanted to show him that you were still mad over this whole situation, but against your expectations, he had been utterly gentle with you.

And you started to like it.

With a certain mindfulness, he had undressed you, and although you hadn’t looked at him, keeping your sight stubbornly to the ceiling, you had felt his hands moving under your shirt and surprisingly, they were soft as well, lifting your shirt up and undressing you without making you feel uncomfortable, not even the slightest bit.

It felt odd to be touched by a guy you didn’t know that cautiously, even if you overlooked the part that he wanted your body as a reward to keep his mouth shut. Though, you couldn’t go against him since that picture could destroy so many people's lives.

Ten was an asshole, was the first thing you had thought when he dragged you to the bed, and you wouldn’t have agreed on it if you hadn’t had one night stands before which made it probably easier to accept - or was it the mere thought that he was utterly attractive as well that you couldn’t resist to get a little taste of him?

Yet, regardless of how much you promised yourself not to enjoy it, not to give in, you still had built a certain affection towards the situation, towards him.

For someone who had blackmailed you into having sex with him, Ten was gentler, more attentive, more careful. He hadn’t kissed you on the lips yet. Instead, he had removed your shirt and pants without any hectic, but with ease, cautious as to not touch you too roughly or on the wrong spots.

Ten was now pulling down your bra straps, sliding them along your shoulders as his fingertips moved over your skin like a feather which made you shiver slightly while he removed your bra. You closed your eyes for a moment as he went down on you and placed your legs carefully over his shoulder. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and dragged the clothing down to have you fully undressed in front of him.

He took his time undressing you, and regardless of how strange the circumstances seemed, you grew comfortable with the way he treated you – not as an actual reward, a thing, but as someone to actually appreciate wholly.

When you opened your eyes, you were directly looking into his as his face was hovering above yours. It was then when you realized that he wasn’t a shadow in the back anymore, but someone who had now stepped out of the background and pulled you into his world where only the two of you existed.

His gaze wandered down for a moment and you couldn’t tell whether he was looking at a certain spot on your body or whether he was only thinking of something, but when he locked your gazes again, you could see a flash of insecurity on his cheeks in the color of rose.

You reached out your hands and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him a little closer so that the tips of your nose almost touched. It was strange that, besides the fact that this was all just a business, you grew a certain craving for what he was doing to you. Perhaps, you thought, perhaps this was not going to be so bad like you had imagined after all.

Ten himself was not like you had imagined, that was for sure. You had always ignored the shade, seeking for the sun, but now that he was enveloping you, there was no turning back. He was too intriguing.

“Kiss me,” you said, and as though Ten had only been waiting for your permission, he instantly locked your lips within a second.

It was not a passionate and heated kiss from the beginning, but a rather surprisingly mellow one with his warm lips on yours. You had imagined how they would feel on yours when he had caressed your neck, but the reality was so much more beautiful than your fantasies. His movements against your lips were slow and intensive, more chaste than lewd. As he deepened the kiss, he rolled his tongue with yours, passionate enough to make you crave for more.

You didn’t want him to stop – and he didn’t.

Where your hands had been on his neck before, you now tried to discover his body like a map, letting yourself get lost in the landscape. You trailed your hand over his shoulder, feeling every inch of his skin that was unexpectedly soft. His muscles flexed under your touches as you wandered with your hand down his upper arm, shifting it to his chest to let it rest there.

You could feel his heartbeat, fast and jumpy, and if he hadn’t been kissing you at this moment, you could have let out a chuckle. Was he nervous? For someone so cool and mischievous before, he was quite pantsy now.

But your last thought quickly vanished when he suddenly caused an intensive feeling to spread through your body that made you moan into his mouth shamelessly.

“Mhmm!”

You closed your eyes and grabbed onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin as you felt how his slender fingers glided further into you. He smiled against your lips as he parted from you. His movements inside you had made your breathing become irregular. All you could see was that mischievous smirk from before again, and you started to hate it once more, yet you didn’t want him to stop.

“More?” Ten whispered, his lips close to yours.

He slid his fingers in and out of you, slowly, to tease, then faster, to heat up things, your hot walls always welcoming him with a certain anticipation. Whenever he slowly pulled out, he expected you to make a sound in order for him to push them back in. Tit for tat.

“Yes,” you purred.

“More?” Ten repeated, his lips slightly brushing over your lobe and his voice seductively stroking your ear.

You bit your lip and nodded, telling him, “Yes, yes!” to emphasize that you truly meant it.

By now, you had already forgotten about the picture, about his reward – and apparently, he had too. As two of his slender fingers dipped back into you, you weren’t able to think of anything anymore but him. No shadow, no darkness, only pure delight.

You scratched his neck as he pushed his fingers further into your centre, causing you to gasp out of surprise and rapture. The only lifeline was his own body over yours as you held onto him, letting his movements make you drown in a sea of pleasure. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, sometimes so slow that it almost drove you mad and sometimes so fast that you thought you’d reach your peak very soon.

Ten’s expertise caused you to clench around his limbs, and it made you soaking wet with every move he conducted. You could also feel his own excitement increasing as he breathed irregularly against your ear, grinning in satisfaction as ragged moans escaped your lips.

“Aaaaahh!” you suddenly screamed loudly and opened your eyes widely as you grabbed firmer onto him.

He had found fun in playing with your clit, and you had brought your legs together over the sudden overstimulation on the sensitive bundle of nerves, but Ten reached down and spread you even wider for him.

“You said you wanted more,” he teased.

You turned your head aside and covered your mouth with your hands, muffling all the noises you were making as he played with your most sensitive spot. His thumb brushed over your clit, only lightly at first, increasing your anticipation for the former feeling even more. It was then when he started to pay special attention to that spot that you were having a hard time to hold back your moans.

He pressed his thumb on your mound, circling around the tip over and over again. He flicked your clit, caressed it with a certain pressure, and even used his other fingers to take it in between them and roll it tenderly to make the feeling of rapture more intense as you shamelessly spread even wider for him. With every motion, he had caused your orgasm to coil up in our groin.

As for now, you didn’t care whether your groans sounded shameful, you just let out every noise he caused you to make. You had grabbed the sheets to the left and right of you, entangling your hands in the fabric just because you thought you had to burst any time now.

And Ten loved it. He loved the shameless moans you let out, your suffering cries and your struggles to breathe. He loved how your body twitched and fidgeted under his touches, how he could make you so weak, and how you were obviously demanding for more.

Ten then pulled his other fingers out of you fully, leaving you as a whimpering mess, and you shouted out his name again, disappointed over the loss.

“Ten!”

His fingers were now sliding up and down your wet folds, dipping into your core every now and then just to pay attention to your clit again. He glided over your centre, along your folds, and teased your sensitive nub even more by stroking over it rather firmly, yet still tender. And with every stroke, he was almost triggering your orgasm to explode, yet he always withdrew again to pay attention to your folds.

Ten lowered his head and kissed your cleavage, and this act felt so intimate to you that you began to savor every touch of his lips on your skin. Without neglecting his work on your lower area, he kissed down to your breasts, caressing the thin and sensitive skin around your mound for a longer moment with long and warm kisses before he moved further to your peaks.

Taking your nipple in between his lips, he sucked on it and slid his tongue over your tip, making it more sensitive to his touches by covering it with his salvia. Withdrawing his mouth, he blew over the spot, letting you shiver slightly due to the coldness before he smirked and started to plant kisses on you again.

His free hand trailed up your bare side, wandering from your naked thigh carefully and affectionately up to your stomach, rested there for a while before he further traced to your other breast. He cupped it with delight and massaged it fondly with his hand.

There was a certain carefulness that came along with slight firmness which made you glory his touches and kisses so much. This was surely not about a reward anymore, but about two people who actually craved for one another and wanted to give in to the pleasure.

As Ten withdrew, you knew that he was going to go the whole way now, avoiding to let you cum in his hands and truthfully, you preferred to share this moment with him inside of you.

“Do you,” he began and you nodded.

“Nightstand.”

He took off his jeans and tossed it to the ground, rolling the condom over his length and then laid himself back on top of you. His face was right above yours, and you two were smiling at each other.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and turned your position so that he could easily place himself properly in between your legs, now feeling him against your center. Yet, Ten still waited for a little while, keeping your gazes locked, and you couldn’t see what was going through his mind, but you just wished for him not to stop.

And he didn’t.

He pushed into your core, slowly and deliberately, sliding into your hotness bit by bit while your wet walls were anticipating the moment he’d fill you out to the fullest. You closed your eyes for the moment and stroked the back of his neck, feeling every inch of him gliding into you further and further.

When he was fully inside you, he didn’t start to thrust directly. Instead, he leaned in and kissed your lips once again. And once again, you were surprised by how attentive he was, not wanting your body only, but also wanting you to feel good.

His moves were deliberate, and although he had started off slow and sensual, the gentleness was now mixed with firmness and strength. You could only break the kiss to breathe for air and catch your breath when he pumped in and out of you in a steady rhythm.

“Please, don’t stop,” you pleaded, and with a pleasant grin, Ten nodded and leaned in to caress your neck, planting hot, wet kisses on your sides as the slight moans you let out reached his ear like a melody he grew to love even more with every tone.

His thighs slid along yours while he had his arms propped on either side of your head for support. His skin brushed over yours when he pushed out just to slip into your hotness again, your wet walls clenching around his length with every thrust that he conducted. And the stronger he went on, the more you were pushed back into the mattress, the sheets already wet and soaked from the act.

You wrapped your legs around his middle, letting out a pleased “Aaaahhh…” as you felt him a little deeper and a little more intense than before, hitting the right spots in this angle. Your fingers dug into the skin of his back as Ten rocked both of your bodies rhythmically, pushing you forward with every thrust.

It was to both of your liking, and you wondered how perfectly your bodies matched, how you didn’t need to go through a certain state of awkwardness to find the right rhythm and how everything had gone so smoothly from the very start.

As Ten’s thrusts turned a bit sloppier and his movements a bit faster, you could feel that he was close, and so were you. He reached out to grab the headboard, his forehead glistening with sweat as he hovered over you. When you shifted your position a little, you spread your thighs a little further and lifted your bum a little higher.

And then you let out a cry of pleasure as another thrust triggered your climax. You could still feel him moving inside you, his lower body sliding against yours and his burning kisses on your skin, but everything turned into a blur as your orgasm hit, making you lightheaded and causing you to experience the most blissful feeling in the world. You let out a long moan, rolled your head back and held onto him as the waves of pleasure almost washed your senses away.

Your body shuddered under his as you slowly tried to catch your breath, your legs giving in and nearly falling apart, yet you didn’t let go of Ten. His upper body parted from yours and he held his head low as he gave you another long thrust, burying himself deep inside of you and reaching his climax with a groan.

He fell limply on top of you right after, your chests heaving on top of each other as you tried to catch your breaths.

“There is no picture,” Ten then blurted out as he rolled off of you, leaving you in a surprise by this sudden confession.

“What?” you asked bluntly, not really comprehending what he had just said.

Unexpectedly, he pulled you on his chest, laid your head in the spot between his arm and neck, and dragged the blanket over you two to cover your bodies.

“There is no picture,” he repeated, insecurity swaying in his tone as he stared at the ceiling. “There has never been one. I watched you both from the very beginning. I knew that it hadn’t been your fault that he went outside shortly after you did, and I also knew that he had mistaken you for your best friend since your hairstyle is the same. The darkness only added to the confusion. Not to mention that he was a little bit more drunk than he should have been. I knew that it was only a short peck in confusion and that you scolded him right afterwards.”

As for now, you didn’t really care about the story behind this bluff, because everything he had said was true. There was nothing you needed to clear up anymore, but there was another thing that made you think ever since he had mentioned it. You got up and supported your position with your elbow on the mattress as you leaned in to him.

“You knew all this time?” you asked perplexed, but rather surprised than angry. “You have followed me?”

As Ten turned his face to you, you could finally see his slightly flushed cheeks. It was only a light shade of pink, but it was there and suddenly, you smiled.

“To confess… I have been following you all this time,” he explained with a shyer voice. “My eyes were always on you whereas you never seemed to notice me. I’ve never had the guts to approach you for a decent conversation apart from hellos and goodbyes. When you went outside all by yourself last night, I thought I could finally gather enough courage to talk to you. But I saw you with him and I got mad, I guess.”

So, this was it. He had always been a shadow in the background, but he had always been your shadow, following you with his eyes silently, but with much affection – whereas it had been you who had shut him out from everything, but mostly, from your own attention.

Behind the façade, Ten was only a shy guy who was probably awkward with people, a bit insecure and too shy to approach a girl that he liked. Behind that façade, Ten had been jealous that someone else could have taken interest in the girl he had laid his eyes on. His jealousy and madness had led him to act on his feelings - childish and catty as he had gone overboard with blackmailing you.

But Ten had never treated you wrongly.

His tenderness and carefulness had constantly proven to you that you could have stopped whenever you wanted him to, he had always been waiting for your own responses to his acts, never demanding too much.

Behind the mischievous smile, there was only a shy boy who wanted to get to know the girl he liked.

“Hey Ten,” you started after a while, and now it was you who wore that sly grin, “do you like me?”

And now, the redness coloring his cheeks couldn’t be missed that easily anymore. It was enough of an answer for you. With a laugh, you laid yourself beside him again, and with pleasure, he wrapped his arm around your middle and pulled you a little closer.

“How about a date later?” he muttered after a moment while he played with some strands of your hair.

With a smile, you answered happily, “That would be great.”

573 notes · View notes

kiridarling · 3 years

Text

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒

izuku midoriya | ft. ceo!au + praise + exhibitionism + breaking and entering + body worship + f!reader + more! minors dni.

— 3.8k words

“When I saw you this evening, in that ballgown, I knew I just had to have you. But I can't be a gentleman for much longer, as much as I'd like to."

You’ve always hated Chopin.

“L’œuf mimosa, Madame?”

After turning down the poor waiter whose arms quiver under the weight of the plates, you turn back to your red wine and people-watching. The ballroom is full of golds and reds, the amber lighting illuminating the intricately decorated walls. And you sit in the middle of it all—you and your 147 billion net-worth, with a ball gown that’s caught at least half the aristocratic asshole’s attention, not that they were very loyal to their wives in the first place.

You're not here for their attention, though. You’re strictly here for business—and frankly, you want to do nothing more than sock these fat business moguls in their chubby faces until their teeth fall out and demand they pay their taxes. But, seeing as you’re the only woman here who isn’t a gold-digging wife, you bite your tongue.

You’ve always dreaded black tie events, but as you’ve said, duty calls.

A whine filters through the speakers, followed by two amplified taps and a clear of a throat. The murmur down as the auction's owner takes the center of the stage, stilling in front of the next piece of art—hidden behind a black veil—before adjusting the tie to his business suit.

“I’m glad that you all could be with us tonight. I have both a great privilege and honor to host this event,” he announces, bulbous head already growing damp under the heat of the stage lights. “Now that we're almost at the end, I'm sure you won't be disappointed. Saving the best for last, as one does."

He includes a casual wave to his comment and the audience erupts in a flurry of chuckles, though not for long. As he walks over to the piece, hand raised and ready to reveal, silence seizes the room by the neck.

"Well. Shall we?”

The audience balances on the edges of their seats, with millions of wide eyes and thrumming chests in anticipation. A smooth flick of a hand and the black sheet is removed, and there sits the only piece you’ve had your eyes on all night. She’s even more beautiful up close.

“El Bacio, The Kiss. Francesco Hayez, 1859.”

The grip around your glass tightens. The brilliant blue from the woman’s dress in the oil painting may as well burn your eyes, and the surrounding murmurs peak with your interest. You know it's yours without question, though—you can outbid almost anyone in this room. Anyone that matters, anyway.

“This is the original version, originally commissioned by Count Alfonso Maria Visconti of Saliceto. It was donated to the Pinacoteca di Brera in 1886 and went missing in 1937. Starting at ten million.”

You try not to scowl. The fucker jacked up the price by two million.

“Twelve million,” the man says as he recognizes whoever lifted a hand. You sit tight, your hands throbbing in your lap for the right moment as you survey the room for anyone who could possibly pose a threat. You find none.

The bidding continues. The price elevates from twelve million to fifteen to thirty to fifty. You raise a hand, finally, fingers splayed wide and confident to signify a five.

“Fifty-five million.”

The room falls silent; you try not to smile. You know for a fact no one wants this painting more than you do, and you’re determined to have it.

“No one else?”

His eyes scan the room but no one makes a motion. It’s yours.

Until there’s movement from your peripheral.

“Sixty million!”

You eye whoever had the audacity to raise their hand, only to be met with a rather peculiar sight—a man, roughly your age, with slicked-back green hair and a hand twice the size of yours, lifted lazily in the air.

With a huff, you find yourself thrusting another five into the air.

“Sixty-five millio—Seventy million!”

You know that green-haired (probably) trust fund baby has got to be doing this for fun because the poorly hidden smirk hidden behind the hand he rests his chin on is more than obvious.

You dislike him already, immediately categorizing him with the rest—another sleazeball.

“Seventy-five million!”

“Eighty million!”

“One hundred million!”

In your defense, you were getting frustrated.

Either way, the green-haired stranger backs off with a nonchalant shrug, and it makes you burn this discontent. The business mogul-turned-auctioneer steps off the stage for another twenty-minute intermission and folks turn to one another for conversation. You sigh, simply satisfied that you’ve gotten what you came for.

You find yourself faintly puzzled by the boy with the green hair, and you're sure it's solely due to his age. Frankly, you've been the only one under thirty in the Top 100 Richest People since you achieved such a feat, and the fact that you haven't heard of him is...puzzling. But it doesn't matter. Clearly, he’s just another fellow looking to put another pretty thing in his foyer—you doubt he knows a thing about art, and definitely not an appreciation for it. You find solace in the fact that it's the new addition to your precious art collection instead, and will be owned and taken care of by someone who actually enjoys it.

“Good evening.”

You jump. Wrapped up in all of your inner turmoil (complemented by inner bragging, naturally) you fail to notice the greenette cross the expanse of the ballroom and make himself comfortable in the open seat next to you, despite your lack of approval.

“Hello,” you say, unsure of why he's here. He offers a hand to shake, Rolex glinting under the golden lighting.

“Izuku Midoriya,” he introduces, and you suppose shaking his hand won’t hurt.

“Your name?” He snorts, raising a cocky eyebrow. You scowl.

“Does it matter?”

“Not particularly.” Izuku rests his forearms on the table as his evergreen eyes rake your figure up and down. “But if you prefer to remain nameless, be my guest.”

“[Y/N].”

“Hmm?”

“My name,” you clarify. “It’s [Y/N].”

You’re not exactly sure what possessed you to tell him your name so easily. Maybe the fact that most already know who you are, and the fact that this man—this stranger—doesn’t know who you are, irks you a bit.

Okay. It irks you a lot.

“Well, Miss [Y/N],” Izuku tilts his head sideways. “I think that’s a very pretty name.”

Your body betrays you with a light gasp. Stupid thing.

“Well. I’m bored,” Izuku announces childishly, relaxing against the chair. “Lets go somewhere.”

You roll your eyes at his asserted dominance—in no way does he expect you to go with him, does he? You raise an eyebrow.

“No.”

Izuku clicks his tongue as if it were a buzzer, and more importantly, as if you were wrong. “Why?”

That has you scoffing. “I don’t know you.”

Izuku’s eyes flash with a challenge and it’s gone just as quickly. He leans forwards, crowding your personal space yet again.

“I told you my name, no?”

“You did,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest and straightening your back. You feel too small. “But I know nothing about you.“

“Well,” Izuku places an inquisitive finger on his lips, and it’s almost mocking, the way he takes a moment to think about it. “My name is Izuku Midoriya. I like...katsudon and hero movies. I’m here because I have too much time and money on my hands, and I’m, most importantly, bored.”

Your eyes narrow. “What do you do for a living?”

Izuku’s lip curls, and it’s downright sinister, “I'll tell you if you come with me."

You roll your eyes, and he takes both your hands in his. You don’t pull away, but you don’t reciprocate it either.

“Where?”

Izuku shrugs, “Wherever the wind takes us.”

Your stomach growls loudly, interrupting your fairly intimate conversation and dying your cheeks pink. Izuku raises an eyebrow.

“I heard they’re feeding us escargo for dinner.”

“Ugh,” you sigh, shoulder sagging. “Looks like I’m not eating, then.”

But there’s a glint in his eyes, and you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t one in your own. There's an ebb in the discourse, a beat, before Izuku's nodding towards the exit.

“Fast food?”

Wendy’s hits different during a Parisian midnight.

“—and so I had to be like: No Kacchan, you can’t hotwire his car to blow just because your food was, and I quote, lukewarm.”

You snicker behind a fist, digging your fancy heels into the grimy cement sidewalk, Wendy’s frostee in hand. Izuku hasn’t let go of your hand since you two left the fast-food joint, and for some reason, you haven’t pulled away.

"Violence seems to be a reoccurring theme with your friend," you say, laughing when Izuku nods in agreement, eyes stuck on the full moon hanging high in the air.

"You remind me of him, actually."

You raise an eyebrow, unable to see the correlation at all, "Because I'm a loud and angry and I like to blow things up."

"Or, because you're strong—independent. The type of woman to make men turn tail and run, you know?" Izuku turns to you with a lopsided grin.

You hum, averting your eyes to the moon. It's a stupid question, one that's all too loaded yet empty at the same time, and you hate that you hesitate to ask it.

"Why haven't you ran, then?"

"Easy." Izuku lets a smooth shrug roll off his shoulders, "I like strong women."

He continues to pull you to an undisclosed destination, the two of you stumbling through the heart of Paris with his suit jacket around your goosebump-ridden shoulders. People stare, but for the first time in forever, you find that you don't care much.

Finally, you two reach Izuku's "big reveal." You gaze at the magnificently lit french building in confusion, the golden under lights contrasting both of your beings against the navy blue sky.

"The Louvre?"

"Mhm," Izuku says, and he looks more than giddy. "Have you been?"

"Once," your voice is weary and you're sure he senses it, his grip tightening around your own. "For a fundraiser...but it's midnight Izuku, ho—"

But he's already tugging you to the right, dipping between columns and arches until you reach the back of the building. Izuku turns to you and whispers:

"Watch this."

It's hard to tell what he did exactly, especially with no light—it's just a bunch of jingles and ticks. Though, the moment you can't escape the sense that this is beyond sketchy, a lock clicks, and a door whines open.

"Hurry. And take your heels off," Izuku whispers, tilting his head towards the entrance. You hear the crunch of a leaf and see the beginning of a white flashlight curl around the building and fuck, this place has to be crawling with security guards, doesn't it?

"Don't tell me what to do," you grumble...as you take off your shoes. (Because you were going to do it anyway.) You enter and he closes the door behind the two of you, submerging you both in complete darkness.

"Security's only on the outside," Izuku grins. "They don't expect us to get inside, so as long as we're quiet, it should be fine."

"Until we have to get back out again," you say, huffing. Your heart pounds from the adrenaline because frankly, you've never been one for adventures, and breaking into a historical french museum is miles out of your comfort zone. "Seriously, did you think this through at all? What happens when we get caught?"

Izuku sighs, turning to you with a pout before grabbing your free hand again. "Women worry too much. C'mon—I wanna explore."

"You—let go, you misogynistic assho—"

You're cut off by a finger to your lips. Izuku bends down so he’s looking at you straight on, eyes dark as he sternly whispers, "Do you want us to get caught?"

It's not the prospect of getting caught that makes you falter, though—it's the way his stare pins you in place, voice swollen with that air of dominance you claim to hate. You have to tighten your grip on your heels to ensure they don't hit the ground.

"Now," Izuku‘s strangely childish manner returns, tugging your hand once your panicked whisper-yelling ceases, "Shall we?"

You roll your eyes, but your bare feet patter against the cold Louvre tile anyway. And you've got to say, the museum is much nicer when it isn't crawling with people.

"Mona Lisa's forehead is bigger than I thought," Izuku observes with a finger on his lip. He's on the wrong side of the railing, his nose close to kissing the glass protecting the piece. You snort, dropping your head to pinch the bridge. He turns to give you a weird look.

"What?"

"Nothing, just," you shake your head, the cool wood of the railing digging into your forearms. "Did you actually want that painting?"

Izuku frowns. "Which one?"

"El Bacio."

"Mm," the greenette hums as he thinks, blinking to the corner of the room."I suppose. You seemed like you wanted it more, though."

You roll your eyes, "So you cap at eighty million?"

Izuku shrugs, hopping the railing. Seems like he's finally done insulting poor Lisa, "I capped when you started to sweat."

You huff, but stomping instead of walking isn't so intimidating when you're barefoot. "I wasn't sweating."

You see a hidden smirk on Izuku's face once you catch up to him, and it's frustrating and insulting, to say the least. Both of you proceed down a hall of statues. "You're much easier to read than you think, Miss [Y/N]."

"And you're not as perceptive as you think, Mister Midoriya."

Izuku chuckles at that, shaking his head. "Well played, Miss [Y/N]. Well played."

You're not sure why your chest swells, but it does, and it takes both you and your limited lung capacity off guard. But you don't have much time to sort it out—Izuku's grabbing your hand again, and redirecting your attention to the last statue in the hall. You recognize it and frown.

“Cupid and Psyche?”

The silver moonlight pours in through the window, spilling down Cupid’s tipped wings and the softest points of the Psyche’s curves. Izuku hums in confirmation, hands sliding to encompass your hips as his chin hooks on your shoulder.

"Well done, Miss [Y/N]."

His voice deepens—it's coarse and heady, and gets your blood rushing in a way breaking and entering never could have.

"Amore e Psiche, Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss. Antonio Canova, 1793."

You fail to understand why this statue stood out to him compared to all the others, but the circles Izuku’s thumb presses into your hips signifies that you’ll find out soon.

"Cupid represents desire, and Psyche, the human soul," Izuku says, running his hands up your sides. "Together, they make the perfect union."

Dipping his nose into your neck, Izuku inhales, and the hands around your waist tighten, if the smallest bit. "Psyche was the prettiest woman in the world; so pretty she rivaled Venus' beauty with her own. It didn't matter if it broke rules—Cupid knew he had to have her."

The gentle nudge of a neck evolves into a set of butterfly kisses, tracing the column of your neck until his mouth reaches your ear. A hand slides to gently cup your breast, and the other to your thigh.

"Miss [Y/N], when I saw you this evening, in that ballgown, I knew I just had to have you. But I can't be a gentleman for much longer, as much as I'd like to." Izuku groans into your neck, hips gently grinding forwards. "So, it's up to you what we do next—I could drop you off at your home to probably never see you again, or...”

Izuku shifts, and you can feel his hardening cock against your back. “I can bend you over right here. Your choice.”

You hesitate, determined to think this through—but Izuku's wandering hands and rutting hips prove to be too much of a distraction.

"Fine," is all you say, before whirling around, grabbing the greenette by his dress shirt, and slamming your lips onto his.

Izuku kisses back with a grin—like he knew you were going to say yes—and places his hands around your waist yet again, backing you up against the marble statue.

"Sit on the platform," he breathes into your mouth. You frown.

"Like, the platform to the statue? Caus—"

"Yes on the statue, now sit," Izuku demands, but he doesn't give you much room to protest, forcing you onto the marble platform. Hiking your dress to your waist, Izuku's calloused palms slide up your inner thighs, spreading them apart to make room for himself in between. He pauses.

"No panties?"

You flush red—from the exposure or the comment, you aren't sure—but you huff in defiance nevertheless, determined to stand your ground and keep some of your dignity. (Though you're positive Izuku can feel you shaking already.)

"I'm wearing a dress," you defend weakly.

Izuku hums behind a bitten lip, lying a heavy thumb on your clit. It's enough pressure to make your thighs tense but not much else, until it flicks downwards.

"I wanna taste you," Izuku growls with dilated pupils once he finally tears his gaze from your exposed body. "Can I?"

Heat surges through your veins, and you let him pry your thighs apart as you respond with an unsteady, "Yeah—yeah, that's fine."

Izuku's chest rumbles with a growl as he closes in on your pussy, hands gripping underneath your thighs. You whimper when he trails butterfly kisses down your inner legs, the grip you have around the skirt of your dress tightening.

"So pretty," Izuku groans, chuckling when you shiver as he flattens his tongue against your slit, "My Goddess."

With that he dives in, almost sending you toppling with the force. The moonlight dyes his green locks a navy blue, and you can't resist seizing them into a fist when he pushes a finger in.

"Feel good, Gorgeous?" Izuku says with a knowing smirk on his sinfully glossed lips. Another digit enters and it has your toes curling as you nod. “Shit, you’re tight.”

Izuku spits on your pussy and it’s downright dirty, before looks at you under forest green eyelashes, the other hand finally letting go of your thigh in favor for pulling at the top of your dress.

“Izuku, wha—“

“I wanna see your tits,” he huffs. You’d laugh at his enthusiasm if you weren’t so aroused, and you find your hands joining in the flurry. The moment they’re free, Izuku’s mouth latches onto your breast in an instant.

“F-Fuck, ‘Zuku—“

“You sound so good when you moan my name, sweetheart,” Izuku groans, and you jolt as he tweaks a bud.

“Say it again.”

He pinches your nipple and clit at the same time, and it has your legs kicking as you squeal his name again.

The Izuku growls and it's nothing but feral, and another yelp of his name has him pulling you to your feet to the point where your noses almost touch. Aggravated from being so close before the greenette ripped his fingers away has you scowling.

"Wha—"

"Can I fuck you?" His breath ghosts your lips. You hide your shock by a roll of your eyes.

"Do you always ask stupid questions?"

Izuku hums in contemplation before grabbing you harshly by the jaw, to the point where your cheeks squish into your eyes and your lips pucker. "Say it, Bunny."

"I just sa—"

"Say 'I want you to fuck me, Izuku,'" he says with a cruel snarl. "’Hard.’"

Your eyes dart from his heavy gaze to the statue, and you can't help but feel more fragile than glass. "I litera—"

"Say it, brat."

"I—" you try but nothing comes out, and you blame that darkened stare of his, "I w-want you to fuck me. Izuku."

Izuku inhales sharply, the fingers cradling your face tightening before he speaks again.

"Good girl."

He spins you so your hands lay on the statue's base, yanking your hips back and flipping your dress so your bare ass is exposed to the cool air.

Izuku's palms caress your behind, kneading both globes before he pulls you against his bare cock. (When he took off his pants is beyond you.) He slaps his cock against your clit until you huff in frustration, turning around to shoot him an angry glare.

"Today, Izuku."

The greenette blinks out of his absorbed gaze on your behind in favor of glowering you down. You waver under his glare despite your best efforts.

His cock kisses your entrance and then all of it is in you at once, and his size is enough to make your inner thighs ache from the stretch. You bite your lip in an attempt to muffle a moan, but that crashes and burns fairly quickly.

"O-Oh shi—"

"You said today, didn't you?" Izuku rasps, before pulling out and stuffing you full at a quick and steady pace. Your hands scramble for proper purchase against the statue—without breaking it, for gods sake—but the harder he fucks you into it, the harder it is to stay upright. "Quiet, baby. We're not supposed to be here, remember?"

You nod frantically, teeth digging into your bottom lip. The thought of getting caught, you, of all people, while being railed against a marble statue—

Izuku moans in your ear, a hand moving between your thighs to rub at your clit. "Oh, you tightened when I said that—you like the idea of getting caught, Bunny?"

You respond with a choked moan, thighs quivering with an impending orgasm. Izuku groans as you tighten around him again, but they quickly turn into shushes.

"Bu—"

"I-I know," your voice cracks and it's absolutely pathetic. "But I can't—"

Izuku's hand wraps around your mouth to the point where his fingertips just barely brush your ears. You whine, eyes fluttering as the new grip adjusts the angle ever so slightly, and pushes him so much deeper.

"You're gonna kill me," Izuku says, wheezing out a laugh. "I—fuck Bunny, I'm close."

You whimper behind his hand and nod as if to say me too, and you're sure Izuku understands from the way he groans before he speeds up in all aspects. "Good. G-Good—cum for me baby, I know you can—"

Your toes curl into the marble floor as the coil in your gut snaps, knocking the wind out of you and sending you thrashing in Izuku's arms. You hear the greenette curse and shudder behind you, stuttering hips slowing to an eventual stop. Both of you stand there for a moment, comfortable interrupting the silence with nothing but your heaving breaths.

"You okay?"

You chuckle. It's dry and scratchy, and your lip throbs from biting it so hard, but it isn’t...aggravating, per-se. "You sound worse than me."

Izuku laughs at that, though it waters down as he pulls out with a hiss. "I don't think worse is the correct adjective here, Miss [Y/N].”

You snort. Back to “Miss [Y/N]” it is, then.

Your ears catch the distinct wail of ever-increasing sirens, but you don't think much of it until the side of Izuku's face starts flashing blue and red. Both you and the greenette falter, sharing a look.

"Police! Hands in the air!"

i wrote this while watching a hysterectomy in physio aah (also yes, the french police speak in english leave me alone skjdhfgk) — sun

#— 𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔 #izuku midoriya #deku x reader #deku smut #izuku smut #midoriya smut #bnha smut #mha smut

660 notes · View notes

mrpenguinpants · 3 years

Text

Xiao: String of Fate [Soulmate AU] HCs

Hey anon! Okay, I’m just gonna level with you. This request? This request right here? Probably one of my favourites. I went feral over this at 3am and my monkey brain fabricated an entire life story for Xiao when he’s not even out yet.

I sorta combined this request with my feral plot idea (which is honestly a 20k word fic at this point), but ahem, I hope you like and np^^ gotta make so many offerings so Xiao hopefully blesses me. Have a lovely day anon!!

--- Xiao Semi Series

[ Friendship ] [ Falling in Love ] [ Cuddles ] [ Protective ] [ Affection ] [ Jealously ] [ Opposites Attract ] [ Fainting ]

[Masterlist]

---

[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @sunnshiii @hanniejji @snowy224 @mayumintsu @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki @legionqueensav @youaskedfurret

---

Xiao: String of Fate [Soulmate AU] HCs

The red string of fate is a concept that those who are connected by a red string are destined to meet and fall in love. Regardless of place, time, or circumstances. The red string can never be broken unless one connected passes away.

Alatus

For the past few days, Alatus would wake up early and scale the mountains of his small village to pick Qingxin flowers. The morning dew would still be on the petals before the sun came by and evaporated everything. It became a bit of a small joke that the elders used to make, that a earth spirit would appear at the break of dawn to place the flowers for harvest. Not that Alatus minded, he was grateful that whatever celestial spirt was out there made sure to replace the ones he took. Remembering to always offer a prayer of thanks and a small offering, you would scold him if he didn’t.

He quickly scaled and vaulted over the wooden beam and slipped into your room. He winced at the sound of his shoes landing on the wooden floor but you didn’t seem to stir. You were still sleeping peacefully as Alatus took the fresh flowers to add to the ones already in your small vase beside you. They were your favourite flower after all. He reminisces about when you were both children and how you would drag him to mountains and tell him all about how at the very top there was his beautiful white flower. But you were both too young with small limbs to even attempt to climb it, plus if you somehow managed to do it, it would take too long and both your parents would be worried. It never seemed to deter you as you reasoned that a wind spirit would help your journey. Come to think of it, you always put a lot of faith into celestial beings. But he goes along with your plan, never one to contain your desire to explore.

He’s suddenly snapped out of his memories when he hears a soft knock on the door. It quietly opens to reveal your mother. She gives him a small smile as he looked a bit guilty for getting caught breaking in before waving him over to hand him something. You left him with a small bamboo package that you had wanted to give on his birthday. On top of the bamboo, you had wrote a short but warming message that you were worried about him always running off outside and that he might catch a cold. He smiled softly at your words, ingraining the way your ink brush flowed down the bamboo sticks into his mind. He offer’s a small thanks as she gives him a comforting hug. Whether for him or her he doesn’t know and she leaves.

He carefully untied the brown string keeping the package together to unravel a blue, white, and gold sleeve. He silently marveled at how beautiful it was and held it up to the light, it almost seemed to shine with subtle highlights. He has no idea how you managed to create this, he had never even seen the dye of red or gold used in clothing before. Perhaps the celestial beings decided to bless you for your prayers and devotion. He gives one small squeeze of your hand as he ties the sleeve to his arm and he slips out through the same window he came from. He looks up at the mountain’s he’s scaled before setting on the tallest one. One so tall the elders say that it could reach celestia.

As he scales the mountain he can feel a taint tug on his thumb, before it slowly disappears. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, breathes in deeply, and continues upwards.

The Golden-Winged King

One of his first adepti duties was to investigate the place he once knew as his home. There had been a dream eating demon that had been spreading curses onto unsuspecting youths. Putting them into eternal sleep before they bodies finally succumbed and they passed away. It was horrible and Alatus swore he would do everything in his power to make the dream demon suffer. Unfortunely, seeing as this was his first time venturing out back into the moral world and still recovering from his trials, he was assigned to work with a senior anemo adepti. One who was well-versed in using polearms that could “show him the ropes” as mortals would say.

This other adepti was too loud and erratic for his tastes compared to the calm and peaceful friend he once knew. Always getting side-tracked and flying around Alatus like some overgrown pixie. Never taking anything serious even though the both of you were tasked to destroy evil. But he held his tongue since this was his senior, gripping his sleeve when he was especially annoyed. This only seemed to spur the other anemo adepti further and inquire about the sleeve. Naturally, Alatus was hostile and guarded. That was first time he ever raised his voice which instead of becoming offended or angry, the other adepti was impressed.

From then on the other adepti seemed to want to interact with Alatus at any given moment. From checking in with him on his latest mission or if he heard about how the delicious flowers tasted. Who even ate flowers? Either way, every instance of communication was brushed aside, he would always make some weak excuse that he needed to train. Which lead to the other challenging him. The both of you were the same element so it would be a good time to see who was the best at wielding it. Overtime he began to look forward to your weekly spars. Even finding a bit of joy out of them. Ever since he had climbed up the mountain it had been constant training and hardships but when it came to these spars. It was fun. Alatus began to open his heart a tiny bit, let’s himself relax and fall into amusement when he see’s his partner’s face pop over him as they hovered over him.

He even began to feel his locked up heart start to beat a bit faster whenever he saw his partner perk up and wave at him. Whenever you threw your arm around him he never brushed you off like he used to, just basked in your presence as you rambled about how this stuck up bird was running everyone through the ground with her demands. It was amusing for fresh adepti’s to see you both interact. The ever stoic and aloof Alatus that taught them through strict rules loosen up immediately and smile whenever your head popped up to scold him for his training methods.

It was fun. Until the day he became possessed and killed you with your own weapon.

Guardian Yaksha

Guizhong was concerned. Ever since Rex Lapis had saved the poor adepti man from his possession, he had locked himself in. He still fulfilled his duties with alarming accuracy but it seemed that he completely on auto-pilot. He could stand in the pouring rain without realizing it or he always seemed to be in such a rush. Asking to do anything that needed to be done rather than relax. He was going to end up running through his long years at this rate. She brought it up to Rex Lapis and his fellow Yaksha but none of them had the time or want to check in on him. It was a time of war after all. Except one.

You watch him stand in the rain. Any attempts from you or Guizhong to ask if he was better always failed and you didn’t want to push. But this was already past the point of simple concern. So the next time you saw him relapse you walked over and embraced him. He usually carried himself as stiff as possible but you swore you were holding one of Rex Lapis’s pillars. You braced yourself to get thrown off or at the very least be questioned but none of those things happened. He just stood there and to be honest, you weren’t sure if that was even more concerning. You both didn’t say anything even when the rain stopped until Rex Lapis had summoned you both over.

You and him never developed a close friendship but he never seemed to brush you away whenever you sat beside him ever since you hugged him in the rain. A bare acknowledgement on good days but that was alright. Just sitting in each other’s presence when the war wanted to be quiet somedays was nice. On harder days when fighting took too much of a toll on your body you would lean your head on his shoulder. He never shrugged you off or seemed bothered by it, in fact, it almost seemed as if he leaned back against you. You both never spoke during these moments, just a silent understanding looming over you both.

Then when Morax announced that Guizhong had passed away, you felt as if you somewhat understood how Xiao felt. You didn’t even register that you had walked back to the same place Xiao was standing back when he was in the rain. The war was finally over but after everything that had happened to get to this point, it was hard. You knew that a few of your other Yaksha’s were ready to return to Jueyun Karst or return to earth. You blink quickly as you feel two arms wrap around you and you realize how funny fate seems to be. You choke out some unintelligible noise that’s a mix between a laugh and a sob as you cling onto him and let your bottled up emotions pour out.

He’s the last person you see in the newly established Liyue, wishing him luck in the rest of his journey, as you return to the earth. You aren’t sure what you’ll turn into but you hope that the peaceful atmosphere you both created will remain.

Xiao

It was completely out of the blue when you asked if he wanted to come on an adventure with you. You were both sitting under the tree that held the Wangshu inn up when you suddenly sat up and pointed in some far off direction across Liyue. Asked if he wanted to come with you after the lantern festival was over. He was a bit taken aback, you were a traveler first and foremost but you never asked if he wanted to come with you. You had always assumed that he wanted to stay as a protector of Liyue but after what Morax, now Zhongli, had said and how it was time to him to step down. You decided to ask him. It didn’t have to be far, you both could go to the stone gate if he wanted, just if he wanted to come with you anywhere.

His first instinct is to decline but you end up cutting him off before he can say anything.

“I know you have your reasons and loyalties to stay as Liyue’s protector. That’s why I’m not asking for you to accompany me across Teyvat. But I don’t know when I’m going to be back and after what happened in Liyue, I thought it would be nice to just, take a break, and go anywhere. You don’t have to accompany me if you don’t want to but I think it’d be nice to wander together,” you say as you continue to look across the land from the balcony. He can’t see where you’re looking at exactly but he ponders your words.

To wander and go anywhere. Just the two of you. He’s never even considered leaving Liyue even after all the demons were replaced with weak hilichurls and slimes. He gazes up at the tree’s leaves, looks further to see celestia, and even further back to his home. Guizhong always said he needed to relax and live in the moment of now rather than running past everything but was he really ready for that?

“Ah, sorry was that a bit too forward? I really didn’t mean anything ba-”

“Yes. Let’s go,” Xiao cuts you off as his eyes shine in a new light of determination, “Wherever you want to go, I will come with you.”

You blink once, twice, before a bright grin stretch's across your face as you quickly ask if he’s joking. He’s not, and you cheer excitedly as you list off different places you’ve wanted to explore. Perhaps the shoal? Maybe even further into the chasm? Actually wait, the electro archon has closed that area off so maybe not there. Xiao patiently listens to you ramble as he smiles softly. Your excitement is addicting and he can feel his heart flutter just a bit. How long has it been since he felt this way? He can feel a small tug on his thumb, he looks down but he can’t see anything, but there’s a comfortable weight that he’s felt has been missing for a very long time.

---

If this seems interesting and people seem to enjoy it, I can post the actual fic when Xiao banner drops as a bit of a catalyst. It’s basically the same idea. Though it’s kinda long so I have no idea when that’s going to be finished. It might turn into a thank you gift instead. (or ahem, you know, if you wanna commission me and see it earlier there’s that haha just kidding;;).

Honestly, I took a lot of liberties. I read the lore on adepti and Xiao but most of this is my monkey brain and previous semi xiao fics (which you don’t have to read but it would be helpful to see extended parts). Phew, this took a lot of time. It’s not as cute as my other fics but hopefully you all enjoyed it^^

Actually, nevermind. I hate this. I’ll keep it up since I haven’t posted this week yet but I hate this.

941 notes · View notes

wotanidiott · 3 years

Note

maybe some draco angst with prompts 20, 17 & 15 (angst ones)? thank you 🤎

—————————————————

The Other Potter

summary - after a heated argument, draco finally confesses, or rather shows you, his hidden feelings

pairing - draco x fem reader, mentions of ron x fem reader

house - gryffindor

time period - 7th year

word count - 2.6k

warnings - very angsty, violence and a whole lot of swearing

a/n - ahhh this is my first official post skdjkssjskksjssk !!!! i hope it’s okay i made the reader harry’s sister? i just randomly came up with the storyline and thought it would fit well with your request ... anyways i hope yall like it <3

prompts

“are you going to cry now?”

“you’re scaring me”

“you’re nothing. you hear me? nothing”

"Y/N!" You heard the distant calling of your name amongst the chatter of the mass of students in the Great Hall. Cocking your head slightly forward from your seat at the Gryffindor table, you found the source of the noise as they barrelled into the entrance with a frantic look in their eyes.

"Neville, what's wrong?" You question him, as he flops onto Seamus Finnigan, seated adjacent from you. Seamus furrows his eyebrows at his friend's breathless state, then looking at you with the same confused expression on your face.

Neville audibly heaves for a good minute, catching his breath from the seemingly long run he underwent.

"Harry, he—" His sentence is interrupted by a lengthy inhale of oxygen.

You perk up at your brother's name. A plethora of questions surfacing in your mind. "Harry? What happened? What did he do now?" You stand up, placing both hands on the table as you peer over at the short-winded boy now laying flat on the floor, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“He ... he—”

"He what?" You persist.

"Courtyard. He's— A-And Malfoy. "

That's all you needed to snatch your bag off the floor and bolt for the courtyard.

You realised you had developed some sort of attraction to the infamous Slytherin Prince around the start of 5th year. Although, you had assumed it was just a phase. In what world could you ever be attracted to the one guy that makes you and your brother's lives a living hell?

So that's what you had concluded it was. Just a phase. One that had seemingly fizzled out once you started dating Ron and now call a silly mishap.

But that wasn't true at all, was it?

A series of scenarios flickered through your head as you begun to wonder just exactly what had happened for poor Neville to nearly faint from shortness of breath to fetch you.

It must've been urgent.

As you reach the Courtyard, a crowd has formed around the oak tree, most likely watching the interaction between the two boys. Your hand finds the wand tucked in the pocket of your robes, gripping it tightly as you push through the cluster of people to get to the front.

He sees you before you see him.

"Ahhh, how nice of you to join us. Now the other Potter's here, we can really have some fun" Malfoy announces. Sniggers erupt from the group of Slytherins behind him as you finally reach the centre of the circle.

Your eyebrows knit together in perplexity. Malfoy is stood in the middle, surrounded by his goons but there's no sight of Harry.

"Where is he?" You snap at Malfoy, hostility lacing your words as you look around the gathered students agitated.

"Y/N, I'm here!" Harry's voice calls from above. At first your skeptic but as you look up, there he was. Floating in mid-air. Along with Hermione and Ron.

"You bloody git. I'll get you back for this Malfoy. I swear—" Ron is cut off by the single wave of Blaise Zabini's wand, effectively silencing him.

"They look rather comfy up there, Potter. Don't you think? Care to join them?" Malfoy pulls his signature smirk, eyeing you up and down.

The hold on your wand tightens as you whip it out and point it at him, stepping forward. "Oh, I wouldn't if I were you. Unless you want a repeat of fourth year? Don't think we all forgot about you running stark naked around the corridors after your little ferret incident."

The crowd bursts into laughter at your witty comeback. Even Theodore Nott couldn't contain his laughter and eventually gave in when he saw the humiliated look gracing Malfoy's face.

Malfoy's gaze on you hardens, his upper lip curling in contempt as he too takes a step forward. If looks could kill, this would be it. He flicks his wand upwards, still maintaining eye contact and you hear the thud of 3 bodies on your left, followed by grunts from the hard contact as he relinquished the golden trio from his spell.

"Yeah? No wonder Weasel left you for the Mudblood. I would too considering what a bitch you are." He hisses with no remorse.

Gasps emit from the crowd at his harsh riposte.

As much as you'd hate to admit it, the comment hit a nerve. You remained civil with Hermione and Ron after having found out he cheated on you with her but the pain was still there. A guilty expression flickered over the couple's faces as they shot you an apologetic look.

"Awww, are you going to cry now?"

Your wand lowers slightly from the impact of Malfoy's insult and he takes this as an opportunity to cast a leg-locking curse.

However, he underestimated you. You managed to block the spell with a simple protection charm before quickly shouting "Expelliarmus!" Malfoy's wand jumped into your open hand in a fleet of a moment and he was left defenceless.

"I may be a bitch but at least I'm not a disappointment. It's obvious that your Father would rather have anyone— hell, he'd even have Harry rather than you as a son" you scoff, narrowing your eyes at him.

You felt a surge of satisfaction when an emotion that resembled hurt flashed across his face. But it went as soon as it came.

Something in Draco snapped. It was one thing to ridicule him in front of his peers but to bring up his Father? Now that was a whole different ball game. Before he could even stop himself, a barrage of insults came pouring out.

"Are you even hearing yourself? At least I have a Father. And I have a Mother. You? You have no one. Your parents are fucking dead, Potter. You don't even have any recollection of them—"

"MALFOY—"

"Shut the fuck up, Potter" He snaps at Harry then instantly directs his attention to you again. "And as for your sorry brother, I don't even see you two together anymore. He'd rather be around the two people that betrayed you—"

"Draco, mate, I think that's enoug—" Theo tugs on Malfoy's sleeve to get him to stop but he's persistent on speaking his mind.

"Piss off, Nott. A-Around the two people that betrayed you than— than a pathetic excuse for a witch. No one likes nor cares about you. You're nothing, Potter. You hear me? Nothing."

Malfoy appeared deranged in the way he lashed out at you, chest heaving from his rant and wild eyes that looked as if he could kill you right at that moment.

But you didn't care.

You were past the point of caring. You knew all the things he said to you were true, you sometimes even thought it. But it felt like a whole new revelation when he stated it aloud. In front of everyone. Soon the whole school would be talking about this.

But you didn't care.

It was then, Draco knew. He knew he messed up. He took in the wide eyes and gaping mouths of his peers around him. Harry's enraged expression. His friends' guilty body language; despite the fact they played no part in the insult.

Then his eyes swept over to you. He had knocked the life right out of you. You looked ... numb. With your faintly quivering lip and glassy eyes, he realised he had overstepped. Usually, you'd retaliate and he would too until you were both separated by your friends or the professors.

Though, this was different. This was overdoing it.

"R-Right." You managed to say flatly but the distress was clear in your words. The tears in your eyes were threatening to spill and you felt sick. Sick to the stomach about the fact everyone had heard and were most likely going to realise that about you too if they hadn't already.

You had to leave. Bolt out of there before you became a weeping mess.

You turned on your heel and made a beeline for the closest abandoned corridor you knew by heart. You couldn't go to your dorm because Harry would find you there and you wanted to be alone for the time being.

You ignored your brother's calls to come back aswell as Hermione's and a few other fellow Gryffindors you had befriended over the years.

Tear after tear came rolling down your flushed cheeks. Each one representing a time you had bottled up those feelings and refused to give into the 'let it all go' mechanism.

The past 2-3 years had been a blur of pain and heartbreak. Ron and Hermione's betrayal had hit you worse than you thought, combined with Harry's absence and the pitiful treatment your friends had been giving you.

"Potter, wait!"

You whirled round so fast at the all so familiar voice. Out of all people, you hadn't expected him to be the one to follow you.

"Leave me alone, Malfoy. Please— Just .... just please leave me alone" Your plead came out in splutters, unable to fully form a sentence with the state your mind was in.

You swivel back round and begin to continue further down the hallway but you don't get far as Malfoy calls after you again.

"Potter, stop."

"WHAT? WHAT IS IT? YOU WANT TO HUMILIATE ME EVEN MORE? IS THAT IT? WHAT DO YOU FUCKING WANT, MALFOY?" You turn, snapping at him.

Through the swelling anger and haze of your tears, you couldn't make out his expression as he stared intently at your face.

"I— I just wanted to—" Malfoy pauses for a second, struggling to find the right words. After a moment, he simply sighs, eyes travelling to your hand. "My wand. You have my wand." He points at your clenched fists that have both his and your wand in it's tight grip.

At that, you feel immensely stupid for lashing out at him. Huffing, you shove it in his hands and collapse against the vacant corridor's wall out of frustration.

You bury your head in your hands and replay the scene that had just occurred. It was humiliating. Utterly humiliating ... but it was the truth.

"Potter."

You started slightly at the sound of Malfoy's voice. You had expected him to go running back to his goons to ridicule your breakdown yet here he was.

"Wh-What are y-you still doing here?" You managed to reply in between hiccups as you kept your eyes wired shut to cease the ever flowing stream of tears. "Would h-have thought you'd ran off and celebrated this v-victory of yours with the other Slytherins."

"Potter, I—"

"No, you know what, I don't even care anymore." You get to your feet and push yourself off the wall. This would only satisfy Malfoy even further; watching every piece of the facade you managed to maintain, crack and fracture. He didn't deserve to see you like this.

As you swivel round, about to make a run to your dorm, you're pulled back by a harsh grip on your wrist. Cold rings digging into your skin as he spins you back round.

"Well, I do." Malfoy says in almost a whisper.

You shoot him a bemused look at his vague and random words.

He takes in your confused expression and further elaborates. "...Care. I mean." He says, flatly whilst looking around you as if he were avoiding your eyes.

You can't help the scoff that passes through your mouth as you yank your wrist free of his grasp. "You? Care? Yeah, right."

You go to turn again but he stops you once more. "Look, Potter—"

"Malfoy—"

"If you would just—"

"No—"

"Listen to me—"

"Why would—"

In a fleet of a moment, Malfoy shoves you against the wall. His large hand wrapped around the back of your head to mitigate the impact. And the other squeezing your hip to hold you in place.

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE, STOP INTERRUPTING ME. IS IT SO HARD TO SHUT YOUR MOUTH AND FUCKING LISTEN TO WHAT I HAVE TO SAY?"

You open your mouth to protest but you're quickly cut off by his hand leaving your head as it drives into the stone wall right next to your face.

"STOP IT. DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT LISTEN MEANS, POTTER?"

You jump at the abrupt act of violence combined with the volume and harshness of his words.

"LISTEN."

His fist rams into the wall again.

"TO."

And again.

"ME."

And again.

Your eyes screw shut as you let out a small whimper from the proximity of his punches between the wall and your face. Tears escaping and falling rapidly from the fear he had elicited out of you combined with the occurrence that had put you in this mess in the first place.

Malfoy is pulled out of his momentary ballistic rage at the sound of your small and helpless sounding whimper. He had yet again let his temper get the better of him. Culpability overcame him as he took in your cowering state and he instantly regretted spinning out of control.

"Potter." His voice, eyes and grip had softened drastically, completely contrasting his aura just seconds ago.

"Y-You're scaring me." You murmur.

Malfoy instantaneously takes a step back, releasing you from his hold.

Your eyes fly open and immediately register the immense shame etched on his face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't—" He pauses momentarily, sighing to himself before continuing. "I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt you. I didn't mean the things I said earlier."

It was an understatement to say you were taken aback by Malfoy apologising. You didn't think he even knew how to.

"You're sorry?" You reply, dubiously.

"Yes. I am."

You squint your eyes at him in suspicion, "No, you're not. Why would you be sorry? You don't even care—"

"Fuck's sake, not again." He cuts you off, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose out of irritation.

You don't understand. What's his angle? Surely, he doesn't really care. Right?

"What? You don't. Or else you wouldn't have—" You attempt to explain your point of view but he interrupts you once more.

"FUCKING HELL, POTTER. I AM SORRY, OKAY? IS IT SO HARD FOR YOU TO BELIEVE THAT I'M APOLOGISING FOR HURTING YOUR FEELINGS?"

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you stare at each other.

"Yes." You breathe. "I-I just don't understand why you would—"

Before you could even process what was happening, Malfoy has you pinned to the wall anew but this time with his lips pressed against yours.

You undergo a mixture of all sorts of emotions in the time span of a second. Shock, confusion, disbelief and most of all a tiny spark of exuberance.

He gives you little time to melt into the kiss before he's pulling away already and holding your face in his hands.

You've never been this close to Malfoy before, so needless to say you wouldn't have believed anyone if they said Malfoy actually had the most entrancing eyes. Like a storm brewing behind grey clouds, you thought.

"Does that answer your question?" He asks, a smirk creeping up his face.

You can't help the little smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you attempt to mirror his smirk. "Partly, yes."

Without a second thought, you smash your lips against his, hands travelling to his hair as you lightly tug on the ends.

He slightly moans at this and mumbles in between kisses, "You don't know how long I've been wanting to do this."

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

You both suddenly pull away from each other as you meet Harry's eyes from the end of the hallway.

Shit.

———————————————————————

masterlist

if you wanna go check out more of my work

taglist

add yourself :))

#draco smut #smutty #harry potter smut #draco angst #angst #angst with a happy ending #harry potter imagine #harry potter #draco imagine #draco x y/n #draco x reader #draco malfoy #hp fanfic #hp fandom #fanfic

376 notes · View notes

mandoinevarro · 4 years

Text

WILL BUY STOLEN GOODS FOR LOWER PRICE

Rule Maker, Rule Breaker: Chapter 1

Words: 8.4k

Rating: E

Warnings: shooting, non-descriptive death, SMUT, fingering, mentions of masturbation, AND masturbation now that I remember, penetration, creampie! just general filth, gambling?

a/n: SO literally nobody asked for this, but I decided to turn NO REFUNDS into the prologue of a short series (you don’t really need to read NO REFUNDS, it’s only for context.) Anywayyys heavy feelings, heavy plot, heavy smut. Have fun.

……………

Maker, you need to start cheating. That way you wouldn’t be in the middle of a staring contest with your cards, like you can change their colorful drawings and numbers if you only glare hard enough. You’ve never been particularly good at sabacc, but a little luck wouldn’t hurt, especially since this is the third round in a row you lose. Duma deals the last couple of cards across the coal black table and stacks the deck, signaling the start of the game.

Well, you suppose it doesn’t really matter; you doubt your sabacc buddies have better hands. These days, everyone in Nevarro is short on luck. Luck and food and water. Others are less pessimistic: As soon as Greef Karga glances at his hand he leans back on the carcass of a cantina booth and slaps his belly. “Ha!” he bellows, “by the end of this round, you filthy gutter womp rats will have to borrow from your womp rat mothers to pay me.”

“Quit bluffing, Karga. We know you don’t have shit,” Cara mutters. She picks up her cards and pulls a face like she bit on lemon, but still the veteran goes all in, pushes forward a couple of stabilizing coils, an identity beacon you could’ve sold at a decent price some months ago and—maker—even a pouch of nova crystal dust. Nobody here is stupid enough to gamble with food, but you’re surprised that even nova has lost its worth and been demoted to casino chip status. “This place smells like shit.”

“Bad bluff, piss-poor trash talk too,” you taunt. “Looks like all that time doing business with Imperials smoothed your brain, Karga.”

“Ex-Imperials,” he corrects. The ex-Guild leader slides a few more credits to the center of his ex-cantina’s table. “We live in a jolly Republic now, didn’t you hear? You’ve been liberated.”

“Fuck ‘em.” Duma turns her head, spits on the melted floor. “Can’t eat liberation, can I?” She throws a few more worthless credits onto the growing pile of nothing. At least, for now, it’s nothing. Credits and ship parts and every other type of currency haven’t meant anything but props in Nevarro for five months, when the siege began. That whole mess with troopers and Greef and Cara was bound to bring some repercussions—aside from making Karga’s cantina look like a volcano erupted inside. For five months, Imperial forces have surrounded the planet, and for five months, food and resources haven’t been allowed inside. They won’t let up, rumor has it, until they find the culprit: one particular Mandalorian with a valuable asset. They think he’s still hiding somewhere in the planet, but you know better. You watched the Razor Crest’s fly off-orbit and leave everything behind. Everything and everyone.

“This place smells like shit,” Cara repeats.

“Not shit,” replies Duma, “ash.” She picks up a card from the deck with long fingers. “You never did explain how that Mandalorian managed to torch this place.”

Cara’s sabacc face melts. Her fingers tighten and bend her cards as she exchanges a complicit look with Greef. “Never said it was Mando.”

“Who else? I was there in the first shootout. That hunter was fierce.” Duma dons a wolfish smile, because this is how she always wins: She plays with people, not cards. In fact, she abandons her hand face-down on the table and—oh no—gives you a once-over. “You knew him well, didn’t you?” You almost want to show her your garbage hand so she doesn’t bother trying to throw you off your inexistent game.

“Swung by the store a couple of times,” you answer as casually as you can manage and pretend the most interesting book is written on your cards. “But we weren’t exactly chummy, if that’s what you’re asking.” Creeping warmth attacks your face and there’s no stopping it. Shit.

“Funny, could swear I saw him leaving your store more than a couple of times.” You feel Duma’s eyes piercing into your forehead. “Pretty late at night, too.”

“Is that so?” Cara pipes with a lopsided grin.

“I thought you two were…friends,” Duma adds.

“Yeah, well,” you mutter, “you thought wrong.” Friends don’t leave friends to their luck in the middle of a fucking siege. It’s the same prickly thought that’s plagued you since you watched the Mandalorian take off triumphantly. It’s a stupid feeling. He was under no obligation to take you with him. You didn’t lie to Duma, you two weren’t friends. You couldn’t even call what you had a fling, even those require some degree of making-love-below-the-stars, quoting-passages-of-Naboo-Nights-to-each-other romance. Flings are shooting stars. No, your…thing, whatever it was, did not belong to the heavens. It was earthy. Human. It was counting credits and arguing about fuel prices or old modulators. It had weight—too much, apparently, to escape gravitational pull and fly away with him on the Crest. It was doomed to planets, both feet planted on the ground.

Still, you remember times when earthy was good. There was never anything airy or celestial in the way he’d take you. The shoved clothes, the harsh grunts, the rough hands, the pleasure, it was all palpable and primitive; earthy was dirty. Your furtive encounters had beating heart of their own, and there was always hard evidence left behind in case either of you ever needed a reminder: marks on the skin, ripped clothes, stained bedsheets. The bruises he left always took too long to heal, as if his touch enhanced your mortality, made you more human. Stars, those moments are what you miss the most. Five months is a long time to be neglected of touch—six, actually: five months since the siege, six since he last came to you. Earthy expires.

It’s not like there’s nobody in the planet willing to help you soothe your needs; quite the opposite, actually. Lately, it seems like handjobs are the new Nevarran handshake. Just last week you caught Cara feeling up some pretty market girl in an alley. You saw her, she saw you, you rolled your eyes, she grinned and got back to work. You were almost offended. Everybody’s screwing their time through the siege, while you’re left with nothing but reruns of filthy memories with the Mandalorian. You just know nobody but Mando will do. You replay your moments with him like a sad, mental porno on the nights you spend trying to get yourself off. Trying and failing, like having to put out a fire by spitting on it, because the only person in the galaxy with a hose is too busy playing hero lightyears away.

“Last round. Place your bets,” Karga announces and pushes a few more trinkets forward. Cara follows, and you pat around your pockets for something to lose. It’s all just rusted metal anyways. Only…shit, the last three games drained you. And Duma reads it on your face like you’ve got “BROKE” written all over your forehead.

“All out, huh?” She reaches down the table for her bag and drops a beskar pauldron on the table with a thud. A Mandalorian pauldron.

Cara purses her lips and balls a fist, but Greef shoots her a warning look. As if cantina brawls could make this place look worse.

“Still can’t believe you didn’t take anything that day,” Duma continues, shaking her head. “Regret it?”

“I’ll regret it,” you answer and go fish, as if a new card—the right card—could fix a life’s worth of bad luck, “when you learn how to chew beskar.” That earns you a signature “Ha!” from Karga and a cocked eyebrow from Duma. She can arch her eyebrows all she wants, but that much is also true. You don’t regret leaving the Mandalorian covert empty-handed.

You were the first on scene that day. After the smoke cleared, the remaining imps left to lick their wounds, and the Crest flew away, you went to check on Karga’s child, his pride and joy. You were met with a gruesome scene. The cantina, Nevarro’s most sacred landmark, had been reduced to its black skeleton, third-degree burns all over, gone. It sounds dramatic, but the cantina used to be the closest thing to a place of worship on this planet. God Booze was dead.

You kicked around the bar’s guts, until you found a gaping mouth on a wall, leading down, down, down into Nevarro’s entrails. Finding purgatory would’ve surprised you less than what you stumbled upon: an underground tunnel, an abandoned covert, and a sinister, unguarded pile of Mandalorian armor. Stars, it would’ve been so easy. You could’ve hoarded the spoils and stashed them away for better days. That amount of beskar could’ve bought you a one-way ticket out of this dumpster and an early retirement. But when you lifted a helmet, it stared back. It was blue and definitely not his, but Mando was all you could think of while you studied the helmet’s unique curves and creases. You heard his exasperated sighs when you got on his nerves, his moans when you’d touch him. And you just couldn’t do it. You sat back and watched as this skughole’s scavengers crept into the tunnels to pillage. Easy as that, everyone in Nevarro but you and Cara now has a beskar toy or two. Soon enough, this planet will house the wealthiest corpses in the galaxy if the siege is not lifted before reserves run out.

Karga clears his throat. “Well, ladies first. Let’s see those cards.”

Duma ignores him. “You know,” she tells you, “I’ve more beskar than I know what to do with. I’ll trade you a vembrance for a couple of ration packs.”

“And what am I supposed to do with a Mandalorian vembrance, play dress up?”

“The cards,” Greef urges.

“You’ll be rich.”

You snort. “The rich don’t starve.”

“Give me a break, we both know you’ve got portions to spare.”

Elbows on the table, you lean forward and closer to Duma. She sniffs weakness like a Corellian hound, and if you falter she’ll sink her fangs. “I’m not interested in your fucking loot.”

“Cause it’s stolen? You never had a problem with that before.” She mimics your move and leans closer. Karga fiddles with a coinage of calamari flan, like you’re both Canto Bight slot machines and he’s trying to decide where to put his money. “What, did you grow morals all of a sudden? Or maybe, you’re too worried of what your Mandalorian friend would think.” You flinch. She smirks. “Oh my, what would the disgraced hunter, code-breaker, cult member say—”

The tiny noise of Karga’s coinage clinking on the table is not enough to distract you from the verbal beating Duma is laying on you. But his voice—like he got the air knocked out of him—is enough to grab your attention when he murmurs, “Ask him yourself.”

Cara, Duma, and you turn to Greef Karga, who stares saucer-eyed at the window. All three of your heads move simultaneously, guided by the line of his eyesight. Outside the window, on the deserted street, stands a trooper barking orders. It’s one of those in all-black armor, the extra trigger-happy ones with a side of god complex because they think the change of color magically makes their aim less shitty. His blaster is drawn (surprise, surprise), and on the receiving end of its barrel…

Maker’s fucking mercy.

You don’t even see the blaster shot, only smoke snaking out of a hole on the shiny breastplate. The trooper plummets to the ground like his puppeteer cut off his strings: no last steps, no resistance. Now, anyone else would’ve walked away from what’s clearly worm food without a second look, but one does not become the best bounty hunter in the parsec by taking chances. A mountain of unpainted beskar looms over the corpse and kicks the blaster off the imp’s limp hand. The Mandalorian sheathes his own weapon—that blaster you’ve tweaked and polished so many times you know it as the palm of your hand—and scans the perimeter for danger.

You don’t tell your legs to move, but they don’t need the command. You find yourself trailing behind Cara, Duma, and Greef, rushing for the door. Outside, all four of you stumble and stop on your tracks to blink stupidly at the Mandalorian, the way children stare wide-eyed at soldiers on military parades. But this warrior stands grander than any Republic or Imperial officer you’ve ever seen. He’s clad head to toe in silver beskar—except for one armorless thigh that makes his other leg look even bulkier. His old armor, the one you used to shine and buff, is gone. This one you’ve only seen from afar, on that day he crashed the imps’ safehouse, and later when the battle broke out. You know it’s him, but in this new getup it’s easy to doubt. Maybe he’s a stranger. Maybe he won’t recognize you.

The Mandalorian studies each of you one by one, his hand near the blaster in case he spots any enemy faces. The hand twitches when he sees Duma—she doesn’t have the cleanest reputation around here—but she’s shocked and unarmed, so his arm relaxes. To Greef and Cara he gives short nods that they return.

And then you. He actually takes a step back when he spots you, like you pushed him square on the chest. The helmet lingers on you and tilts, shamelessly rakes over every feature like he’s memorizing you. You hold your breath. It reminds you of the day you met, that weight on your chest from knowing you’ve been seen. That’s how you know it really is Mando: Whenever he stares at you, you feel it in your bones.

You realize the moment’s dragged out for too long when Karga clears his throat. The spell breaks.

You and Mando look bashfully away from each other. You squint up at the clouds, your hands stiff on your waist in a forced, generic, looks like rain! pose. He turns to his boss (ex-boss? enemy? You never asked for an update on Mando’s most recent status in the Guild) and mutters a short, “Karga.” To Cara he’s warmer, offers a comradely clasp of hands and a pat on the shoulder. “Good to see you again.”

“You too,” Cara drawls, as she stares suspiciously between you and Mando. You squint harder at the clouds. “Didn’t expect you back during a siege, though.”

“I have to…” he spies a furtive glance at Duma and lowers his voice, “I’ve something to do here.”

Duma rolls her eyes and clasps her bag across her chest. “Don’t worry, Mando. I’ll leave you girls to catch up on the hot goss.” She strides into the cantina (probably to bag the bets, the asshole), and goes back outside.

She points at the window of a crumbling building. “Careful with snitches.”

You glance back to the window. Nothing. Jerk. Duma’s not above a made you look moment, apparently. You turn back to her but she’s already disappearing into an alley.

Cara waits until she’s gone to grab the Mandalorian by the arm. “Mando, where’s the…” she glances at you and hesitates. You fold your arms and raise your eyebrows at the veteran. If she expects you to leave graciously like Duma she’s got another thing coming. You’re actually very, very interested on the Mandalorian’s hot goss. Especially it comes with an explanation as to why he left you stranded here. Even though he doesn’t owe you one. Technically. “Y’know,” she finally says and drops her hand. “The asset.”

“On the ship. I need to get back.”

“You, my friend, need to lay low,” Greef says with a raised index. “Every imp in Nevarro will be looking for you. Maker—” he spreads his arms “—they already are! And someone must have heard the blaster shot. You have ten minutes or so until an Imperial squadron gets here. The, uh, asset will be fine.”

“The asset,” Cara exclaims, “is a ch—is…is delicate. He can’t just leave it on the Crest!”

Mando interrupts their game of taboo. “Cara,” he starts, “you go to the ship and check on…the asset. Please. I landed where I did last time. I…I’ll lay low in the covert.”

“About that,” Greef mumbles. He looks at Cara for support, but she steps back and raises both hands: You say it. Greef sighs. “They…they found the tunnels, Mando.”

The helmet crooks slowly to study Karga. “Who’s they?”

“Everyone. Half of Nevarro is living down there, you…you can’t go back.”

Silence.

You imagine all four of you go through the same checklist: Even if Cara didn’t already have a top-secret assignment with whatever the asset is, she doesn’t have a place of her own yet. Every week, she crashes on one of her sweethearts’ couches. On their beds, more likely. There’s no way Karga is letting him near his house, not after what happened at the cantina. That leaves…

“Stay with me,” you blurt before you can really think it through.

≈

The cramped storage room you call a home sits a story above your store. It’s four walls and only the essentials: a bed, an armchair, a table, a stove, and the only detached room is the refresher. It’s enough for you. But the Mandalorian looks like he squeezed into a dollhouse when you usher him inside and close the door behind you. He stands in the middle of the room, all fighter’s bulk and grandiose armor, like he’s afraid he’ll break something if he moves. As if he’s never been here before, which couldn’t be further from the truth. The apartment may be small, but it’s so filled with memories you could turn it into a museum of your dirty escapades with him. And if you look to your right, you’ll see the armchair where he sat while I went down on him on a stormy night.

“So,” you say and lean against the front door, “business or pleasure?”

He moves to stand to the side of the window opposite the front door and his glove moves the old washed out curtain to the side to peer into the street. The sun is setting, and the last streaks of light paint the beskar with warped yellow-orange streaks that stay as still as an undisturbed pond. So this is how he wants the evening to go: quietly and with a reasonable amount of distance between you. Disappointment knots in your stomach.

“Business.”

You open your mouth to cut into the silence, but you’re all out of words. Maybe you’ve lost your touch. It used to be so easy to tease him, but now…a heaviness seems to weigh down on his shoulders, some heightened sense of duty. But also determination: He stands taller now, prouder, like he woke up one day and knew exactly what he needed to do and why. Whatever that purpose is, you’re pretty sure it doesn’t involve you. You’re a detour, and not even the fun kind, judging by the space between you. Maker, this man used to pounce on you. Has the siege really battered you up that much?

“Been busy?” The sudden question startles you. He’s never been one to break the ice, that was usually your job.

“Sure.” Nope, not at all. “Store and all.” You closed the store three months ago. Turns out nobody buys equipment for their ships when they can’t fly past the atmosphere. “Plus, somebody needs to keep Karga distracted from his mourning. You owe him a cantina.”

“He told I did that?”

“Just a guess.” You move a couple of steps forward, like you’re approaching a nervous lothcat. When he doesn’t move away, you sit on the armchair, a little closer to him. “You like that flamethrower too much.”

“That what you four were doing in there?” The helmet moves to the side so he can spy deeper down the street. Always careful. “Assessing my damage?”

“No, just sabacc. Different kind of damage.” He’s making small talk. The Mandalorian, whom you’ve overheard have conversations solely based on grunts and sighs, is chatting with you. He’s not just answering out of politeness, he’s prompting you to go on, to keep running your mouth. That’s something he said once between thrusts, perched over you right on this floor: Keep running your mouth, see what happens. The memory warms your neck. Maker, not the point. The point is, before, he always said you had a smart mouth. Sometimes he’d chastise you for it, other times he’d encourage it. And you used to have the suspicion (or, let’s face it: fantasy) that he actually liked it. That somewhere hidden, beyond his pride and honor’s jurisdiction, he enjoyed the teasing and the banter, the challenge of having to deal with you. Better yet: More than once it crossed your mind that he got off on it, too. It’s been a long time, but some of that might remain. Maybe you’ll take his advice: keep running your mouth, see what happens.

You sit straighter, arch your back a bit just in case he’s watching. “You interrupted a round with your little stunt.”

“Yeah?” The helmet doesn’t move, but his hand runs up the curtain, considering. “Sorry. I bet you were winning.”

That makes you smile. It’s a dig at you. Far and wide across Nevarro, your uncanny ability to lose every single game of sabacc you play baffles locals and foragers alike. Yes, you know you suck, but the game amuses you anyways. You like the trash talk, the double-guessing, the bluff-calling. So much so that you forget to actually play. But what’s important is he’s teasing you, and that’s more than charted territory with him, a match you have a shot at winning. Okay. Game on.

“I was, actually.”

He huffs. “Don’t believe you.”

“Then I don’t believe you’re here on business.” Pause for effect. You can almost see a question mark form in a cloud above the helmet. You lean forward and lick your lips, lower your voice. “I think you missed me.”

You’re used to the helmet’s features remaining impassive, so you don’t look for clues on there anymore. Mando’s hands are more telling. You want to believe you actually see his fingers twitch and clutch the curtain a little tighter, that he takes too long to answer. That’s what trying to read him is all about—blind-guessing and wishful thinking.

“Don’t know about that. Six months and two weeks without your cons, I’m almost rich.”

Down to the week, huh? “Okay, if you want to make it about money we’ll bet on it. Twenty credits says you missed me.”

“Last time I was here you weren’t a compulsive gambler. Store’s doing that bad?”

“Last time you were here,” you coo, “there was a lot less talking involved.” You stare into the visor, and pray he can’t see the desperate hope in your eyes.

Your prayers are answered. In a way. Mando ignores you, doesn’t even look at you. You hear your clumsy attempt at seduction buzz around him like a one-winged bee, crash into the unmoving, unmoved Mandalorian, and fall to the floor in a pointed-lined spiral. You’re so embarrassed you want to step on it. Well, that settles it. Six months is apparently enough for a Mandalorian to lose interest.

“And store’s doing fine,” you lie to try and sway the conversation away from that lame innuendo that missed its mark. He really just wants to talk, then. No big deal. It’s fine. “Nobody gambles for money anyways.”

“Then why?”

You shrug. “Why do you hunt?” He’s never told you, but you saw him chase down a bounty once. He was ruthless, sweating adrenaline and with far too much stamina to only be chasing a bag of credits. “For the risk. The thrill.”

He lets your words float for a second. “You get a thrill out of losing?”

You roll your eyes. “I only lose cause everybody knows my bluff.” That is, except you. “You need to know someone to know their bluff. Greef and the others already know me too well. You, on the other hand.” You smile. “If you and I played, I’d get to keep so much of your stuff you’d think I’m half Jawa.”

And, only then, he seems to tense. That stupid throwaway line is what makes his spine grow visibly rigid and his hand drop from the curtain to his belt, where the leather of his glove creaks with how tightly he clutches the buckle. White and blue streetlights that reflect on his armor glide around like it’s water instead of beskar, and they’re your only indication that he’s shifted slightly. Slowly, so slowly you expect his neck to creak like a door, the Mandalorian turns away from the window to look at you. He holds there quietly, and you feel ants running down your back…stars, you’re nervous. For the first time in a while, he makes you genuinely anxious.

“You’re saying I don’t know you?” he rasps under the helmet. No, not really, but if it gets a reaction out of him…

“All I’m saying,” you start, summoning all your strength to keep your voice from faltering, “is you’ve been gone too long.” You try to make it sound a bit playful, but the words come out tasting bitter when you remember the sharp little edge that’s been digging on your side. He left you here, it whispers, he left you here and didn’t bother looking back. But a heavy boot suddenly drops forward and you’re forced to stop nursing your grudge to try and predict what Mando’s next move will be.

With every step he takes, you’re instinctively swallowed deeper into your armchair, until he’s looming over you. Stars above, the sheer size of him is enough to block out most of the artificial light coming in, and you’re left to squint in the blue twilight. Maker, you don’t remember him this big, this intimidating. Five months ago you would’ve smirked and opened your legs wide. C’mon, I don’t bite unless you ask, you would’ve teased, but now…now you think maybe you are the one who doesn’t know him anymore.

But some things never change, and having him so near still makes your thighs press together. If anything, this new foreignness, the inherent threat of a bounty hunter in your home that never quite poked the right nerve before now pulls on your most sensitive areas. It propels your heartbeat on a sprint. His arm moves, and—oh, you want him to touch you.

Visor trained on you, Mando points to the floor instead. “You hide your credits here.” To illustrate (or just to rub it in that he knows) his boot presses down on the loose tile and shifts from side to side. The sharp sound it makes irritates you less than knowing he found the fox clever hiding spot you used to pat yourself on the back for. “You don’t keep them in the store because it’s too easy to break into. The security panel downstairs is broken, but the one up here works fine.”

You can almost hear his proud smirk under the helmet. There’s a reserved side to him, sure, but bastard can be arrogant when he wants to. And no, you have no idea how he found the spot, but you’re not about to admit it.

“Congrats, boy scout. You can spot a busted panel and you have flat feet. Want a badge?” Your irritation brings back some of your old snark, but you still flinch when he moves closer and his legs brush against your knees.

“You also keep expensive parts inside the stuffing of this—” he takes a tiny step forward and frames your knees with his legs “—armchair.” Your blood freezes at his words, but it abruptly runs hot as the city’s lava river when you realize how close he stands now. His legs press against the armchair and there’s nowhere to go. You’re cornered.

A leather glove moves close and you hold your breath, before you realize he’s only toying with the tips of your hair. But his fingers dig deeper, tangle on thicker strands and, without warning, give a short but firm tug. It’s a tiny pull, but maker’s mercy, you feel your core pulse. And then, before you can regain some lucidity, his fingers dip lower, where the tips trace a slow line down your nape. He draws featherlight circles on that spot between your neck and your shoulder that he knows makes your toes curl, and—stars, it’s just been too long—you whimper.

“Still so sensitive here,” he whispers.

Once, this shielded man knew his way around your body like it belonged to him. You thought that part of him was lost, that he forgot, that he’d truly been gone too long. Those fears dissipate when his palm curls around the back of your neck to hold your gaze on him, while the thumb of his other hand brushes your lips. You know the drill—you open your mouth and give the orange tip some kitten licks. Mando huffs: You can do better than that. Maker, it should be a red flag, how quickly you comply. That urgent need to please him that had never, ever felt so crucial. An O forms in your lips before you can stop them, and his thumb pushes down on your tongue deep and deeper. You should play hard, make him earn it, bite him. But his finger starts to retreat and you panic—no, he can’t change his mind, not now. You seal your lips, trap him inside your mouth and suck. But his grip on the back of your neck grows beskar stiff, and he forcefully removes his finger…only to glide the spit over your lips. Just like that first time.

The visor looms closer to your face, and you catch a ruptured sigh, the pleasured kind that these four walls know so well. If Mando wasn’t holding you down, your chest would balloon with satisfaction and you’d float. His thumb trails down your throat, wetting its path and no doubt feeling the vibration when you chuckle. He cocks his head to the side in a silent question.

“You owe me twenty credits,” you explain, your breath clouding the helmet’s surface. “You did miss me.”

Mando crouches lower, where his helmet brushes your nose, and gropes the tops of your thighs with those wide palms you’ve been dreaming about for weeks.

“Yeah? You like bets?” You’ve never heard his voice so coarse, scratchy like week-long stubble. Did he change the settings of his modulator? Or is it just rash, pent-up need? “Then thirty credits says you’re fucking soaked.” His fingers butterfly higher up your thighs, almost at the apex. Your legs jerk.

“That’s cheating,” you gasp.

He takes one glove off and settles the covered hand on your hip, while the other disappears between your legs until—stars—he cups your core through your pants. You mewl and he hums when he feels the hot, damp fabric.

“I still win.” He presses the heel of his palm right into your clit and grinds it back and forth. Oh, if you thought you were wet before. The pressure, the friction, him—it all scalds you from head to toe like a fever, but you chase it, greedily push your hips into his palm. His fingers flatten along your slit and grope you tighter. “Gonna pay me? Doesn’t have to be credits.” He pushes viciously into you with that wide, hard palm, preening at the little gasps that escape you. Whimpering, you let your eyes fall shut and focus on something sprouting in your belly. Stars, you’re close—how the fuck are you so close already? It must be all the repressed desire, all that time. Fuck, you’re close—

The Mandalorian halts. You’re eyes flash open to see him straighten and step back, take his other glove off to stuff it snug between his belt and his hip, and remain still as a building. Still catching your breath, you study him head to toe, scanning for a sign of what went wrong. He’s clutching his belt, his stance is too smug. This isn’t him fighting temptation, he’s toying with you. Maker help him, you’re going to kill him. Some corner in your brain reasons that it’s kinda fair, as payback for all the times you messed with him. But in the forefront of your mind pulses the climax he just denied you, cast aside and angry.

Before you know what you’re doing, you push yourself off the armchair. “You—”

Mando beats you to it. A hand on your shoulder and a vembrance across your chest, he lunges forward and slams your back against a wall. He hovers over you, tightly pressed against your body. A fleshy, hard bulge covered by his pants throbs against your belly. Of course. You forgot how much he likes it when you look like prey; how much he enjoys the hunt, whether he admits it or not. The hand on your shoulder trails down to cup your breast. You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a shaky exhale.

“You need it bad,” he breathes as his fingers massage your chest. The movement shifts the fabric of your tunic, brushing it against your nipple. You roll your hips to try and stimulate him, to show you’re not the only one worked up. His erection twitches and you smile.

“You—mmm—you’re projecting.” You grind again to prove your point, but he catches on to what you’re implying and retaliates by shoving his hand inside your cleavage. Stars, you have to punch down the moan surges up your throat when he pinches your nipple.

“You missed this,” Mando hisses, and whether he’s trying to convince you or himself, you don’t know. What you do know is he’s plotting to settle this stupid inkling of a bet in his favor. He wants you to admit you missed him so he doesn’t have to. You know, because it’s exactly what you are trying to do.

You sneak your hand down his torso, aiming for the hem of his pants—but before you can get even with him, he crushes his hips against yours and traps your palm between them. And he’s not done—he wedges his thigh between your legs and rubs it up and down, drags your clit just right. Your mouth gapes in a silent moan as white hot pleasure lights up your spine. You want to get away from it but, maker, his forearm is still stiff against your chest. Even when you grab the vembrance with your free hand it doesn’t budge. You’re trapped between him and the wall.

“Can take care of m-myself just fine,” you croak as a last attempt to hold on to your dignity. “At least when I’m alone I don’t have to fake any orgasms.”

Yeah, it’s a low blow. A dirty fucking lie too, but desperate times call for desperate measures and all. Good news is it gets you a reaction—he immediately stops moving, as if your words punched him off balance. Bad news is you hit a nerve—his breathing becomes harsh like a bull’s, so much so that you expect clouds of smoke to come out from under the helmet. The Mandalorian creeps closer to your face and his forearm digs deeper into your chest. There’s a promise of danger in the dark visor that makes your pulse race, and a primitive instinct blasts emergency sirens. Maker, this won’t end well for you.

Just as you’re about to backtrack and whisper you didn’t mean it, Mando lets go of you—only for a split second, before he grasps your shoulders and turns you around to push your front into the wall. You jerk back on instinct, but he flattens a palm between your shoulder blades and squishes you right back against it.

The helmet rests right next to your ear when Mando growls, “You expect me to believe that?” His hands drop to your hips as he replaces the pressure on your back with his chest. His body weight holds you in place, and he rocks the hard outline of his erection along your ass. “That I don’t make you cum, you little fucking—” You curl your back as much as his body allows so he can stroke himself tighter against you. He groans and kneads your cheeks, moves the flesh in tandem with his thrusts. “I shouldn’t let you tonight, t-teach you a lesson.”

The mere suggestion feels devastating enough to let a pathetic whine tumble from your lips. Before, you could’ve turned this into a game, held out a little longer just to watch him break first. But you’re too pent up, too desperate, too sick of waiting. Your fingers hook on the hem of your trousers and push them down. Mid-movement, he traps both of your wrists in one hand and keeps them pressed against your lower back, while the other one gets your pants the rest of the way down, underwear too. You barely have enough time to step out of them before his free hand reaches between the apex of your thighs. You’re sticky, leaking around his fingers, and pushing back against his crotch like you’ll drop dead if he doesn’t fuck you.

“Fucking wet, fuck…” he mutters. His fingers follow the heat and your pussy clenches around nothing. Stars, if he just moved higher, a little higher where you’re hot and soaked and throbbing for him. But he takes his sweet time, molds the inside of your thighs like clay, pulls the flesh, squishes it together, until you’re writhing against him and leaking down your leg. Your vision blurs. “Can—can I…?” He lets his index finish the sentence, teasing at the edges of your outer lips.

Even with the side of your face against the wall, you manage to nod. “Yeah,” you breathe.

Two fingers slide around your folds and you gasp. Mando moves slowly, collecting your arousal and coating his fingers. Your breath catches when the tips finally push into your entrance—only a fraction before they slide back out, so the rest of his palm can cup along your cunt and drag more slick behind it. He’s strategically avoiding your clit, though, and with both arms behind your back and at his mercy, you can’t reach for it yourself. Fuck, you…you only need to hold on a bit more, he’ll get bored of his game soon enough. That’s it, just a little longer. You waited six months, no way he’s making you beg after a few minutes of teasing.

The Mandalorian eventually pulls his fingers away from your thighs and curses under his breath. You hear the familiar rustling of fabric and a divine zip that fills your eyes with tears of relief. Fucking finally. You brace yourself and relax your pelvic floor in preparation, but it’s barely necessary—you’re so ready for it. Your cunt is open and weeping, he can just slide it in. All this time, with nothing substantial inside you, your lower muscles pump and twist painfully with demanding want. Even with his size and in this position, you’re so turned on he might even be able to bottom out. Fuck, he doesn’t have to move much, a few good pumps and he’ll have you cumming, easy. Stars, what’s taking so damn long—

A modulated, battered moan and a wet noise make you turn your head over your shoulder and look for the source. The low light makes it difficult to make out shapes, but there’s no mistaking what you find below you. Hand wrapped solid around his cock, Mando is jerking himself off. With your cum as lubricant. While he treats you like a piece of furniture he’s only gripping for support. A chemical cocktail of lust mixed with fury spikes your blood.

“Is…wh-what are…what the fuck do you think y-you’re…”

“Say it,” he spits between his teeth, “say you f-fucking need me.”

No, no fucking way. As much as the words burn on your tongue and your clit tugs and begs, you’re not saying it. He left, not you. You waited for him. You turn your head as far back as your neck allows without snapping a ligament and look straight into the visor. And pointedly curl your lips inside your mouth, sealed.

Your act of rebellion lasts a good ten seconds.

“You’re so fucking difficult,” he snarls. He stops tugging on his cock, and for a moment you hope he might indulge you, push into you and stop the masochist torment you’ve talked yourselves into. But when it comes to Mando and you, it’s never that easy. Still not releasing your wrists, he grabs the base of his cock, glistening with your stolen juices, and rubs it up and down the swell of your uncovered ass. You gasp, let your lips part and your gaze fall to where he’s rubbing up against you and refusing to push inside.

He's not going to last long. Swollen and a strangled purple, the head of his cock dribbles warm precum and smears it on your lower back. The veins on his length throb against your ass, and stars, they’d feel so much better inside you. The Mandalorian’s grunts and groans ring more frustrated than lost in pleasure; it’s not enough for him either. He’s torturing you and himself just to prove a point, while you refuse to speak the magic words just to keep your pride. Desperate tears threaten to spill, but you shut your eyes to push them back. Either of you could put an end to it, right now. Maker, it’s on the tip of your tongue: I need you. Spit it out, end it. I need you, Mando, I need you, do whatever you want with me. It doesn’t matter that you abandoned me in this shithole, that you discarded me like faulty equipment, that you didn’t even have the decency to tell me—

The thrusting stops. When you open your eyes, you find the visor fixed on you, cocked slightly to the side, like there’s writing on your face. Mando’s grip on your wrist softens, his frustrated panting slows. Maybe he sees the unshed tears, or maybe your face really is that transparent, because he takes pity on you. Gentle palms on your shoulders, he turns you around to face him.

Night has fallen. Fragments of fluorescent light pour inside through your worn out curtains and give the helmet a fuzzy silver halo. The rest of the armor is shiny black, smudges of light here and there. His head moves around the features of your face, one by one, taking its time. Showdown’s over. He’s not playing a game anymore, not trying to get you to break, he’s just…studying you. Staring his fill of you farewell-style, even though he just came back. It hits you that you don’t know how long he’s staying this time. You open your mouth to ask, but stop yourself in time. If he leaves, he leaves. He doesn’t owe you any explanations.

But when he curls an arm around your waist and holds you against the wall and his cold breastplate, it doesn’t feel like goodbye. It feels like old times—pre-siege, pre-battle, pre-everything—when he confidently grabs your left thigh, sinks his fingers into the plump flesh, and hooks it on his lower back. You drape your arms around his shoulders and hold him closer. You’ve always liked the bulk of him against you, it makes everything feel more real. Buried on the crook of your neck, you hear him sigh when he lets go of your thigh and blindly searches your cunt. With your leg around his back you’re completely open for him, so it takes him no time to find your bud. He presses against it and rubs it in slow but tight circles that make your legs cramp.

You push down on him, demanding more. He groans and complies, inserts one finger and continues rubbing on your clit with his thumb. Maker, this has no right to be so good. He’s doing pretty much the same you’ve done to yourself these past months, but with Mando there are never any ghost sensations, no what ifs. It’s all here and now, and you swear you feel the pleasure of his fingers picking up speed in every corner of your body. He has you moaning and rocking your hips, dripping down his hand, and when he starts rubbing you harder and tighter, you finally whine a tiny, “Please.”

The Mandalorian doesn’t need to ask what you want, but he moves his helmet to look at you square in the face, check if you mean it. You stare droopy-eyed into the visor and nod: yesyesyesyes. Mando groans and grips you tighter. Maker, he’s right, you need it—need the bruises, need his cock, need all of him.

“Fuck,” he breathes. His hand leaves you to grab his cock and guide it to your entrance. He moves it around your lips and brushes his tip against your clit as he looks for your hole in the dark. It doesn’t take long for the head to poke right outside where it needs to go. “Fuck, I don’t—don’t think I can hold back, don’t want to hurt you—”

“Stars, please,” you whine, “I want it rough.” You want it more than rough. After six months, you want it fucking depraved, but neither of you is going to last long enough to make it elaborate. Maker, you don’t care. Right now, you don’t care for risky positions or clever techniques, you want him.

He groans and pushes inside—only the head, still testing, but your walls immediately grip him tightly to hinder any attempts to move away. That’s not what you should’ve been worried about. Fingers tight around your waist, Mando pulls you down as he pushes up. Stars. The brutal thrust reaches the end of you and then some more. Fuckfuckfuck. The dull bam of your skull hitting the wall is suddenly drowned by a slicker, filthier sound coming from between your legs. His length begins to pull out, your pussy complains the whole way, and you can almost hear the Mandalorian gritting his teeth through the sweet torture of feeling you squeeze around him…and thrust back up—harder. He likes the pace and sticks to it—fast, rough, deep, repeat—while you make sounds like you’re choking on air. Stars, it has been long. Long enough to partially forget his size, his fucking girth, currently filling you to the brim and punching high little sounds from your throat.

“Mmmando,” you sob.

Mando groans in response, snakes a hand down to your clit and rubs with the same wild abandon as his pounding. Maker, your memory was never this fucking good. No matter how many details you recalled, there’s nothing compared to the real, human meat of his cock pulsing urgently inside you, hitting your cervix, making you whine. Nothing like his fingers around your waist, or knowing there’ll be bruises tomorrow. The pleasure has teeth, carries a painful bite, but it’s exactly what you need. That tangible grit in his thrusts and his fingers is the missing piece. Your muscles start cramping, you pull him tighter against you—Maker, right there, you can feel it. It reaches your head and makes you dizzy, sheds light on some hidden, shameful words.

“Mando, I…”

“I—fuck—I n-needed this,” he grunts and brings his hand down to feel where his cock is inching out of you, like he has to double check it’s actually happening. Thrust. “Used—used to d-dream about you.” Thrust. Three fingers now push into your clit and draw frantic shapes. You clench your jaw, feel the hot tide in your belly rise faster. Thrust. “Wake up so f-fucking hard—cum in my pants.” Thrust—thrust—thrust.

Maybe it’s his words, maybe the rough pace, but something holds a flame to the dynamite building inside you and it explodes. Maker, your head’s going to burst. You moan long and deep into the spot Mando’s ear might be. Your legs shake, your arms cramp. Months’ worth of frustration gush hot and wet around him, as he babbles encouragement: There you go, just like that, make it fucking good. Your walls are still fluttering, your ears are still ringing, you haven’t even ridden out the last of your climax when his hips pick up the pace.

“Let me—let me cum inside,” the warrior pants, “let me f-fill this cunt…I—I haven’t since—fuck, I didn’t—”

“Yes,” you gasp, “yes, please, Mando, cum, cum inside—”

There’s no space left between you, but Mando finds a way to squish you tighter against him as he pounds into you for a few last moments, until you hear a strangled grunt, and a half-forgotten warmth pools inside you. The extra lubrication drives his last thrust as deep as your body allows. A few more lazy thrusts inside you, short and stunted as you take his load inside you, before he stops. A warm string trails down your leg, and—stars, he’s leaking out. How much did he cum that it didn’t fit inside you? Fuck.

You take turns panting, whimpering, listening to each other’s heartbeats slow to a semi-normal pace. The Mandalorian moves away from the crook of your neck to meet your glossy eyes. He doesn’t say anything, but you think will. You can almost hear his mouth opening, words boiling and rising in bubbles up his throat—

Zium!

It’s your imagination. It’s your ears ringing from that orgasm, your mind making stuff up. But. You could swear you saw a red flash glade right past your cheek. And from the way Mando’s helmet cocks to the side, you know he saw it too. You turn your heads in unison, to see smoke coming out of a hole a breath away from your ear. It takes both of you too long to put two and two together, and—before he can pull out—more of those red flashes are raining down on you.

…………

Edit: Chapter 2 let’s goooooooo

Taglist: @rosetophighlander @hellomothermoon @newyorksins @leo-moon @benedrylcumbersnatch

#the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando smut #mando x reader #mando x you #star wars smut

2K notes · View notes

uvobreakmylegs · 3 years

Text

Pretense

got inspired by @ramwrites‘s Inked piece. in the same story setting but it’s Hisoka’s s/o

Warnings: blood, mentions of death, very slight yandere behavior

The inside of the tattoo parlor was a lot cleaner than the outside, you decided. That's at least one thing it has in it's favor. Although that doesn't change the fact that you really don't want to be here. Especially since the woman in charge of the shop is not only willing to work for the Phantom Troupe, but also goes ahead in branding the significant others of the troupe.

'Branding' had been the way Hisoka described it, and it sounded pretty accurate. When you asked him why Chrollo would go so far to mark the partners of the troupe, Hisoka had answered with “boss just likes to make sure the most prized possessions of the troupe are marked as such. Cements it further for the more.... Resistant ones.”

Hisoka was currently wandering about the room, inspecting the tools next to the chair before looking to the artwork on the walls, softly humming to himself whenever he spotted a design that he liked. You were sitting in the chair at the center of the room, your legs dangling off the side as you waited for the tattoo artist to come back in. Your hands were folded in your lap as you tried to keep your mind from going crazy with scenarios of how this could go wrong. When it came to the Phantom Troupe, you wanted to have as little contact as possible. Being around them scared you, even more than Hisoka could whenever he got into that state where he was particularly unhinged. And while the woman doing the tattoo wasn't a member herself, just the fact that she was in close contact with Chrollo made you more than a little nervous.

On the other hand, Hisoka was relaxed, and almost seemed a bit excited as he came up behind you to rub your shoulders encouragingly. You turned your head to glare at him, but as usual, he smiled back at you, not taking the look you were giving him seriously.

“Alright, where did you want this thing?”

You turned at the sound of the woman's voice as she reentered the room. She sounded tired, and based off the way she grimaced at the sight of Hisoka, she was probably getting flashbacks to when she needed to tattoo the spider onto his back.

Hisoka tapped on a spot just below your shoulder blades.

“She wants it in the same spot as mine so we can match,” he said cheerfully, “isn't that cute?”

Stupid bastard.

“Sure,” she answered dryly before looking at you, “if you could take off your shirt and lay on the chair; I'll get the stencil out and we can see how the placement looks.”

You wordlessly obeyed, pulling your shirt over your head and folding it in your lap. When Hisoka took it to place it elsewhere, you laid on your front, holding on to the top of the chair to try and ground yourself.

You barely felt it when she placed the stencil on top of your bare skin, and Hisoka quickly agreed to the placement.

“All right, easy enough,” the woman said, more to herself than either of you. But she looked back to Hisoka, motioning with her head as she told him “you go back out to the lobby. I'll let you know when we're finished here.”

Hisoka shrugged.

“Alright then.”

A wave of panic hit you, and you struggled to find your voice for a moment.

“W-wait.”

They both looked at you.

“Could... Could he actually stay with me?” you asked.

Hisoka looked amused. The woman looked annoyed.

“Why?” she asked.

“I don't like needles,” you mumbled.

There was a certain level of disgust that she leveled at you in her gaze, and when Hisoka grabbed a chair and pulled it up so he could sit near the spot where your head lay, she asked “seriously?”

“How could I possibly leave her when she needs me?” was Hisoka's response.

“..... Fine. But you,” she said, jabbing a finger at Hisoka, “need to keep your damn mouth shut.”

Hisoka smiled at her.

She huffed as she got her tools ready.

And you lay still, letting out a small sigh of relief.

When you felt her hand press down on your back and heard the buzzing of the tattoo gun, you reached out for his hand, to which he obliged, taking your hand in his and gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

It stayed relatively quiet for some time, the only noises you could hear in the parlor being the soft music that played in the background and the constant buzzing of the tattoo gun. The tattoo was slowly taking form on that space on your back, the giant spiderweb with the number 4 in the middle.

She brushed over the areas where the needle had gone in every few seconds, wiping up the blood that came up after.

“This one bleeds a lot,” she grumbled.

“Oh? You aren't feeling nauseous at the sight of a little blood, are you?” Hisoka asked.

She glared at him, probably for breaking his agreement of keeping quiet.

“It can affect the end product if someone bleeds too much and I can't see the stencil because of it.”

“Aren't you a professional?” Hisoka shot back.

“I'm not saying I can't do it,” she snapped back, “it's just annoying.”

“Of course,” he answered, chuckling a little.

The woman chose to ignore him, turning her attention back to you and the design she was etching onto your back. Nothing more was said after that, and you found yourself focusing on the feeling of Hisoka's hand on yours. The callouses on his fingers, the edges of his slightly too-sharp nails that could cut through your skin if he really wanted to, and how his thumb continued to brush over your knuckles. Just that was enough to keep you calm in this situation.

“You need a break?” the woman asked you after a while.

“I'm fine,” you answered.

“Okay. Well, I need one, so let's take five,” she said, putting down the gun, “if you need the restroom, it's out the door and to the right.”

She left the room without so much as a word to Hisoka, who let go of your hand as he stood up and stretched his legs.

“There's a snack machine outside; should I get you something?” he asked you.

“I really don't want to eat anything from this place,” you said.

“Not even something sweet? Might be good for you, lift up your spirits a bit,” he said, rubbing the top of your head.

“I think you deserve a treat.”

You batted his arm away.

“I'm not a goddamn dog,” you grumbled.

He didn't react to the way you pushed his hand off of you other than to laugh a bit. He then turned away and left the room while you laid your head back down. It had been at least a couple of hours, and you hoped there wouldn't be too much left to finish with the tattoo. Too bad it was on your back and you couldn't get a good look at it to determine how far it was from being finished.

The woman came back in just as Hisoka did, the latter of which was holding a small bag of hard candies. They both sat back down, the woman looking over you and seeing that you hadn't moved at all.

“You sure you don't need a break?” she asked.

“I just want this stupid thing over with,” you answered.

You couldn't see it, but you sensed the way her eyebrows raised at your tone and how she looked over to Hisoka. The clown didn't say anything, instead ripping open the candy packaging with one of those sharp nails and popping a few of the sweets into his mouth.

After a few seconds of nothing happening, she seemed to shrug her shoulders and picked the gun back up to continue with her work.

“Didn't think you were so lenient, Hisoka,” she said after a moment, “the previous number four wouldn't have let his partner speak like that.”

Hisoka actually scoffed at that.

“Like I care.”

The woman didn't say anything to that and continued with the inking process. But now your curiosity was piqued, and you tentatively asked her “the other number four had this done, too?”

“Yeah. Can't quite remember what they looked like now, but he was one of the first to get his partner tattooed.”

“What happened to them after he died?” you asked.

“You mean after he-” she glanced to Hisoka- “killed him? Nobody checked up on them and they starved to death.”

You felt your blood chill at that. There were lots of painful ways to die, but starving to death would be such a long, drawn-out process; to just slowly wither away as you grew weaker and weaker as your stomach caved into itself and you lost so much strength you would no longer be able to move. Whatever fate had in store for you for when you died, you hoped it wouldn't be something like that.

Whoever that poor bastard had been, you hoped they didn't suffer for too long.

“Guess I'm not surprised you couldn't be bothered to let them out after you started with the troupe,” she said to Hisoka.

He shrugged.

“I didn't even know they existed until after they were dead. No one told me about this arrangement. Blame the other members who actually knew about the situation before you blame me.”

“You were the one to kill him,” she pointed out.

“If he wanted to keep his place he should have been stronger,” he said, placing another piece of candy into his mouth, “if it mattered that much to you then why didn't you let them out?”

“I'm not paid for that.”

“Ah, of course.”

There was silence after that, and another hour passed. Hisoka decided to entertain himself by slipping pieces of the hard candies past your lips one at a time, his sharp fingernails scratching your lips. You ended up slapping his hand away after a certain point, much to the mild astonishment of the tattoo artist.

“Still can't believe you of all people would allow that,” she said, “other members of the troupe would have been raging.”

“I don't like things that are broken,” Hisoka answered, running a hand through your hair.

“Pets are much more fun when they have a bit of bite.”

She couldn't see the way you glared at him for that comment.

The completion of the tattoo couldn't come fast enough, and it was of great relief to you when she finally pulled back and announced that she was done. She was saying something to Hisoka about how to take care of it to avoid infection, but you didn't pay it much mind, instead grabbing your shirt that Hisoka held out to you and pulling it over your head.

You paused ever so briefly during that, as you felt the sensation of something dripping down your back. You were quick to pull the shirt down the rest of the way, glancing back and finding some relief that she wasn't looking at you.

After receiving payment from Hisoka, you were both practically shooed out of the parlor. Despite her overall calm demeanor, she seemed to have little tolerance for handling Hisoka in large doses and wanted the clown out as soon as possible. It wouldn't have surprised you if he had decided to try and linger a little longer just to see if he could goad more reactions out of her, but he seemed to be just as eager as you were to leave.

The walk back to the hotel you were staying at was done in silence. That uncomfortable sensation was still there, running down your back and making you cringe as you felt like something was collecting above your waist.

The second the door of your hotel room was locked shut, you pulled your shirt off and exposed your back to Hisoka.

“Take it off,” you said.

“Don't you want to see how it looks first?”

“Hisoka, the blood packet is leaking. I can feel it pooling up at the bottom,” you hastily explained, “I want this stupid thing off of me.”

“If you insist,” Hisoka answered.

He reached forward, his nails catching on a particular spot just below your neck, and like peeling off a band-aid, Hisoka peeled off the sheet of texture surprise that he had placed over your back, the thin packet of fake blood he had hidden beneath the fake skin falling to the floor as he did so.

Just as you had said, there had been liquid pooling up at the bottom of the sheet, and when it was pulled away, some of the blood fell both onto the floor and your pants.

“Shit-!”

You immediately went to the bathroom, throwing your shirt to the side as you grabbed a towel off the rack and held it under the faucet. There was a coating of red covering your back, as expected, and you went about trying to clean the liquid off. Unfortunately, it seemed like your pants were permanently ruined. But you preferred that over that woman potentially discovering your ruse.

You managed to wipe the blood off, but you definitely needed a shower. Before doing that, however, you stuck your head out of the bathroom door to see Hisoka sitting on the bed, shuffling through cards as usual.

“I'm going to take a shower,” you told him.

“Just a moment,” he said, setting the cards aside and motioning for you to come closer.

With a sigh, you went to him, climbing onto the bed and allowing him to pull you onto his lap. You glanced at the side table, noting the sheet of nen that had been on your back for the past few hours sitting there. It didn't look like your skin anymore and was back in its normal form of a white sheet, though the ink that had been used was now embedded into it. The tattoo was larger than you had anticipated, and you were grateful you didn't actually need to have that thing permanently inked into your back.

“You'll be able to recreate that whenever you need to?” you asked.

“I do it all the time with mine, don't I?”

“Mm. Although I really have to question if that's going to be necessary. Are you expecting members of the troupe to just randomly lift up my shirt to make sure it's actually there?”

“You wouldn't want to risk a situation where it would be discovered that it wasn't there, now would you,” Hisoka replied.

“Fair enough,” you said with a shrug, “I guess I should just be grateful we went to all this trouble and you didn't just let them put that on me.”

“And allow the troupe to make a permanent mark on what belongs to me? Hardly. If I went so far as to mark you, I'd want my own brand,” he said.

“I don't know if I want that; you'd probably pick something stupid.”

He pouted at you.

“You're always so mean to me whenever we're alone; makes me feel like you don't actually like me.”

“I seem to recall something about pets with bite?”

Hisoka smirked, conceding as he nodded at you. Then, in a move that was somewhat atypical of him, he pulled you in closer until you were resting against his chest. You didn't question it or protest; there was that stupid part of you that genuinely liked the clown, after all.

The oddly quiet moment allowed your mind to wander, and your thoughts went back to what that woman had said about the original number four and his partner and the absolutely miserable way in which that partner had died. You didn't need to fear that same exact death; you were free to go where you liked, so being locked up with no food wouldn't be an issue if Hisoka unexpectedly died. At most you'd get kicked out of that room he had in Heaven's Arena, but that wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen.

The worst thing would be if Hisoka messed up and the troupe came after you because of it.

“You get so quiet whenever you're around the troupe. I think most of them would be shocked if they knew how you usually are,” Hisoka whispered.

It was true. You virtually clung to Hisoka whenever you were forced to meet up with the troupe. He always seemed to enjoy it, and not many of them bothered coming up to you. It was that part of you that worried you would somehow ruin his plans. Somehow, you would manage to let slip something you shouldn't and the truth would be revealed. Better to keep your mouth shut to avoid that scenario entirely and try to blend in with the rest of the significant others with their miserable expressions and occasional broken bones.

“When do you think you'll be able to fight Chrollo?” you asked.

“It's impossible to say. His movements are a mystery to everyone, so I need to wait for an opportunity to present itself.”

He ran those fingernails through your hair.

“So lets keep playing nice until then,” he told you.

“Mm.”

Play along until Hisoka got what he wanted, wait a few months after, and then he'd move on to a new obsession, a new opponent he wanted to fight. It was honestly a pretty miserable situation to be in, and yet you willingly stayed. Although if you did try to leave, you weren't so sure he would let you go so easily.

Hisoka wasn't a good person. And there was definitely something wrong with you for you to stay with him, even as he dragged you into dangerous situations that you'd never be able to survive without his help.

But one Hisoka running amok was better than the other twelve being allowed to continue as they were. At least there would be less people dying.

And still that question simmered in your mind: what would the troupe do to you if they found out Hisoka's true intentions?

You pulled away and he looked back down at you.

“Can I get my shower already?”

#hxh hisoka #reader insert #hisoka x reader #Hisoka #hisoka morow #hxh x reader

450 notes · View notes

reader-no-danna · 3 years

Text

characters: genos, zombieman, metal bat, amai mask

synopsis: headcanons for the characters stated above in a relationship with an s-class!reader

fandom: one punch man

warnings: none!

a/n: my first writing post 🤩 i love the s-class heroes so much so i decided to write some headcanons for them with a reader who’s also s-class! i may make a part two with flashy flash, fubuki, etc. hope you like it!

genos

at first, genos is indifferent to your presence among the s-class. he’s already prioritized his training and spending as much time as possible with saitama

i don’t even think he’d be aware you’d joined until it was announced at another meeting

he’s veryy curious to know about your abilities and how you shot through the ranks so quickly. but i think he’d keep his distance for a while

assuming reader is around his age, genos would be low-key shy around them. he just can’t bring himself to approach you first. this poor boy-

so at first he sticks to keeping things ✨professional✨ when he hears about a successful mission you were on, you’d get the occasional “i heard you did well against the enemy. well done, y/n” and a little awkward nod of his head

but you’d soon catch on him. when you gave reports at the hero summons, he would ALWAYS pay attention. like watch-dog man could be going on about how city-q is burning to the ground and you’d be like “well everythings fine over here-” and his head would shoot up-

silent fuming if tatsumaki scolds you or anyone interrupts you

and he’d make trips to whatever city you were placed in charge of and ask if you needed any help. he knows you can take care of yourself, he’s just looking for an excuse to talk to you

one day you saw him with saitama and the gang and you started hanging around them and that was it-

you all would be going on a lot of outings together, trying to ignore all the people gaping at you

he definitely finds time to steal you away from the others. he could never grow tired of saitama but fubuki would probably have loads of questions for you so he may excuse himself from the group for a bit and take you with him

the two of you fight sooo well together. you’re often assigned to handle monsters as a team because of how well you work with each other

you’re always with him if his parts get damaged during a fight. scolding him and telling him to be more careful, he’s getting too reckless these days

and genos’ fans take a particular liking to you... if your relationship is public then please believe the fan pages are goin wild

genos doesn’t care about all that, but he’ll quickly jump your defense if people start spreading false rumors about you and your relationship

he loves you and you’ll know it everyday 😌

zombieman

yet another stern man

he is also quite curious as to how you managed to make s-class.

because you either got in right away after the entrance exam, like genos, or you somehow managed to surpass amai mask. either way, he already has some degree of respect for you.

he seems like a bit of a loner, so i imagine the two of you would have to be assigned to a task or mission of some sort together to start communicating.

one thing i like feel he’d admire in an s/o is their strength, so he would be looking respectfully if you two were fighting together.

very observant. he’s looking for your fighting style, what attacks you normally use, and how he can help with his abilities.

he cannot stand heroes who’re only in the profession for the publicity. amai mask already annoys him- so that being said he’s very appreciative to see you actually saving people and being compassionate and not just smiling for the camera while leveling a boulder or sum-

in fact, he probably started to develop some sort of feelings after watching you save someone. maybe it was a child you had helped reunite with their parents after their town was wrecked.

you bring the kid over to their parents, and when you turn over to zombieman he was smiling for a split second before reverting back to that slight frown.

it can be slightly unnerving watching him fight, with his regenerative abilities and all that. you know he’ll recover from any injury but it still concerns you when he gets hurt.

he always reassures you, it’s not a big deal, he’s more than used to it by now. the last thing he wants is to scare you, so catch him actually looking out for his safety and trying to limit the damage done to him for you.

if you get hurt somehow, he’s by your side in an instant. your safety is top priority

he’ll blame himself for your injury, you gotta reassure him for him to feel better, and even that would take a lot of convincing

he’s glad to have you in the s-class, it was getting a little insufferable over there-

badd/ metal bat

remember when he had no idea who madame shibabawa was?? yeah this man does not pay attention during hero meetings 😭 he also was not aware you had joined s-class even though he definitely should’ve been told at that point.

another meeting was called and he’s sitting down in his usual spot, he turns around to see you there like ”😀”

he watches as you calmly give a report on recent sightings of monsters and other matters, like where?? did you come from???

he’s got a pretty boisterous attitude, and he’s very assertive and loud when you first meet him. i feel as though his rashness would be even worse if he thought he had feelings for someone

easily flustered, and it’s obvious too. you offer to come with him for a threat-level demon mission and he’s going on about how he doesn’t need the help of a “newbie” and how he can handle himself just fine. of course you have faith in him, he’s VERY strong but it’s fun to mess with him, and he’ll know when you’re doing it

eventually you decide to tag along with him on an assignment, and surprise, surprise, you hear no complaints from him

you two are a force of NATURE in a fight. his stamina and strength is boundless, and you’re also very impressive with your abilities.

you know those scenes in the manga where he’s in the middle of a fight, his shirt torn, hair all ruffled and in his face, and he’s got bloodstains on him? yeah you’re getting a full view of that on the regular 🥵

fights always end with you two walking away together, he’s swinging his bat and talking about the thrill and how much he enjoyed a good fight. he’ll also be slightly embarrassed to add “you weren’t so bad yourself, you know” and his face will be red but not from the exhaustion-

his sister zenko will become a big fan of you now that you’re s-class! he may even ask if you can give her your autograph and talk to her. he’d be so embarrassed but trying to hide it-

doesn’t know what to do with his hands so he just stuffs them in his pocket. also he avoids eye contact with you too. it’s too cute

“y/n, look, i don’t mean to bother ya, but my lil sis, she’s a huge fan and she'd really like to meet you so if you had the time that would be great. thanks.”

pleasee be nice to this mans sister 😤 i headcanon that he wouldn’t date anyone if zenko didn’t like them

after you meet zenko, congratulations- you have unlocked his soft side 🥰 you’ll find he's a real gentleman

if you’re talking during an s-class meeting and someone interrupts you- this man will NOT care who-

“oi! didn’t you hear y/n speaking just now? shut up or i’ll thrash you!”

in conclusion: badd >>> and his heart is yours 🥰

amai mask

this little prick right here

he wouldn’t be as upset if you went straight to s-class after the hero entrance exam like genos did. but if you actually climbed through the ranks?? and surpassed him??

he would’ve had to be a-class rank t-t-two for a bit 🤢🤮 like hurry up and move to s-class already, it’s killing him

despite being upset about it, he’s also quite impressed. the reason he refuses to move to s-class despite being more than capable is because he wouldn’t allow anyone he deemed unworthy to pass. you had to be very strong, and he begrudgingly had some sort of respect for you because of it

he also respects just people. a hero has to be beautiful, in both appearance and personality. so if you’re a good person then he’ll actually get along with you

make no mistake, he cares about his public image. so when he sees you, a young and stunning hero who made their debut in the highly esteemed s-class? he’d definitely see that as an opportunity grow his fan base

purposely greeting and talking to you frequently in public. and then acting surprised and bashful when being questioned about it by the media

it wouldn’t be long before the tabloids started rolling out with your names on the headlines, with people talking up your relationship

whether or not you’d be upset with it is up to you

if you don’t mind the gossip, amai mask would be muchh bolder with you in public. giving you those wry smiles that would make any other fan melt and openly flirting with you. the two of you may even be invited as guests on one of those talk shows he’s seen on

if the publicity is too much for you, he’d actually shut down the rumors immediately. “y/n is a wonderful addition to the s-class, and i’m looking forward to watching them grow. but their just an acquaintance… nothing more.”

why do i actually want to write a fic about amai mask and reader playing up their relationship in public now

buttt that’s actually not true because he’s starting to catch FEELINGS

he doesn’t like most of the s-class but you’re the exception

he’s a busy man but expect him checking up with you as much as possible to make sure you’re doing alright

after a particular stressful mission, he’ll book a reservation for you two at the best restaurant in the city! perks of being a star...

he’ll tell you all about his upcoming projects, but he’ll also listen very attentively as you talk about the s-class! he may even make fun of some of them just to get you to laugh

very attentive boyfriend and much nicer to you than he is to anyone else, s-class or not!

718 notes · View notes

arvandus · 3 years

Text

Icarus (Overhaul x F!Reader)

Ah yes, once again so late on this. This one gave me grief because the characters kept deviating from what I had originally planned. >.< But I worked through it, and here we are.

This is for the BNHarem's “On The Job” Collab for May, which you can find here.

Also, don’t judge my super simple title headings for my fics 😂 I always do these late at night when I should be asleep, so generic background with fancy text is the best I got to offer.

Trigger Warnings: 18+ ONLY! 1 instance of aggression/abuse (hair grabbing/pulling - nonsexual), unprotected sex (fun in fiction, dumb IRL), mutual masturbation, overstimulation, bondage via quirk abuse, degradation...

I think that about covers it. Once again, I’m terrible at TWs so let me know if I missed anything or if anything is inaccurate. 😬 I just kinda write what I want and don’t really think about the labels when I’m doing it.

Pairing: Overhaul x F!Reader

Word Count: 8281

You hadn’t meant to get caught. Really, you weren’t even sure what had possessed you to do it in the first place. Desperation? Horniness? Stupidity?

All of the above?

All you knew was that it was a poor decision brought forth by the gradual culmination of a single annoying, unavoidable fact: you were disgustingly, shamefully, sinfully attracted to Kai Chisaki.

You weren’t exactly sure how or when it started. There was no “aha” moment, no “big bang” of desire. Instead, it was subtle, gradually coating your unsuspecting mind like layers of sediment. A shiver down your spine when he spoke your name. The quickening of your pulse at the briefest of eye contact. And the ever-growing presence of intrusive, curious thoughts.

Like his hands. You always noticed them, the white of his gloves drawing your attention like a beacon whenever he was within eyesight. They were dangerous hands, deadly weapons that you’d seen in action firsthand. They were a thing to be feared and avoided. But some strange part of you couldn’t help but wonder... what did they feel like? You imagined they’d be soft and perfectly manicured, oddly delicate for such a violent man; gentle hands packed with destructive power.

Or his lips. They were always covered by his mask. You never, ever saw him without it. You imagined what your name would look like on them as he spoke, how they’d feel on your skin. Would his lips also be soft? How about his kisses? Would they be cautious and controlled, or rough and hungry?

It didn’t help that he was, in his own way, very attractive. Just like how his dangerous hands were hidden within innocent white gloves, he was the devil hidden behind a pretty face. A sharp, beautiful jawline. Smooth porcelain skin. A crown of auburn red hair, closely cropped, but still long enough to run fingers through.

You bet that part of him was soft too.

The one part of him that wasn’t soft were his eyes. They were beautiful, certainly… as gold as Heaven’s gates and framed in long, perfect lashes. But they lacked the warmth of Heaven. Instead, they spoke of cold arrogance. And if you stared into them long enough, you could see a barely contained disgust lurking beneath their haughty exterior.

The disgust didn’t bother you, not anymore. Everyone disgusted Chisaki, and everyone in the Shie Hassaikai knew it. He even made his closest confidants, some he’d known since childhood, wear masks so he wouldn’t share the same air with them.

He had you wear a mask too, of course. Simple and white, it covered only your lower face, much like his own. That much you were grateful for, considering some of the masks you’d seen others wearing. Your only explanation for the slightly less coverage was that your secretarial position made you a frequent point of contact for those outside of the organization. You handled incoming calls, visitors, and scheduled meetings between Chisaki and his affiliates. No doubt he wanted to ensure you were making a good impression while still operating within his mysophobic requirements.

First impressions were everything to Kai. Even more so since he took the Boss’s place under dubious circumstances. Still, his long-held reputation for extremist thinking and violence preceded him, and not everyone was in support of his unexpected promotion. As a result, many people within the organization parted ways following Chisaki’s rise to power... and soon after they mysteriously went missing, never to be heard from or located again. You had no doubt that it was Chisaki tying up loose ends by sealing loose lips. After all, they say the mouth is the source of disaster. And Chisaki valued confidentiality above all else.

The message he sent was clear: adapt or die. When given such colorful options, the choice on whether to go or stay became a simple one.

So, you adapted. As long as you followed orders, kept your eyes down and your mouth shut, you were safe. After all, it was better to be the right hand of the devil than to be in his path. The only person you really had to fear was Chisaki himself, and you knew him well enough by now to know how to stay on his good side.

And all in all, it really wasn’t all that bad. Sure, you had to orchestrate the occasional clean-up when he disposed of someone who displeased him. But that wasn’t much different than what you’d dealt with when you worked for the Boss, either. Sure, the aftermath was messier and it happened far more often. But violence was violence, and when you worked with the Yakuza long enough, you got used to it. And despite the odd working conditions and ever-present undertone of danger, you remained good at your job. As such, Chisaki brooked no complaint. He tolerated you, and you tolerated him. Interactions were brief, words exchanged were polite and respectful even though they lacked warmth. But it was just a job, right? You didn’t need warmth.

So why did you feel so dissatisfied? Why did you constantly feel that something was missing, a longing you couldn’t entirely describe?

The need only ever waned when Chisaki was in your presence, whether it was to discuss upcoming meetings or simply passing by your desk to get to his office. The dissatisfaction would melt away into a warmth that extended deep into your fingertips whenever the cold-hearted man bothered to look you in the eyes. And when he wasn’t looking at you? It was like being thrown into a winter blizzard, the aching cold returning to pull the corners of your mouth down into a silent frown.

You craved his attention. It was shameful and pathetic and you could only imagine the scorn he’d give you if he knew, but you didn’t care. To be graced with the attention of a man who cared for no one brought a different kind of satisfaction. The rare treats of attention Chisaki did grant you, whether intended or not, scratched an itch that only he could scratch.

As time passed, the intrusive thoughts became more frequent, evolving from odd curiosities to shameless lust. They began to occupy your dreams, forcing you awake with a hot ache between your legs. That was when you really began to realize how in deep you were. It wasn’t just a simple “attraction.” You wanted him. At first you tried to deny and ignore, suppress and excuse. After all, this was Overhaul. Wanting him was like wanting the sun in your hand, and just as dangerous. Apparently though, it made little difference to your hormone-addled brain. It didn’t help that the secretive, forbidden thoughts brought their own special addictive flavor of the taboo.

You began to act different in front of him. Nothing too obvious, of course. After all, you knew Chisaki wasn’t the type to indulge in desperate women. To be honest, you weren’t even sure Chisaki indulged in women at all. All you did know was that whenever women tried to gain his favor through flirtation, Chisaki quickly and harshly shut it down.

So, it was little things... the extra second to release a paper from your grip after he’d grabbed it, the lingering of a glance. You didn’t so much change the style of your attire – skirts and blouses were already the norm for your position – but you changed the colors. A blouse that matched the purple feathery softness of his jacket, golden jewelry that matched his eyes. Little messages waiting in secret to be picked up, yet subtle enough that they could be excused as nothing more than coincidence. It was risky, but the thrill of the game gave you an outlet for your roiling feelings. In the end though, it made no difference. There was nothing about you that seemed important enough to turn Chisaki’s head more than was professionally necessary.

Which is where the state of things were when you found yourself alone in his office one evening. You had thought he was still working at the time. You’d stepped away to shred some incriminating documents and burn the scraps in the kiln outside. It was your last task for the day, so you’d entered Chisaki’s office to announce your departure for the evening. Except when you entered, the space was empty, with all traces of him gone. No papers remained on his desk. His gloves and plague mask were gone. With an annoyed huff you had stood there, bothered that you’d missed him.

Quietly, you walked to his desk, and gently caressed the mahogany wood. It was immaculate of course, free of dirt and fingerprints. You knew it would be because he cleaned his space every evening before he left, and you cleaned it every morning before he arrived.

You sighed as you retrieved the paper towels and cleaning solution. No harm in giving it a second scrub to save yourself some time tomorrow morning. It wasn’t like anyone would be foolish enough to enter this space without Chisaki present anyway.

You should have just left it at that. But as you walked around his desk to wipe the surface with the damp towel, your bare legs just below your skirt bumped his chair. Soft leather, still warm from where he had sat, greeted your exposed skin.

That should have been your first clue.

But your mental alarms never sounded. Instead, you figured you had just missed him.

You should have just left, but you didn’t. The warmth on the chair was enticing you. He was gone, right? Left for the evening. What harm could it do to indulge just a little bit? With your heart pounding with excitement, you carefully sat down in the warm leather. Immediately the scent of Chisaki’s body wash and clean clothes cradled you.

That should have been your second clue.

But you were already too wrapped up in your enjoyment. You relished in the sensations, leaning back as you closed your eyes. It was the closest you’d ever felt to him, as if his very presence was there with you. Your desire purred deep in your gut at receiving its first nibble of satisfaction. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend he was there, holding you.

Your kept your eyes closed as your imagination began to take root like weeds in your mind, making your skin feel hot. Your fingers grazed the inside of your thigh, dipping beneath your skirt while your heart pounded. What if those were his fingers? The vision combined with the sensations of touch and smell were delicious, and you wanted more. You dragged the pads of your fingertips up even higher, your arm starting to push your skirt up with it. Your legs parted easily, as you let out a shaky breath.

You shouldn’t be doing this. Not here of all places. But there was something so sinfully satisfying about it, the danger only heightening the sensations. After all, the reward was only as great as the risk it took to earn it. And this was the highest risk you could take, short of literally throwing yourself at him. Besides, it wasn’t like your fantasies were ever going to come true. Maybe satisfying yourself - right here, right now – would be enough to finally give you the peace of mind you needed.

And dear God, did you need it. You could already feel the heat growing in your loins, the moisture dampening your panties. Your fingers finally brushed against the warm cotton fabric covering your sex and you let out a soft gasp.

What Chisaki didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. He was gone, right? And you were going to clean up any traces of your little visit before you left. He’d be none the wiser.

Your fingers slipped beneath your underwear to meet the hot, slick flesh of your folds, your clit already plump and ready with arousal. You knew it wouldn’t take you long to cum, but you wanted to enjoy this, to savor it as the only opportunity you’d get. You certainly weren’t going to do this again.

So, you teased yourself, fingertips softly dragging slow circles around your entrance before dipping in. A shaky moan left your lips, the quickening of your breaths matching the racing of your heart. In and out you dragged your fingers, relishing in your sleek, sensitive walls, occasionally breaking your rhythm to spread your juices over your swollen labia. You revisited your clit and stifled your moan with a bite of your lip as you began to slowly massage it with practiced skill. It felt so fucking good. The scent of yourself mingled with the scent of Chisaki, and you spread your legs wider, leaning back farther into the seat. You could feel the surge beginning to swell, and you knew it would be soon. Vivid fantasies danced on the inside of your eyelids, and you were fully enthralled, fingers skimming fast circles over your swollen bud as your other hand began to massage your breast through your blouse.

“Fuuuuuckk....Kai....” You moaned.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The familiar voice made you jump so hard, you nearly fell out of the chair as your eyes flew wide open.

There was Kai Chisaki, staring down at you from across the desk – his desk. And there were you, sitting in his chair, spread eagle.

Your breath was knocked out of you and you felt light-headed with panic. You caught sight of the shoji screen behind him, wide open to the evening air.

FUCK. Of course. You forgot to check outside. He must have stepped out for some fresh air before returning to his office.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. You hadn’t heard him enter. How long had he been standing there??

“I asked you a question.” The man seethed through his plague mask. His gloved hands were clenched into angry fists, and his eyes... eyes that you’d always craved to see you... well, they saw you now, and you were terrified.

Immediately, you closed your legs and stood up from his chair. Your mouth babbled soundlessly before your voice finally came, tight and small.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

“I didn’t ask for an apology.” He hissed.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You blubbered.

“Come. Here.” Chisaki demanded.

You obeyed, struggling to adjust your skirt as you approached him from around his desk.

“I didn’t tell you to touch your clothes.” His tone was quiet and constrained yet sharp as a razor’s edge, each word uttered with meticulous precision.

You stared at him in shock as you slowly removed your hands from your rumpled clothing. His eyes raked over you, top to bottom, and left you feeling... exposed.

“Look at you...” he grumbled. “Disgusting.”

His mask was unnerving, blocking the lower half of his face and keeping you from being able to fully read his facial expression. His gold eyes were threatening – predatory like a wolf.

He was going to kill you. You knew it was coming. He’d killed others for far less. But you weren’t ready for it. You didn’t want to die.

You dropped to your knees and bowed low in front of him, shrinking yourself to fit beneath his harsh glare. “Please, Mr. Chisaki-“

“Overhaul.”

“Overhaul!” you corrected, as you bowed your head lower to the ground. “Please forgive me. I meant no disrespect.”

“No disrespect?” he sneered. “You debase yourself in my seat, my place of business, and claim no disrespect??”

His left hand reached forward at lightning speed and grabbed you by your hair, forcing your head back until you were looking him straight up at him. You winced against his harsh hold on you, yet clenched your teeth in an effort to keep your silence. He glared down at you as his next words came out through what you could clearly hear as clenched teeth.

“Clean it up.”

With that, he shoved you away from him. On shaking, clumsy legs you pushed yourself to your feet and made your way back to his desk, your skin hot with shame and your ears ringing.

You did as he commanded, grabbing the cleaning solution and spraying his seat before carefully, meticulously, wiping every inch of the rich leather. Minutes passed in silence as you made sure that no spot went unnoticed, even ensuring that the table was once again cleaned as well. By the time you had finished, Kai’s temper seemed to have dwindled to a simmering flame. His hands were no longer clenched in fists at his sides. Instead, they were tucked deep into his pockets as he supervised you. It did little to comfort you though... you knew that Chisaki’s reflexes were faster than you could dodge. He’d catch you before you even reached the door.

Not that you’d try to. You knew better.

When the chair was finally pristine, you disposed of the last of the soiled paper towels in the wastebin and returned the cleaning solution to its home. The task was done, but you didn’t stop. You picked up the trash can with the intent of disposing of its contents; you knew Chisaki wouldn’t want it sitting in his office.

It was all to buy you time. Time to figure out what to say or what do to convince Chisaki to spare your life. But you didn’t even make it to the door before Chisaki’s voice halted your retreat.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I... I was just...” you stammered.

“I didn’t give you permission to leave.”

You swallowed and set down the trashcan. He approached you slowly, until he was a mere few inches from you. He was so close that you could smell his cleanliness and see the pupils of his eyes dilate as he stared at you. Slowly, he grabbed the mask that was covering your mouth and nose and removed it from your head. You stopped breathing.

There was something... electric in the air. You could feel it on your skin, making your hairs stand on end and your flesh tighten with goosebumps. His eyes peered at you intently, taking in every subtlety of your face. Your lips, your eyes, your skin... and beneath the weight of his stare, you could feel the fear start to transform, replaced by something else entirely. Something familiar that’d been plaguing you for months, lighting your veins with fire and threatening to incinerate you if it wasn’t released. After all, part of his allure was the danger. And he hadn’t killed you yet, which meant... something.

Chisaki’s gaze began to wander beyond just your face, taking in your still rumpled clothes. The top couple buttons of your blouse were undone, exposing the skin of your neck and the edges of your bra. Your skirt was still askew, and although he couldn’t see it, you became acutely aware of your still-damp underwear trapped between your folds from when you had hastily closed your legs earlier. You stared back at him, waiting for him to do something, say something.

And that’s when you noticed it... a faint flush across his pale cheeks, peaking out from beneath his mask. His chest was rising and falling with each breath, and it was as if he were contemplating something, silently weighing a decision in his closed-off mind.

A strange bubbling sensation began to build within your chest, foreign and oddly out of place.

Hope.

Finally, Chisaki spoke, his voice unusually calm considering the trouble you were in. “Follow me.”

Not one to disobey him, you did as he requested as he made his way over to his desk and sat down in his chair. Then, with an open hand, he gestured at his desk.

“Sit.”

Confusion.

“W-What??” you stuttered.

“I said sit.” He replied.

You did as Chisaki commanded, fitting yourself between his legs and his desk before hopping up slightly onto the surface you’d just cleaned. You were right in front of him now, your hands in your lap and your ankles crossed as you realized just how perfect this arrangement was for him to see directly up your skirt. You worried your lip between your teeth as you watched him assess you. His elbow was resting on the armrest of his chair, his fingers supporting his face along the jawline as he stared at you with his head cocked at an angle. If it were any other situation, you’d say he looked almost bored... but the glint in his eyes spoke of something else entirely.

“Continue.” He stated.

“What? What do you mean?” you asked.

His eyes stared at you knowingly. “You didn’t get to cum, did you?” You shook your head, stunned at his words. “Continue.” He repeated.

“Right here?”

“Where else? It was good enough for you earlier.” His tone dropped slightly as his eyes narrowed. “Continue.”

Your heart pounded in your ears as you uncrossed your ankles, and with shaky hands began to trace your fingers up your thighs just as you had done before. Except this time, the experience was entirely different. Instead of closing your eyes like before, you kept them open to stare at your observer, watching for his reaction. So many times you’d fantasized about this... about his eyes being on you and only you... and you weren’t going to miss a moment of it.

With your eyes locked on each other, you inched your way up to the space between your thighs, your legs parting to grant you access. Chisaki didn’t look down. Not right away, at least. Instead, he continued to watch your face, his body still and silent. With the heat of his gaze on you, you finally reached your center where your warmth greeted you. It was still slick from earlier, your fingers sliding easily along your labia as you began to tease yourself for the second time that evening. You let out slow, shaky breaths as your fingers rubbed slow, lazy circles over your glossy lips.

Chisaki still didn’t break his gaze from your eyes, and a part of you wanted him to. You wanted him to acknowledge what you were offering him and know that he liked it. A small, devious smirk found itself on your lips as you pulled your fingers away from your pussy to show him the evidence of your arousal stretched across your fingers. It caught his attention just briefly, eyes flicking to your display, before he watched you lick the glistening strands from your fingertips, the soft sounds of your sucking filling the empty, quiet room.

Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, and the smirk on your face widened. Soon your fingers were back between your legs, massaging your clit again as your skin began to feel flush with heat. Round and round the pads of your fingers went, with painstaking slowness that you drew out just for him. You wanted to show him how good his presence made you feel. You wanted him to see how badly you wanted him. Your lips became more swollen, your clit more sensitive. Already you could start to feel the tension build. It was almost too easy, your body ready to surrender at the drop of a hat. But you weren’t going to let it happen, not yet at least. You wanted to draw this out, to savor it in case it never happened again.

With half-lidded eyes you stared at him as you parted you folds for him, fully exposing yourself. For the first time, his eyes drifted from your face to stare directly at your desire for him – your tight hole open and waiting, every inch of your swollen cunt drenched in glistening arousal. Chisaki was captivated and you felt your blood surge. You needed more. With your fingers still spreading yourself open, you dipped your middle digit into your tight heat. Pleasure bloomed within you and a soft groan vibrated from the back of your throat. With each draw of your fingers, your breaths quickened, your back arching as the tension began to build.

You struggled to keep your eyes open, to watch Chisaki as you brought yourself closer to orgasm, but it became increasingly difficult. You were single-focused now, chasing your much-needed release with each plunge of your finger into your soft depths. Your body accommodated it welcomingly, and so you added a second, once again relishing in the renewed stretch that caressed your inner walls. The faster you pumped your fingers, the better it felt until your nerves were singing that familiar hum. You flowed seamlessly into the final phase, your wet fingers leaving your entrance in favor of rubbing hard, fast circles over your clit. The finish line was in sight now as your body sprinted with tense, aching muscles and breathy moans.

You came with a gasp, back arching and thighs twitching as you rode out your orgasm. As you neared the end of it, you dipped your fingers in one last time as your walls gave one last final spasm of pleasure. Gradually the wave of your euphoria calmed, returning to the gentle, lapping waters of desire that still moved within you to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

You opened your eyes to see Chisaki still staring at you silently, his eyes once again locked onto yours. The flush across his cheeks was very much apparent now, yet his posture remained unmoved. Still, out of curiosity, you dared a quick glance down to his lap to see his hand strategically placed over the bulge in his pants. Was he trying to hide it? Because he was failing. Or was he stroking himself through his clothes when you weren’t looking?

“Again.” He ordered.

Your eyes bulged. “Again?”

He didn’t bother to answer, instead waiting silently. You were a bird trapped in the golden cage of his eyes as your mind struggled to recover enough from the hazy aftereffects of your orgasm to think straight. He wanted you to do it again?

At first you were hesitant. You knew your body was still sensitive from what had just transpired. But then again… your eyes stared at Chisaki’s crotch again as he waited for you. No doubt he saw you staring, yet he did nothing, said nothing. It almost felt like an invitation… or a dare. Do it again and see what happens.

Fuck. You’d already gotten under his skin... might as well see how deep you could go.

Between your orgasm only moments before and the juices still coating your pussy, the sensations of your touch at first felt almost... numb. Except for your clit. That part was still sensitive, making your muscles twitch and your breath hitch in your throat as you moved your fingers over it experimentally. You kept your touch gentle at first, careful to give your body time to respond as you reawakened the lust that still lurked in your core. With dark eyes you began to stroke yourself for him again, pulling soft pleasurable moans from your gently parted lips. It was definitely more intense this time, and you could already tell that this next orgasm would surpass the one before it. Still, you drew it out as you watched Chisaki. Or, more specifically, watched his free hand.

It didn’t take long... you watched his fingers grip around his hard-on through his pants, his hand slowly moving up and down his restricted length. You bit your lip at the sight and immediately felt a generous wave of hot arousal bloom between your legs, your nipples hardening achingly. It wasn’t enough to capsize you into ecstasy, but it certainly pulled a needy whimper from your lips.

You dipped your fingers into yourself, feeling your walls flutter as you imagined what it would feel like to have Chisaki inside of you. With each curl of your fingers the heat grew, like the sun reaching its zenith. You wanted it. You wanted to cum so badly. But you wanted to see him even more. So, you neglected your puffy clit in favor of unbuttoning your blouse just enough to grant you access to your sensitive breasts. You pushed aside the cup of your bra to free the plump flesh, the bud at its center tightly puckered. With deft fingers you massaged the soft skin before rolling the nipple slowly between your fingers, pulling more soft gasps and gentle hums from your lips. The more you groaned and teased yourself, the more Chisaki stroked himself as he watched you, his eyes glowing with hunger.

It wasn’t until you began to lose yourself, your eyes beginning to drift closed as you moaned and whined to the ebb and flow of your pleasure, that your patience was finally rewarded.

You could hear it over the sounds of your lewdity – the ‘click click click’ of a zipper being pulled down. You opened your eyes, not even attempting to hide your eagerness, as Chisaki freed his cock from his pants.

It was beautiful just like the rest of him; long with a slight curve, its tip red and shining with precum. Veins stood out in relief, trailing his length like vines, thick and beautiful. You swallowed at the sight of it, desperately wanting to know what it would feel like to have that in you.

You hadn’t realized your own movements had frozen until Chisaki’s smooth voice cut through your thoughts.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.” He said, as cool and professional as ever as if he didn’t currently sit before you with his dick in his hand.

He was gloating, you knew it... your stunned silence at the sight of his cock stroked his ego just as much as you touching yourself for him did. And you knew that, above all else, Chisaki loved to have his ego stroked.

“Y-yes Mr. Chisaki...” you whispered, before your fingers began moving again.

You continued to stroke and play, penetrate and rub as you watched him take his long cock in his hand and begin long, steady strokes. Even now, he still kept his gloves on, and somehow that made his every move even hotter. He was no longer propping his face up with his other hand. Now, he was sitting up straight, eyes on your needy cunt as you put on your show for him. You could see it, the tension in his temple that came and went, hear the ragged, quick draws of his breaths through his mask. Your own arousal grew in response, egged on by him searching for his own sweet relief at the lewd sight of you. It blossomed like a watered seed as you drank in the man in front of you – his hand pumping, precum dripping.

It was the push your sensitive body needed. You came surprisingly fast, your orgasm crashing over your body with greater intensity than the first. Moans and gasps ripped from your throat as your body spasmed, and you made no effort to quell your cries, too consumed by your own pleasure. With eyes squeezed shut, your hips rocked as you grinded yourself against your hand, your entire body singing in unbridled bliss.

You were given no respite. As soon as the pleasure eased just enough for your hips to still, Chisaki spoke.

“Again.”

Your eyes, still closed, flew open to look at him with incredulity. You weren’t even recovered yet, your cunt still twitching with the aftershocks of pleasure. You knew that touching yourself without some sort of break was going to lead you down a jagged, torturous road of overstimulation. It made your legs start to close up instinctually in denial.

Your mouth moved silently before you pushed the words out. “B-But... I can’t....”

Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, his brows lowering... and along the edge of his mask, you could see his cheeks lift slightly. He was smirking at you. Cruelly.

“You can, and you will.” He said. A wave of his fingers told you to reopen your legs for him, and you did, slowly, as if you were a puppet on strings. “Again.” He repeated.

Chisaki took a moment to remove the glove from his stroking hand before giving his cock a couple more languid strokes. You stared at the exposed skin in awe. It was everything you imagined it’d be... pale, smooth, nails clean and perfectly trimmed. Between his hard cock and his ungloved hand, you stared in shameless longing as an excited chill coursed down your spine. Maybe… maybe if you were good…

You swallowed the dryness in your throat and returned your fingers to your core, flinching as you brushed against your sore, overstimulated clit. Chisaki returned to pleasuring himself as you performed for him, his hand pumping steadily. Watching him masturbate to you was delicious. He didn’t rush, instead opting to taking his time, his hand moving smoothly from base to tip, occasionally pausing to run his precum over the head, the shine glinting in the light. You subconsciously licked your lips, wondering what it would taste like. Would you lick it from his tip? Or his finger? Maybe both?

You matched your pace with his, letting his own strokes guide your hand. The synchrony made your pussy ache more than ever, even as your body screamed for freedom – a break from the constant wave of stimulation that you were subjecting yourself to. It made you feel closer to him, more connected - as if he were a part of your pleasure without actually touching you.

But dear God, you desperately you wanted him to touch you.

He continued his strokes, slow and easy. Whether it was for him or for you, you weren’t sure... you weren’t even sure if he was aware that you were pacing yourself with him. His speed gradually quickened, the muscles of his forearms tensed and twitching as he pumped his hard cock with growing fervor. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen, his eyes starting to roll back in his head as he began to lose himself to the pleasure, legs twitching slightly as he came close... Your heart pounded with excited anticipation as you dipped your fingers into your core, feeling your walls flutter with need. It was happening... he was going to cum...

But he never did. Instead, his pace began to slow as his eyes refocused on you. That was when you realized….

Chisaki wasn’t trying to cum yet… he was edging himself.

Maybe he was waiting for you. Or maybe he had his own agenda. But either way, it was clear to you that he was delaying his orgasm.

The hypocrite.

Still, you wanted to please him. You wanted to give him want he wanted, because then maybe he could give you what you really wanted. But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how fucking hot the entire situation was, your own orgasm evaded you.

It was more than just the repeated orgasms and overstimulation. The real issue was that your fingers no longer satisfied. Not after seeing what he had to offer, and certainly not after seeing how horny you made him. You wanted him to touch you, to put his hands on you, to feel his cock in you... A frustrated whine escaped your lips as you felt your resolve break.

“Please, Mr. Chisaki...” you begged. Chisaki’s eyes left your open pussy to lock with yours. Their golden depths burned holes into you, and you licked your lips under the heat of his stare. “Please touch me...”

Chisaki froze mid-stroke. “Touch you?” He said it as if the idea repulsed him, yet his eyes betrayed him as he looked back down between your open legs.

“Please,” You begged. “Don’t you want to?”

His brow was deeply furrowed, and you knew he was having his internal debate, just as he’d had before. After all, what you were asking was no small order. You knew how he felt about touch. No doubt he would have already been balls deep in you had it not been an issue for him.

But that was why you begged. And pleaded. And groveled. Anything to make him set aside his golden rule, even if just for one night.

“Please...” you whined one last time. “I’ll do anything. I need you, Kai...”

Something about you using his given name did something. His eyes widened slightly, his flush reaching down to his exposed neck. Then his eyes narrowed, as he stood from his seat. You watched with a mix of excitement and trepidation as he carefully removed his jacket and loosened his white tie. He towered over you, his stare pinning you somewhere between his contempt and his hunger as he undid the cuffs of his black shirt and rolled up his sleeves to the elbows. It made your pussy throb and your heart pound as you stared back at him, completely vulnerable. He stepped forward slightly, filling the space between your legs with his presence. Even just the graze of his pants against the inside of your knee was enough to set off fireworks on your skin, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. His cock was still out and hard, mere inches from your tight, needy cunt, and it took every ounce of willpower not to scoot down and close the gap between you.

You waited.

“Touch you...” he muttered through his mask, his voice low.

Chisaki’s eyes raked over you, taking in every inch of you. Your trembling, parted lips and large pupils; your exposed breast with its perky, hard nipple; your swollen and glossy cunt framed in ruined underwear that was carelessly shoved aside; the sweat from your thighs coating his desk.

“So fucking filthy.” He breathed. The profanity sounded strange on his lips, almost more like a prayer than an insult.

He stared at one of your thighs as he slowly placed a warm, gloved hand on it. You reacted immediately, gasping at his touch, and his eyes darted to yours.

“...And needy.” He added.

From your peripheral you could see his other hand grip his cock and begin to pump it. You tried to watch... you wanted to watch. But the heat of his hand on your thigh made nearly everything else fade away until it was all you cared about. Your breaths began to come in hot pants as your body trembled beneath him.

“I didn’t realize that you were so desperate for me.” He said calmly as he continued to stroke himself. His gloved hand squeezed your soft flesh until you were moaning from the mixture of pleasure and pain. “Pathetic.”

You were pathetic. But you didn’t care. You’d say anything, do anything, just to have him keep touching you. And if he wanted you to beg? To cry? To humiliate yourself to earn his cock? You’d do that too.

His hand slowly eased its grip as it began to move up, up, up until his thumb nestled in the crook of your thigh, just shy of your sensitive, swollen folds. Your hand immediately made way for his as you laid down completely onto his desk, your world spinning. A warmth fell over you like a blanket, every fiber of your being pulsing at a low hum; you were a glass vibrating at a frequency just shy of shattering.

Chisaki’s voice floated through your haze like a faraway song carried on the wind. “You were so eager at first. So willing to shame yourself – shame me – to get what you wanted.” He scoffed. “Now you can’t even do as I say.”

You could feel his thigh twitch against yours as he began to pump himself faster. His cock was so close to your pussy that it was torturous. It made you want to cry. You could feel the warmth of fresh juices begin to flow from you, coating your entrance in invitation, as you prayed to all the gods above and below for him to enter you without mercy.

But it never came. And his hand never ventured further. Slowly, your thoughts trickled back ever so slightly, and you realized he was waiting for you to speak. Slowly, around a heavy tongue, you made clumsy words. “I... I’m sorry...I’m trying... is hard...”

Chisaki tsked. “You’re afraid. Afraid of pushing past your limits. So now I’m going to help you.”

His gloved thumb crossed the threshold to your swollen bud, and your world exploded into color as a sharp zing of pleasure erupted from between your legs. You cried out, your body spasming, hips writhing to escape his touch. It was too much...

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

Then he did something you didn’t expect – his bare hand released his cock and slammed down onto the desk. The surface rippled beneath you, transforming until smooth arches of dark mahogany wrapped themselves over your arms, effectively pinning you down.

Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, your breaths coming out in quick, panicked gasps.

“Kai!” you protested.

He bent over you and grabbed your jaw in his gloved hand, his plague doctor mask inches from your face. “You wanted me to touch you,” he whispered. “Now you’re going to get what you asked for.”

The look in his eyes wasn’t as controlled as before. Sure, the disgust and hunger were still there. But there were more emotions now, peaking through the cracks of his practiced façade. Anger, contempt, fear, desire, longing... and something else; something wild and unhinged.

Something within him was on the verge of breaking, of being set free, and you were the one responsible.

He straightened himself up and returned his gloved hand to your sopping core, his cock once again in his bare hand. His thumb found its home again, nestled firmly against your engorged clit.

He wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t slow. Instead, his thumb ran swift, relentless circles, the digit igniting every frayed nerve. Each swipe had you crying out as wave after wave of sharp, jagged pleasure assaulted you, without so much as a second of recovery in between. And as Chisaki raced you towards that inevitable cliff, his own hand pumped himself hard and fast. His strokes began to become erratic, his composure slowly slipping as you began to unravel before him, your whines and cries luring him to follow you to the point of no return. You could feel his own legs began to spasm against your inner thighs, his hips beginning to jut forward with each drag of his palm along his hard shaft. The gap between your two bodies began to close, until you could feel the tip of him brush against your core. In that instant, you came undone beneath him with his name spilling from your drooling lips.

The temptation was too much. He entered you as you came, his cock burying itself within your clenching walls with a single thrust. Your legs wrapped around him instantly as your body exploded into a mess of tears, shrieks, and trembles. With one hand on your hip and one working your clit, he fucked you through your orgasm as you cried and panted, his own grunts joining your one-person symphony as you felt every fiber of your being shatter with white hot pleasure. It was all-consuming, disorienting. You weren’t even sure you were a person anymore. You could feel nothing else, see nothing else except the man inside of you, hovering over you, filling your existence.

It didn’t stop. Even after you were a blubbering mess, tears streaming down your cheeks, your thighs and cunt sore, Chisaki kept going, his cock reaching new depths as it dragged against your spasming, sensitive walls. His breaths were heavy, each pant labored until he ripped his mask off his face. It was like a switch had been flipped, changing Chisaki from a man in control to nearly animalistic. Teeth bared, sweat beading across his forehead, golden eyes absolutely feral. His thrusts took you past your orgasm, unrelenting, and you cried and babbled for him to stop, it was too much, your body couldn’t take anymore. But even as your string of incoherent words begged for the end, your body spoke of a different kind of freedom, your legs tightening around Chisaki’s waist in an effort to pull him impossibly deeper into you.

Chisaki snarled, releasing his hand from your cunt as he continued to fuck you, and removed his remaining glove with his teeth. Suddenly, the white fabric was being shoved into your mouth, gagging your broken words behind its white cotton that smelled and tasted of you.

“Shut up.” He growled.

You could see the hives breaking out across his damp, flushed skin now at the contact, but it no longer seemed to matter to him. And it didn’t matter to you either. You were wrapped up delirium, your eyes glossing over and rolling into your head with each drive of Chisaki’s hips. Your hips couldn’t even keep up with his thrusts anymore; his movements were too rough, too fast. All you could do was lay there and receive him as he pounded you without restraint. That familiar knot was forming again, a dark beast built from the broken pieces of the last. It was a terrifying thing, a formidable presence that you felt building within yourself that would surely decimate you.

“This is what you really wanted, isn’t it?” Chisaki grunted through clenched teeth. “You wanted me to fuck you senseless, to ruin this tight pussy of yours like the greedy, selfish bitch you are.”

His words washed over you and you gave the faintest of nods, your mouth still gagged.

“So, you’re going to take what I give you. You’re going to cum when I say, as often as I say.” His cock hit deep as his thumb gave a final press against your clit. “Now.”

You screamed around the cotton in your mouth, back arching and arms straining against the wood trapping you as the tension finally erupted. It tore through your veins, making your fluids gush and your pussy clench like a vice around Chisaki’s pumping cock. Not a moment later, you heard him groan followed by the hot sensation of his cum coating your walls. It only enhanced the waves of pleasure still wrecking you and your pussy milked him greedily as he emptied himself in you.

The comedown felt like it would never arrive. Your nerves still sang too loudly, the aches echoed too deep. But finally, Chisaki’s hips stuttered to a stop and your own body lay limp beneath him. It felt like you were submerged under water, every sense dulled or muted, as you stared hazily at the ceiling. Chisaki was still in you, his dick twitching sensitively each time your body gave a weak aftershock. You had thought he would pull out, leave you there like the ruined mess you were to go clean himself up. Now doubt he’d return to his senses any moment and be repulsed by what transpired.

But he never did. Instead, he braced himself over you, his heavy, hot breaths coating your exposed skin as he settled through his own comedown while you warmed his cock. You felt the desk ripple beneath you and suddenly your arms were freed from their restraints, the wooden surface back to its original state. A moment later, he filled your view as he leaned over you, and you had a brief moment of panic, wondering if you were next. Was he going to overhaul you now? After all, he got what he wanted...

But he never did that either. Instead, he removed the glove from your mouth as his eyes traced over your face, marking every feature, every nuance. Your parted, chapped lips... your glossy, sweat-stained skin... the exhaustion in your eyes... His thumb came up to wipe away at the tears drying along your cheekbones before running the smooth pad over your lower lip.

Then he did something you didn’t anticipate, something that surprised you above all else. He bent down and captured your mouth with his, his wet tongue gliding into your stunned, open mouth. It was strangely slow, uncharacteristically tender, and entirely unexpected. The fog you’d been swimming in a moment before lifted slightly, and you began to kiss him back, your arm wrapping up around his shoulders before tangling your fingers into his damp, auburn locks at the base of his neck.

Whatever it was, it was short-lived. He brought a hand up to grasp the hand you had around his neck, his fingers twining with yours as he placed your hand back down on the desk, pinning you within his hold. He pulled away from the kiss and stared down at you with a dark smirk tugging the corners of his wet lips. And his eyes... his eyes burned gold like the sun. Not a beautiful, gentle gold that kissed open delicate flowers and melted winter snow. No, this was a force of unrelenting destruction, the kind that burned deserts, scorched forests... and melted wax wings.

You were Icarus, fueled by foolishness and arrogance. You’d flown too close, fueled by a false sense of confidence that you could handle whatever it was that lurked within him, that your lust was enough to match his. But you were quickly learning you couldn’t. His fire burned too hot, his hunger too deep. He was going to devour you until there was nothing left. And really, what did you expect from a man who denied himself every human urge in his quest for perfection?

The sun could never be controlled.

And Pandora’s box can never be closed.

Slowly, he lowered his face next to yours until you could feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

“Again.”

#overhaul x reader #Kai Chisaki x reader #overhaul smut #mha smut #bnha smut #tw:bondage #tw:masturbation #tw:degradation #tw:overstimulation #tw:aggression #bnharem collab

371 notes · View notes

myrulia · 3 years

Note

Im a lil shy to ask in my og account so i will do it in anon! Can u do prompt 19? ( i hope im not breaking any of your rules!) your writing is delightful! 💖❤️ lots of love for u!

.｡.:*✧Prompt 19: "Are you falling in love? I have a feeling you are."

.｡.:*✧Warnings: Reverse hashira au, mentions of decapitation

╰╴⇢｡.:*✧A/N: I honestly had lots of fun with this so thank you! You deserve love as well!💜

`` The meeting shall now commence. ``

Muzan Kibutsuji, the leader of the Demon Slayer corpse, announced to the 9 hashira before him. They all kneeled in his presence out of pure respect, their heads hanging low but high enough to the point of seeing him.

`` Today we will discuss an important matter regarding our Moon pillar, `` said the male with such gentleness in his tone.

His words did cause them to raise their heads in confusion, knowing that the Moon pillar, or better known as Michikatsu Tsugikuni, was never one to involve himself too much in situations other than the purging of demons that wished to cause harm to humans. All eyes were on the spiky raven haired man for a split second before Kibutsuji spoke once more.

`` [Y/N], you may come out now. ``

You revealed yourself by coming from the shadows of the building you were inside, stepping onto the engawa just a few feet away from where Kibutsuji stood with his child close by. You fidget with your fingers out of pure nervousness, being in front of the 9 most powerful demon slayers you ever heard of in all your 19 years of living. The fact that they were in their presence alone made you want to poof out of existence.

`` This is [Y/N] [L/N], a very strong demon slayer who I believe has great potential. I wish to raise her ranking in sight of her power, so as of today, and for the rest of her time as a demon slayer, she will be a tsugoku taught under Michikatsu. ``

This brought shock to the pillars who now brought their heads up to get a better look at who you were. But the Ice pillar drew his eyes elsewhere, to Michikatsu.

`` Our quiet Tsugikuni getting a cute tsugoku? It makes me quite jealous. ``

`` Mind your tongue around Kibutsuji, Douma, `` spoke the Shockwave pillar, or better known as Hakuji Soyama. The male always had a deep resentment towards Douma, and you had yet to learn the extent of it all. Michikatsu, who had been silent the entire time, took the chance to ponder his own thoughts and really process it all. A tsugoku? He did not have time to teach a student when he so desperately desired to get stronger to protect the weak.

Kibutsuji raised a finger to his mouth, causing the pillars to suddenly stop speaking. In your eyes, this was the utmost level of respect one can receive, truly shocking you at how much they devote their lives to this man.

`` Now then, how about we allow [Y/N] to introduce herself? ``

Your head snapped up in Kibutsuji's direction, your eyes wide with shock but all he gave you was a small nod, looking at the pillars again only to see that their eyes had locked onto yours. You cleared your throat before speaking, nervousness taking over your emotions.

`` As you have heard before, my name is [Y/N] [L/N]- but you may call me [Y/N]! My breathing style is the breath of moon, similar to Tsugikuni-san. I hope I meet your expectations of a demon slayer. ``

You bowed your head low in respect, hoping that your introduction was a decent one, but when you heard a hearty laugh erupt from the Ice pillar, worry started to set in that you made a fool of yourself.

`` She really is a cute one. Makes me upset that I do not have my own tsugoku. ``

`` That is because the last time you had a tsugoku, `` started Hantengu. `` You got the poor thing lost. ``

Lifting your head, you are met with the pillars now conversing amongst themselves, semi-arguing about the situation with Douma and his former tsugoku who apparently quit after multiple attempts of asking the latter out. You could not help but but let out a small snicker, bringing the attention back to you.

`` I was the one who made her laugh first!`` Said Douma, feeling triumphant at that moment.

`` No, it was just your stupidity, `` said a young girl with long white locks who got up and spoke with attitude in her tone, although her gaze was now directed to you.

`` I apologize for them, I'm Ume pleasure to meet you. ``

The young girl bowed, but following right after was everyone else who also bowed in your direction. The whole ordeal painted obvious signs of shock onto your face because you always thought it was the pillars who deserved respect, not the other way around.

`` I apologize for my insolence as well, and my idiotic co-worker here, for our terrible first impression. ``

Hakuji held his head the lowest before raising it again, flashing you an attractive smile that would make any woman swoon immediately. You smiled in return at the 8 of them who decided to formally apologize, but the one who you assumed to be Michikatsu was silent and still.

`` Now that we are all acquainted with [Y/N], the meeting will now come to a close, you are free to do as you so choose. ``

And with that, Kibutsuji went inside the building with his daughter holding his hand until they were no longer in sight, leaving you with the 9 pillars who went back to conversing with themselves, unlike another woman who you failed to truly notice. She had long brown hair, as well as long bangs covering her eyes and pale skin. You stared until suddenly you felt someone's presence behind you, a tall one at that.

Your small shriek of shock grabbed the attention of everyone still in front of you, looking to see Michikatsu appear behind you in a matter of seconds, a serious expression all over his face.

`` How do you expect to be a good tsugoku if you scare easily? Always be on guard no matter who you are with. ``

The male left just as quickly as he appeared behind you, your nerves being left rattled and all over the place with how much he startled you. A look of concern was given to you by Hakuji, Douma, and Ume, the only three to really interact with you.

`` Dear [Y/N] got so scared, don't worry I'll protect you from Tsugikuni~ ``

`` More like he needs to be taught some manners, `` spoke Ume as she helped you up, flashing you a beautiful smile. You simply nodded, processing the turn of events. Was that same rude behavior something you'd have to endure during your time as a tsugoku?

◆◇◆◇✧◇◆◇◆

Nightfall came quicker than expected, but it was much anticipated. Tonight would be the night you get to directly study under Michikatsu, following him under the moonlight as you study his movements and learn everything he teaches you.

You put on your haori, as well as sheathing your katana inside your saya and swiftly leaving your household to meet with your sensei at the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters to discuss plans for the night.

You arrived there early and ahead of time so you can make a good first impression, only to see the spiky raven haired male leaning against a tree with his arms crossed impatiently.

`` You finally arrive. Good to see you have the mindset to be early on any occasion, that is the only decent trait you have so far. ``

You approached the male with your eyebrows furrowed, having enough of his attitude, but a voice within you stopped you before you could say anything that would make the man before you have a reason to dislike you.

`` Thank you sens- ``

`` Gratitude will get you nowhere. ``

Michikatsu suddenly leaped into the tree he was previously leaning against, standing on a sturdy branch and looking down at you below him.

`` Tonight we shall practice your speed if Kibutsuji-sama has acknowledged you. So, try to keep up with me. ``

`` Wh- ``

Before you could voice out your opinion, Michikatsu already leaped from the branch and onto another tree. Your reflexes instantly kick in, causing you to run after him and jump into the tree where he previously was, only for him to leap to another tree. The process continued of you tailing him hopelessly throughout the night until you both were well into the forest beside the headquarters.

You managed to catch up to your teacher, but just before you could land beside him the male landed in a small clearing beside a pond with koi fish swimming about freely in the clear water. He suddenly stopped to catch his breath seeing as how you both have been playing this game of cat and mouse for quite a while.

You landed beside him, catching your own breath and watching as the fish continued to swim freely, the silence taking over between you.

`` For a fresh student, you are fast, I'll give you that. ``

That was all he said, and even though so little was said, the semi-compliment made you smile with gratitude. Michikatsu side eyed you, looking down at your smaller form since you were distracted by the pond. This gave him a chance to study your physique. You had a smaller build, but he could easily tell that you were strong, after all, Kibutsuji did say you had great potential. You may have been quiet for the most part, but the male knew that you had much more to say than you let on. He truly was perspective.

`` Tsugikuni-san, why have we stopped at a pond? ``

Your question caught him off guard, so he tore his gaze away from you and went back to the usually stoic and blunt person he is.

`` To catch our breath, but our break is over. Stay close in pursuit. ``

The training continued again, going on for hours throughout the night with the same cat and mouse game you started with. Leaping from branch to branch at a fast pace staying hot on the pillar's trail. Although, at the end of the day, he has had much more experience than you have, for you struggled to keep up with him this time around.

Michikatsu suddenly stopped on a random branch of a tall tree, his back facing you but his head being turned so he can face you.

`` This is where we will stop for the night. You started to stagger and slow down 4 trees before. ``

`` No. I can continu- ``

`` As your teacher I order you to stop. ``

You flinched at his sudden command, yet you kneeled down to catch your breath nonetheless. Michikatsu suddenly appeared beside you, the same way he did so when he first pulled off the seemingly difficult trick.

`` That is all, go home, your first night of training is over. ``

◆◇◆◇✧◇◆◇◆

One night turned into two, two turned into thirteen, and thirteen turned into twenty-four. You had been training your physical strength for twenty-four straight nights in a row, refusing to give yourself a break to become the type of tsugoku Michikatsu can be proud of. Despite all your efforts, he still showed little to no sign of a significant reaction that expressed if he was impressed, proud, or disappointed with your abilities.

Tonight, you planned on changing that.

By Kibutsuji himself, you both were assigned to killing a demon who was sighted near a mountain not too far from the headquarters, and you both happily accepted the mission.

So now, here you are, standing beside your teacher at the foot of the mountain where the location was said to have been.

`` Let us deal with this demon quickly so we can return to training. ``

`` Are all we ever going to do is train? `` You spoke up, freely speaking your mind for the first time since you started studying under Michikatsu. This, however, made him turn around in an instant and loom above you, intimidating you fully.

`` Are you complaining? ``

Gulping a thick string of saliva, you shake your head no, which ultimately pleases your teacher. You could have sworn you saw him smirk out of the corner of your eye, but pushing that to the side, you both trek on your adventure up the mountain.

You followed closely behind until you sensed another, foreign presence near you - except it was not just one, it was multiple. You looked up at Michikatsu only to see him completely still, yet his hand gripped onto the handle of his katana. You shifted closer towards him so that you could watch your surroundings from another angle, but before you knew it a demon was now directly in front of you.

`` [Y/N]! ``

Michikatsu yelled your name, signaling for you to go straight into battle mode. You did so by swinging your katana instantly, only missing its neck by a hair.

`` There are 5 of them, you take care of 2 and I will do the rest. ``

`` Yes sensei. ``

You followed his plan, following the other two demons who decided to run away in the opposite direction from where you were chasing them, but by jumping and flipping above their head, landing in front of them, you were able to catch the creature off guard and successfully behead it in a timely manner.

`` Don't think you won just yet girly- ``

Another demon tried to surprise you from behind, but it was too late for it as well, because you already swung your katana and successfully decapitating it as well, leaving it to wither away on the ground just as the other did.

`` Both down. ``

With your success, you internally celebrated as you ran throughout the forest in search of your teacher, only to hear the swinging of a blade not too far from you. Following that sound, you see that the three demons he followed after ganged up on him and cornered him. You arrived just in time, seeing as how one of them was just about to attack Michikatsu when he was off guard and distracted by the other 2.

`` Breath of moon, first form: dark moon, evening palace. ``

You swung your katana in the direction of the demon's neck, being only able to sever halfway through before it dodged and managed to land an attack onto your teacher's abdomen, ripping his uniform and leaving bloody claw marks on his chest. The male gritted his teeth in slight pain, but not before he got rid of the other 2 demons in one single blow, leaving you truly astonished at his power level.

Although you could not stay distracted for long in view of the fact that the demon you tried to kill now had its attention on you, healing its neck at a visibly slow pace.

`` You got in the way, so now you'll take his place of death! ``

`` I think otherwise!, `` you shouted in return, using the second form of moon breathing, pearl flower moon-gazing that successfully sliced the demon's body into multiple pieces, including his head. It fell onto the ground and started the process of withering. With that, you ran to Michikatsu who covered the scars on his chest with his hand, sheathing his blade into his saya with the other. You kneeled down, ripping off a piece of your uniform and using that to stop the bleeding instead.

`` As a pillar I should deal with this mysel- ``

`` Stop acting all high and mighty. You are clearly injured so just let me help you. ``

Your stern tone made Michikatsu stop instantly, going silent instead and moving his hand out the way so you could tend to his needs. The fabric you ripped off only did so much, so helping the raven haired male stand up slowly, you drape his arm over your shoulder and escort him to your house, which was surprisingly not that far from where your mission just was.

Entering your home, you immediately set Michikatsu onto your futon, grabbing his hand and placing it onto his chest whilst still keeping that serious gaze in your eyes. The whole ordeal left him in utter shock that he was now in your home and in your care. He was never really one to speak his mind, so whenever he had a strong emotion of some sort it always showed on his face.

`` Keep that on your scars while I prepare everything I need to clean them. You're going to have to remove your uniform top for this. ``

Your words left him in even bigger shock, so much so that he was frozen for a good few seconds until he seemingly began slipping his haori off and unbuttoning the shirt of his uniform. He removed it with ease, now being bare enough for you to clean his wounds. Before Michikatsu, you never would have had the courage to speak up to him the way you did, but now with him being injured since you were too insolent to not kill the demon right away, you felt like you had to take responsibility.

Silently, you moved over to the male who sat bare before you, moving his hand out of your way so you could wipe away any blood that seeped anywhere else onto his body and in between the grooves of his abs. Your hand brushed against his skin ever so slightly, causing him to tense up in response.

`` Sorry if I hurt you in advance, `` you said, your voice cutting through the silence. He merely hummed in response, watching you work as he leaned back to get a better view. Michikatsu himself was appalled at how good you were at treating wounds, allowing you to actually do something he would never let anyone else do. But, over the course of your training, he had taken a liking to you.

`` Have you done this before? ``

Both of your gazes met at a close proximity before you tore yours away in slight embarrassment, continuing the process of cleaning his scars.

`` I have, yes. Why do you ask? ``

`` You seem to be rather skilled, that's all. ``

You finally finished cleaning his scars, setting down the wet cloth you used to do so, grabbing the bandages you had prepared and began wrapping them around his upper body, covering the scars effectively thus completing your task. Your skin had made contact so much that you were not able to discern when your face slowly began to heat up each time it did, but Michikatsu on the other hand had a pretty good view of your concentrated yet flustered expression.

You shifted to get up from your sitting position, only to feel a hand grab onto your wrist and pull you back down. You turn your head in disbelief, only to see that your noses were inches away from each other at the chain of events.

`` Thank you, [Y/N]. I mean it. ``

`` Well- you're welcome sensei… ``

Your bashful expression could not be hidden this time, and neither could Michikatsu's. The ends of his ears turned a bright red, thus letting you go at the realization of this because he was all too aware of his own emotions.

Hurriedly, you put your cleaning supplies away, moving so fast that you nearly tripped yourself. You could not help how you felt in that moment. Your emotions were all over the place and the only reason was because of him. Deep down you thought that yes he was attractive but his attitude was a bother. Even then, you still suppressed those feelings.

But not tonight.

`` Be careful, you might hurt yourself. There is no rush. ``

`` I apologize.. I am not used to having guests, my teacher being one no less. ``

He then suddenly patted the space beside him, signaling for you to sit down which you followed obediently, planting your hands in your lap and keeping keeping gaze low so as to not make eye contact.

`` Will you look at me? You seem to be heating up by the passing second. ``

`` It could just be your inagination..- ``

A finger was brought to your chin, tilting it to the side and upwards to examine your face at a better angle, although the tip of your noses brushed against each other at the close proximity. You had to admit, with the moon light shining through your window and the way the luminosity shone on Michikatsu's features, it made him look ten times more attractive than he already did.

`` Are you falling in love? I have a feeling you are. ``

You were ultimately taken aback by his sudden boldness even though he has mentioned that expressing how he feels just was not his thing. Your eyes widened ever so slightly while his expression stayed the same. Eyes partially lidded, mouth parted as his gaze glanced from your own irises to your lips. Your lips quivered to say something until you moved forward.

`` What if I say yes? What will you do about it. ``

`` Personally, I believe actions speak louder than words so.. ``

Just like that, you felt Michikatsu's lips press against your own yet pull away just as quickly, staring into your eyes once again until this time you moved forward, pressing your softer ones against his. The eagerness you felt in that moment showed with how you kept contact much longer than he previously did, but there were no complaints from neither of you.

A large hand moved to the small of your back, hesitantly pulling you in closer contact with his bare chest until yours was leaning into his. Pulling away at the close contact, the redness at the end of his ears spread to his cheeks just barely, and this time you visibly saw an expression other than the one he usually sports.

`` So I take that as a yes? ``

`` It was most definitely a yes Michikatsu. ``

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

#kny kokushibou #kokushibou #kokushibo x reader #kny x reader #kny imagines #demon slayer kokushibou #kny headcanons #kokushibou headcanons #reverse hashira au

107 notes · View notes

waddlenut · 3 years

Text

Masterlist of the masterlist - Harry Styles

I HAVE WRITTEN NONE OF THESE FANFICS, CREDITS TO THE WRITERS!

This is a masterlist of my reblogs :)

ONE DIRECTION

Fluff -

He doesn’t want to take advantage of you while you’re drunk (5/5)

You fall asleep on hijm in front of the boys (5/5)

Angst -

You get mobbed by paparazzi (Harry and Louis preference)

The one where your house is on fire and you are asleep (Niall preference)

You pass out (Niall)

Tiger (Niall finds his girlfriend looking in the mirror, judging her appearance)

HARRY STYLES

Fluff -

Choosing her (y/n overhears Harry sticking up for her)

The one where you have a huge fight and you are sick

Not your fault (fav. y/n has epilepsy and Harry feels helpless. TW - minor graphic description of an epilepsy attack)

Y/N is in a wheelchair and she is grocery shopping with Harry

Just talk (fav. y/n has a minor speech impediment and one of Harry’s friend makes fun of her for it. She doesn’t know how to react, Harry does.)

Tea mugs and tear stains (y/n gets overwhelmed and Harry helps)

Harry jokes about your moaning

A white t-shirt (Harry find out about y/n’s scars. TW - mentions selfharm/scars)

Y/N vomits down Harry’s gucci suit and Harry couldn’t give a shit (TW - throwing up)

Y/N falling in the shower and boyfriend!Harry getting ultra worried

You’re deaf and Harry is besotted with you

Cus y’laugh is pretty (in which Harry gets his wiskom teeth removed)

Y/N is stressed and Harry makes everything just a little bit better

Coming out to Harry as bisexual (good ending, no worries)

Sweater (y/n cold and steals Harry’s sweater)

Periods, pads and pain (Y/N is on her period)

Holding him (just pure love and affection)

He’s just jealous (fav. a small kids thinks Y/N is pretty and wants to sit with her)

My muse (TW - camille)

My hero (Harry being protective)

You’re poor and he doesn’t know

The best doctor (Y/N has chronic migraines)

First class (the one when Y/N and Harry meet during a long flight, and Harry makes a new little friend too) part 2

Your best friend negatively talks about you and Harry’s relationship and he overhears

Your english is so good yet, and someone makes fun of it. Harry does not appericiate that

The best gift (fav. Y/N can’t afford Harry’s life style. angst w/ fluff)

Right place, right time (fav. When someone starts following the reader, Harry is the prince on a white horse)

Harry points you out at his concert part 2 part 3

Y/N has an asthma attack at Harry’s place

Y/N gets drunk and uses Harry’s dick as a microphone

Y/N is breastfeeding in public and a man started saying rude remarkt to her, Harry knows how te react (fav)

Families meet (one where Harry’s family and Y/N Mexican family meet)

Her good baby (fav. Y/N has been really busy with a family program and kinda forgets about Harry. That’s until he breaks)

Spill your guts or fill your guts (based on spill you guts or fill your guts with Harry and Kendall but instead of Kendall it’s you)

Harry think Y/N and the kids forgot his birthday (fav)

CEO!Harry bring this baby angel to work, all fun until she gets lost

Y/N accidentally eating Harry’s edibles

Harry just cannot believe how much he loves

Harry and Y/N’s first thanksgiving in their home and a little announcement

Candy Wrappers (Harry loves candy, that results in a house full of candy wrappers)

Harry dating a curvy girl

Y/N and Harry’s home birth doesn’t go as planned

Under the canyon moon (dad!harry blowing raspberries into bubs tummy but they get a rash)

Y/N is in London while he is LA during quarantine (fav)

Quarantining with dad!Harry and your bub

Harry feels neglected when Y/N spends lots of time with Anne

Pregnant (where you’re pregnant during the corona outbreak and Harry is super protective)

Sunflower vol.6: the fic (fav. Y/N has tourette syndrome and Harry falls in love)

Bad days and good days (Y/N has depression and Harry takes care of her. TW - mentions of depression)

Mornings with the Styles family

Y/N following Harry around the house because she got scared watching a movie

Better than melatonin (Harry’s songs help you sleep)

Harry doing baby bubs hair in the bathroom while she’s facetiming Mitch (fav)

Harry helps you through childbirth

Anasthesia and letting go (reader has gotten their wisdome teeth removed and Harry takes care of them)

Getting naked in front of Harry for the first time

Harry reads Y/N a story to help her drift off to sleep

Want a chicken nugget (you’re taking a shower and Harry, knowing your love for chicken nuggets, comes and gives you one)

Rainbow cardigan (Harry loses his favorite cardigan. You learn how to knit)

My shy little boy (Y/N’s son is too shy to play with other kids at Anne’s house)

Golden dancing (fav. Harry is on stage singing golden and little Artemis comes running on stage and starts dancing)

Daddy (Artemis calls Harry daddy for the first time)

The first meeting (Y/N and Artemis met a handsome (to Y/N) and intimidating (to Artemis) man)

Watermelon suger (behind the scenes) (Shots of long-term girlfriend Y/N in watermelon suger. TW - some strong language)

Roses and vanilla (in which Y/N and Harry aren’t really close until Y/N falls in the shower, and Harry falls in love)

Babbles (bubby crying during a show just to get Harry’s attention so they can go on stage and babble into the mic)

No kids (H and his partner deciding not to have children)

Toxic family (fav. The reader doesn’t have the best family, lucky for them, the Styles are basically their family)

Harry’s son runs on stage

Listen to me (fav. Autistic!reader has a difficult moment)

Angst -

You pass out backstage

You have paranoia disorder

Can you leave? (fav. ceo!harry)

Complains (In which Y/N heard Harry complainging about her)

Taken (your abusive ex tries to contact you when Harry’s away on your. (TW - name calling and slight violence)

Autistic!reader has an interview with Harry (fav)

You get into a car accident when Harry’s in the middel of a concert part 2

Too busy for a baby (TW - harry’s an asshole + mentions of pregnancy)

Y/N gets anxiety at one of Harry’s concerts. (TW - anxiety and guns are mentioned)

He kicks you out of the car. (fav) part 2

Long way down (the one where she tinks he’s being unfaithful, and he questions the trust in their relationship. TW - mentions of creating and pregnancy complications) part 2

The one where you have a huge fight and you are sick

There’s a rumor being spread about you

Remember me (Harry forgets your birthday)

Harry calls Y/N clingy and she leaves

Harm done (fav. Y/N makes Harry food but he doesn’t even like it)

Harry coming home to find Y/N locked herself up in the washroom

Don’t touch her (you’re in the crowd and somebody touches you while Harry’s performing. TW - sexual harassment and mild assault)

Why would you keep something like this from me? (In which she’s been feeling umcomfortable and doesn’t tell Harry. TW - mentions of assault)

Y/N and Harry get in a bad argument and Y/N gets a panic attack (TW - panic attack)

And I can’t give that to you (fav. In which Harry suffers from seasonal depression ands he doesn’t know how to help)

So tired (you join Harry on tour but he seems to have other prirorites. Angst w/ fluff on the way) part 2

You have self-esteem issues (TW - talking about low self-esteem)

Y/N has an anxiety attack at a concert and calls Harry (TW - anxiety attack)

Even if it was momentary (in which Harry is forced to watch his worst nightmare)

Little white lie (a television talk show host feels you up backstage and you don’t tell Harry. TW - sexual harassment) part 2

He hides the fact that he’s sick on tour form you and insults you when you try to take care of him

There’s an intruder in her house (Harry comes home to find his girlfriend is being threatenend by an intruder. TW - some curse words, mentions of sex & just in general subject of break ins and panic)

Narcissistic behaviour (Harry loves to talka bout himself, but it’s suppose to be Y/N’s special day)

Miss you (where Y/N loses Harry’s rose ring and he gives them the silent treatment)

Dizzy (Y/N gets hurt on Harry’s watch. TW - fainting/passing out)

Happy birthday (in which Y/N throws Harry a suprise birthday party, but Harry ends up making her cry)

Harry comparing you to Camille

Exhaustedly in love (Y/N passes out as soon as Harry comes home from tour because she has been studying day and night)

Go home (in which Harry is jet lagged and you’re completely humiliated) part 2

Get out (Y/N is done with Harry being busy with work all the time) part 2

Anesthesia and apologies (fav)

Y/N has a condition that makes her have seizures (TW - mentions of seizures)

Harry loses his baby angel while shopping

Harry complains to the boys about Y/N and his sex life part 2

You’re in love with Harry but your self-doubt won’t believe he’s in love with you

Don’t shout (Harry doesn’t know what to do after he lied to Y/N)

Make it up to you (Harry loses his temper and almost hits you. TW - almost being hit by a lover and swearing)

I’ll get there (Y/N has been struggling with her body image ever since she was a teenager, but now that she was becoming a big time model, it had only gotten worse. TW - mentions of eating disorders and symptoms similair to those of a panic attack)

Smut -

Harry comes home to Y/N being in subspace but he doesn’t realize

Needy baby (the one where Harry’s bakc from tour and his girl really just needs to feel him)

Shower head

Harry gets emotional because he loves you so much

Taste my lips, feel my touch (Y/N’s stuck in subspace and Harry helps her out of it)

Where Harry is an asshole CEO but Y/N is his little love

Happy anniversary

Y/N goes into sub space when she is overwhelmed, but now it happend in public

Then again sometimes I get really sweet (TW - belly humping)

This cutest thing ever

Crossing the finish line

Right choice (Harry has a moustache now and you want get it sticky. TW - swearings, sexual intercourse and a sticky moustache)

Timing (Harry cumming early and he is upset and disappointed)

Cause I’m high, chewing on your taste (TW - Sub!Harry, H in fishnets and pegging)

Out in the heartland (It’s Harry’s birthday and you have a very special gift for him. TW - daddy kink, pegging, anal fingering and rimming)

#one direction masterlist #harry styles masterlist

784 notes · View notes

little-dragon-stories · 3 years

Text

It took me too much time

A friends to lover journey for Jiyong and Y/n. Here’s how it all began.

Warning: Smut, language, cuteness overload. Oooh, in the smut part, there is a bit of masochism (not to an extreme, it’s cute. Said in another way, she loves it when it hurts a bit), outdoor sex. Also, a big fear of storms, the mention of a fire.

W.C. 17796 (of pure hapiness... it made me very happy to write it <3)

Personal note: This is one of my fav gif of Ji. Let’s pretend that it’s him as he’s having a good time with his best friend, okay? Okay!

Sorry for that title and description, I didn’t know how to name it until now, LMAO.

Hopefully, you will love this one. It’s cute, sexy, funny. There is angst too.

Here it is

A double date, 5 years ago.

You were not sure if it was a good idea but you couldn’t refuse to go. It was a gift on a silver plate for your friend, more likely your favorite co-worker. Jiyong had agreed to go on a date with her but at one condition: it had to be a double date. Apparently, his friend Seunghyun was head over toes for you and was too shy to ask you out. It was the perfect occasion for Jiyong, maybe he would get some and his friend would have a chance to meet the girls he was silently in love with. Well, most precisely, to have a complete conversation instead of the formalities you exchanged when you served him at the café.

You were working in a café where the boys came to relax and eat after their practice At the time they came, the café was almost emptied from the patreons. They were the best friends in the world, bandmates working hard to pursue their dream in the music industry. They had made their debut a while ago and the reactions were enthusiastics. The press had good reviews of their albums and the fan base grew. They were starting big.

“It will be fun,” she said, “believe me, Seunghyun is such a cutie pie, a perfect match for you. Plus, you never went on a double date before so you can’t tell me that you don’t like it”.

“Okay but I’m only doing it for you. You owe me one girl...”

This is when you had met Seunghyun and Jiyong and got to have a real conversation with them. During the date, your friend was drooling in front of Jiyong, drinking each one of his words, a slanted smile across her face. It was cutely pathetic to witness.

Because you weren’t in a place in your life to have a boyfriend, you made it clear with Seunghyun that it would not be possible. Oh! perfect he was! He had a beautiful face, a sharp sense of humor, a deep voice and a tender smile. He was just magnificent. It could have worked, under different circumstances. It really could have.

When it was time to split and as much as they didn’t seem to fit together, Jiyong and your friend decided that they wanted to pursue the night together. Seunghyun had dropped you to your place, you exchanged phone numbers before you left his car. You didn’t fall for him the way he wanted but at least, he was a good person and you were willing to get to know him better, as a friend.

Even though the evening turned out to be a flop on the romantic level, something wonderful came of it. Your friendship with Jiyong and somehow with Seunghyun too. Just for that, the double date was more than worth it.

Present day

“Earth to the moon! 1.2, 1.2! There’s distortion on the line” Jiyong mocked.

“Sorry, I was thinking… Do you remember the first time we met?”

"Oooh! You mean the night I had the worst sex ever with that annoying bartender?”

“Damn boy, don’t be so mean. That poor girl did her best! She was probably so stressed to be in front of you. You were already a sex symbol back then!”

“True, I was undeniably sexy already” he said, shaking his butts but realizing what he just did, his cheeks turned pink.

Both of you laughed. You have lost your friendship with her the day Jiyong broke up with her, 2 weeks after the double date. Because you continued to talk to him, she cut you off of her life, telling you that you were not “on her side”. The last time you heard about her, she had divorced from her husband and was dating an old but rich CEO. She didn’t change at all, bitch was a sucker for money and status.

“Still Ji, you got to know me that night! You won in the long run, man!” you said, proudly flipping your hair.

“Aww! You’re so cute” he cooed, “True! What would I do without that adorable friend of mine that crashes my sofa each time they announce a storm” he said piling up the plates that had dried on the kitchen counter.

“Hey, it scares me okay?”

“Oh! I know you are scared but what the fuck am I suppose to do to protect you? I can’t stop the lightning from falling over your head!”

“YAH! You’re supposed to help me calm down! Not to scare the shit out of me!”

“Girl, you are so much cuter when you don’t have that badmouth!”

“I don’t want to be cute Ji! I just don’t want to die tonight! Did you see the sky? It’s gonna be hell of a storm, I’m telling you” you pointed to the window to mark your point.

“I hope we’ll survive!” he teased. He came closer to you and kissed your temple while one of his hands rested on your shoulder in a protective way. “At least you bought sushi! If we die tonight, it will be with a filled tummy. I have a new wine that will be perfect with it, too”.

“Ji, I don’t like it at all. I’m really scared. Don’t mock me”.

“I know, love! I’m just teasing you”.

Fun fact, you were not that scared of the storm anymore. Well, you were still scared but not petrified like you used to be. But because you had that habit of crashing his sofa and getting those nights in each time there was an appearance of a storm, you neglected to specify it to your friend.

“Anyway, I hope I didn’t ruin your plans. You can go, if you have a date you didn’t tell me about or something”.

“Nah, I have nothing to do that cannot be done from here, maybe just a little work. Plus, I have to protect you from the lightning with my super powers! What would you do without me?” he giggled.

You smiled at him tenderly. Jiyong was such a wonderful person. You were more than happy that you had the chance to call him your friend. He always had your back and you always had his. It was like that, you two against the world. For some reasons, each time something happens to one of you, the other would automatically feel it and call right away. It was like a premonition, a soulmate thing. It made you both smile and care for the other even more.

Of course, when one of you was in a relationship things got complicated. Your partners didn’t always understand that need you both have to call each other on a daily basis. “If she/he is so important to you, why don’t you marry her/him”? You both heard that often.

“Awww! You’re my personal superhero! I like that! By the way, before you arrived, I filled your fridge with side dishes and lunch boxes. I cooked for myself, so I brought you some”.

“You’re a bad liar, missy. You cooked for us, not for yourself only. You even bought us matching lunch boxes last month”

“True… I cooked for the both of us! And true, I bought it knowing it was matching, I couldn’t resist! Don’t make a big deal out of it, it was just too cute. Instead of a bff bracelet, we have bff matching lunch boxes” you exclaimed.

“Aaaaaw! Finally, you admit it was made to match! Thanks hun, I love the boxes and I love even more the food that you put in it”.

“My pleasure Mr Kwon! Let’s shower before it rains”

“ Why do you keep saying that?”

“It’s common sense and commun knowledge that you can’t shower or bathe when it rains in case there will be a storm, okay? I’ll go first”.

You ran to the bathroom before he had the time to argue. You knew what he was about to say anyway. He told you many times but you were still really scared of it. When you were a teenager, lightning crashed a utility pole near your house, causing an electrical fire. The strong winds had pushed the flames and your house was set on fire despite the heavy rain. It all happened while you were in the shower. That night, you were babysitting your little brother and you had to evacuate the house in a towel with him in your arms. The bad association of shower and strom had stuck in your head even though there was nothing dangerous for real. You were doing your best and you were fighting against your fear with all the courage that you had, but you still had to work more.

You turned the water off, got out of the luxurious shower and sighted with ease when your feet landed on the fluffy bath mat. Caressing the soft fabric with your toe, you wonder if you were walking on something that was worth more than the price of your car!

“Jiiiiii! Jiyong!" when he didn’t answer the tenth time you called out his name, you went out of the bathroom. You were wrapped in his bathrobe with your hair raised in a white towel “Where the hell are you?” you called out.

“YAH! Don’t swear love. It’s not cute” He was adding the dressing on top of a roasted veggies salad he just fixed for you. He didn’t like it but he knew it was your favorite. Therefore, he always kept the ingredients in his fridge to be able to serve you one. That and your favorite chocolate, your favorite champagne and wine, your favorite ice cream and so much more little things that you cherish.

“I don’t need to be cute because you already are whipped for me. Plus, I’m not your girl, so cute or not, you’re not supposed to care!”

“What are you saying? You’re the cutest girl of them all, why can’t you see it? You’re my sweet but bad mouthed girl”.

At that moment, he lifted his head and noticed how you were dressed. More likely, not dressed, in front of him. You were so cute with your concerned face, frowning with an obvious concern written on your face. He turned his head to look the other way around, covering his eyes with one hand and blushing shyly.

“I’m sorry I took your bathrobe but you were not answering me”.

“I didn’t hear you, what is it that you had to come here naked?”

“I’m not naked, relax for god’s sake! Plus a body is a body, we’re all constructed on the same pattern. So please, just calm down”.

“I can’t relax. You’re naked in front of me”

“Not naked, Sweet baby Jesus. You wanna see what naked really is?” You teased, toying with the knot of the dressing gown. Of course you would never open it and flash your naked body to him like that but he was annoying with his conservative ass and you felt a little bit provocative.

“Yah! Keep it for your man, you naughty!”

“Jesus Christ… I won’t undress, take it easy. Anyway, I’m done with the shower. I just wanted to tell you that it’s your turn. Go, before the storm starts, it’s so dark it will soon. I’ll get dressed in your room, okay?”.

Uncomfortable, he didn’t argue and ran into the shower.

He didn’t like to see you undressed, for some reasons. He was always telling you “love, can you buy longer skirts next time?”, “A bikini, are you kidding me? Why not a normal one piece swimsuit?”, “Please Y/n, don’t walk around the house in just a towel”. Jiyong had a vision of nudity that was beyond your comprehension. You never saw each other naked, that goes without saying. And of course, you never complied to his demands, telling him that you were not more or less dressed than other women of your age, which was true. You were not wearing revealing clothes anyway, he was just too old fashion. Maybe you were pushing it with the towel thing but hey! He was even worse than you, walking in his briefs way more often than you were ‘indecent’ yourself.

When he came out of the shower, you had comfortably draped your neck with a long scarf. You were wearing a Bigbang crop top with the inscription 'V.I.P for life" and short shorts that you wore to sleep only. A long cream cardigan buttoned up to your chin covered it all. You knew you wouldn’t need more clothes to stay warm, you had a big blanket resting on the armrest of his couch.

You finished assembling the plates with the sushi, served yourself an extra big portion of his salad and put it all on the coffee table in the living room. The wine and the bottle opener were waiting on the table with some nachos, salsa and candies for later. It was usually sitting on the floor with your back leaning against the sofa as you started the evening. Normally you weren't able to finish a movie because one or the other often fell asleep before the end. More likely, it was him that fell asleep. Then, you would always gently slide his head on a small cushion over your thighs and stroke his hair. At the end of the film, you never had the courage to wake him up, you knew that his sleep was precious and that he often suffered from insomnia. You let him in the same position and fell asleep with your head uncomfortably leaned against the couch. In the morning, he had moved and would be in a different position, on the floor. You didn’t know that he never realised the scalp and head massages. Tonight, he will notice though.

Jiyong had the bad idea to put a horror movie at night like this one, when you were already nervous. He didn’t think twice, as soon as the movie you wanted to watch for so long was out, he bought it for you. He was not a bit interested in it but he knew you would be happy.

“Tadam,” he cutely said when the title appeared on the screen.

“Oh, thanks Ji, you remembered”.

“Duh! Of course, you kept rambling about it for days” he teased.

“I’m happy, at least I’ll be scared for something else than the storm. It’s perfect”.

The movie had started and really soon, Jiyong knew that he wouldn’t make it through the end.

It was the thunder that awakened him. There was rain, lightning and strong winds outside. Despite the storm roaring, he felt enveloped in a big comforting bubble, cocooned under a blanket like a burrito. Above all, the familiar and comforting smell, your smell, that shielded him with security and pure happiness. He felt as if he was in a dream. He was too comfortable to open his eyes but he knew his head was on your thighs and it was your hands on his neck.

Your hands… on his neck!

You had slipped your fingers under his nape, cupping it, your thumbs resting gently on his throat. He felt vulnerable but yet, secure at the same time. He felt raw, in the most beautiful and pure way. He recognised your scent, your warmth, your breathing. What was he doing, lying on you like that? He wasn’t sure but he never felt like home more than right now. A little confused, he opened his eyes and analysed his surroundings.

You were concentrated on what was happening to the screen, softly murmuring advice to the characters in order to, as far as he could tell, not being murdered with a chainsaw.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid… Girl, at this point it will be natural selection… See, I told you! You deserved it, not gonna lie”

Jiyong smiled at your cuteness. This is when he felt your hands start to move on his neck.Your fingers were making a gentle downward pressure close to the base of the skull, you were stretching his neck muscles and it was orgasmic. He said nothing, did nothing and even stopped thinking. He refrained himself from groaning with pure happiness.

“See what you did there? How could you take such a dumb decision” still talking to the television. He wouldn’t be surprised if you start to throw food at the screen!

In this position, he could see you from a new angle. A “from above’ angle that gave him dirty thoughts. In a split second, that tender moment turned into a hunger. An intense impulse that he felt quite often recently. An unbearable desire combined with an impulse of the heart. It was a strange feeling, he had never felt like that before.

If he turned his face 90 degrees and went just a few centimeters down, he would be right at the good place to please you with his tongue and lips and fingers… Just the thought of it made blood boil.

“Woah Kwon Jiyong! Stop it!” he thought for himself. “Are you so horny that you will try to hit on your sweet best friend and ruin 5 years of a solid friendship? Damn it boy!” But also, dirty things happened between you, once. Maybe it was possible again… But was it what he wanted, a one shot deal? He was quite not sure about it.

Before he could stop his hormones from increasing, he felt his blood run directly to his crotch. He was so hard, it was almost as if all the blood contained in his body had decided to meet there. Your fingers continued to massage his neck, stretching the muscles, putting some pressure on different spots. You were completely unaware of his state, naive little creature that you were.

It could have been a perfect blissful moment but his fucking dick had interrupt. He knew it was unfair to stay like that, to let you massage him with the effect it had on the south direction his blood was taken. So, he took one of your hands and kissed your fingers before he sat up.

“Oooh, sleepy head. You’re awake?” you smiled at him with that beautiful smile of yours. You were not wearing any makeup, your hair was messy and your clothes didn’t match but you were just perfect like that. You had the most beautiful face he never saw in his life. How come he didn’t realise it sooner?.

“Hum mmm. You love the movie?” he placed a cushion on his middle to hide his erection.

“It’s good, yes! Are you okay? You’re pale!”

“Not surprising, the blood has left my head!”

“What? You have a headache?”

“Forget it. I’ll fresh up a bit. Be right back”

He used to good advantage the fact that your attention was again turned towards the screen. He got up in a hurry, hiding what he had to hide. He went to the bathroom and cleaned his face to cool down. Looking inside his briefs, he sighted!

“Fuck you Kwon Jiyong! Fuck! Fuck! What’s your problem? She’s your friend, dammit! She is just a sweet and cute girl. What’s happening to me recently? Why have I started to dream of her? Why did I start longing for her? What are those bubbly sensations that I feel when she’s coming home to me?”.

Recently, he had noticed that not only his body reactions were different but that his emotions had changed as well. That he was more and more happy to see you. That he had way more thoughts about you than he used to. To a point that he even refused a date with an interesting woman just to be able to call you on time, just because he had said “I’ll call you before 9”. He said it, he had to comply, right? What did you talk about? Sweet nothings but it was still a wonderful moment. He allowed himself a few moments for the blood gathered in his penis to turn back. He had a crazy hard time getting there.

Having the sensation that he was not feeling good, that something was not okay, you paused the movie and walked towards the bathroom.

“Do you need something Jiyong? You are really pale, I’m not joking. It seems like you have seen a ghost” you said as soon as he opened the door.

He was mad, but not at you. He was mad at himself for the reaction his body had. Confused too. He also knew that he couldn’t tell you what just happened because you would tease him for days. Or worse, you would exclaim a loud and clear disgusted “EEEW” to tease him. That he couldn’t support.

“Listen, I’m going to sleep early tonight. You can continue the movie, don’t wait for me”.

Without an explanation he left for his bedroom and closed the door. It was rude but it was a necessity.

You came back to the living room and sat on the couch. Your thighs were still mild with Jiyong’s warmth.

You couldn’t concentrate on the movie. What’s got into him? You stood up and walked towards his room, concerned. You just hope that he didn’t discover your ‘secret’.

3 years ago, on Christmas eve

After you finished hanging the garlands, you stepped back and enjoyed your hard work, satisfied. Yesterday, Jiyong announced that the band would not be able to fly to Korea for Christmas. Something happened with their schedule and unexpectedly they had to stay in Hong Kong a little longer before they would resume their world tour.

You didn’t want Jiyong and the boys to stay in their room and alone for Christmas. You had called Daesung’s girl of moment and Seunghyn’s sister and shared your plan with them. Youngbae’s girl had already joined him a couple of days ago. You would make a little reception for your boys. After all, no one should be alone on Christmas Eve. With the girls, you prepared it all.

“Can you taste the punch? I’m scared that I didn’t put enough rhum”

“I did taste it and it was perfect” you answered. “Seunghyun will add wine in his glass anyway, wait for it”

She laughed, it was exactly like his brother to do that.

“Oh, they’re coming. I’m so nervous” you told her.

In the plane for HongKong, you had decided to open up to Ji about your new feelings for him. Lately you had come to the conclusion that you were in love with him. What you thought was just a mere flirt at the beginning, soon turned out to be much more. It was love, with capital A. You had taken your time to analyse your feelings but it was kind of obvious. You were just not accepting the fact before, even though you were facing all the proof.

What is the first thing that comes to your mind in the morning? Jiyong.

Who do you want to hug when you feel the need to snuggle against someone? Ji.

Who’s hand do you want to hold, when you walk on the street or discover a new city? Yep! Jiyong again.

Who do you want to make love to, when you feel that need between your legs?

Who makes your heart skip a beat because of his cuteness?

Who makes you a horny mess when he smiles?

Who do you think will be the father of your children, when you imagine yourself nursing a baby?

Ji, Ji and Ji. Always him. He was your soulmate and the guardian of your heart. You couldn’t imagine a moment without him in your life. You wanted more. You wanted to take all of him. You had no choice but to tell him, you were not able to keep it for yourself anyway. He had even questioned you about the recent changes in your attitude. Soon, you won’t be able to hide it anymore, you rather should tell him while you were still having control over yourself. You were really scared of his possible rejection though. It was petrifying. But the possibility that maybe he shared the love was stronger and it made you so happy to imagine what you could become together. How your friendship would transform into love. Into love making. Into a deeper relationship.

It was decided. You will confess tonight, in the hotel room after the party. You’ll deal with the consequences later.

You were waiting for the boys in the suite that you had reserved. It was a simple room that the hotel rented for meetings or private events like tonight. Because it was Christmas, it was available and you didn’t have any trouble making a last minute reservation.

The door of the suite opened on Jiyong’s manager. He was aware of the little reception, you needed someone to drag the boys in. They entered the room one by one. You didn’t notice the happiness on their face when they discovered the 3 ladies waiting for them with food, alcohol and gifts, you were looking for Jiyong only. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found. Seunghun came and closed the door for more privacy, already having a glass of punch in hands.

“Wait, Ji has not arrived yet”.

His features went grave but his voice remained soft and calm. He seemed sad. He seemed to be pitying you too, his concerned eyes looking at you the same way you imagine he will be looking at his child when he’ll say “Santa Claus doesn’t exist for real”.

“He won’t be coming. He had other plans for tonight, something that popped up. I’m really sorry”

“Is he okay? Where is he?”

“This morning, he met a woman in the restaurant of the hotel. A cute damsel in distress. Well, one thing after another, it turned out that he invited her to the concert. And well… they left together, if you know what I mean”.

Your heart started to beat really fast. You didn’t like the turn of the conversation. Seunghyun’s sister covered her mouth with a hand, shocked, as she realized what her brother was telling you. It seemed that they knew about your feelings for Ji. Were you that obvious?

“Oooh… Maybe she can come here too” you said but it was absolutely not what you wanted.

“I guess they’re having sweet fucking sex” Dae laughed as he looked as his girlfriend, implying that it’s what he will have too, later!

“Woah… okay… okay”

You sat on the couch next to you and held your head. There is no way in hell that you will let your pain show in front of Jiyong’s friends. But there was also no way you could stop the tears from falling down your cheeks. Without a word, you left the suite for the room that you rented, in case Ji would reject you.

You were still crying, the next day when he had knocked on your door and entered your room, all excited and agitated like a puppy. More likely, like a man who hit the jackpot recently. He seemed so happy about the night he had spent, butterflies dancing in his stomach as he was telling you how cute she was. How he had spent the night of his life. How he couldn’t wait to see her again. He was so excited and centered towards his own happiness that he didn’t notice your red and bloody eyes.

“Ji, don’t stay with me then. Go meet her right now! I guess she feels the same way and you’ll take it where you left it!”

“But you travelled all the way here and prepared such a sweet party for me and the boys! I saw the pictures, it seemed so much fun”.

“Yah! I’d rather stay with your friends and mine, by the way, than staying a minute longer with you while you imagine yourself having sex with another woman”

“Another? It’s not like I had that many women either”

It was not the sense of your word ‘another’ but you didn’t precise it. The word had slipped your lips anyway.

“True, I’m sorry. Go, Ji! Live up for your dreams! Wout! Wout!” you encourage him, fist up in the air with the biggest smile that you could to hide your sadness. Your eyes were your pain untold and you wish you would tell him everything.

“Sure, hun?”

“Yes, sure thing. We’re taking the plane tomorrow. If I don’t see you by then, here’s my new year kiss” you said, planting a smack on his cheek. You needed to kiss him and hold him, just for a second. To steal him from her and keep him for yourself only, a short instant.

“Merry Christmas Ji. I love you so much” you whispered. Of course, he didn’t catch the extra meaning you had implied “And may the new year bring you only happy moments, you deserve it”.

“Aaaw, Merry Christmas my sweet girl. May the year bring you a man that will make you happy, for once. You were unlucky lately”.

You laughed ironically.

“Nah, I’ll be okay on my own for a while. Go now”. How could he have unnoticed that you were in pure agony? That your heart had been pierced with a thousand arrows? He was always so attentive normally. That was a good thing though, you prefer him to be happy with her than unhappy with you.

“Thanks, you’re the best friend ever, so understanding. I’ll tell you everything in detail later”.

“... Have fun”

He left in a hurry without a single look back and it broke what remained strong inside of you. You crumbled on the ground, unable to support your own body weight any longer. You never thought you could be rejected by him without having a single chance to say a word. You never thought you would be broken like that. You will need a lot of courage to be able to face him again. But also, it would be worse if he disappeared from your life. There was no perfect situation here, either way you were losing a part of yourself.

“That man is so fucking stupid” you heard Seunghyun tell his sister by the door Jiyong had left open a moment ago. . “How could he do that? Is he blind?"

You closed the door, you didn’t want to hear more. You cried all day and night, curled up in the bed. You didn’t see Jiyong afterwards, while you were in Hong Kong. He didn’t come back from his cloud, therefore he didn’t come back to you.

He had stayed in a relationship with her for a whole year. The exact time it took you to get over him. Or did you really?

Present day

You tiptoed your way to his bed and benched in front of him. His eyes were closed, he seemed to be asleep already. In his sleeping state, he was frowning, this was unusual.

He was not but he didn’t say a word, still mad and shocked. He didn’t know how to deal with it, his sudden desire for you. He couldn’t just say “let’s fuck” and then pretend like nothing happened afterward, your friendship was on the line. The only time that something happened between you, something sexual, there was a context. And you didn’t ‘really’ do something together anyway. How can’t he forget about it? How can’t he put it aside and move on? Why was he trying to relive this with his partners afterward? But of course, it was impossible, they were just not you. He realised it now! If it was not that good with them, it’s because they were simply not the good person. They were not you.

“Ji, are you okay?” he heard you ask with worry.

No answer.

You placed a hand on his forehead to see if he had a fever. Satisfied by his body temperature, you retracted your hand with much concern. You knew him way too much to buy his sleeping state.

“Ji, I’m scared, you didn’t seem well tonight, you were really pale. I will sleep by your side to check on you, do you mind? Like we did before, when we checked on my niece. Okay? I can’t guarantee that I’ll be as good as you were though.”

No answer.

He clearly didn’t want to talk to you. Or was he sick and had passed away?

“If you don’t want to, it’s okay. I’ll squat the couch or the bed in the guest room. But the couch is more comfy. Would you prefer if I leave your house? The temperature is still bad outside but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around me”

“Y/n, can you jump on the bed and shut the hell up so I can go back to sleep”? his tone was harsh.

Shocked, not sure how to take it, you did as he said and waited there, looking at the ceiling. You were cold but didn’t want to move or even less, to slide yourself under the comforter where he seemed so comfortable and warm. He was facing the other side and you could almost hear him thinking. The cat came in the bed and sat on his master’s pillow. Jiyong sighted, chased A-Ye and turned on his back. He didn’t say a word, didn’t look at you, didn’t move a single muscle afterwards.

It’s his sweet giggle that woke you up in the middle of the night. You had fallen asleep but obviously, he didn’t. From the lamp sitting on the bedside table emanated a warm and felted light. Jiyong was eating ramyeons while watching something on his cell. Confused, you sat up and rubbed your eyes.

“You seem better, it’s a relief”.

“I just realised something. Remember the other day when I joked about your google research?”

“YAH! How many times do I have to tell you, I did NOT search for blowjobs instructions”.

“I know now!” he laughed.

What happened was that, about 2 months ago, you made a google research on your laptop while you were waiting for him at his studio. You had written “How to give a good head massage” but the research bubble showed everything but the important last word. The word that changed the meaning of the whole sentence.

He didn’t want to believe you even when you showed him the page with explicit pictures of the head massage popping from the screen. He thought that you had just opened it fast, to save the appearances. He had teased you for days with that, mocking you gently.

“I told you that I wanted to use a new technique when I massage your head. You didn’t believe me”.

“Because I didn’t know you were massaging my head. Now, I get it”.

“Why didn’t you believe me?”.

“Why didn’t you massage my head when I’m awake?”

“I don’t know”

“I don’t know either”

Your eyes met and you both laughed out loud. You were happy to have your friend back, at least momentary. You still didn’t know what happened earlier.

“Will you stop mocking me with the blowjob thing, now?”.

“Yes, I already stopped when I noticed that you were mad for real… Sorry hun, I mocked you. I should have known better”.

“Excuses accepted. Now, let’s forget about it… please”.

He didn’t talk for a minute, you were both lost in your thoughts. You grabbed the chopsticks he was holding and swallowed a large portion of ramyeon, hungry.

“Ji”

“Hum?”

“Why were you mad at me tonight?”

“I was not mad at you at all, I was mad at myself”.

“Why though?”

“I’d rather not talk about it”.

“Okay then, but I’m here if you want to”.

“I know... Now go back to sleep and stop eating my ramyeons”.

“Nah, feed me more. I’m starving. AAAAAH” You opened your mouth for him to feed you one bite. He did and gave you his bowl and chopsticks without further discussion. He had decided to let you eat it all anyway.

“Here, take it”

“Mmmm, it’s delicious. Thanks Ji”

He looked at you closing your eyes to savor the noodles, not a single bit conscious that it would break him. He was so naive. When he heard the little moan that escaped your lips after you took a bite, he remembered everything you had said when you were talking about the ‘not blowjob’ research.

“You know, I talk with my partners, it’s their ‘instructions’ that I follow, not general tips made for a general audience on the internet. I adjust with their reactions too. Nobody loves it the exact same way”.

“Ji, for god’s sake! I told you that yes, I searched for that a long time ago, when I was young. From that, I improved my technique and I didn’t feel the need to search again. I wouldn’t be shy to tell you if I would REALLY have searched for it”.

and later that night...

“Please don’t believe that I’m a pro either, I’m not that good! It’s just that I really didn’t search. You know what, now that I think about it, I should search for it. We never know, maybe I could still improve” with a blink.

Eating your ramyeons with appetite, you were unaware of the thoughts spinning in his head. You didn’t know that your relation was about to take a complete new turn. That the image he had in his mind right was nothing but pure. You were also really naive.

2 years ago or the ocean event

Jiyong had decided to bring you to Hawaii like this, on the spur of the moment and for no actual good reason. Dae and his current conquest joined your improvised journey and the four of you had flight to the paradisiac island for a whole week of pure bliss.

You closed the door of your room and went down to meet Ji. He texted you that he was already down there, ready for the beach like you had planned before you split last night after you took a walk in the streets with the natives.

“Hun, were you able to sleep last night?'' he asked, rubbing his beautiful sleepy eyes when you met in the lobby. You walked outside and sat on a bench near the entrance to apply the sunscreen he handed you. Of course, he knew that you would have forgotten yours.

“Nope, there were people banging in the wall and screaming like if they were in distress or something. Did you hear that? Why did she have to yell like that? I would have shove my dick in her mouth if I was her partner, at least she would have shut the fuck up. It was so fake!”

“Woah! You’re violent! Good thing that you don’t have a dick. Don’t judge, you were not there. It’s just her way of expressing her pleasure, chill hun! No one is hurt”.

“Her pleasure? For 4 hours straight like that, no change in the pace! Come on Ji, you know better! She yelled all night long, how could that even be possible? No rupture in the tempo… No break, no slowing down, no changes in the play, nothing. It was fake, I’m telling you. Maybe they were filming porn…”

He laughed, you continued.

“In a way or another, she was annoying. But the bitch got fucked and not me. I guess that’s the reason why I’m so pissed” you added. Seeing his eyes widened, you smiled.

“What? I have needs too”

“I don’t want to know” he giggled, placing his hands over his ears. At this moment, Daesung arrived and sat between you and Ji. Looking at one after the other, seemingly in shock.

“Did you hear it?”

“We did” you answered, ready to complain with him.

“It was sooo hot, right? Woah! It gave me and Shirl a lot of audio stimulations. It was nice, we kind of followed their rhythm.” he seemed shocked but pleased at the same time. Without another word, he stood up and left abruptly. You watched him leave in silence.

“Ji, I hate all the couples in the world. All of them”.

“Someone is not in a good mood today. When is the last time you got laid, I can’t pinpoint it”

“Because I never tell you when I do, we don’t talk about stuff like that… but it was a long time. Maybe last year or something”

You were in a relationship with a beautiful man when you had realised that you were in love with Jiyong last year. You were still trying to forget Jiyong, compelling yourself to stop loving him. It was impossible.

“Damn… it’s been a long time. So, your last boyfriend then”.

“Yep… I won’t ask you since you were in a relationship till recently”

“True, she was the last one. 2 months is long... Wait, where are you going???”

“I’m going to calm my hormones in the ocean. I’m suddenly horny and need a distraction. Hopefully the water will be cold enough”

“I’ll go with you, I need it too”

You entered the water running and laughing like kids. You felt light, like there was nothing going wrong in your life or in the entire world. You felt detached from reality but in a good way. The flowing of the tide was languorous, the ocean was forging its own sea-song. The freshness of the water was invigorating. For at least an hour, you and Jiyong had bickered and played around, alone in your own little universe. You threw water at each other’s face, tried to immerse the other into the water, tried to surf on a cheap plastic plank that was abandoned on the shore, falling on each attempt and laughing like you didn’t have the chance to, lately. The only time you were out of the water was to take a sip of your drink that Daesung was keeping safe for you while sunbathing with Shirlee. It wasn’t quite a good idea to drink that much alcohol when horny … not a good idea at all.

“Y/n… It didn’t work!” Jiyong said sheepishly.

“I mean it’s water, it’s slippery… How could it worked” you answered, knowing exactly what he meant.

“Water turns you on?”

“Damn… not the water itself. But a wet body against another wet body… I mean… Oh, shit! I didn’t mean that you turned me on, it’s not like that. It just reminded me of, you know… things I did in the past”

It was a big fat lie. You never had sex in the water. But you won’t tell him that his hot and wet skin against yours made you even more needy than you were before. That the water dripping from his bang was sexy. That his muscular arms, shoulders and those damn abs were giving you bad thoughts. You couldn’t tell him anything like that.

“What are we gonna do about it?”

“I won’t do anything, what do you mean?”

“Well… maybe if we turn our back on each other, we can, you know… relieve ourselves. Together, doing our own little things but not... ”

“I got it Ji, no need to say more…”

Was it alcohol? The burning sun? His cute and so sexy smirk? For a moment, you played with the idea. Jiyong had reserved the most private resort he could find in the country and the beach was almost empty. You could see some people away but no one close enough to see anything that you were doing on the beach even less in the water. Some staff members were walking around, doing their own little things. No one cared about what you were doing. Beside, the water was deep blue and it was impossible to see through it. You could easily jerk yourself off under the depth water and no one would notice.

“But if we turn around, Daesung will get suspicious, he will think we fight and start asking questions. He’s watching over us, you know”.

“Yes… But I can’t get out of the water hun, my cock refused to calm down”.

“You have a big problem, man. I’m so sorry for you” you mocked.

“You’re not helping at all” he was almost annoyed. You understood how he felt, after all, you were horny too. You were both adults, there must be a solution. After all, he proposed something interesting.

“Ji, you know, your hands are in the water right now and I see nothing. Go a little deeper, we won’t notice your arms and shoulders. Turn the other way around, that way you won’t see me while you… you know. I won’t see anything for sure. Don’t worry. Do what you have to do, I won’t look”

“Are you serious? What about you?”

“I’ll be just fine, no worry. I can wait for when I’m in my room”.

“Sure? Ok, you’re amazing!” he smiled widely.

You didn’t know it but as soon as he turned around, he was not so into it anymore. Maybe it was the thought of doing it with someone that was so exciting. A cute and stunning lady… so sexy in her bikini.

You had turned around to let him do his thing but horny you were too. Not to mention, Jiyong, the man you loved in silence for a complete year was about to stroke himself right now, you won’t miss it so you swan towards him. He was in a deep zone, but still able to touch the ground unlike you. You arrived from behind and hugged him tightly, your arms snaked around his neck, your knees keeping balance on each side of his hips, carefully not circling him.

“Is it good?” you murmured.

“What are you doing?”

“Joining the party” You didn’t know, but there was no party so far. His penis had even softened back to its almost normal size.

“Ooooh….”

Where Jiyong was standing you couldn’t reach the bottom, the water level reached your mouth, you tried and you choke on the salted water. You had to keep a hand on him.

“Hun, stay where you are, let’s do it together, but not together. Is it okay with you?”

“Oh Jiiii… I’ve already started” you purred.

“But you’re holding me…”

“Yes, I’m holding you. I won’t drown for an orgasm”.

“Fair enough… I shall get going too, then”

He was clearly not as cocky as he was 2 minutes ago. You figured that you surprised him with your initiative.

“If you prefer, I’ll leave you alone, no worry”.

“You know, I have a voyeur side inside of me, I love this idea too much to let you go”

“Good, cause I’m a tiny bit of an exhibisionnist… well, a big bit finally” you cutely added, knowing it was not an actual word.

He smiled and looked at you above his shoulder, shocked but excited to discover that spicy side of yours.

“Perfect match then” he stated.

“Turn your face around, put your hand on your dick and stroke yourself… let me do my thing…” you palmed his neck and guided his face the other way around so he would be looking at the ocean instead at you, holding onto his back like a baby koala.

“Lord, help me cause I’m a sinner”

He attentively tried to catch a hint on what was happening on his back. You were holding onto his shoulder with one hand and he didn’t see anything, didn’t feel anything. You were cautious not to make any wave. He wanted more visuals, not that he needed it. Just to add some zest to the experience.

“Are you doing it?” The tone of his voice, his signature soft voice, was the most comforting and exciting thing at the same time. He had the cutest and the sexiest tone ever.

“Ji, shut the fuck up”, you said a little short of breathe. So, you had started, he thought.

“Come on, give me something, love. Are you really masturbating?”

You stopped and this is when he noticed the difference of motion in his back, the difference of pressure your knees applied on his hips in order to stay still despite the waves. Suddenly, it was quieter, this is how he knew that indeed, you were doing it subtly.

“You want me to leave you alone?”

He turned around abruptly. Now facing you, the lust in his dark chocolate eyes was sparkling. A sight that you imagined so often, lightning up his beautiful features for your eyes only to see. Not to mention the sunlight gently caressing his skin. His eyes half closed because of the sun. His damped messy hair carelessly falling on his forehead and temples. This vision itself was enough for your heart to melt and your core to liquefy.

“Y/n, I don’t want you to leave. It’s just that I didn’t know if you were doing it for real, I want, I don’t know… I would like...”

“Don’t hold back, tell me exactly what you want, cause I’m horny here and I need to do something about it” you told him as you touched your thigh, a soft caress along your skin, looking straight into his eyes. You didn’t begin but you knew that the moment to come will be pure. Unselfish. Undemanding. Free.

He looked at the movement of your shoulder, he couldn’t see below that level. He wished he had chosen a turquoise and clear sea to be able to see everything that was happening under.

“I’m not sure of what I can ask in this kind of situation”

“Just if you still really want to, think of us as partners in crime. We’re 2 needy adults that consent to masturbate side by side. We won’t touch each other, just be together while we’re both having fun with ourselves like you just suggested. Let’s say that everything that happens in the ocean, stays here in the ocean. We won’t remember it once we reach the shore and we’ll never talk about it anymore. Deal?”

“You’re wonderful. Deal”

“Now… close your eyes and touch yourself”.

Strangely, you were not uncomfortable with the situation. You knew that no matter what happened, you would be safe and respected. He would never mock you or judge you. You were free to be and act in complete harmony with your desires, without holding anything back. It was the perfect foundation for a meaningful dirty play. In that moment, your chemistry became an ever-bright flame.

He moved his hand down but refused to look anywhere but straight to your eyes. He never saw that luxurious expression on your face, never heard that carnal voice, almost too low to be heard. He needed to hear you moan. Were you the type to hold back because too shy to be heard? He doubts that, now. He wonders if you were more of a high-pitched sounds or a guttural moaner. Suddenly, it was the most important question to be answered.

“What are you doing?” This is when the now ‘face to face’ thing became more interactive. His piercing gaze was on you, it’s you that he was looking at, no one else.

You smirked. He wanted to play that game, well you were hell of a player!

“You wanna know how I touch myself?” your voice was a low murmur, it sent shivers down his spine.

“Yes, tell me…” he gulped, unable to guess what was ‘really’ happening under the blue sea. How do you like to be caressed? What makes you cum?

“Right now, I’m taking it really slow and superficial…”

You paused to breathe. For obvious reasons, the oxygen demand in your cells has increased with all the symptoms that comes with it: fast heartbeat, short breath, your senses on red alert.

“I’m too excited, the second I touch my clit or slide a finger in, I will cum. I love that you’re asking me. It’s fucking hot” you miraculously were able to say.

“Your answer is hotter, believe me. You look really beautiful like that… So sexy… tell me in detail everything that you’re doing”.

“I’m pinching my clit, I need to calm down... now squeezing it between my palms, it’s good” you moan softly. After a moment you shivered and it seemed that you stopped touching yourself, taking your hand out of the water to show him.

“You were about to cum?” he smirked

“Fuck yes”.

“You love to touch yourself with me? You love that I look at you pleasuring yourself?”

You nodded, nothing else needed to be said. He grabbed your free hand, your right one, and nibbled every single fingertips, sucking gently.

“It doesn’t taste anything but salt, damn it!”

His longing eyes never left yours. Just that, him desiring you, dirty talking to you, was sending you over the moon. He gently guided your hand in front of your core and his came back where it was: on your hip.

“Jiii… now, I’m scratching it all with my nails, it hurts and it’s fun at the same time… ”

“YOU WHAT? Woah! You love when it’s painful?” he exclaimed, shocked. You were not exactly how he imagined you would be, sexually speaking. To be honest, he thought you were a sweet vanilla girl, one that prefers convenient sex more. That frosted side that he was discovering, pleased him a lot.

“I love it when it hurts a little bit… I love when it burns… I love when it’s sucked hard. What are you doing?” you breathe slowly between each affirmation.

“Looking at you only, at the moment… I think I will cum in my pants just like that! Hands free orgasm! I bet your clit is swollen right now...”

“Let me see… oooh yes... It’s really sensitive. I’m tracing small lines up and down, it feels good. I won’t last long… I let my nail trails his way up… omph”

Your clit was indeed overflowing with blood. Knowing that Jiyong was watching made you more sensitive than you ever was before. Now that it has started, there was no way out of the game. You couldn't move away from his gaze even if you tried, like he’s eyes have short circuited your mind in the best possible way.

“So beautiful... Do you imagine your fingers to be someone else?”

“Nah! I’m right here with you, it’s already really arousing”

Of course, you won’t tell him that it’s his fingers that you imagine as you rubbed smooth circles across your clit.

“Ji… It’s good… Now, I slide 3 fingers in… it’s so good… Jiii… I’m gonna cum… Oh lord… I knew I wouldn’t last”

“I can see it… I feel your hips love… I bet you’re thrusting to meet your fingers, right? … you’re so hot”

You closed your eyes as you locked your hips against your hand, hitting your spot right away. With Jiyong’s obvious enjoyment, the ultimate pleasure hit you. You quivered erratically and in the process you pressed yourself against him. His wet and slippery chest against yours was enough material for your next 5000 lonely nights. When your mouth founded his shoulder, you sank your teeth onto the trapeze muscle and took a big bite of him. You needed it to suppress your moans. He continued to encourage you, despite the pain.

“Don’t stop now, I’m sure you can surf on it a little longer… that’s it love… Softs movements this time, give yourself some tenderness, my wild flower… softer with your teeth too, please” he asked, cutely and you released some pressure on your teeth but kept your mouth there. “That’s it, moan for me… you make the hottest sounds I’ve ever heard”.

He was right, the orgasm lasted for a little while. Jiyong was holding you firmly against him, his head tilted against yours as he whispered sweet dirty words.You stopped the motion of your hand and stayed like that, holding onto him tightly. Pressing your whole self against his perfectly sculpted body. His soft skin. His melodic speaking voice. You needed time to calm your breath and heartbeat. It was a one shot deal, you decided that you will take the best out of it for the time it lasts. Therefore, you snaked your arms around his neck, cautious not to touch his middle where his length was probably throbbing. The thought of it made you almost cum again, it certainly didn’t calm the fire that was still burning. Exhausted and feeling really brave, you’ll deal with the consequences later, your nose found the crook of his neck and you nuzzled against his watered and sun warmed skin, drops falling down on both of you from his damped and sexy hair. This intimate and loving contact was risky for your heart but his neck was so prettily offered, you couldn’t resist. It was hard not to nibble onto him. To kiss him. To taste him. To tell him that you love him.

You breathed slowly in his warmth for a moment, your body still trembling softly from the powerful orgasm you just had but mostly because of the proximity with him. The sensation of his strong arm holding your laps against his side while the other rested on the curve of your back, it was overwhelming.

“Your turn, now!” he needed his relief too, you hoped that you will be as hot for him as he was for you.

“Yes love, but can I do something first? You don’t have to say yes. I would like...”

“Don’t ask my permission, it’s our moment and I doubt that you want to do something that will harm me. Just do it”

He smirked, a fucking smirk that would have put you on your knees. A smirk that was never directed to you before. His hungry eyes were half closed but his gaze remained sharp. He was perfect. You felt his hands slide under your arms and played with the bikini top on your back.

“I want to feel you against me, may I?”

“Help yourself” you smiled, letting him play with the fabric of your top. It was so tiny, his fingers were gracing your skin and just that little contact was electrifying.

“What’s going on Ji? Is there a problem?” You teased as you joined your hands on the back of his neck, forearms on his shoulders.

“Hun, where is the tie?”

It was your turn to smirk. He frowned, scrutinizing your face. You were preparing something, it was obvious.

“Remember my bikini? The knot under my boobs is what you’re looking for”.

“Oh my god! Like a bow on a gift! Isn’t easy to pull on a string and strip your boobs naked”

“Han, han!” you purred, with a tone that implied that you didn’t mind the strip tease. You teasingly stroked his calf with your foot. “So, what are you gonna do about it? If you want to feel my chest against yours, you know what you have to do”, you said, defying him.

“Are you challenging me?” he asked as his hands found your neck. His thumb traced a line down your throat and went lower to the swell of your breast. A soft and light caress, almost too soft to be felt. He wanted to tease you too, you were way too cocky and he needed to show you how he too, could be in control.

“Who’s challenging who now? You’d like me to pinch those nipples, right? To rub them between my fingers”

He said as he brought both hands in front of your boobs as if he wanted to grab them. But he never touched you. He stayed close enough for you to feel his warmth, feel a little contact here and there throughout the thin fabric, but never touching you for real.

“I’m sure you have a sensitive breast and that you are screaming from the inside right now. You would like to be touched so badly. Am I right?”

“...” excited at the idea, you could do nothing but grasp.

“Answer me, love”

“Yes, I would love your hands on my breast” you gulped.

“Well, too bad, you set the no touching rule” he winked “But I’ll free them and you’ll soon feel me, don’t worry”. It was ‘his turn’ and yet, you felt the center of the attention. The tables had to turn.

His fingers slid down your breastbone, caressing your skin. There, he was touching you for real and it put you on fire again. He knew what he was doing, he noticed your shivers. When he found the bow, tied just under the swelling of your breasts, he had fun with the fabric before tearing the cords apart. Very slowly he pushed your bikini top to the side, his eyes on yours.

“So sensitive”

“Remember Ji, it’s no touching and no looking.”

“You’ll be the end of me, you little brat”

He wasted no more time. With one hand, he grabbed you by the hip and dragged you closer. He turned his feet to the side to move his pelvis away from you and surrendered completely to what was to follow.

“Can I guide you?” You asked timidly.

“Yes, I’ve never tried that… Go ahead, be my hand”.

It was true. He had met willing women before but never playful the way you were. You were a mixture of sexy, dominant, cute and submissive. You loved it rough too, it seemed, even though what you were doing was quite soft. A perfect match for him.

“You’ll do exactly what I tell you to do. Okay?”

“Of course”

“Good… Let’s go… are you touching yourself right now?”

He showed you his free hand, the one not holding you.

“Let’s switch hands. I want you to hold your dick with your left…”

“YAH! Why my left? It’s not the good hand” he interrupted

“Oh, I know that” you winked “Go, now. Good!”

He sulked in annoyance but was ready to follow your lead nevertheless so he had switched arms. His right one was holding you against him, on that he won’t compromise.

“Very good Ji, let’s run your thumb on the tip slowly. Is it good?”

“Don’t apply much pressure on your shaft, keep your hand loose around it. We’re taking it slow!”

“I feel so vulnerable and so powerful at the same time, it’s ecstatic… I want more, give me more”

“ Shhhhh, one thing at the time. Don’t go too hard on it ok, gentle touch. Grab the skin between your penis and balls. Squeeze gently. Use your fingertips, it’s good, I see you love it. Palm it gently while your fingers tickle your balls… good… your face is telling me that we are doing a good job” he had closed his eyes shut. His breathing increased already.

“I need more”

“You’ll have more, shut it. Don’t hold your moans back though, ok? I want to hear your pleasure. Not too loud… that’s it, in my ear”.

“Baby can I stroke myself?”

“No, you can’t! Let go of me, I’ll stay in place no worry, look I’m rubbing myself against you… Good… Put your penis between your palms and roll your hands in opposite directions. If you like when it hurts, put more pressure, roll… roll… roll…”

His face twisted in pleasure, moans slipping from his lips.

“Never done that to my dick, it feels good. Is this how you give a handjob?”

“I might do it, yes”

“mmmm, it feels so good baby… aaah”

You let him proceed and before you noticed a sign of impatience, you continued.

“Now, if you’ve never touched yourself like that, or never been touched like that, it might seem surprising. But obey, it will be good”

Curious, he opened his eyes and looked at you smirking.

“Okay…”

“Take your glands between your thumb and index and squeeze very geltly. Apply this pressure all around the circumference. Don’t brush your fingers together, it will hurt. Just put pressure. Squeeze... Are you there? Keep your fingers smooth but be firm on the grip. Press firmly.”

“It feels so good… aaah”

“Apply as much pressure as you can take. It has to be a little painful, but just a little Ji, we want it to be fun”.

The only sounds slipping from his lips were soft moans. He seemed to enjoy the touch. Maybe you surprised him. You hope you did.

“Open your eyes Ji. I want you to know that it’s with me that you are jerking off with. Keep those eyes on me”.

“Of course it’s you… you’re the only one here with me”

“I certainly hope so. Now, circle the base of your cock with your thumb and one finger, only one. Don’t put too much pressure. Are you doing it?”

“Yes…”

“Move your hips back-and-forth. Fuck your own hand slowly, gently… Good job! It’s increasing, isn't it?”

“Yes, I could cum like that”

“Then loosen your fingers, loosen it right now!”

“I fucking hate you” he was frustrated but he obeyed nevertheless.

“I know you do, I know… I’m so mean when you were so good for me” you took your sweetest voice, your innocent voice. One that he didn’t know you had.

“Keep your fingers loose and pump now, real slow. How does it feel?

“Way too good… but it’s not my hand”

“Ooooh, may I ask?”

“Yours” he said, looking straight into your eyes, waiting for your reaction. You blush, shy.

“Does my hand feel good, around your cock?” you were already back to the play.

“It feels better than mine...” he murmured.

“Amazing, now, put more pressure around your cock and go just a little faster with those hips. Fuck yourself in my hand”

He moaned, sweet sounds falling from his lips. You pressed yourself against him, your hard nipples caressing him as you both breathed in and out slowly.

“You love it, when I guide you?” you whispered in his ear.

“mmm” he moaned

“Use your words”

His eyes started to roll back, aroused. It was beautiful to witness. He was weak on his legs, holding still with a solid grip on your hip.

“I love when you guide me”.

“I can see that you do. Let go of your cock and play with your balls a bit. Squeeze them. Feel their weight”

“Jesus Christ… I was about to cum

“Oh, I know” you teased murmured in his ear. “But I’m not ready to let you just yet. Are you playing with your balls?”

“Hum, hum...I never loved to play with my own balls before today…”

“Can you use both hands? Yes? okay. Grab your cock with your fist and stroke not so gently while the other hand squeeze your balls… good, you’re doing good… Stroke again slowly but with a strong grip. Ji, slow down, I see you are cheating. Good… Twist your shaft when you come up, slowly, does it feel good?” His grin told you that he really enjoyed it.

“Yes…. ah… Y/n, you’re evilish”

His sweet sounds, his voice that you always found so soothing, was now turning you on, it lit a fire between your legs. Again.

“Faster baby, faster…. Now stop”

“What? No…I can’t stop” he continued to stroke, you could tell by the movement of his shoulder.

“No?”

“Y/n… I’m… aaaah… Argh” he could barely stay on his feet while he ejaculated in a violent burst, screaming your name out loud.

“ARE YOU GUYS OKAY”? You heard Daesung asked from the beach.

“DON’T WORRY DAE, HE WALKED ON A SHELL” you answered, your eyes on Ji.

The sight of him as he reached his orgasm was the definition of beauty and hotness. He was perfect and so was the moment. His head tilted to the side and his mouth twisted open, he was in a blissful agony.

“aaah… aaaah”

“Don’t you dare stop moving your hand, you have more juices, I’m sure of it. Feel me against you, imagine it’s my hand, mouth, core… Whatever you prefer but keep going. I want you to empty that load… Stroke yourself… continue”

One last softer moan, a great final thrill and he was done. You felt his whole body relax against yours and his face fell on your shoulder, panting. He kissed it gently as soon as his lips landed on your skin. He was breathing heavily in your ear, the most endearing melody of them all. Combined with the murmur of the waves, it couldn’t be more perfect.

You were not sure if your heart would survive this. Not sure at all that you will be okay with him, having a girlfriend later, now that you know how he sounds like when he was having sex. How he feels. How he looks. How playful he was. You don’t think that you will be able to breathe, imagining him with another woman. Making love to her… No, you don’t have the right to think like that… You were just a lost case.

You moved away from him and gave him your most reassuring smile. He cannot know what’s got into your mind right now. That suddenly, instead of letting go of him, you would do the exact contrary. You would snuggle yourself against him and stay there forever and ever, in the comfort of his arms.

“Thank you, it was… I have no words. And we didn’t even touch!”

“I know, right?”

“Will you be okay with it? At home, I mean”.

“Absolutely” you lied “You?”

“Okay, good then. Good. Me too.” He showed no signs that it could be otherwise.

Both amazed by what just happened, you walk away from each other. Reality was hitting you both and you didn’t seem to want that moment to end. Neither of you. But you had to go back to your reality now.

You wanted to fix your bikini top but he stopped you, grabbing your hand between his, keeping them against his chest.

“Let me do it, hun. With the non touching thing and in the middle of the ocean, the aftercare are limited. At least, let me put it back in place for you”.

You nodded, he continued.

“You’re okay? Are you always that rough with yourself?” he asked as you placed the triangle back in place, this you won’t let him do. You felt no judgement in his tone though, just curiosity.

“I was not rough today, Ji. I even showed you my vanilla side”.

“What we did was soft, I agree. But the way you caress yourself, and me indirectly, it was not the softest touch. I didn’t know you had that in you. It was nice, I loved it”.

“Agreed, it was really nice”.

He tied the knot back in place between your boobs. After one look to approve his doing, he declared that you were all good to get out of the tub.

“Do you regret it?”

“I don’t. You?”

“Nope”

“What happened in the water stays in the water?”

“Absolutely. Let’s forget it ever happened even though it will be rough”.

You swam towards the shore gently, side by side, as if nothing sexual ever happened.

“Do I have a mark on my shoulder”.

“Oooh, that? Oopsie” you answered cutely.

“You think you’re a shark or something? Jesus, it will hurt for days”

“I’m sorry but not sorry at the same time, it’s hard to explain” you teased.

“You little brat”

“Am I?” You shrugged “But how are you gonna hide it from Dae?”

“I won’t, I’ll say that I’ve been bitten by a fish. Even better! I’ll say that mama shark bite me”

You both laughed and you realised that he had swam behind you. Snaking his arms around your waist, he said

“Thanks Y/n, seriously. I won’t talk about it, it’s the deal. But it will be really hard to forget”

“Agreed. Thanks to you too, it wouldn’t have been that magical without you”.

Even though you didn’t really touch each other, you felt connected to him in the most beautiful and voluptuous way. A bittersweet feeling invaded you. You didn’t regret what happened but you wish you could have more of him. All of him. His love, for example.

Before you parted, the aching to be in his arms began anew.

Present day

When you opened your eyes later that morning, you were laid under his comforter. For some reason, at the end of the night you were agitated in your sleep and couldn’t rest comfortably. It gave you a weird feeling of anxiety. Was it because you were in Jiyong’s bed? In 5 years of friendship, the only time that you found yourself here was when your niece got sick. More likely, pretended to be dying from a runny nose just to be taken care of by the man of her dreams, the one and only Jiyong oppa, as she called him so cutely. Jiyong was so endearing to watch as he rubbed camphre on her back with caring hands. He was taking care of the sick little princess as if she was really dying. It was touching and cute and adorable. It’s probably then that you realised that he was the man you loved. Damn, it was already 3 years ago, how can time fly that fast?

“What makes you smile like that” his voice was sleepy and soft. So soothing and familiar that you calmed down a bit. At least, felt less out of place.

“I just remembered when the little princess slept here, between us. She used all sorts of tricks to get you to take care of her. Damn, I should learn from her, she can get what she wants just clicking her little chubby fingers. She mastered the art” you joked.

“Aaaw! She was so sweet. It was fun to take care of her with you. I felt like I was a king”

You burst out laughing.

“Duh! I couldn’t take care of her, she only wanted you. Jiyong oppa here, Jiyong oppa there”.

You turned to face him, holding your head in your hand. It seemed that he was awake for a little while, he had filled an entire notebook with lyrics, drawings and song ideas.

“You couldn’t sleep”? you asked, reaching out to pull back a strand of hair that was falling before his eyes.

“Nope, you snore too much,” he joked as he felt one finger grazing his skin. How could such a simple contact could feel so good? Because it was you, probably.

You knew he was teasing you. For some reasons, you felt the need to get closer to him. To cuddle up with him. To show him that whatever happened last night, you were there, by his side. But not knowing how he would react, you restrained yourself from doing it.

“Jiyong, can you believe that in 5 years, it’s the second time that I sleep in your bed? It’s so comfy, we should be doing it more often”

“You… you want to sleep in my bed?”

“Relax loverboy, I said it like that. I just realised that whenever I sleep here, it’s always on the couch… I didn’t mean anything. Anyway. I’ll get going, I have to work in the afternoon”.

“Already? Normally you stay a little longer. Can you stay a little longer?”

“What’s gotten into you? Last night you didn’t talk to me. This morning I want to let you have your space and you want me to stay. I’m not following, Ji”.

“Well, I really want you to stay. I need to clear up my mind. I need to…” he stopped when your body crashed against his. His hands came to rest on your back, his nose on the top of your head. You felt so good against him with your scent invading him, it was endearing. He knew your intention was to comfort him. He knew you were just worried, thinking that something bad was going on. Maybe that was it, after all. Maybe it will soon be the end of your friendship because of his stupid ass.

“I’ll stay like that for 5 minutes, then I’ll leave. I really need to get going, I have some shopping to do before my shift. If you want to talk, I’m here. Otherwise, I’ll just listen to your heartbeat and relax before the day starts. You’re so comfy, Ji.”

You snuggled closer against him. His delicate smell was so familiar and appealing at the same time. You didn’t know where to place your hands, though. Hugging was not a habit of yours. Even less hugging in bed like that. In what situation did he put himself, he wondered.

“I might have a question… Do you remember what happened in Jeju Island last year? Do you remember the kiss that we shared?”

You froze. You didn’t see it coming at all. Why asking you this after all this time? You coughed, sign that you were uncomfortable. Clearly, you knew what he was talking about. And your little cough won’t be unnoticed or misinterpreted by his sharp ass. He continued.

“Do you think about it, sometimes?”

“No, why would I?” you giggled, nervously. There was nothing funny with his question. “Sorry Ji, I didn’t mean to laugh, it’s not funny. You caught me by surprise”

“I do, think about it… From time to time, I do. Lately, I think about it even more often”

You moved away from him and laid on your back. You shouldn’t have come in his bed last night. You had crossed a line and it could be misinterpreted by him. What have you done?

“Why, though?"

“Do I need a reason to remember good memories? You know, it was not a simple peck, it was so passionate and emotional. I’ve never been kissed like that before or after. Of course, I will think about it”.

“Well, yes, I do think about it too, indeed”.

Your eyes met his. He seemed sad, desperate and shocked. Something was happening in his life and he needed to remember comforting moments, you thought. Maybe he felt that raw and pure love that you had for him, when you kissed.

“You loved it?”

“What’s that question? Ji, you’re making me feel uncomfortable. You were there, do I really have to tell you how I felt? Didn’t you feel me? See me? I have nothing to add.”

“Don’t be mad at me, please. I was just… I don’t know. But please, I beg you, don’t be mad at me today”.

“I’m not mad, I just don’t want to think about it, it won’t do any good. Listen, I have to go. I forgot that I have to give a lift to a coworker”.

“You’re running away from me” he said, grabbing your side to keep you from standing up.

“Yes. I am, I admit”.

“Please don’t leave me like that”

“Ji, I will be back, I’m not cutting ties with you. I just need to work. And when we meet again, I don’t want you to remember that kiss… or talk about it”.

“Then, what about the other thing we did, in the ocean?”

“Ji, stop. I don’t want to remember any of it….”

“Why? Do you regret what we did?” he wondered.

You tried to escape the bed but he dragged you closer to him instead. He captured you in his arms and kept you there. You still felt safe and you knew that he would let go of you the second you ask for it. Despite, you didn’t move back.

“I promise I won’t talk about any of it… But, please. Can I please hug you a little longer. I need to… I just need it”.

He was so emotionally raw that you couldn’t refuse. After all, you will never be able to escape Jiyong for good, will never have the wish to do so anyway. You relaxed in his arms and gently leaned your head on the same pillow as him. He felt all the muscles of your body relax at the same time and you melted in his arms, cute little spoon that you were. Finally, you had let go.

“I lied. Not only do I want to talk about it, I also want to do it again. I want to do it all the time” he said. But it’s your cute little snore that answered on your behalf. You had fallen asleep, in the security of his arms.

“You chose your moment to fall asleep, you little brat” he laughed.

It was a good thing that you didn’t hear it. It won’t risk your friendship for a dirty play. He couldn’t lose you, you were too important for him. He won’t let that happen. With a kiss on your head, he pressed his legs against the back of yours. Then, he abandoned himself to sleep, too.

Last year, sharing one hot kiss.

With a bunch of friends, you had rented a few condos units in Jeju Island to celebrate Jiyong’s birthday. He had a girlfriend at that time but it’s during this week-end that she had decided to break up with him, telling him that he was “too much to handle” for her liking.

What was supposed to be a fun week-end, turned out to be a blast for everybody except for Jiyong and you. How were you supposed to be happy when your best friend was crying alone outside in the dark.

“Leave me alone, Y/n. I just need some time”.

“I know, don’t worry, I only brought you a blanket, it’s frisky tonight!”

He noticed that indeed, you had laid a big comfy blanket on his shoulders. You knew better than him! He was cold and didn’t even notice. He sighed, heavy.

“See? I didn’t realise that it was cold. How can I notice that she was unhappy with me when I can’t even notice when the temperature drops”

“Ji, I know it hurts, believe me, I know…”

“Duh! As far as I know, you’ve always been the one to leave.Have you ever been dumped?”

“No, I haven’t but I know how a one side love feels like”.

“You never told me that you were in love with someone that doesn’t love you back…”

He was talking very slowly, struggling with his pronunciation. He probably won’t remember any of it tomorrow.

“I don’t tell you every single thing that happened to me. Listen, I’ll leave you alone. Text me if you need me, I’ll be here in a second”.

“Nah, stay here and share that bottle of vodka with me”.

He had caught sight of the bottle you were holding with one hand. Sitting by his side, you had handed him the precious liquid. He took a long sip, making an appreciation sound when he was done.

“Aaaah! Thanks, hun. The lost cause is happy”.

Judging by his speech and his general condition, it was far from his first consommation tonight. He was wasted. Once again, you stayed silent. You knew he was having an emotional breakdown right now, you’ve been there yourself. He was so in love with that model and he didn’t see it coming at all, of course he was broken. It was breaking your heart to see him that sad.

“You must be happy, right? You never loved her!”

“You think I’m happy when I can feel your sadness with every cell of my body?”

“You heard me”

“Jiyong, don’t go there. We’ll fight and I don’t want to fight with you”.

“Pfff. I know what you are thinking”.

“You don’t know, stop being like that”.

“Or what?”

“Or nothing. Just stop. I explained myself many times before. You know why I never loved her. But she seemed to make you happy so I was making great efforts not to get in your way”.

“Ooooh, is this why I didn’t see you the last month or so?”

“Damn, didn't you realize that I had been discreet so as not to harm your relationship with the asshole”?

“I told you, I’m too stupid to realise what’s under my nose. She is right, I didn’t take good care of her”.

“Okay, Ji, that’s enough. She was a manipulative woman, she was using you to boost her own career. You did everything to please her and yet she asked for more. I told you all that before but you didn’t believe me. Next time, trust my intuition. I’m never wrong”.

“I thought you were jealous”.

“I wasn’t jealous. I was mad because she was treating you badly and you refused to see it. But yes, you’re right too. I was jealous… I got to see you less because of her and it hurt. You didn’t even notice that I disappeared from your life, it pissed me not gonna lie”.

“Oh no! Shit. I’m gonna throw up”.

He did throw up for almost 30 minutes outside in the parking lot and even after, when he laid in bed. You couldn’t let him in that state, scared that he might vomit in his sleep and choke on it. That night, you didn’t close your eyes, looking out for him. Wiping his mouth after each puke, cleaning the floor, giving him water, meds and fresh linen for his forehead. You did it because this is how he deserves to be treated. With care and affection.

Just before going back in Seoul, as you were about to close the door of the condo that you had rented for yourself, he appeared behind you and snaked his arms around your chest, in a protective manner.

“Y/n… I want to thank you for staying by my side all this time. I know you wanted to try hitting on Jae but you couldn’t because of me. Thanks, I really appreciate it. And I’ll invite him over for you to meet again.”

“Don’t mention it, it’s alright. And turns out that Jae is a douche, so forget it”.

“What happened?”

“Well, yesterday morning, he came out of his condo with 2 girls under his arms”.

“What’s the problem? If they all consented…” you closed the door and turned towards him. He was clearly not getting the point here.

“Problem is, he didn’t invited ME”

“Ooooh…. I see”.

“No, you cannot get it. You don’t know what it is because you have never experienced it. All the girls are at your feet. You enter a room and all eyes are on you. Women want you, men want you. Elders want you as their son-in-law. You don’t know what it’s like to feel ugly, unnoticed and unwanted. I’m sorry but you…”

You couldn’t finish your phrase. He stepped towards him and held your face in his chest, whispering soft words in your ears while you cried not so cutely. You felt good, thus wrapped in the comfort of his arms.

“We were 4 women Ji. Fucking 4. He invited 2 of them to his bed, the other one is Youngbae’s girl. You know what it means? Out of the three, I was the fucking last choice. How’s that?”

“I’m sorry hun, I really am. But maybe, he didn’t invite you because you were taking care of me. YES! That must be it. He invited them 2 to replace the only one he wanted to have sex with. See? It takes 2 to replace you!”. He wanted to cheer you up and it was working.

“You’re silly” you smiled even though you knew he was wrong.

You had calmed down, so you stepped back from him. You were normally not cuddly with each other. Not that you didn’t like the contact, it was just like that. His arms didn’t feel uncomfortable but it was not fun either. The whole situation, the whole week-end was not.

As he looked into your sad eyes, he did the only thing that came into his mind. It was stupid to do but he didn’t had much time to think about it, he acted on an impulse.

“Well, now you will be able to say that you were kissed by the legendary G-Dragon”

And he had leaned in, lifting your chin up with his index.

What he wanted to be a soft peck became a surprisingly hot and feverish kiss. One that normally leads directly to bed, don’t pass go, don’t claim 200 dollars. Whose tongue was inside the other’s mouth first? He couldn’t tell. After a short moment, he had withdrawn in shock but when your finger traced the spot on your lips that he just left, he had no choice but to dive in for a second taste.

It was delicious. He melted into you like ice-cream under the warm sun and so did you. He felt like he belonged next to you, and you next to him. It seemed that your lips were drawn to fit his. That your tongue was made to dance with his. That his hands were the perfect size to circle your waist. Not only your bodies were in perfect harmony, that kiss held the sweetness of your friendship combined with a million loving thoughts. It all condensed into a moment of burning heat.

He had just felt your boobs pressed against him and your mouth against his neck, a delightful sensation, when you heard someone coming your way. Youngbae was coming out of his condo, he would soon turn the corner and discover you. Unfortunately, you had to split apart. To stop that fire that had ignited. That desire that consumed you.

“Ji, we shouldn’t have crossed that line…” you pushed him away.

“I know. Let’s forget it happened” he answered in shock, not sure about what just happened and why it was not a good idea. It was so perfect, it couldn’t be a bad thing.

“Good idea”

It seems that you were equally eager to end the conversation. Obviously, both for different reasons.

“Are you mad, Y/n?” he asked later, in the plane.

“Mad about what?”

“Duh, the kiss!”

“What kiss?” you answered, determined never to think about what had just happened.

To this day, you never said anything about it. It was almost like a faded dream. Did it ever happen?

Present day

When you had woken up after your little nap close to lunch time, you felt reposed and relaxed. Jiyong was spooning you, his arms clutching onto your waist. His warm chest rose against your back at the rhythm of his soft breathing. On your neck was the most satisfying thing that you ever felt in your life, Jiyong’s warm breath. Smiling, you softly turned around to face him, you needed to look at his perfect face. You made sure to be as quiet and gentle as possible not to wake him up. Unnoticeable like a mouse.

When you faced him, his naked legs automatically intertwined with yours. He dragged you closer to him with one strong arm and your hands landed on his chest. Snuggling your nose against his shirt, you felt butterflies dancing in your stomach, threatening to fly away with your heart on the same occasion. Was the mornings in his arms always perfect like that?

“Mmmmm hun, you feel good” It was not a question, it was a statement whispered with his lazy voice. One that leaves no place to doubt, hatred or anxiety. A voice that could heal a broken heart and guide another out of the darkest places.

He knew that it was you in his arms and still, he didn’t flinch. You felt so stupidly good that you had to stand up and leave. It was too perfect. Too intimate. Too soothing. Your heart won’t survive this. For the sake of your mental health, you had to leave now.

“I have to go Ji, I’ll be late”.

“Already? No, stay a little longer. We’re so comfy”

He hasn't opened his eyes yet, still blurred from sleep. He seemed so peaceful, it was endearing. You didn’t know what was going on with him, but one thing was certain, he hadn’t been himself since last night. He even had shown small changes in his behavior in recent weeks.

Brushing these thoughts on the side, you moved away from his arms. You’ll have plenty of time to fall in the downward spiral of sadness later, thinking that you will never be his. That he will never be yours. You escaped the peaceful cocoon you were wrapped in and went out of his bed. Out of his house. Out of your own mind.

Later that day, after your shift

As you arrived at your place, you opened your message app and started to read it. At the same time, you took your shoes off by shaking your feet one by one, over the rug in the hall. Right after your shower when you sat on the couch with a bowl of Japchae, you passed out exhausted.

Meanwhile, Jiyong was upside down. He had spent the day thinking of you, your relationship. He was affirmative, his feelings for you had changed, he was deeply in love with his best friend. There was no doubt in his mind. And he had no idea how you would react to it.

He didn’t want to lose you, but the feeling was so strong now that he accepted it, he had to confess. He needed to.

Unlike your habit, and the timing couldn’t be more paradoxical, you had left him on read all day. It happened once before but it was because you were too busy with work. Why did it have to happen on a day like today, when he was already so out of his mind. Did you feel him today? Did you realize the changes taking place in him? Was that why you ignored his calls and texts? Were you angry? Maybe you found him too clingy. Maybe he made you feel uncomfortable. He was going crazy with all these questions when he realised that it was already 2am. It was obvious that he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight. Sighting, he wore his ‘incognito costume’, meaning jogging pants, a hoodie, a face mask and a beanie. Nothing fancy, nothing to expose his identity. Hopefully, the streets will be empty at this time of the night.

He walked around his neighbourhood, wandering. He could only think of you, what your reaction could be when he’ll open his heart to you. He didn’t want to imagine the worst, he couldn’t imagine you rejecting him, his heart felt heavy with pain just at the thought of it. With the consequences that this could bring, the changes to your relationship. We should not dwell on it. He had to go heart first and confess, hoping for the best.

He realized that he was now in front of your apartment block, that he had been walking along your street for a while now, like a stalker. What if something happened bad to you? Just thinking about it made him anxious. He needed to see you, to make sure that first you were safe and warm and second that you were not mad at him. That he didn’t lose you. But why would you be mad? It was a downward spiral of thoughts. It had to stop.

He entered the building with his key, took the elevator and then ran in the hallway impatiently. He couldn’t wait to see you. To tell you. It was a strong and invalidating feeling, he had to confess. His heart had to come back to normal, otherwise he would go crazy.

Unable to wait for you to open the apartment door, he slammed it open. What he discovered inside broke him into pieces, in the best way possible. You were wearing that same old clothes he saw you so often with. That horrible kit that made him hiss in disapproval each time he saw you dressed in. There was nothing he could do to make you stop wearing it. He had tried it all. Somewhere along the way, he had let go. It was a really good thing, it allowed him to discover you curled up on the couch with untouched food on the table near you. Your hands were hidden in the sleeves of your sweater, joined under your chin. You were so cute, peacefully asleep in your comfort clothes, his heart melted.

He squatted down in front of you and with much tenderness, he caressed your face. He didn’t want to wake you up, he just needed to touch you. He was finally able to breathe.

You felt his hand on your cheek and automatically, you knew it was Jiyong. You must have been dreaming, you were at your place, alone. Humming with content, you whispered his name with a satisfied smile across your lips and turned to face the other side.

“Sleep, hun… I’ll wait tomorrow, I can wait now”.

“Ji?” you exclaimed in surprise. “What are you doing here?” you asked as you rub your eyes and opened the light that sat on the low table. When you discovered his features, you jumped off the couch and sat on the floor in front of him. “What’s going on? What happened”.

He didn’t understand what you meant, he didn’t say anything yet

“Ji, you cried! What happened?”

“I cried? ooooh, yes” patting his face he realized that he did, indeed, have semi-dried tears on his cheeks. So he cried and didn't realize it.

“Why??? What happened?” you asked in a hurry.

“Nothing happened. I just cried…”

“Something must have, you had cried and landed in my living room at 3 am” you cupped his cheeks and started a visual inspection of him. You needed to make sure that he was okay, that nothing happened to him. That he was not sick or hurt physically at least. He found you beautiful.

“I love you”

“Yes Ji, I know… love you too” you answered mindlessly as you scritized his face, concentrating on your inspection.

He grabbed your wrists and held your hands close to his heart. He had started to talk, he couldn’t stop now. He didn’t want to. With all his courage and all the hope he could gather, he repeated.

“Y/n, I love you”

“...”

“I love you”

You understood what he just said, the words he pronounced but not quite the meaning. You locked eyes with him, searching for an answer to your unspoken question. His beautiful eyes were not sparkling exactly the same way than before. He seemed agitated and peaceful at the same time, it was strange.

“Ji? What’s going on? Are you drunk?”

“Yah… Pabo! Let’s sit more comfortably, I’ll explain”.

You both transferred on the couch, sitting face to face with your knees up under your chin. You held your legs against your chest in a comforting manner. He couldn’t resist the temptation to touch you and he placed a hand flat on your forearm, amazed by your beauty as much as touched by your obvious concern.

“Y/n… Let me talk please”

It made you smile. If the situation would have not been that tensed, you would have laughed your ass out and mock him.

“I didn’t place a word Ji, I’m waiting for you to explain your interruption in my living room in the middle of the night. I think it’s fair to say that I’m letting you talk”.

“Yes, sorry” he scratched his head with shyness “what I meant was let me talk before you do. But first, why didn’t you answer my calls or texts today? I was scared something happened to you”.

“I figure, sorry Ji. I was dead busy today, couldn’t find the time to eat anything or rest. I took a shower and wanted to call you but the minute I sat on the couch, I fell asleep. I didn’t mean to make you worry”

“Fair enough… and what happened at work today? You had a good day? Did you finally decide to buy yourself a cat?”

“Ji…” you cut him. He was running around the bush and you became impatient. “Ji, tell me. What is it about?”

“I promise you that if you don’t feel the same way, I’ll be okay, I’ll manage to survive. Goodness, I’m petrified”.

While he took his sweet time to say what he had to say, an image was forming in your mind. Did he mean what you think he meant? It couldn’t be possible. Febrile, hope bloomed inside of you.

“Ji… what’s going on?”

“I love you”

The mocking gaze of your best friend was gone. Instead, in his eyes you saw a loving feeling come to life. You read in it doubt and hope. Lots of hope. In his eyes, new sparks you never thought that would shine on for you. This beautiful vision speaked louder than words.

“I realised lately that you’re the one I want to share my life with. The affection I had, it changed into love. Now, I smile like an idiot when I hear your voice. I melt when you pronounce my name. I want my hands on you all the time. I want to hug you. I want to be a better person and make you proud. I want the world a better place just for you to be more safe. I want to make you happy, just like you make me. I want to kiss you. I want to hold your hand on my way to paradise if it exists, and I want to be born with you again in our next life. Say something please…”

“That hand of mine will hold yours till the end of our life and again in the next one. I promise you that”.

It was not what he expected to hear. He was so scared that you would reject him, he never thought you would really share his feelings. He just hoped with all his heart, unsure and nervous. Therefore, he was unable to process the words you spoke.

“What?”

You didn’t repeat, instead you leaned in and kissed him, putting all your love in the kiss. The tenderness you feel for him, the passion too. You put all those intentions as your lips sealed with his. Tears went down both your cheeks and mixed together before falling on your clothes.

“You love me?” he asked between the kisses. “For real?”

He cupped your cheeks with a tenderness that you never felt before. His hands on you was now the only thing that matters.

“Ji, I love you. I love you so much… loved you for years now”.

“Woah, really?”

“Let’s not talk about it yet, we have plenty of time ahead. But yes, I love you. I thought I was so obvious”.

“Not at all, I didn’t realize. I’m sorry love, to realize that you were mine this late”.

“It’s okay Ji, I never thought that you could love me back so I'm more than happy right now. I’m in heaven”.

“Me too”

You looked at each other, smiling shyly.

“I can’t wait to bring you out on our first date. It will be so nice to hold your hand… to show everybody that you are mine, that I’m the luckiest man who got the prettiest girl”.

“Aaaaw Ji”

Your heart was so light but it was beating fast at the same time. You were happy like you were never before. You felt fully and wonderfully alive, loved and overwhelmed. Jiyong’s features told you that he felt the exact same way about you. He had that shy loving smile of his.

“Ji… Is this for real?”

“I could ask you the same”

“Love of my life…” you whispered as you kissed him a sweet and feverish kiss. You broke contact and plonged your eyes into his “you have no idea how you make me feel right now. I’ve been longing for you, for your kisses and touch all this time. I was loving you in silence and now I can finally touch you. I don’t mean sexually… Just to be able to cup your beautiful face like that and I’m in heaven” you said as you cupped his face and kissed the tip of his nose.

“I doubt the ‘not sexually’ part but I know exactly how you feel. It seems like you are too far away from me. You would be sitting on my lap and you would still be too far. I’m craving for you”

“Come” you said, standing up. You took his hand in yours and as you walked backwards, you guided him towards your bedroom. His smile grew bigger.

“Where are we going?”

“You confessed your love to me while I was wearing those clothes that you hate so much. I think it’s only fair that we take them off now… I mean, not to ruin your mood”

“You… you sure?”

“Not a bit… I’m scared that I will deceive you. I’m scared that you will not love what you see…”

“Shhhhh” he stopped you with a kiss “there is no such thing possible. You walked naked so many times before me, I already know all your curves”

“I never walked naked in front of you…”

“You do”

“Nope…”

“all the time…”

“Wanna see what naked is? Let me show you” you took your clothes off in the speed of light, exposing your naked forms in front of him. “See? Have you ever seen me naked like that before?”

He smiled a cocky smile and pushed the clothes that were on the floor with his foot. He didn’t answer your question; instead, he held out a trembling hand, the only clue of the fire roaring in him. He put it flat on the side of your neck. His touch was delicate and full of love. You felt his raw emotion in the way he was touching you, looking at you. He couldn't believe he was so lucky. That you were his and you felt the same.

“I love what I see. I love every inch of that body because it’s yours. I will love and cherish it until the day I die”

A single tear fell down off your eyes. There was no cloud under your sky and if ever you meet some along the way, you will certainly find a way to overcome it. Of that, you had no doubt.

“I love you Jiyong”

“I love you Y/n”

Without another word, he lifted you from the ground and transported you to you to your bed. With all the love he had, and all the love you had too, you started your new life together in the most beautiful way possible.

351 notes · View notes

messwriting · 3 years

Text

Written for The Smut Pile Collab: Western AU | MASTERLIST HERE.

(i'm gonna make you) feel it

a.k.a. ✨ MAKKI’S ADVENTURE TIME ✨

Hanamaki “Big Tease” Takahiro x Female Reader

Rating: E for explicit | Don’t read this if under eighteen.

Warnings: Porn With Plot. Corruption Kink. Reader’s engaged to be married - a bride. Cheating. Highly inappropriate touching and dancing moves (that’s their job tho). Alcohol. Completely unresearched strippers industry. Lowkey exhibitionism. Fucking in a public space (private room). Fingering. Oral sex. SMUT: Doggy style over a sofa. Makki’s a little shit. Overuse of the word “cute” (for real, so many times omg).

Word count: ~7.3k

Note: Saint Dymphna and poor little me would like to introduce you all to the: 🤠 LAWBREAKERS MULTIVERSE 🤠

So, @dymphnasprose basically came at me with: “what about we take cowboys and make them skskskskskssk like magic mike style strippers” and thus was born the wicked duo newest adventure. We had a lot of fun (and a lot of panic) but here it is! Anyone asks why I’m doing two once again it’s also dymph’s fault and my sheer love for Iwaizumi. Also, dymph I love u and I’ve had lots of fun doing this little group project together🥺💕

That being said I’d also like to thanks @mixedhell who once again is a mage of dialogue and helped me several times; Tay, my love @deathcab4daddy, who helped beta part of this and also @xmyshya who was kind enough to beta this too <3

Makki’s songs: Cowboy Casanova (dymph’s courtesy) + Feel it

You can also read: IWAIZUMI | MATTSUN

Hanamaki is focused.

He surveys the screaming crowd inside the packed nightclub, sees the different groups occupying the big booths, the pretty decorations that never fail to distinguish his targets inside the dimly lit room.

Makki likes the meaning behind the different outfits and colors; the details merging into the allegory of remarkability, crafting the idea of uniqueness in their special day where screams of freedom swimming inside intoxicated heads build a tendency into wildness. In building lasting memories of a singlehood that doesn’t really exist anymore, into falling prey of sexy, large men who could take them into a one-time intoxicating memory that they can savor into the end of times.

Marriages can end, Makki thinks, but memories like the ones he makes are forever.

And tonight he has already found the one.

You must be the prettiest little thing he has seen in months, all beautifully clad in a sparkling white party dress, a sexy slit that shows the classical frilly garter adorning your thigh, with a golden black banner that announces for the whole world that you’re taken, soon to be married and enjoying your bachelorette party. It’s almost a challenge, really.

Great. That’s exactly how he likes it.

A brilliant and ridiculous white cowboy hat decorated to leave a tacky gown falling from your head is perched on the table where your small group sits, about eight women dressed in black and a beautiful entourage of bridesmaids if he ever saw one, but it’s you; cute, happy little you who blushed at the very first look at his partially naked torso when all Hanamaki did was pass by your table in his low cut jeans and open flannel shirt, a tilt of his cowboy hat made with half a mind to compliment the ladies until his eyes laid on you.

Your bright eyes had shined with embarrassment at your interest, chest filling with a renewed pull of air at the mere sight of him, a burning in your face that he could notice even in the poorly lit room, flashing lights giving him just the best of peeks -- your plush lips punished by the row of white teeth that closed around the soft muscle and pulled.

That was all he needed, the smallest of sights and still, the biggest of hints.

You were going to be his tonight. He’ll taint that pristine white and you’ll beg for his every move, he knows it just as he knows the women will scream for him as soon as he steps on the stage.

And, in fact, that will be sooner rather than later.

He’ll make sure of it.

The loud music is pulsing through his body, like waves crashing against his skin, his heart seemingly beating alongside the bass in deep, sexy strokes of the R&B music echoing through the club. The youngsters are doing their dance, a coordinated thing between the six newbies of the Club, while Makki and Mattsun wait by the side of the backdoor of the stage, ready to take their places in the next performance.

“Anyone in your sights yet?” Issei asks him as he passes him the bottle of water, which Takahiro puts on top of one of the structures before sending a small grin at the dark-haired man. They’ve been here for four years now, and they have joined the place together, looking to make a good buck while going to College. Stripping is fun, easy, and profitable when you’re young and hot and Matsukawa and Hanamaki are nothing else but.

“The one by the left, the table with the tacky cowboy hat and the golden balloons.”

“A fan of the work, I see.” Matsukawa pulls the curtain to the side just an inch, his eyes quickly surveying the space and centering on the acquired target. Makki knows exactly what he’s seeing, a table filled with a group of beautiful women and you in white shining over them all, the balloons above the wall seeming way more ridiculous once he knows about Makki’s plan of action.

One dick for life. Ha.

“Poor little thing doesn’t know what she’s in for tonight.” Mattsun’s grin is mischievous and all-knowing. Hanamaki has a type, it’s a running joke, but every good joke starts from a glimmer of truth. And in Makki’s case, it may as well be the truth itself.

“And that’s a sexy little group.”

“Yeah, it is. But you already have plans for tonight, don’t you. I’ve heard about it from Oikawa.”

Mattsun doesn’t answer, only a chuckle and a lopsided grin marking his face as he keeps studying the crowd.

The group performance wraps up quickly, being one without public interaction and soon enough Oikawa is making a show, threading between the public with his mic, hyping the crew out with just the right few words.

The lights start going down, softly casting the audience in shadows while the stage is tinged in bright colors before becoming red and by the time people’s eyes are focusing at the center again, Hanamaki and Matsukawa have taken their places.

The music starts to play, soft and calm, pulsing through the bodies of everyone as their eyes focus on the attractive duo in center stage. They’re not supposed to end up naked yet, that’s saved for the end, but as the choreography flows, sharp hip movements, thrusting motions like ocean waves crashing on rocky shores, still get women screaming at the top of their lungs enough for it all to merge with the song as if it’s part of the original bass.

Makki’s wearing a half-opened plaid flannel shirt with nothing under it, and he pops every remaining button open along to the song, the screams getting louder. His jeans are tight enough that every plane of muscle is noticeable, and his belt is black and striking, with a big, bull-shaped buckle. Later he’ll change his outfit to leather chaps and a vest, but right now, he’s more laid back. He looks good, he knows it, but the appreciation in your eyes as you coily drink his from from across the room is like a fucking golden star on his pride.

On top of his head, locked tight, it’s his pinched front cowboy hat. As Makki throws it in the air and catches in the middle of dancing, the screams engulf him from all sides.

But everything else is fading to the back of his mind as his eyes find yours in the dark, the appreciative, enthralled shine in them not lost to Makki. Could never be lost to Makki, who holds onto it as if it’s a life-line; You’re interested.

Ok, that’s good. But it’s also the basics.

Makki twirls and fall on the floor, hips fucking into nothing as the crowd goes insane. He kneels on stage, his shirt flying to the spectators; two women take hold of it, pulling in contrary directions until it rips.

Makki throws you a wink, every woman in that direction claiming it as theirs. You, however, shrug into yourself, eyes looking away as your hands tight their hold around the champagne glass they’re holding. You’re so cute, hands in front of your face as if that would keep you from staring. Makki feels himself glowing, growing excited at the mere sight of your scurrying eyes as they choose the floor instead of his body.

So fucking pure.

Takahiro wants to force you to look up and revel in the guilty desire he’s bound to find there. There’s no need to avoid him if he doesn’t charm you, that’s the beauty of soon-to-be brides. There’s such a deep will inside them to be faithful to the allegory of a husband they do not have yet, lost in a daydream of happiness in finding the one when they haven’t even tasted anything but. Makki eyes the golden balloons floating around the table while he dances -- one dick forever.

Poor little thing. He can’t let that happen, can he?

When Makki hops off the stage and walks over to your table between deafening screamings and pleads for him to take them, instead, his hand closes around your dainty little one, adorned with pretty french nails and just a single golden ring and even the soft, smooth skin of your hand against his rugged palm is a thrill inside his veins.

Your eyes are shining, nervousness sweeping from them as they lock with his. Hanamaki tries to be lowkey, giving you a reassuring smile supposed to be nice, to be trusting -- a complete disconnect of the way his guts stirs in the excitement of your touch.

He lowers his lips to your ears, pretends the way his nose runs over the shell is a mere accident. “Let’s go for a ride, sweetheart.”

Your lips fall open by the side of his face and Makki can feel the way you suck a breath, a little gasp ruining your efforts when he lets his lips brush against your jaw. Another accident, whoops. He’s such a careless boy, isn’t he?

Your teeth punish your bottom lip as your eyes seem to look anywhere but him, trembling hands as you seem half-way into telling him no. Makki can't have that, though. He brings his face to look deep in your eyes, a lopsided smile he can manoeuvre into being just the right amount of kind by now.

"You're not gonna let me go up there alone, will you?" He almost pouts, big hands finding their way on your arms in up and down motions that drag just the right amount of trembles from you for him to know he's winning. "There's no fun without you, sweet girl."

He dips his lips onto the shell of your ear once again, just in time to hide his mischief. "You're the star of the show. I'm just your ride."

That seems to make you giggle and Makki uses that to bring his grin into your view, palms sliding down your arms to clasp your hands and - finally - guide you up with him.

One thing Makki knows is that he likes his brides sweet.

Pliant.

And as you get up and follow him quietly and sheepish, clumsy tripping over yourself when some of your bridesmaids erupt in cheers, he knows he is right once again -- you’re just his type.

Thing is, Makki doesn’t waste time. He makes you twirl in your high heels just to have you falling in his arms, he picks you up without effort, a little gasp breaching your lips as your hands plant against his chest.

Makki just has to grin at the way in which you close your palms and retreat them back to yourself, quick, burning up in a beautiful, delicious expression of shame. Fuck, he wants to make you beg.

When he’s at the stage, he drops you on your feet with enough aggression to get you to slide straight to the floor, unsteady knees opening under you until your ass is planted on the stage.

Makki thinks your open mouthed expression, little breaths breaking through your lips as your anxious eyes stare up at him, have to be the best thing he’s seen in a while. And he’s just starting.

He bends at the waist, his hands to reach your knees and push them open, your bright little white dress sliding up so much he can steal a peek at your fancy underwear.

Such a vixen, aren’t you? All wrapped in lace.

Makki lets himself fall on top of you and you gasp, even as he stays holding himself in a plank, not one bit of skin touching yours. The song is pumping, slow and sexy even if the screams sound louder in the close space. He twists his hips, the rolling motion has them right between your juicy thighs. You’re forced to keep them wide open and the way in which you look mortified just may be what ends him.

Makki drops his knees in the ground, lets the screams wash over him as he drags his hips against your center, soft, then hard. His hands by the side of your head, his toned chest right in front of your face. He knows by the way his skin burns that you’re staring at him -- good, he wants to be the center of all your attention tonight.

Your hands are in front of yourself as if you’re afraid at your own excitement, eager eyes looking for his in a wirlwind of emotions and it makes his fucking skin erupt with goosebumps that the most noticiable one is desire.

Oh, Makki’s going to wreck you. The song turns frantic just as he comes to slide over your body, nose trailing along your collarbone and chest, teeth nipping at your clothes as if he would prefer to be doing it to your skin instead, and he feels the way your shame almost consumes you, body shaking as he finally reaches destination: right above your beautiful open thighs, so close he can almost taste you.

Unfortunately, it doesn't last. And Makki is forced by the choreography to climb back up your body even as he lets his hands linger a bit too close to your clothed center, every woman around screaming as if they can read his mind.

He gets back up and kneels between your open legs, thrusting in time with the music as if he’s actually still thinking about choreography and not in doing this to you later. You’re growing more embarrassed by the moment, your whole body burning and tense, but responsive to his movements and, better yet, his smiles.

His body is used to the motions, to swirling and grinding and thrusting in a wave motion, crashing over your hips time and time again until your lips fall open, and he knows he hit the jackpot.

Makki holds himself in a plank again, his skin turning clammy with the exertion, but he angles his crotch just right and has you singing a groan for him again -- then turning bright with shame in sequence.

Such a precious little thing indeed.

The ground choreo ends way too soon for Makki’s wishes, but he’s soothed by the way in which you let yourself be picked up, hands clinging to his shoulders with such a fierce hold he almost wants to test it out. He throws you up for a moment, relishes in your nails at his back, and his forearms hold you by the underside of your knee, closing on your hips.

And that makes your pretty little clothed cunt roll right against his semi-hard on. There’s a ripping sound, probably your slit getting wider to acomodate your open legs and thus, him.

Lovely.

Makki rolls his hips, right against your center once, and the crowd erupts in screams just as he starts mimicking fucking you standing. A beautiful option he saves in the back of his mind for later.

You let out a yelp, then proceed to try and hide your head against his neck, your pretty mouth gliding against his skin gives him such a high he almost loses the tempo of the song. He tells you to hold on and plants his hands on your bare ass, lifting you until he can have you in front of his face, a bit uncomfortable move but one that has every single woman in the club wet -- it’s in the air by now, and he can smell it. The idea makes his skin prickle, your hands holding his hair for dear life as if you’re afraid to fall, but your clothed cunt is right there, and he can’t pass the opportunity to steal a little touch as he pretends your hold is what pushes his head flush against your pussy.

You let out a beautiful sound almost in time with the song, and he is letting you fall once again on his arms, the smile on his lips the last nail on your pure coffin.

And unfortunately that means time’s up.

Makki lets your legs fall but holds you by your waist, depositing you on your own two feet at the stage and snickering at how your legs falter to hold you up on the high heels. So, as a gentleman, he takes your hand in his, helps you down the few steps on the stage, almost groans at how your hand seems to not want to let him go.

Before he leaves you, he pulls your hand into his lips, absolutely glowing at how breathless you look from the little action after he literally ravished you on stage. It physically pains him that he needs to pick up another bride into his show.

“See you later, pretty one.”

Under you, your legs are faltering, knees trembling like a newborn deer as you’re left alone to fend for yourself in the long path back to your table. Women congratulate you, screaming on your sides at the men who was almost fucking you dumb on stage and his friend, as they continue their show.

Your heart is beating in your ears, leaving you stupid and lost as you’re finally - finally - rescued by your friend, who brings you back to the table with loud congratulations and happy cheers. You feel your body sweating and throbbing, weirdly pulsating for something you can’t name.

Recognizing it would make it real and you cannot believe that after five years in a nice relationship with your only boyfriend and soon-to-be-husband, this is the first time you feel this wet.

You plop down on the closest seat, hands pressing to your chest as you try to both fan yourself and hide behind them. It proves, as expected, a hard task.

Your childhood friend has arrived and you hug her sideways, the short conversation you two exchange somehow lost to your poor heated brain as your eyes keep sliding to center once again at the stage.

The way he dances on stage feels overwhelming, this bride-to-be suffering way less touching and grinding than you, as “Big Tease Makki” stays standing up, his hands groping everywhere in his sculpted body as he dances to the sensual song, including the considerable bulge in his pants.

Something flashes and he turns his head your way so sharply you feel the need to melt further on the sofa, poorly hiding away as everyone around you cheers once again.

His eyes on you were burning a hot trail that slithers over your warm skin even in the dark, the ghost of a feeling of touch, erupting goosebumps along their way as they circle your neck and dip down your side, strutting over your chest to end by your face. Even in the distance, you swear you can feel the way those lips slip into an easy grin, satisfied at the way they have you breathless and weak by thought alone.

The idle chatting of your friends, excited and drunk are dulled by the pounding of your heart inside your chest, and you feel constricted by their presence on your sides at the booth, both ways filled with testimony to your inner turmoils-- can they see your sinful thoughts while they stay that close to you? Can the pounding of your heart and the heat in your face be felt at such a short distance?

The mere idea that they can pry inside your skull and discover the sinful dreams unfolding is too much for you right now, your spine shooting up while you balance yourself in your pretty heels and ask in a meek, nervous voice for the girls to let you pass. Some ask if you need help or if you’re going to the bathroom, and in both options it feels like you’re going to be flanked immediately, so you deny it and say you have to make a quick phone call about something you forgot to confirm and they all nod away, drunkenly squealing for you to be quick.

You’re almost free when one of your bridesmaids, your childhood friend, looks up at you with puzzled eyes.

“Hey, everything's okay?” She’s not drunk, only happily buzzed with sparkling wine, but her eyes are attentive when they lay on your face, worry etched in her brow as she looks for hints hidden in your dolled up face.

“Yeah, just need to take a breather.” You give her what you hope is a reassuring smile even as sweat drips down your back, but the place is dark and loud and she lets you go without much prodding. The place is full and swarming with women, groups of men present but fewer, waiters clad in skimpy clothing as they work the tables full of drinks, shots and champagne. Some are flirtatious, charming smiles along with muscles as they sweep women off their feet and leave their wallets thinner; others are pretty serious, and the mysterious aura has their pull, the ecstasy of conquest working as an aphrodisiac.

You pull past the bodies, feeling a bit light headed as your chest pounds and the booze traverse your body, clumsy steps on too-high-heels you’re not used to, but your bridesmaids had pushed you to wear along with screams to live a little and say hello to the last night before you’re a proper married lady. You’ve never really felt the weight of those words as the last two days, tasting for the first time the sweetness of night as you’ve never before.

If brown, bored eyes make a appearance in your mind as you flee to the corridor leading to the private rooms and women’s bathroom, you’re quick to stop the train of thought before it leads down a muscular torso clad in a tight jeans with a firm ass and a hot, big cock that humped against you in every opportunity while he took you to the stage.

A drop makes it way past your cunt lips to stain your fancy underwear and you groan, ashamed. You’ve never felt this unbecoming need before, the arousal so thick your breasts seem to be heavy against your ribcage, dress feeling too tight on your heated, oversensitive skin.

You’re reaching the curve left that will take you to the bathroom when big hands engulf your frame, palm over your mouth and you’re pulled inside one of the private rooms, too breathless to even make a sound.

“Howdy,” his voice sounds right by your ear, as you’re caged against a burly body and the closed, probably sound-proof door. “Got a fugitive here.”

“Uhh, sir, I--”

“Sir?” He laughs, head thrown back prettily as you drink the arch of his throat. “Oh my god, call me Makki, pretty one.”

The petname makes you flush, tongue heavy and clumsy in your mouth around words. “Uh… Makki, I’m sorry but I, ah…” You fumble with your hands, avoiding touching him, eyes downcast as you try to also avoid even looking at him. It’s too much, he seems everywhere.

“You’re engaged? I can see that, love. You have a banner right there.” He sounds so nice, mischief and boyish glee as he stands way too close to you.

“Then you understand…”

“I understand this is your last night of freedom, right? The last chance for you to be bad,” He breathes against your jaw as he noses along your skin to your ear, his cowboy hat gliding softly against the side of your face, “To be wild.”

Your mouth opens and closes but not a single sound comes out, your brain completely lost to the science of mixing letters into words. All you can think about is how your blood seems to be galloping in your veins, the pounding of your heart so oppressingly loud the beat of the song seems to mimic it and not the contrary.

You are lost to everything but the unbelievable feeling of painful arousal, so sharp and deep your bones seem to be melting out of their places and dripping into the outside by your cunt.

“But,” Leaves your lips dumbly and Makki’s fingers silence you, his lips so close you can taste his every exhale, the flap of his hat managing to blind your vision to anything past his face.

“You’re going to be married to the exact same man forever, sweetheart. You can let go one night. One night for you to feel good.” Makki licks at your throat and your lips fall open with a shameless moan as you burn with shame. “Has he ever made you feel this hot, sweetie? Hm? Have you ever even felt like this? It’s your last chance tonight, right? Don’t lose it.”

Makki’s hands massage their way down your sides, grabbing at the flesh of your hips, brushing your ass, and you’re dead silent as you drool away in your panties. Unable to think, unable to speak, embarrassment clogging your throat together with an impossible, unacceptable yes.

“C’mon, sweetie, let me take care of you.” It’s a plea, and he knows your chest will hurt with the same need that is in his tone. “Just this one time, so you can know what it feels like… how great it can be.”

“One time.” He promises you, earnest eyes boring into yours and, dumbly, enchanted, you nod… and agree.

Well, Makki ain’t waiting around for you to change your mind.

His hands loop around your thighs immediately, pressing you against the door until he can press his body between your open legs. The slit of your dress gives in just the little bit needed to allow his hips to make their way against your core, his lips busying themselves with planting kisses along the arch of your neck, teeth nibbling at the lobe of your ear, tongue gliding over the shell.

His breathing is soft, but so close it feels like it engulfs the room, slithering inside your head and scrambling your thoughts. His crotch presses against your center enough to hold you high and open, one of his hands relieved of their place as it climbs your side and closes around your jaw, angling your head back until you’re trapped between his face and his chest.

You shudder, eyes fluttering closed as if you cannot hold them open, and Makki feels his skin prickling, warmth spreading from his limbs to his chest and down his hips to center themselves at his burning length. You’re such a little vixen, all big eyes and open mouthed staring at him while he has hardly done anything.

He can barely wait to see how you’ll burn when he buries his face in your pussy.

Right now, though, Makki reigns in his excitement, fingers caressing your cheeks until your pretty eyes open up again, dazed. There’s just something about getting pretty little things like you to yield, to breathe out as his lips plant themselves carefully, softly, against your cheek, then the line of your jaw, your chin and your nose.

Every little kiss has you getting restless, trembling in his arms while your hands close around his shoulders, painful little welts that he loves to see. Such desperation.

It’s really the best.

His lips press against the corner of your wobbling plush lips and you shudder, but they push it back, and when Makki finally decides to kiss you, you’re opening your mouth in your eagerness, tongue lapping awkwardly at his lips as he chuckles and decides it’s time to stop playing.

When he kisses you then, you gasp, precious little sound leaving you as if you had no idea you could even make it, and then you’re melting against him, pressing against his chest as his mouth works its wonders on yours, tongue circling, searching, sucking. He nips at your lips, steals all the short bits of breath from your lungs until you’re writing against him, pressing sinful hips against his crotch in such a desperate way it’s endearing.

The hand on your thigh dips further under your dress, finds the plush meat of your ass and engulf it in its palm, delighted at how inexistent is the small little thing you’re wearing and how fucking delicious it feels. His fingers dig into your bottom until you break the kiss to gasp at how easily he can slip his long indicator from your ass to your pussy.

It’s his time to lose his air at how fucking wet you are, ruined fancy panties and moist thighs.

“Oh god, look at that. Little bride is so wet for this cowboy.”

You make a face, lips pursing in an awkward turn and coily shifting to look down, appraising looks on his chiseled chest. “Okay this one was bad!” Makki offers with an easy smile, the hand on your neck dipping into your breasts, palms pressing on your chest as he turns his focus on circling the hard nipple through your clothes, closing around the plush meat until your offending honest little lips part once again to him. He can see in the turbilion of your eyes how you’re still swirling against guilt, holding back from him.

“But can you blame me? Look at me.” He makes a mention with his head towards the big bulge straining his tight jeans, which have you unconsciously looking down, his hand sliding over your jaw to tilt your head up to meet his eyes, charming, easy-going smile in his lips. “Look at you.”

He rolls his hips once against your sex, feels the blistering heat even through layers of clothes but he’s done this enough to know exactly where to aim, having a moan escaping through the tight cage of your lips before you can hold everything else in by the lock of your teeth.

He can’t have that, though. He thrives on applause after all.

“Now, beautiful, I’ll need you to stop that right there.” His fingers dip under you to slide against the soiled fabric clinging to your folds and you all but tense, melting after as if you cannot conceive how good is his mere touch. “I want to hear you, c’mon.” Your eyes drop on his in hurt, but you free your bottom lip, mouth imediatelly falling open around a groan as Makki presses aimless around the entrance of your sex. Damn, Makki likes this.

“Yes, like that. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” His cock is straining against his boxers already, length rolling in perfect aimed strokes over the apex of your sex as his fingers thread on the outline of your beautiful cunt and when he dips inside a single fingertip, your sex and hands cling to him, all the beautiful curves of your body against his and he just-- He wants to see.

“Ok, dinner time!” Makki chuckles as he brings his hands once again to hold you firmly by your thighs, fingers spread enough to keep rolling against the edges of your cunt.

“Wha-What?” You give a charming yelp at the way he holds you effortlessly while abandoning the door to walk over to the couch. It’s just a cheap upholstered thing in front of the circular stage with the pole hanging from the ceiling, but it’s just the perfect length for what he needs.

He lets you fall, open and disheveled over it, legs spread to show the lace he saw earlier, stained and soiled after just a bit of makeout.

“You’re so cute.” It’s mockingly, really; meant to be a jab at how you’re so hazed and undone by just a few moves of his, but the way in which your doe eyes thread up to him, shiny and unfocussed; your hands closing around your frame as a hand plants in front of your breasts is just… cute. There’s no other word. You’re just a cute little thing and he wants your demise.

Makki groans and pulls you to the edge of the sofa by your legs, easily dropping between your thighs in a wave move, face planting itself on your breasts to suck at sweaty clothes, teeth pulling the fabric down until your nipples peek through and he sucks them inside his mouth, too.

You tremble so easily, even worse when he abandons it to nose his way down your body tightly clad in the white dress, kisses over your belly until he’s nosing at your clothed cunt, open mouth kisses adding to the moistness in your poor underwear.

“Delicious.” Makki says for no reason other than to state his thoughts, tongue rolling over the clothed slit as if its skin, reveling in how your poor legs start to shake, needing the aid from his hands spreading them to finally stop. “Tell me, honey, have your fiancé ever fucked you good? Hm?”

The mention makes you stiff, head pressing to the side of the sofa as if you’re fighting a battle inside your own mind, triggered by the piece of trivia question.

“I bet he hasn’t,” Makki laughs, nosing at your pussy with such pressure his whole face gets smeared in your juices. “Is he your first boyfriend? Tell me more.”

“I--how do you--” You stutter through bitten lips, truth tipping out once he easily spreads you open with his thumbs on each side. “Yes.”

“What a waste, such a wet fucking pussy and not one single effort from your hubby to-” Makki pulls your underwear aside, tongue lolling out to lick a long strip from your entrance to your clit, “lick”, once, it”, twice, “clean.” and thrice.

You let out a cute little noise and he gets impatient, pulling the lace at the side with enough force it rips easily under his hand. Your indignant noise doesn’t even sound right, lost in a moan at the way he closes his lips around your clit and brings his tongue to play with it fast. His hand presses harder on the skin of your thighs, leaving you open as a present, ripe and wide.

If Makki says he eats pussy as a fucking meal, it’s not out of vanity. He doesn’t like to stroke his own ego, it’s just the plain truth. He works his tongue around your cunt, licks at your puffy lips, slither his way over the labia, gathers all the dripping …. and lets it drip over your pussy, just to suck it up and spit on it, after all he never understood the whole don’t spit on the plate you eat. If it’s pussy, he’s sure it’s the fucking other way around.

You’re writhing and moving around, a symphony of gasps and moans fighting their way past your tight lips. Makki doesn’t mind. As he brings his thumbs to stroke up and down the sides of your cunt, he knows you’ll be screaming in no time. It’s just too much. It’s clear you’ve never had anything like this just by the frantic way you’re humping his face, hands grabbing at anything and everything they can, unable to hold on. His only shame is how busy his mouth is, unable to tease his way into the pure debauchery you’re demonstrating.

He pauses a bit to angle himself back, eyes trained at your pussy, dripping fucking wet all over the dress and the sofa. His thumbs spread at the sides of your entrance, pull it open just to see it blink and gap, begging for his cock without a word leaving your lips. Shit. His cock is straining against the tight jeans in such a painful way he has to let one hand go, open his button and fly, let the poor warrior fight its way past the band of his calvin kleins.

Then he’s back at his work, one thumb keeping you open as his hand returns to plunge his indicator inside slowly. Makki’s mouth almost falls open at the bewitching way your walls give in, letting him sink inside the velvety wet inside with ease. You’re clenching around him, groaning above and begging below, so he lets a second one inside at the retreat and advance of his wrist.

“Have your little husband ever made you feel like this, huh? Have he eaten this little pussy so good you make a mess?”

“Jesus Christ!” You moan above and Makki laughs. He loves this. Loves the little religious bout he gets from tight little brides when they actually taste heaven amidst sin. You try to ride his fingers, but he presses the back of your knees higher, and you let out a breathless “God!” at the new angle.

Then he starts the real game, fingers moving around your heat in search of a specific spot he finds with little prodding and then abuses until you’re begging.

“Oh my god! I, fuck--Jesus!”

“Yes, just like that sweetheart. If you beg for me real pretty I’ll give you what you want.” He says as his fingers keep plunging in and out of your heat in an upwards motion, strong but slow, dragging the feeling of his thick digits inside your walls. It’s close, he can feel it in the way you’re swelling around him, restless kicking out legs and praying for God as if it isn’t Makki who’s giving you all this.

“My name, sweetie. Beg for it, c’mon. Say it out very loud, how you want my cock to fuck you nice and hard as you’ve never had before, huh? Just--”

“Fuck!”

“Just tell me more how you had no idea it could be so good and how you need me to show you how fucking good a man can actually fuck.”

“Oh my god,” you all but yelp, but then sighs a, “yes, please.”

“Hmmm? Couldn’t hear you.”

“Oh fuck, Makki please fuck me!” There’s a breathless, outstandly maniac laugh breaching your lips after that, a flow of quick words falling from your lips as a train of thought, “Jesus I’ve never felt like this, oh my god I think I’ll actually die without--”

“There we go!” Makki laughs, voice loud as he stops everything to get up and once again bends down to pick you up.

“Wha--Wait!” You squeak, body tense and trembling at the loss as Makki only kisses around your tearstained face and makes his way around the upholstered couch. “Makki!” That has to be the needier, whinier tone he has ever heard his name in.

And he loves it.

He lets you slide through his hands, bends you over the back of the couch, your ripped panties sliding to the floor by one of your legs. One of Makki’s hands descends hard on your ass with a loud slap, your lips opening around a beautiful moan. The other does the same, both circling and massing the plump flesh as your ass and pussy blinks seductively at him.

That does it. Makki curses as he pulls his pants and underwear down, his hard, bloody-red cock slapping up against his navel; he closes his hand around it to slap it between the crack of your pretty behind and feels everything in him tingling at how wanton you sound in your moan, angling your back so that your ass can climb higher, head against the seat cushions.

“Yes, baby, just like that.” Makki praises you as he tilts his cockhead on your slit, up and down, up and down against your clit, labia and entrance. It’s absolutely delicious how you clench to try and hold his cockhead, but it slips up to bob against your ass. “Ops, let’s try again.”

He does the same thing a second time but then you groan and whine once again, “Makki, please!”

Well, fuck, who’s he to deny you, right?

He pats your ass and supports his weight at the back of his feet, cockhead right against the beautiful hole weeping for him and, carefully, slowly, deliciously starts dipping inside. Your pussy sucks him in as a vice, muscle clenching and releasing; loud, satisfacted moans in your lips. It’s almost choking to him that the loud noise in the room comes from him, too, mouth falling open in a growl.

When his hips are nested against your ass, Makki has the urge to kiss you but squatches it down in favor of holding you strongly and fucking you throughly. Motioning himself in waves as he had on the stage, his cock slides in and out of you with such delicious, timed precision he thinks you’ll come twice on him before he’s done.

Your tight heat is velvety wet around him, squelching sounds sinful in the room as he grinds his hips against your ass, cockhead nestled against the firm pressure of your cervix. There’s babbles tipping from your lips, as if your mind has broken and you have to pronounce your mess of thoughts out loud. It’s cute.

Maybe he'd appreciate it more if his mind wasn't falling him also; his whole body feels constricted, strained, hips rolling in long, deep, strong strokes that make his cock into a pleasure antena, broadcasting to his whole being, blistering heat spreading through his veins and turning sharp at his spine and to start pooling at his balls.

He is about to dip his hand to your clit and end you when your body seizes, legs kicking while dangling from the backrest of the couch and your pussy starts creaming hard like a vice around his cock.

“Fuck!” He groans, tensing his whole body before you bring him over with you, hand slithering to hold the base of his cock, hard. Then he laughs, no breath to spare. “Wow, baby, no heads up? Now you gonna have to give me one more, I’m not done with you yet.”

You let out an indignant groan, but rest boneless under him. Makki retreats his hips from your snug grip and starts pistoning his way inside your heat, unforgiving even as you yelp and whine, oversensitivity probably making you burn. Makki lets one of his hands let go of your hips and fall hard on your ass, in time to feel the way your pussy grips at him, yelp turning into a moan. Makki lets his hands slide down the side and curve his wrist so your fingers can find your clit, rubbing him frantically as he angles his hips just right, every wave of his body aimed against your precious spot.

“Yup,” Makki groans, growing exhausted. “Just like this.”

Your eyes snap open, hands frantically reaching to hold on anything by them as you look back at Makki with shiny, big, dazed eyes in absolute terror at the fact you are, indeed, going to keep cumming on his dick, second orgasm hitting you so hard and fast Makki actually tips over with you, the pressure in his balls releasing in one blissful climax at the incessant contracting of your cunt and the wave of your orgasm gushing out of your pussy in the closest thing to a squirt he could pull out of you amidst a unending orgasm.

Makki stays inside you as he rides his high, grinding his hips even as you cry from the oversensitivity. When he pulls out, he’s careful with the condom and also has half a mind to hold your body, throwing the used thing somewhere to be cleaned after. Almost as if perceiving the breach, his cellphone starts ringing somewhere, loud as fuck in the closed room.

“Damn, fuck,” Makki scrambles to the sound, his legs almost giving out under him and his fingers so numb it takes three tries to actually accept the call. Which he didn’t read who from.

“MAKKI! WHERE ARE YOU, WE’RE STARTING IN FIVE.” Iwaizumi nags at him, stern and loud, piercing through his haze enough to make his brain drop some adrenaline into his bloodstream, suddenly alert and kicking, muscles straining but holding as he pulls his underwear and jeans quick over his ass and searches for his cowboy hat in time to dip and run to the presentation.

“Sorry baby, gotta go.” He saunters to you, plants a kiss on your sweaty head and another at your swollen lips and smiles the same sinful smile that ended up bringing you here, along with a tilt of his cowboy hat. “Duty calls.”

#hanamaki x reader #hanamaki smut #hanamaki takahiro smut #haikyuu smut #thesmutpilecollab

352 notes · View notes