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#tw: praise kink
clandestineloki · 10 months
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the queen of hearts (NSFW)
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mafia!loki x reader x mafia!bucky
tw: threesome, cuckolding, light bondage, corruption kink, innocence kink, praise kink, slight humiliation kink but it's very sweet i promise, unprotected sex
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he’s always loved seeing you so nervous.
loki watches as you waddle around to the bar counter, lips parting and closing again in hesitation.
goodness, you pure little soul. he can see your dainty little hand tapping at your side as you ask for two glasses of Bourbon Old Fashioned, stuttering out a please and thank you like a good girl, and norns if you aren’t just the cutest when you’re shy.
as if you haven’t done much more depraved favors for him than just fetching some drinks.
and not only is that trait the one thing loki loves most about you; it’s also the most obvious. you can never hide anything from him— not that you do that often, but it doesn’t take him much… persuading to get you to admit what’s on your mind— the flush of your cheeks and chest and the way your eyes dart away and the way you hide your face in the side of your hair is unmistakable.
especially tonight, when he invited you to come with him to the casino for a few hours of poker between him and the second-in-command of the howlers— bucky barnes.
normally loki’s quite possessive, hiding you away from any men that even breathe differently near you, in fear that they might kidnap you or take you away from him.
but he trusts bucky and knows him quite well— from the very wine he fancies to the two secret hideout flats he has in case something happens (aka, where to find him if he even dares to try anything).
more importantly, he relishes in the flustered look on your face when bucky talks to you.
and he finds it adorable how you're nothing but a flushing, timid mess around barnes.
it’s no secret you see bucky as much more than just your lover’s illegal business partner. (loki knows that shyness all too well, from when he first took you to a dinner date at the rooftop of a first-class hotel and asked to be your official boyfriend, from when he gave you a beautiful diamond necklace to wear at a party with him, from when he kneels between your spread legs, lifting up your dress to reveal the dripping wet, clenching little cunt he loves to spoil so much.)
it was undeniably cute how you clung to loki when the three of you first met at the lobby, and even more adorable when barnes complimented your little blue dress and you mumbled a thank you, tucking your face into loki’s shoulder.
he merely chuckled, softly patting your head as he sent a knowing look to barnes.
“i’m back!”
loki looks up to see you place down the glasses.
the corner of his mouth quirks, and he reaches for your hand and presses it to his lips, mumbling a thank you, angel as he watches in amusement as you react so cutely, eyes widening and face burning red.
bucky clears his throat and raises his eyebrow from the other side of the table. “loki. your move."
loki snickers, letting go of your hand as he side-eyes bucky. “don't rush me, barnes. you'll get your turn soon."
both of them know he's not just talking about poker.
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“you fucking bastard.” bucky grins, laughing breathlessly.
loki chuckles, raises his hands as the dealer sweeps the chips to his side of the table.
“one time. one time you let me win is all I ask," bucky takes another swig of his drink.
“sorry, i have to put on a show. can't let my darling here think i'm a loser.”
you perk up from leaning on loki's shoulder, half-asleep.
“hmm?" you mumble, sitting up. "more drinks?”
loki chuckles, placing a hand on your knee and another on your head to lean you back against him. “no, no, we're alright, thanks, love.”
“y’know,” bucky quips, tapping a finger on the table. “this’s getting a little boring. you and i both have a lot of money and betting a few thousand isn’t gonna change that.”
loki tilts his head, brows furrowing. “i don’t follow.”
“just wondering,” bucky shrugs, running his metal hand through his hair. “why don’t we put much more valuable stuff at stake?”
your lover grins. “like?”
bucky rolls up the left sleeve of his black button-up, flashing a stunning gold watch.
“this is one of the very first rolex oysters ever made, back in 2000. an ordinary one costs six thousand, but this baby is worth 1.7.”
“million?”
loki turns when he sees your eyes widen as you lean forward, admiring the watch.
“you heard it right. some say the only people who have ever touched it are the ceo, steve jobs, and kim kardashian.”
“and you.” you mumble softly. “i remember i watched this on buzzfeed unsolved. it went missing from from the british museum... did you-?”
“hold on, sweetheart," bucky chuckles, “i didn't steal this or anything. hydra did, i just happened ‘ta rip it off that bastard strucker’s dead body.”
loki turns to bucky. “it’s… quite interesting. though, it's a shame i don’t have anything on me tonight worth betting.”
bucky’s eyes meet yours.
then he grins.
“how ‘bout you bet your little angel here, huh?”
loki’s eyes darken, pulling you close to himself. “what?”
bucky laughs, waves his hand nonchalantly.
“not, like, forever, just one night, take her for a little spin. bet she sounds real pretty when she feels good, huh?”
in the corner of his eye, loki sees your brows furrow, and he feels you grip onto his shirt tighter.
“not that i’ll stand a chance against you, snake boy. doesn’t really matter what you put on the line if you win, right?”
you place your hand over loki’s, looking up at him anxiously. “loki, did i hear that right?”
he brushes a hand against your cheek, before turning to barnes.
“give us a moment."
bucky nods, standing up to go get another drink, leaving the atmosphere heavy with tension as loki patiently waits for you to say something.
“is it… weird that i kinda want the watch?"
loki scoffs, patting your hair as you lean into his touch. “of course not. i’ll win it for you, i’ll even kill him if it m-”
“no!!" you yelp, and he laughs.
“just joking, dear." he kisses your hand again.
“mhm.”
“mhm?" he mimics your breathy hum, smirking and teasingly kissing your cheeks and neck. “and why is my angel suddenly so shy, mhm?"
you gasp, trying to push him away with no avail. “loki, love, baby-”
he leans in just enough for his lips to graze against your ear. “can i tell you a secret?"
you nod, whining softly, and he grins.
“i know about your little crush on barnes~"
your eyes widen. “what?"
“oh, don't act so coy, love.” loki presses a hand to your chest, pushing you against the seat. “you know you can't hide anything from me, can you?"
“i’m not hiding anything-”
loki chuckles, shaking his head as he leans over you, smiling harder when your face flushes.
“right, you aren't, love," he tucks a stray bit of hair behind your ear. “not when it's so obvious to me. not when you’re such a shy little dove when he’s around, hmm?"
the way your lips part and close again as if you’re struggling to speak goes straight down to his crotch. he knows deep down you want this, that no matter how much you deny it the way you squeeze your soft thighs together is unmistakable.
“i’m going to accept this little deal, angel.”
he tentatively presses his thumb against your lips, watching intently as your chest heaves nervously at his touch.
“and while we’re playing, i’ll be watching your every reaction to him.”
he brushes your lower lip, pressing a bit harder to slip his thumb into your mouth, pulling away just a second after. you mewl softly, but he pins you to the seat so you can't get away as he leans in to brush his lips seductively against your neck.
“and if i see you turn even the slightest bit pink, i’m going to let him win on purpose and he’ll have you all to himself for the rest of the night.”
he knows you're way too transparent to even try and hide it, but that's the point, isn't it? he knows you want it too. and who is he if not the very first person who should be showering you in rewards and granting your every wish?
he nips down hard on your neck*,* then sucks delicately on the spot, relishing in the sweet sound of pleasure that leaves your lips.
“and if you’re a very good girl for him, i’ll give you a reward you’ll love very much. do you understand, my angel?”
“yeah,” you answer, more whimper than words.
he grins, and just in time, bucky comes back with a few drinks, sitting across the table just as loki moves away from your trembling figure, adjusting his tie very casually as if he didn’t just cuckold you off to his best friend.
needless to say it doesn't take long for the game to end and the more exciting part of the night to begin.
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loki pours himself a drink, swirling the liquid around in the ice and taking a sip.
pretending his cock isn't getting harder with every whimper from you.
bucky’s got you pressed against the king-size bed in his suite, being a pretty angel so kiss-drunk already as he pins your wrists to your side. he’s teased you relentlessly on the elevator ride up to his suite on the 38th floor.
“bucky..." you mumble, your voice breaking off into a gasp as he moves down to your neck.
“gosh,” he grins against your sensitive skin. “you’re the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen.”
the praise has your head spinning as bucky sucks at your neck, grazing his teeth over the mark he’s making.
“see? that right there, how you get all shy when i tell you you're pretty, makes you such a cutie… i don’t blame loki for always keepin’ his hands on you, sugar~”
“bucky-!” you squirm as his knee presses up against your crotch.
loki takes another swig of the alcohol and sets his glass down.
he chuckles. “where are you running off to~?”
bucky is just as amused by your shy antics, letting you struggle in his grip as much as you want to, though he doesn’t let you go.
“gosh, lokes. she’s so-” he kisses your neck real hard and your eyes glaze over, “-fucking pretty.”
“she really is~” loki agrees, leaning back in his chair. “you know, you can be a little bit rougher with her.”
bucky hums. “really? she's real sensitive, don’t think she’ll last long, can’t have my little prize passin’ out on me. will ya’, pretty?”
you shake your head, and both men smirk at how good you want to be for both of them.
“i just wanna get a little taste of you, baby,” bucky mocks your breathless whines. “so could you be a good girl and lay back, hmm? let me claim my prize?”
“o-okay…” you mumble, feeling floaty as his hands wander all over you,.
“so damn cute,” bucky growls, nipping your ear. he places his hands on your thighs, spreading you out for him. bucky’s eyes widen, and he looks back at loki.
loki grins. “no underwear, hmm? just as i told her. see, she’s such a dirty little thing~”
“this whole time?” bucky kisses your inner thigh. “you’re corrupting her, loki.”
“and she likes it,” loki crosses his legs. “no matter how shy she is, it makes her feel heavenly when i praise her for doing everything i command.”
flustered at the way these lethally attractive men are talking about you as if you aren’t here, your eyes meet bucky’s and he smirks.
“that true, baby?”
“i- uh, kinda…?”
loki chuckles at your answer. “barnes, i think your reward is getting a little restless~”
bucky licks his lips and dives in for the kill, tracing his tongue along your slit before sucking on your clit. you whimper, trembling at the sensation, and bucky chuckles.
“god, you taste so fucking pretty.”bucky groans, using his thumb to tease your little bud as he fucks your dripping hole with his tongue.
loki shifts in his seat, the bulge in his pants becoming more and more prominent as he downs the rest of his glass and makes his way towards your helpless, shaking body.
a loud ripping sound fills the room and you gasp, completely bare as loki reduces your little blue dress to shreds.
“i’ll buy you a new one, angel,” loki sits you up as bucky grins up at you, his face wet with your juices.
your eyes widen as he licks his lips again, and you get flustered at the brazen look in his eyes.
“god, sugar,” bucky unfastens his belt. “’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll go stupid.”
you whine, closing your legs to ease the ache, but loki whispers in your ear, “don’t move, darling, you said youd be good for him~”
when bucky rolls up his other sleeve, you realize that you’re completely bare to them while they are both still fully clothed.
the feeling of powerlessness sends a tear down your leg.
bucky pins you down on the bed ass up, and loki takes the belt, binding your hands behind your back.
“she gets all fidgety when she starts feeling good,” loki chuckles when you whimper at his drawl. “don’t want her running off when you make her dumb, hmm?”
bucky swats his hands away, and leans in really close to your ear.
“i’m gonna fuck your pretty hole real good, baby,” he murmurs, and you whine at his dirty words.
bucky spreads your thighs and lines up, smirking up at loki, who quirks an eyebrow as he returns to his seat.
“and your loki here is gonna watch as you come for me over and over and over again like the little cockdrunk princess you are.”
there’s a lewdly wet sound that comes from your pussy as he pushes his cock into you, and you moan loudly, soaking him with your arousal and clenching down on him like a little slut.
“and maybe… if you look real pretty and let me do what i want, i’ll let loki have a turn~”
your glassy eyes flicker up and you whimper at what you see.
loki’s got one fist around his leaking cock, watching as his pretty baby adjusts to bucky’s size.
“you ready, cutie?” bucky laughs at the blissful teary look in your eyes, and decides that he’s got his reply.
he pulls his hips back slowly, making you really feel every bit of him sliding out-
bucky slams back in, stealing your breath and making you squeak brokenly. he laughs, kissing your cheek with a loud smack sound. “hmm? feeling good, sweetheart?”
“uhuh…” you look back at bucky, who grins and kisses you again on the lips.
“such a good little baby~” he mocks your airy voice, and presses you down on the bed and begins thrusting at a slow but rough pace.
loki groans as he watches you get fucked dizzy. “you alright, darling~?” he smiles teasingly, voice raspy from stimulating himself.
“y-yeah…” you mumble, whimpering into the pillows as bucky fucks you from behind.
loki just loves you like this: so depraved yet still shy and willing and still so eager to please, even when your coherence is withering away with every relentless thrust of bucky’s cock into your cunt.
“so fucking cute-” bucks rams particularly hard into you, making you squeak and kick helplessly.
“no, no, don’t fight it, darling,” loki chuckles, tilting your chin up to get a look at your pretty eyes wet with tears. “you’re just his little prize, so just be a good girl for us?”
bucky licks your shoulder and sucks on your sensitive skin, his thrusts getting sloppy.
“f-fuck, i’m getting close, baby~” he whispers hoarsely. “think you can come for me? keep squeezin’ your pretty cunt around me just like that?”
“mhm…” you whimper, nudging your cute little head into the pillow.
bucky fucks into you, groaning at the feeling of your warmth, and pins your shaking hips down on the bed before coming inside of you and making sure none of it drips out. loki cums too, his spent staining the expensive carpet.
shaky breaths tickle your ear, before he laughs and kisses your shoulder, pulling out and untying the belt on your wrists. loki laughs at how limp his pretty angel is as bucky lifts you up into his lap.
“cutie,” bucky traces a metal finger under your chin, brushing his lips against yours.
you shyly hum, eyes droopy and your body too exhausted to move.
but you still register the metallic click and something encasing your wrist.
“a little gift to you for being such a sweetheart, hmm?”
your eyes flutter open as you look down at the million-dollar gold watch around your wrist.
bucky laughs at the way your eyes widen. “don’t scratch it, baby. it’s a modern-day historical relic~”
“b-but didn’t loki lose?” you ask, “that’s why i-”
another set of arms wraps around you, making you wonder when loki got up from his seat.
“darling,” loki drawls, “what you don’t know is that either way, bucky would have ended up fucking your pretty cunt, mm? he likes you very much, doesn’t he?”
your lips part as he places you back down on the bed, spreading your legs before cradling the back of your head with one hand and grabbing your hips in the other.
“while bucky’s recovering from how good you made him feel, pretty angel~” loki praises you, kissing your lips and breaking away too soon, “let’s make the most of the night and your pretty body, shall we? don’t worry, you’re in very good hands with the both of us, my princess~”
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cowboycakes · 1 year
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I want to ride Johnny until I cry out in orgasmic bliss like a coyote howling to the full moon.
ah, my first johnny ask 😊 when i tell you this is the realest shit i've ever heard... and that simile is so poetic. yeehaw. i love it.
★ RIDING JOHNNY JOESTAR ★
MINORS DNI (18+)
Warnings: nsfw. sub johnny. afab reader. dacryphilia, slight cockwarming, nipple play, unprotected sex/creampie, leaving hickeys. johnny likes to be praised, sex is on the fluffier side. i'm a johnny dickrider idc idc idc. porn without plot, unedited.
WC: 1k
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from the get-go, johnny's whining. even when you first sink down on him. when you're still adjusting yourself on his cock, he's already breathing erratically and squinting his eyes. he lets out a low sigh when you bottom out, overtaken by the warmth that swallows his cock.
he can't stand the fact that this feeling has to end later.
you sit on him for a moment, unmoving, relishing in the slightly painful stretch that his pretty cock is giving you. you let him know how great he feels, and take some time to play with a blonde curl in his hair - he loves it when you dote on him during sex.
you start off slow for him, easing yourself up and down on his length. the mattress squeaks at the shifting of your weight.
johnny sucks in air through gritted teeth, then lets out sweet, low moans through parted lips. he can't keep his mouth shut, not even if you begged him to.
he's not sure how to occupy his hands because the feeling of your pussy strangling his cock is enough to make him lose any and all direction. he'll clutch the sheets with sweaty palms, then he'll brace himself with one hand against the headboard behind him while you roll your hips down onto his cock, pushing the two of you rhythmically back and forth on the bed.
"johnny..." you moan repeatedly with each thrust you give him.
the sound of his name on your lips turns his face beet red.
you decide to speed up, giving him the hint that you can take the reins. he anchors his hands on your hips and follows your motions.
the room fills with the wet slapping sounds of your pelvis bouncing off of his... and johnny's moans only get louder, more guttural and untamed. he can't help but writhe underneath you. he's trying to contain himself, but his eyes can't leave your tits as they bounce with the rise and fall of your body onto his, and his cock is so goddamn sensitive right now...
so, of course he's gonna start crying, and its all your fault. you feel too fucking good, and he's doing everything in his power to make this last. he desperately doesn't want to cum yet. he craves the feeling of his body inside of yours, in a state where the two of you as close as you can be... he doesn't want it to be over.
you notice the small teardrops that once pricked the corners of his eyes have now welled up and spilled over, streaming over his reddened cheeks. his thick, delicate lashes stick together as he tries to bat the tears from his eyes.
he's gorgeous when he cries - almost angelic. his glassed-over blue irises and furrowed blonde brows bring about an innocence to him that he doesn't always possess. its hard to feel bad for making him sob underneath you when he looks this fucking pretty while he does it. the urge to nurture him hits you anyway.
"you alright, johnny?" you ask, using the pad of your thumb to wipe a hot tear off his cheek.
"uh huh... don't fucking stop..." he chokes through his sobs. "please- don't stop..."
you let tender fingers caress the side of his face. he turns his head towards your hand a bit, attempting to leave small kisses on your palms.
you can feel your orgasm winding up as a pleasure deep inside of you arises. your abdomen and thighs contract, and the walls of your cunt twitch around johnny's cock, which drives him fucking nuts.
he finds the strength to sit up a bit, to give you the leverage to take him even deeper and chase your orgasm.
the two of you take turns letting your mouths roam over each other's upper bodies while in this new sitting position. you sloppily kiss him at first, and he melts into your touch. your kisses morph into painful blue marks all over his neck and collar bones. he whines at the residual pain - he'll still be whining about it when he looks in the mirror tomorrow morning and those bruises still stain his skin.
he follows your lead once you're done with him - taking his open mouth over your chest, smearing his baby blue lipstick and drool all over your tits. he pays special attention to your hardened nipples. he pushes his face into your tits and sucks on them, hard, causing you to whine about how much you love the feeling of his mouth on your body. you push into him and wrap your arms around his back, bringing the two of you into an intimate, warm embrace while you fuck desperately down into his lap.
even though his mouth is preoccupied, his moans haven't stopped. you can feel his lips vibrating into the tender skin of your breasts. he takes little pauses to breathe and curse when he feels the head of his cock hit your cervix.
he takes his lips off of you and throws his head back when he's about to cum. an open-mouthed look of ecstasy is painted on his face, his skin shines with sweat and tears.
he's letting out high-pitched panting sounds.
"a-are you going to..." he breathes "cum on my cock?"
"i'm close, johnny..." you squeak. "are you-"
"mmmh... f-fuck!" is all he can muster.
he empties himself inside of you, panting as his hips twitch sporadically against yours. the warm rush of his seed fills you up. you continue fucking his cum into your cunt until your own orgasm hits.
you collapse into johnny as a string of cries pours out of your mouth. he guides the two of you down flat onto the mattress. both of your minds are blank. your bodies, limp.
he uses a weak hand to attempt to wipe his cum that spills down your thighs and over his cock. you respond by wiping the stray tears that trail down his face.
johnny will tangle you in the sheets after he's got you cleaned up. he'll hold you for however long you're going to let him.
© cowboycakes.
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author's note: anon, you didn't ask for all this but FUCK I WANT TO RIDE HIM SO motherfuckn BAD like you do not understand. this was horribly self-indulgent IM SORRY. i thought this would be a quick lil scenario but it turned into this very fast. so fast it did not even make it to the wips page. because that's what johnny does to me ig...
thanks for reading! i appreciate every like, comment, and rb y'all send my way. i especially appreciate it when you guys ramble in the tags about what you liked. its cute.
requests/thirsts for jjba and my inbox are open, as usual :)
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dekuphilia · 2 years
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BETWEEN A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE
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Pairing: pro hero!Izuku Midoriya x reader
Warnings: nsft content, dubcon (reader consents after some pressure), afab reader, fingering (f. receiving), dom/sub, reader is indifferent about heroes, slight arguing (nothing major, no yelling, ect. Mostly reader and deku both being snarky), size kink, brat tamer deku, deku is kinda mean and feral lmao, praise, degradation, brat reader, cervix fucking
Request: Could I please request Adult Deku fucking you into submission while still semi wearing his hero suit? It's just such a turn-on, maybe he rescued you from a mission and you go to his office to "thank him" or "Show your appreciation" and he's okay with it. Like it's 100% consensual. Anything goes.
note: all characters are aged up to 21+
nsft under the cut
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You approached the large building, taking a deep breath before pushing open the door, a small bell jingling as you entered. Without a word, you walked to the reception desk. You were so thankful that Deku had stopped that gang of villains from stealing from your bakery last week, that you decided to drop off a small basket filled with muffins, cookies, and other assorted baked goods. Small reminders of your thankfulness, though you were sure he wouldn’t remember you, surely saving so many people a day meant he couldn’t quite remember everyone, you thought to yourself.
As you neared the reception desk, a woman glanced up at you, taking a break from typing, “How can I help you?” her eyes shifted between you and the basket you were holding in your arms.
“I uh,” you glanced down at the basket, “I wanted to drop these off for Deku as a thank you,” you placed it on the counter, “As a thank you gift, would you mind giving it to him when you have a few minutes?”
The receptionist glanced down the hall, waiting for a moment before she turned back to you, “You can actually take it to him if you’d like,” she gave you a warm smile, “I’m a bit busy right now and I’m sure he’d appreciate the gesture! He always loves seeing his fans.” the woman gushed.
Fans. It’s not that you weren’t a fan of him, but the word sounded so artificial, Deku wasn’t a famous singer or an actor, he was a hero. Someone who risked their lives to save others. The word bounced around your mind as you replied.
“Are you sure?” you gave her an odd look, “I wouldn’t want to bother him.”
“No, no, it’s okay!” she urged, “His office is the first door on the left, I’m sure the door is open.” she nods, “He hardly closes his door anyway.”
“If you’re sure.” you grab the basket from the counter, hooking your arm through the handle, “Well, thank you!” 
As you make your way down the hallway, a wave of anxiety hits you, leaving you breathless as you finally near the hero’s office, peeking in to see Deku scribbling away on a file. The simple conversation was heavy on your mind as you stood for a moment. You hoped he wouldn’t see you as a fan, you were here to thank him, show your appreciation, not fawn over him. 
“Excuse me.” you clear your throat, causing the hero to glance up at you, emerald eyes landing on the basket in your arms, “I’m sorry to bother you,” you trailed off.
“Ah, no! You’re okay,” he grinned a heroic smile, the same one you had seen on television a thousand times, the same one he’s flashed you before leaving your shop last week, “I remember you actually, You’re the girl from the bakery near the apartment complex.” His pen clattered against the wood of his desk, “I’ve been meaning to stop by again, but I’ve been quite busy, as you can imagine.” He let out a small laugh, a laugh that had a blush covering your cheeks, he was so charming, so kind, you weren’t surprised he was one of the top heroes.
“Oh, I’m sure you are!” You chimed, nearing his desk, “I really appreciate what you did for me,” you place the basket on his desk, the aroma of sweetness clouding the air, serotonin rushing through Izuku’s veins as you lean closer, your breasts spilling over the top of the tight shirt you were wearing, “As I said, I’m sorry for bothering you! I really just wanted to drop these off!”
He should’ve felt bad, really, objectifying you when he hadn’t even asked for your name. He didn't though, something in the hero’s brain must have shut off when he saw you.
Pink dusted freckled cheeks, You were just so cute, bringing him a little gift to remember you by, bashfully standing in his office in a cute skirt and a tight top. Deku loved meeting his admirers, he really did, But most of them were children, poking and prodigy at his hero suit with sticky fingers and runny noses, but you, you were different, a sweet little thing, offering him a gift in place of your gratitude. He really had meant to stop by your bakery again, hoping to savor a sweet treat, but his work was so demanding. He didn’t mind though, he knew what he was getting himself into so many years ago, he still longed for a bit of freedom though. 
Glancing at the clock ticking on the wall, Deku blurted out a response, “You, uh, you can sit down for a few,” his hand ghosting the back of his neck, ruffling green curls, “If you’d like anyways, It gets a bit lonely back here.”
You were sure he was just saying that, He was so popular, so loved, that you were sure he hardly had the time to feel lonely. He had such a clean reputation, you couldn’t recall seeing any heinous articles about him, other than the tabloids that, of course, sold any story, even those that held blatant lies in their margins.
“I would love to, really,” you let out a sigh, breath escaping your nostrils in a huff, “but, I really should get going. Thank you for the offer though.” You linger for a moment, rocking on the balls of your feet, “I’m sure I’ll see you around though.”
An unfamiliar feeling bubbling in Izuku’s chest, a mixture of frustration and jealousy, something he wasn’t quite used to. As you turned on your heels to make an exit, he stood quickly, his chair scraping the linoleum floor in an ugly screech as he rushed to meet you, looming in the doorway to block you in, “Ah, actually–”
You were quick to cut him off mid-sentence, “What are you doing?” you gasped, cocking an eyebrow as you contemplated squeezing past him, though the thought was dismissed, there was no way you would be able to slip through.
Deku thought of his next move, thoughts clouded with your sweet aroma and kind gesture, the frustrated look on your face breaking something deep within him, he hadn’t seen such brashness in a civilian in so long. Most people would have been thrilled to be so close to him, to spend a few minutes chatting with him, but you seemed to want to get out of his office as fast as possible, yet you had still come here to thank him and offer something that you’d made by hand, something you had put love and care into. The least you could let him do was thank you in return, give him a few moments of your time, that was all he was asking for, really.
“You know, I’m not really a fan of your attitude.”
There was that word again, looming over your head like a cloud on a rainy day. You didn’t hate heroes, really, you were so thankful to have someone strong enough to risk their life for you, but you weren’t a fan of them. You admired them, respected them, not stooping as low as to idolize them as many others did. Your hatred for the simple word only seemed to grow stronger the more you heard it. 
“Move,” you said firmly, eyebrows narrowed in frustration, showing him how serious you were.
“I don’t think I will.” he all but growled in response, moving quickly to push the door shut, trapping you inside with him.
You were being so obnoxious, pushing Izuku’s buttons, you were doing it on purpose, he thought. Nostrils flared as he narrowed his eyes at you, a look you had never seen before, a look that somehow suited him well. Even in your annoyance, you admired him, admired the way he raised his shoulders, subtly asserting his dominance over you. You recognized his stance though, one he would often use in battle to make himself seem authoritative, assertive even. You had to admit though, staring up at him, an ounce of fear coursed through you. 
“Let me out.” you huffed, rolling your eyes at the hero, “I have things to do, you know.”
Deku nearly chuckled in response, a puff of air escaping his nose instead, “I’m sure you do.” he seethed, “But I was hoping to take a moment of your time,” he leaned down, face inches away from yours, hot breath fanning across your face, “If that’s not too much of an issue.”
Your voice betrayed you, dying in your throat as a strangled noise left your lips, you were astounded by his behavior, the golden hero showing a new side of himself, a side that piqued your interest.
Adrenaline coursed through your veins as he leaned impossibly close, lips ghosting against yours, “Now, if you would be quiet,” he mumbled against you, “I’d like to thank you.”
You could feel your heart pulsing in your chest, threatening to escape your ribcage as his lips pressed against yours in a rushed kiss, lips molding against yours within seconds. Though you were taken aback by his actions, you reached out for him, dainty fingers fisting the top of his hero suit. 
“Can’t believe you’d talk to me like that.” he broke the kiss to speak, his much larger hand engulfing yours, holding it in place, “Can’t believe you’d come into my office and act like that,” he scoffed, a smirk of confidence spreading across his face.
“Unlike some people,” you whispered, “I don’t idolize you.”
Your words sent Izuku into a frenzy, strong arms pressing your back against the door that was opened moments ago, the door that was never closed, always welcoming those who needed him in. Right now though, he needed you. 
“Oh, you will.” He asserted, muscular hips pressing against your in desperation, “You will when I’m finished with you.” 
You wondered how many other women had been in your spot, boxed in between Deku and a hard place. The feeling of jealousy bubbling in your chest, thinking about how many times he had done this, how many people he had probably slept with. There was no denying he was attractive, charming even.
Without another word, he ripped his gloves from his hands, discarding the white fabric behind himself, “Let's do this properly, yeah?” He commented, Bare hands gripping your waist, bunching up your shirt until he could feel your skin under his calloused fingers, “Oh would you prefer to do this the hard way?”
Deku watched you closely, examining the way your nose wrinkled, the way your eyebrows knit together as he stared down at you with a hungry gaze, similar to a predator about to devour its prey. He knew you were playing coy, your body reacting to his touch positively, you were just stubborn. He knew all about your type, the type who would never admit they were enjoying something, the type who stood their ground, even if they realized they were wrong. You reminded him of Katsuki in a way, so stubborn and bold. He couldn’t help but admire you.
“Think you can play nice for a bit?” he taunted, hands roaming down your body until they met the fat of your ass, Deku squeezed, enjoying how malleable you were under his hands, “Or am I going to have to fuck the brattiness out of you, huh?” 
He shocked himself if he was honest. Izuku was nothing shy of an affectionate lover, one who always made sure his partner was comfortable, putting their pleasure above his own, but you were tempting him, you, the little minx in his office, had his patience running thin.
“Ah, no,” You finally spoke, “I don't want–”
 Deku was quick to cut you off, “You don’t want me?” he scoffed, removing his hand from your ass to cup your sex beneath your skirt, your arousal coating the thin material, “You don’t want me,” he reiterated, shaking his head, “But your pussy is practically drooling on me.”
You knew he was right, you had been caught red-handed by the hero, and the smile on his face was proof that he had you figured out. You knew you couldn’t keep this act up much longer, your mind clouded with thoughts of him, the scent of baked goods no longer looming over you, all you could feel, all you could smell was him, the scent of pine overtaking you until you were drowning.
“I don’t know about you,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t just dipped his finger past the thin material covering your core, “But I’m done playing games.” With narrowed eyes, his index finger landed on your clit, his thumb joining it to pinch the small nub until you let out a yelp.
“No more games!” You gasped, pleasure replacing pain as he removed his thumb, lazily rubbing you, “I’m sorry,” you nearly whined, leaning into his touch.
“That’s more like it, hm?” he said, false affection honeying his tone down, “S’fun to behave, isn’t it?” 
Calloused fingers continued their torment, nearly bringing you to the edge within seconds. Deku was so skilled with his hands, he had learned to use them to his advantage years ago when he was training to be the hero he was today. He learned to take his time, and handle things delicately, with care. 
All you could do was nod, completely dumbfounded by his actions, his words, him. He was consuming your mind, overtaking your every thought. You hated it, the way you seemed to idolize him at that moment. You promised yourself you would never stoop so low, yet here you were, A moaning mess under the hero’s touch. 
“Deku, please, I–” You couldn’t even finish your thought, a surprised expression washing over your face as He pushed two thick fingers inside of you, his thumb landing on your clit to rub circles.
“You’re going to cum already?” he taunted, fingers curling in your gummy walls, “Greedy little thing, aren’tcha? Haven’t even touched me and you want to cum.” he shook his head, continuing his movements.
He was right, you **were greedy, vision already fading to white as he pushed you closer to an orgasm. The hero knew exactly what he was doing to you, even if you wouldn’t utter the words, the look plastered on your precious face was enough for him.
“S’okay baby,” he said nonchalantly, “You can let go,” False sympathy coated his tone, a faux pout covering his lips as he watched you, watched the way you squirmed, the way you could hardly catch your breath, “If you ask nicely.” 
Within seconds, pleas were escaping your lips, his name a mantra against them, “Please, Deku!” you whined your dainty fist clutching to his shirt, “Oh my god, Please!” 
You put on quite a show, he had to admit. You were really trying to impress him, looking up at him with doe eyes, a sheen of sweat covering your brow. How could he deny you?
“Yeah, yeah.” he muttered to himself, “C’mon, cum for me.”
As soon as he said the word, you let go, your arousal coating his hand as you let out a string of moans, his hero name sweetly peppered between them. You were angelic, really, a goddess sent from above.
Deku worked you through your orgasm, withdrawing his finger after a moment to taste you, licking your arousal from his digits as you adjusted your shirt, taking in a sharp breath. You could hardly look at him, shame clouding your thoughts. There was no way that just happened, no way that was how the top hero treated innocent civilians who walked into his office to thank him. 
Once you composed yourself and collected your thoughts, you wordlessly reached for the doorknob, only for Deku to stop you, “Where do you think you’re going?” He chuckled, “We’re just getting started.”
With narrowed eyes, you glanced up at him, “As I said,” you sneered, “I have things to do today.”
“And as I said, I don’t care.”
You scoffed, pressing your hands into his chest, feeling the way his muscles flexed under your fingers, “Let me go.” 
He laughed, “I’m not holding you against your will, sweetheart. That wouldn’t be very heroic of me, would it?” His gaze was trained on you, watching your face contort in frustration, “Door’s not even locked.” He turned the knob just enough to show you.
You all but scoffed, rolling your eyes as you watched him turn the small lock, “It is now.” you commented.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” emerald eyes held a sort of primal hunger as they gazed down at you, “Did you want me to leave it unlocked while I devour you?” he taunted.
 You stuttered out a response, something close to a no as your confidence faded away. His
hands met your waist wordlessly, fingers flexing. You subconsciously melted into his touch, slowly becoming putty in his hands. You hated it, the emotional control he had over you, the way he loomed over you, making you feel small.
“That’s what I thought you’d say.” Deku responded in a cheery tone, using the voice he often used when greeting children, “C’mon,” he released your waist, taking your hand in his as you stared up at him, slowly guiding you towards his desk.
You trailed behind him, watching the way his shoulders flexed as he moved, the way the muscles of his back flexed beneath the fabric of his hero suit, the green material clinging to him. You were in awe, nearly drooling over him as a loud noise dragged you back to reality, pens and knick-knack clattering against the tile as Deku swiped his arm across his desk.
“What the hell,” you gasped, gawking at the mess on the floor.
“I figured it wouldn’t be very comfortable,” he cornered you against the desk, breath fanning across your face as he leaned down, “Pens poking into you while I fuck your brains out,” a laugh died in his chest, coming out as a puff through his nostrils, “Unless you’re into pain, that is.”
“I’m not.” your brows furrowed as you glared up at him, annoyed that he would make that assumption, no matter if he was right or not.
“Before we get started,” he tilted his head back, flashing you a smirk, pearly white teeth peeking out, “I’ll let you leave if you’d like, But I really think you’d enjoy yourself if you stayed for a bit longer.”
He knew you wouldn’t leave, your mind still clouded with pleasure, the pleasure he gave you. You had to admit, He made you feel really good, much better than you could have, his digits reaching spots you never imagined. With a defeated sigh, you muttered out a response, “No.”
“Hm?” He teased, you knew he heard you, the hero such inches away from you.
“I said no, I’ll stay.” you huffed.
“Good choice.” Deku leaned back for a moment, drawing down the zipper of his hero suit to reveal his toned chest, freckles coating his tan skin.
You drank in the sight, mentally connecting constellations across the span of his chest, your eyes drifting further down as he drew the zipper further down, his utility belt hitting the floor with a crash. Deku pushed down the bulk of his hero suit, the material bunching at his thighs as he leaned closer, forest curls tickling your cheek as he whispered in your ear.
“I hope you’re ready for me,” His words sent shivers down your spine, “Because I can’t wait any longer.” 
Firm hands grabbed you by the waist, placing you on the cool wood of his desk. A small gasp left your lips as your ass pressed against the material, your skirt had already ridden up, the fabric bunching around your waist. Wordlessly, Deku’s fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear, tugging the flimsy piece down with ease, only to discard it to the floor.
“S’gonna hurt for a second,” he murmured, tugging down his briefs, his cock slapping against his abdomen. 
You weren’t a virgin by any means, but the sheer size of him made your heart jump in your chest. He was long, nearly 8 inches, and the girth only added to your anxiety. You would make it fit, you assured yourself, He would make it fit.
“Don’t worry.” Deku let out a breathy laugh, noticing the look in your eye, “S’not that bad.” he assured you, fisting his cock lazily before lining it up with your entrance, “I’ll go easy on you.” 
Deku tapped the head against your clit, smearing pre-cum down your slit, though it wasn’t necessary, you were definitely wet enough, the remnants of your previous orgasm drooling out of you.
 Forest eyes met your own, a kind look washing over them as he slowly pressed the tip in. A whine passed your lips as he stopped for a moment, eyes flicking down to watch the way your cunt clenched around him. After a moment, he met your gaze again, inching a bit more of himself inside of you, moving slowly until he bottomed out inside of you.
“Wasn’t so bad, hm?” He teased, giving a small thrust of his hips to test the waters, see if you could handle him.
A moan escaped your lips, your cunt clenching around him on instinct. You could feel him in your stomach, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix in the most heavenly way.
“Gotta stop squeezing me like that,” he let out a breath through his nose, eyes clamped shut.
You couldn’t help it, he had hardly moved, hips stilled as you adjusted to him, “Please,” you gasped, “Please move.” you nearly begged, yearning to feel him, all of him.
With a nod, Izuku snapped his hips, hands settling on your thighs to hold you in place. His gaze was trained on your pussy, watching his cock disappear inside of you over and over again, a ring of arousal coating the base of him.
“I still can’t believe you,” he snarled, eyes flicking up to meet yours, “Talking to me like that,” hips crashed against yours as he spoke, “Treating me like I’m a nobody,” a growl left his throat, “Disrespecting me as if I didn’t save your life.”
A snarky reply sat on the tip of your tongue, but you were overtaken by pleasure, your moans filling the space of his office as he continued, quickening his pace. A scowl covers his face as he glared down at you, tightening his grip on your thighs. You were sure there would be bruises by the time you were finished, reminders of his touch, reminders of how good he made you feel.
He released one of your legs, digits finding your clit with ease, his index finger circled the bundle of nerves, reducing you to a pathetic, moaning mess beneath the hero. You felt like you were on cloud nine, pleasure coursing through your veins as Deku railed into you at a quick pace, moving with ease as your arousal coated his cock. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, threatening to snap.
“Deku, I can’t, oh my god.” a string of whines left your lips, your hips bucking to meet his in an attempt to take him deeper as if that was even possible.
A growl left the hero’s throat, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead as curls stuck to his skin, “You wanna cum?” he taunted, tilting his head back as a smirk covered his lips, “Go ahead,” he licked his lips, gaze trained on your cunt, “I’m not gonna stop ya’, Cum f’me.” he sneered.
His hips collided with yours another time, sending you over the edge, the coil finally snapping as you let out a whimper, your arousal coating the hero’s thighs.
“Ah, look at that,” Deku let out a groan, “You’re fuckin’ perfect, aren’tcha? Squirtin’ on my cock like a good girl.” 
His words sent shivers down your spine, leaving you breathless as you came down from your high, but Deku wasn’t finished yet, still thrusting into your drooling hole as you tried your best to catch your breath. You noticed the way his rhythm faltered, movements growing sloppier as he chased his own high, his orgasm soo washing over him. With a final thrust, he rushed to withdraw his cock from your cunt, releasing his load on your thighs.
Deku hung his head for a moment, the sound of labored breathing filling the room as you both composed yourselves. You didn’t mind the silence, a peaceful moment before you had to leave.
“I uh,” emerald eyes met yours, the once feral look replaced with kindness, true emotion, “Hope I wasn’t too rough.” his gaze drifted to your thighs, fingerprints already forming against your skin.
“It’s okay.” you offered him a lazy smile, a blush covering your cheeks, “I’m sorry for being so hateful,” you whispered, “But I still don’t idolize you.” you teased playfully.
“I’ll change your mind, “ he chuckled, shaking his head, “eventually.”
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lacheri · 2 years
Note
ahahahahahaha
"good girl—that's a good fucking girl."
with levi?
(also your new theme is so adorable I love it)
thank u you're adorable and i love u whoops who said that i mean ahem we're in our enemies arc right?? *nervous laughter*
anyways consider this revenge for the daddy kink superior oneshot u posted
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content: fem bodied reader x dom levi, they are smoking WEED, thoughts about death and existentialism, implied reader's first time getting high??? idk just roll w it it's literally the internet, college au, best friends to lovers, i'm a comedic genius, various mentions of kinks (degradation, bondage, furries????) but not actually used in the fic, praise kink, DADDY kink omfg. finger fuckin happy 420, i did not reread this or edit it in the slightest enjoy my absolute unhinged inner workings, minors and ageless blogs do not interact!
wc: a little over 3k i just wanna sleep
prompt event closed! i am no longer taking requests! (:
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Smoke is a weird concept. How it billows like clouds, streaming up and up and up, aimlessly going nowhere, anywhere. It’s even weirder to think how the fog, moments ago, brewed within the wet caverns of your lungs. You can’t feel it, the way it hangs in your lungs, and for a split second it’s hard to believe the haze was ever inside of you at all.
But it flows so smoothly between your lips as you exhale, and if the burning plant so lovingly bundled in a backwoods cigar casing was anything but weed, you’d consider it poisonous. Hell, maybe it still is, but isn’t that what life is all about anyways? Living, regardless of what may draw your ending a bit closer than before? It’s trivial anyways. Who wants to live their life clean cut and without the impending fear of it all suddenly ending by their own doing? Sounds quite boring.
“You still with me?” Levi nudges your side, arching an eyebrow. 
You shake your head, blinking away your thoughts, “Are we ever really here?”
“Alright, you’ve had enough,” his tongue clicks against his teeth, plucking the blunt away from your frozen fingers. “Should’ve never let you convince me to try this.”
“You don’t even know what I was thinking about,” your spine slumps against the back of his couch. 
The lights in Levi’s living space are so pretty, twinkling like little fairies, dancing about and giggling in their foreign tongue. You’re not hallucinating, just romanticizing the mundane, fixating on the dim yellow light that leaves soft shadows across his dorm. You’re glad he doesn’t have any roommates at the moment, they’d probably distract you from taking in your thoughts. They’re coming at lightspeed. 
You’re practically a roommate by now anyways. You basically live here. You have your own drawer filled with clothes inside of Levi’s dresser. You’d worry that Levi gets lonely, but he doesn’t, not when he has you around.
“You’re doing it again.”
“Are you a mind reader now?” you snort. “Distract me then. It’s pretty easy at the moment.”
“How are you feeling?” his eyes shift over your lazed form, relaxed and unburdened. 
You purse your lips, concentrating on the bridge of his nose, “I feel good. Can’t stop thinking thoughts.”
“Ground breaking,” Levi’s lips twitch before he places the cigar to his mouth. He takes a deep inhale, holds it for a beat, exhaling soundlessly. “Care to share these thoughts?”
“I might kill the vibe,” you giggle.
He chuckles, “Us sitting here in complete silence already did.”
“What if I don’t shut up?” your knee knocks into his playfully. “What if I just talk forever and ever, going on and on and on–”
The blunt is shoved in front of your face, you eye it quizzically as Levi says, “Nevermind. I liked the silence.”
“Mean,” you roll your eyes, reaching out for the drug. 
It’s burned down to a roach now, or at least that’s what you think it’s called. You’re not exactly sure, as this is the first time in your life you’ve ever gotten high. After several weeks of begging Levi to let you try it. It’s all part of the college experience, you reasoned, to which he told you getting a degree is more important. He’s overbearing a lot of the time, but it’s just because he cares. You think. You’ve been friends for too long to really criticize his intentions.
The heat licks at the tips of your fingers, and it’s painful to hold, so you squeak to Levi, “I can’t. It’s hot.”
“Such a baby,” he sighs, taking the roach back. “Whiny and introspective, what a combination.”
You frown, glaring as you respond, “I hardly know what I’m doing, smart ass.”
“You want me to hold it for you, baby?” Levi mocks you, but in this state of mind, the tease sounds a lot more suggestive than it actually is.
Oh, so weed makes you horny. Got it.
“Please?” you smile lazily. 
“Since you asked so nicely.”
Once again, the blunt is placed in front of your face. You don’t really understand how Levi isn’t flinching back from the flame. With the way he holds it, the lit end narrowly escapes brushing into the inside of his thumb. He has to feel the heat culminating in his palm, but he doesn’t react. 
You shift forward, leaning in to place your mouth on the cigar. The tips of his digits brush against your lips, and suddenly you feel like you can’t breathe properly. Not when he’s staring so attentively at you, pressing his fingers into the soft skin of your mouth to ensure you get a good hit.
Maybe getting smoked out by Levi was a bad idea after all. Usually you’re able to quiet these feelings and thoughts. Your brain is too spacious of a place to hide them right now, so your heart beats faster. Not because of the weed, but because you can’t stop thinking about your enormous crush on your best friend.
Despite the internal bombardment of your psyche, you take a deep breath, the smoke fills your lungs, and you’re exhaling. You repeat, Levi’s hand unwavering in front of you. Your exhales flirt around his palm, curling around his fingers, kissing the tips goodbye when it's their time to ascend to the ceiling.  
“There you go,” he mumbles. “Good girl.”
The silence is booming after the words fall from his lips. Your eyes are stuck on his, silver irises lovingly caressed by inky soft pinks and reds, blooming from the corners of his eyes to the centers. They’re even more striking like this. The contrast is alarmingly beautiful, and soon enough, you’re fixated.
As if you don’t stare Levi down every time you’re in his company. Perhaps now you’re just stupidly self aware of it.
Levi studies your expression, and it must be telling because he says, “What was that?”
“What was what?” you deflect, watching on as he stubs out the blunt in an ashtray on his coffee table.
His pointer finger pokes the tip of your nose, “That look. Don’t tell me you’re into that.”
“Into what?” you respond, heart racing just a bit faster.
“Getting called a good girl,” his voice dips lower. “Fuck, you totally are. You should see your face right now.”
“Then stop saying it!” you laugh out of embarrassment, swatting his palm away to bury your face in your own hands. You yell through the cracks of your fingers, “Fuck off!”
“That’s not how good girls speak, now is it?” Levi forces your hands from your cheeks, shoving them down into your lap. He squeezes your wrists together, the sensation rippling through your body, creating a domino effect of desire.
Fuck.
“What’s your kink then, huh? What weird shit are you into?” you attempt to divert the attention away from you, yanking your hands away from his hold.
“Wouldn’t you like to know? What the fuck are you– Ow! That fucking hurts!”
Your fingers grip at his hair, tugging and pulling at the roots, “Not into pain then. Not your own, at least.”
“Slap yourself and see if it turns me on,” Levi grumbles, smoothing over where you’d yanked. 
“Funny.” You had considered for a second. A high, stupid second. 
Your eyes flit over his face, his dark brows furrowed and eyes suspicious. His posture is tense, but Levi is always tense. His knees are spread apart, back stiff against the cushioning of the couch. His left forearm rests at his side, his right still cradling his head. 
“Degradation,” you narrow your gaze. 
“Nope. Try again.”
“Ropes.”
“Not the one I was really thinking of.”
“So there is one big one?”
“You’re never going to guess it. Give up.”
You snap your fingers, smiling ear to ear, “I got it! You’re a furry!”
Levi doesn’t even entertain you with a response. The deadpan glare is enough.
You laugh a bit too hard, “Okay, okay. Um, shit. You’re into someone, or you, getting dressed up in an outfit.”
“I’m not a fucking furry.”
“No, no!” you giggle. “Like a sexy maid! Or fancy lingerie!”
“It’s nice, but no, that’s not the one,” his eyes sparkle, humor thick in his voice. 
“Ropes and lingerie are cool, not into degrading,” you think out loud. “Are you a top or a bottom?”
“That’ll make it obvious.”
“How?”
“It just will.”
You look at Levi then, really look at him. From the solid clench in his jaw, to the way he claims his space so unapologetically, laid out against his sofa. His eyes are determined, fierce, and you’ve spent far too many nights imagining how deep the colors turn as he hovers over your body, thrusting in and out, praise after praise dripping from his lips like honey. How his hands would so perfectly wrap around your waist, your thighs, your throat. He’s got a filthy mouth on him, so you gather that it reaches a new altitude when he’s in the throes of pleasure. You think he might even growl when he cums.
Levi is the definition of confidence. A confident person must have a confident kink.
And then suddenly, it clicks. 
“I figured it out,” your tone shifts, dropping lower. You move your body closer until the outside of your thigh touches his, hovering your lips above his ear. “Aren’t you a nasty little thing?”
“I already told you, I’m not into degradation,” there’s a mild waver in his speech. 
“I know you’re not, daddy.”
Levi stiffens completely next to you, his breath caught in his throat. You smirk triumphantly, and try to ignore the creeping of heat in the pit of your stomach. Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the squeezing in your core transforming into a furious pounding, maybe it's all the years of denying your feelings coming to a head – you place a bold hand on his thigh, thumb stroking along the inseam of his sweatpants.
“Well,” your lips brush along the shell of his ear. “Am I right, daddy? Is this your kink?”
“Stop,” Levi grits out, fists clenching at his sides. 
“You didn’t stop when you found mine out,” you pout. “Why should I?”
“You really don’t want to test me. I promise you that you won’t like it,” he snarls. 
“I’m sort of curious,” your touch trails higher. You wonder if he’s getting hard right now. “Why do you like being called daddy?”
Levi says your name in a low warning, “Knock it off. I’m serious.”
“Why? Is it turning you on?” You’re utterly consumed by the lust blossoming in your center, drunk (high) off the knowledge that Levi has a fucking daddy kink. Who could’ve guessed it? “It’s only fair.”
“Fair because I turned you on?” he whips his head toward you, staring fiercely into your eyes. “Is your pussy wet from me telling you how you were such a good girl, taking that hit like that?”
“I don’t know daddy, is it?”
“Are you going to be good and let me find out? Or,” he grips your wandering wrist, guiding you back slowly down until your spine meets the padded seats of the sofa. You’re shaking, head swimming in the realization that Levi, your best friend and the person you’ve thought about while touching yourself for years, is really looming over you. His trembling breaths fan across your face, his free hand smoothing up your waist, “Are you going to a bratty little girl like you’ve been the past five minutes?”
You don’t want to choose. You want to be both. You gape up at him instead of answering, pulse pounding in your eardrums and body squirming under his intense focus. 
He doesn’t like that.
“Tell me you’re going to listen,” his pupils are dilated, his expression unhinged and positively wild. 
“Yes!” you rush out. You feel like you’re on fire. 
“Yes, what?” 
With a quivering voice, you blink up at him, “Yes, daddy.”
“Good girl,” Levi coos. “Spread your legs.”
Your body goes on autopilot, opening yourself open to his hungry gaze and domineering timbre. You’re glad you wore shorts tonight — it’ll be incredibly easy to take them off in a minute. 
His hazy eyes flirt down from your face, taking in the sight of your clothed body parting for him. His bottom lip is tugged by his front teeth, bouncing back into place moments later. His hands wander all over — the tops of your shoulders, the curve over your breasts, the plush of your stomach, the tops of your thighs. You almost wish you could take a picture of his face, but it’s ingrained in your memory now. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to forget the way Levi’s looking at you.
“It might be wrong of me to admit,” his voice is thick with desire. “But I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about this.”
Your heart leaps in your chest, “Me too.”
His attention darts back to your eyes, mouth agape, “Really?”
You nod, “I’ve imagined this for the past three years. Ever since we became friends.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Levi rasps, fingers curling along the waistband of your shorts.
“Why didn’t you?” you respond with your own question.
“Didn’t think you’d feel the same,” his nails scratch along your lower belly. “But I don’t think I can control myself anymore.”
“Then don’t.”
A fire ignites in his eyes, gripping and passionate, and he lunges in. His lips attach to yours ferociously, swallowing every whimper and gasp you exhale upon collision. His hand slides past the barrier of your clothing, dipping dangerously along the outskirts of your panties. You buck your hips, kissing him back with equal desperation, pouring as much of yourself as you can into his attention.
Levi groans into your mouth, trailing the tips of his fingers along your clothed slit, “Fuck, you are wet.”
“Touch me, please,” you beg, your palms circling the back of his neck. 
He doesn’t need to be told twice. Your panties slide to the side, and his middle finger generously swipes along your folds, collecting arousal and desire and years of yearning. The tip circles your clit, nudging the bud side to side, your pussy clenches around nothing.
“You’re gonna cum from my fingers, okay?” Levi asks, but it sounds more like a demand. “And if you stop kissing me, I won’t let you. Understood?”
You whimper, “Yes, fuck, please Levi, need you so bad.”
“Say it,” he begs. “Fucking say it for me baby.”
“Please, daddy,” you plead, high pitched and uncontrolled.
“You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he pecks your lips, sweetly affectionate. His palm flattens on your cunt, using every digit to rub toe curling patterns against your clit. You shutter, desperately kissing every piece of skin around his mouth you can grab onto.
When Levi’s fingers position at your entrance, knuckles slowly sinking in the gushing heat of your center, you scream, “Oh fuck! Oh my fucking god, fuck, I can’t—“
“Use your words,” he slurs his speech, entirely engraved in the feeling of your cunt squeezing the life out of his digits. 
“Feels so good,” you whine, nearly incoherent. 
It’s almost a perfect fit. Levi’s fingertips curl, pressing up into a spot inside you that leaves you utterly breathless, thoughtless. Shameless, even — your wanton moans make for a beautiful stifled orchestra against his lips. 
You don’t think you’ve ever felt this good before. Not with yourself, not with another partner, no one other than Levi. He strokes every right spot in your pulsing walls, though they pound and grip and writhe under his authority. It flows easily through the push and pull of your pleasure, allowing the meat of his palm to rub and grind against your throbbing clit.
You’re not sure if it’s the weed or Levi, but you’re about to cum. Embarrassing fast.
“Slow down,” you gasp, clawing at the skin of his neck, trying to ground yourself by whatever means you can.
“I know, I know,” he doesn’t relent. Instead, he fucks his fingers harder, faster, “But I’m selfish, sweetheart. I wanna see you cum, okay? Can you do that for me?”
You try to shake your head no, pleading with your eyes. You want this to last, you don’t want to give up this moment so easily. The speech is mangled on your tongue, the docile fire in your stomach churning into a raging inferno at rapid speed. You can’t move, despite your best efforts. You rock your hips, unable to control yourself, and sink your teeth into Levi’s plush bottom lip.
He moans, loud and obscene, “Squeezing me so fucking tight, so fucking wet. Cum for me, fucking cum. Cum for daddy.”
It happens all at once. Your limbs lock, your spine bends upwards, and every nerve in your body trembles. You scream soundlessly into Levi’s mouth, eyes wide open, you can’t even breathe. 
It’s earth shattering. It’s mind blowing. You can’t think. Your body pounds, heartbeat in your throat and brain thrown out the window. Then, the squeezing. You can feel every bend and curve of Levi’s knuckles, every circle he draws inside your soaking heat, the way he pins and grinds his hand against your pulsing clit. It’s euphoric, without a description. It simply just happens. You wouldn’t be sure you were there for it, had you not felt every inexpressible quake of your orgasm rip through you like a tsunami. 
“Good girl, that’s a good fucking girl,” Levi growls in praise, pressing his digits in as far as your cunt will allow him to go. 
Your eyes roll back into your head, the come down from your high so slow and agonizing in the way it feels as though it will never end. As if you’ll be suspended in your climax forever, or at least until Levi pulls his thick fingers from you, whichever comes first.
When your pussy finally releases the full range of tension, the shorter contractions allowing you to breathe, Levi continues to keep his rhythm. 
You whimper, overstimulated and way too sensitive to keep going at his set pace, “Can’t, too much.”
“One more, one more,” Levi’s eyes swirl, breathing erratic and heavy. “Just one more. Give me one more.”
“Want you,” you try, attempting to move your hips away. It’s so overwhelming, all of it, all of his attention, all of his touch, all of his motion. You feel tears prick behind your eyes, helpless moans stuck behind your teeth.
“After,” he responds, expression hard and determined. “I’ll fuck you then, just one more.”
You nod, sniffling as the pain begins to morph back into that mind numbing pleasure. He grins, wolfish and all too satisfied.
“Knew you could listen. Such a good fucking girl, my good girl.”
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LACHERI © 2022: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations.
677 notes · View notes
spstoui · 2 months
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God he’s so fine I wanna see my blood on his hands
1K notes · View notes
rinhaler · 4 months
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𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜
would you fuck your high school bully if you got set up on a blind date with him? if he was hot, probably, right?? ... right?
✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ ex bully!rensuke kunigami x f!reader
Genre: porn with a plot Notes: a concept that has rotted my brain for weeks now. ty to @chososdoll for beta reading as per ♡ Warnings: 18+, alcohol consumption, pro player!kunigami, pleasure dom!kunigami, consent check, overstimulation ♡, multiple orgasms (duh!), pussy eating ♡, fingering, slight nipple play, dumbification, size difference, vaginal sex, dacryphilia ♡, enemies to lovers?, pool sex ♡, skinny dipping, morning sex ♡, wake up blowjob, shush kink?, praise, reader has pubes! (landing strip), calls your pussy 'she', bullying mention, pet names (baby, princess). Words: 15.1k
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“This seems a little…”
“What?”
“Sad.” you laugh, repositioning yourself on the couch beside your best friend as you watch your fourth horror film of the evening. She tuts, but not before gesturing that she needed a refill on her wine. So, you reach over to the side table and start taking off the lid for her. “I don’t know. It feels a bit desperate, no?”
“No!” Maisie objects.
She can’t remember the last time she heard you gush about a guy. And honestly, neither can you. It’s been forever since you went on a date. And it’s been even longer since you got laid. You shake the thought away as you pour the red liquid into her empty glass.
You’re happy alone, for now, you think. It’s not like you feel lonely. Admittedly, it isn’t the best feeling when you have to listen to all of your friends talk about their date nights or cosy nights in with their partners. It isn’t the end of the world, though. Maybe happy is a strong word to describe how you feel.
You’re content being alone.
“I’m not saying you have to marry the guy,” she continues, lifting the wine to her lips when you finish filling her glass. “Just meet him. He’s so sweet, and he’s gorgeous!”
“You fuck him then!” you laugh. She takes the opportunity to flaunt her engagement ring that she hasn’t even had for a week yet. You roll your eyes, but laugh, grabbing her hand so you can examine it again. It is beautiful. Are you a bad friend? Because the stab of jealousy you suddenly feel is almost painful. “I’ve never been on a blind date. I didn’t even realise they were still a thing, why won’t you just show me him?”
“I promise he’s extremely sexy. Trust me, if I wasn’t engaged I’d definitely take him for a ride.” she giggles, and you laugh back at that. She has similar taste to you, so you’re sure you’ll feel the same way when you see him. It’s intimidating though. You’re putting complete faith in her that she won’t fuck you over. And then, you realise, you’re thinking about it as if you’ve already accepted. Maybe it’s a sign. You should just take the plunge. “I don’t want to tell you too much and spoil the fun, but—”
“I’ll do it.”
“Y- really?!” she wiggles a little closer to you in excitement, her wine sloshing in her glass as she approaches. “I’m gonna text him now! Eeeeeeek!” she squeals, putting her wine down and picking up her phone. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her fingers move so fast as she texts the mystery man.
You want to pry for more information, but you know her too well. She’s stubborn. And the blind date aspect for her is too exciting. There’s no use trying to get her to spill. Though it doesn’t stop you from attempting to extract even a slither of information.
“How do you know him?”
“He’s a client.” she pays you no mind, perfectly manicured fingers tap away at her phone as she formulates a text message.
You’re surprised, for multiple reasons. You hadn’t expected her to answer that truthfully, let alone with no hesitation. It came so easy for her to say; which means one of two things. Either, it’s true, or, she had a well-crafted lie prepared in case you asked that very question. But if it’s true… that’s interesting.
She’s a social media manager. And while her clients aren’t necessarily A-Listers, they aren’t exactly nobody’s, either.
“Oh my God, is he a footballer?” you smile, widely. She peers up from her phone and you find it hard to read her expression. She’s always had a good poker face, but you’ve known her long enough to recognise her tells. And when she licks her lips, you have your answer. “AH! Is he rich? Oh I bet he’s gorgeous, fuck, is he shredded? Like—”
“The horny jumped out!” she laughs, and you playfully hit her arm before laughing along with her. She doesn’t say anything else about it. Now, she is fully committed to the blind element of the date. “I’ll drop you off, I’ll tell him what you’re wearing so he knows it’s you. He said he’s free Thursday night, does that work?”
“Sure.”
“Great! So 9PM on Thursday.”
“Um…” you hesitate. Fucking 9PM? You know you aren’t that old, you’re in your mid-twenties for crying out loud, but that seems very late. You’re usually tired by 10 o’clock. But you refuse to risk her chastising you for being boring. So, you suck it up with a beaming smile, “Perfect.” it almost hurts to say.
She claps, enthusiastically, before picking up her abandoned wine glass again. You’re both silent, fixated on the movie. But you spot Maisie out of the corner of your eye finish her drink in a hearty swig. You don’t comment, though, still trying your damnedest to focus on the movie. It’s too late, though, you’ve missed most of the plot since she started plotting and preparing your upcoming date. You don’t dare break the silence, though. She looks utterly engrossed.
However your own attempt at concentrating is thwarted when you hear her glass land a little too harshly onto her coaster. It doesn’t smash, thankfully, but you’re both staring at each other after that.
“I haven’t got a fucking clue what’s happening in this.” she admits, and you laugh, agreeing. “Let’s go plan your outfit for Thursday!” she suggests, throwing the blanket you’re sharing off her body before walking hastily to your bedroom.
This is so her.
She’s more excited for this date than you are.
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“Deep breaths, you look gorgeous!” she assures you, holding your hand as you squeeze it again and again to calm your nerves. “For what it’s worth, by the way, he’s my sweetest client. He’s really respectful and kind, a lot of them can be rude but he’s never been like that.”
“Really?”
“Yeah! He’s really understanding.” she nods, eagerly. “Do you want me to come in and wait with you?”
“No, um… c-can you wait and let me know when he’s coming in? Or, just be here in case I get stood up.”
“Don’t even think that, he’s excited! He’ll be here. I’ll drop him so fast if he does, but I know he won’t.” she assures you.
You take another deep breath before smiling at her. She reaches over to give you a hug. It’s a tight, reassuring squeeze that makes you feel better for a fleeting moment. She waves like a child when you step out of the car, and she wolf whistles before you close the door.
If nothing else, at least you look good. You both agreed that there’s nothing like a little black dress, and your high heels accentuate your legs. They clack as you stomp across the pavement. And when you realise your steps are in time with your heartbeat you think it wise to slow down.
As the entrance to the restaurant comes into view, you look down the street and give your friend one final wave. Though, really, it’s meaningless. You know as soon as you sit down you’ll pull your phone out and start texting her in a panic. The maître d’ welcomes you with a beaming smile, checking the reservation list for the booking strategically made under Maisie’s name.
Still so committed to the blindness of the date.
It’s sort of exciting to think he doesn’t know anything about you, either. Though it’s scaring you slightly that he could take one look at you and turn around. And you won’t know until it’s too late. You won’t know until you’re being pestered to order after telling the wait staff that your date hasn’t arrived yet several times.
They’ll have to be polite despite how humiliating it is to tell you that other patrons need to be seated and seen to and you’re wasting their time. You’ll have to swallow your pride and leave. You can’t possibly eat alone after shouldering such a burning humiliation.
Oh God.
You text Maisie. And your fingers tremble as you type out the message. Telling her that you cannot go through with this and that you’re about to leave. A barrage of texts come through as she tries to give you a pep talk. But your anxiety flares and your leg begins to bounce as you try and shake the nervous energy from it.
Part of you thinks it’s best to stay sober, but your body is screaming differently. One drink won’t hurt, you decide, ordering two glasses of wine in case your date ever turns up.
And then you remember who he is. Or who he might be. He’s a client of your best friend, the social media manager. He must have some level of fame to need that representation. You’re pretty sold on the idea that he is likely a footballer. And through this thought process you manage to relax, if only a little. If he’s famous, he could be busy.
You decide to offer him some grace.
Though you should have given him the time to be really late before you got so worked up. You’ve only been seated for three minutes, after all. It’s not like he’s stood you up for an hour. You decide you’ll give him fifteen minutes before you leave. That’s a suitable amount of time to be able to leave and not look really foolish.
Every person that enters makes your heart race. Is it him? Only to realise it’s a couple or a double date or a family party in tow. You check the time on your phone, nine minutes have passed. Your cheeks fill with air as you puff it out slowly through pursed lips.
YOU: he’s not coming. MAISIE MOO 🐮: dw he just called me! he was stuck in traffic!!! YOU: rly? MAISIE MOO 🐮: yah! should be there any minute, have fun 😉
Your heart rate intensifies again as you see a man walk through the entrance and close an umbrella as he greets the maître d’. It prompts you to look outside, the windows are practically black save for a few lights on in the buildings across the road. But your eyes focus on the fat raindrops and their white outlines as they roll down the glass. How didn’t you notice the sudden torrential downpour?
Even from your seat at such a distance from the entrance you can see how large and well defined his hand is as he shakes raindrops from his orange hair. The colour makes you shiver, but you bat it away. It’s him, it has to be him. He’s alone, after all. And you see the maître d’ smile in your direction.
Hell, he might be happier that he showed up than you are.
You hear him laugh, and it’s deep, as he’s guided into the restaurant. And you can’t help but smile as you see him. He’s handsome, very handsome, and he has such a positive energy beaming from him. His face seems warm despite being chilled by the wetness of the rain. There’s pink in his cheeks and at the tip of his nose as he continues to smile kindly.
And, really, you’re speechless.
He smiles so sweetly, you almost didn’t recognise him, as he takes his seat opposite to you. And he thanks you for the wine. His eyes betray him as he looks at you with optimism. You know him, you’ve always known him. Those amber eyes that you’ve never seen in another man again since him. They seem so kind, now.
But you know better.
While he knows nothing.
“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” he grins, looking briefly over the menu. “I got stuck in traffic and then I had a hard time in the car park.” he laughs, his thumb indicating he’s referring to the multi-story car park down the road. The one notorious for its broken machines and confusing layout.
“Well, you’re here now.” you smile, weakly. Tipping the remaining contents of your glass until it flows between your lips. It goes down smooth and you almost feel it swim directly to your braincells, feeling slightly faint until your senses return to you again. You blink it away, and your eyes squint at him suspiciously. “Excuse me, I have to pee.” you tell him.
“Oh, sure.” he smiles. “Should I order for you if the waiter comes by? What would you like?”
“Are you paying or are we splitting the bill?” you wonder, taking his menu from his hand before he can even register that it’s gone. Your eyes scan the menu quickly, not looking for anything in particular.
“I’m old fashioned, so—”
“Great, then I want this.” you tell him, pointing to the most expensive meal on the menu as you place it back into his grip. He chuckles, gently, before looking up at you. Your smile filled with anger and malice as you turn on your heel to find the bathroom. “Oh, and an expensive meal should be paired with an expensive drink, right?” you tell him, leaving before he can respond.
He watches as you approach a waiter, asking where you can find the bathroom. They point you in the right direction. But before you go, you point towards the table your date is still seated at, telling them you’re ready to order. You ascend the staircase to the second floor and slip away into the bathroom and out of your dates line of sight.
Your heart pounds furiously.
Little hands shake as you search for your phone in your purse. Christ, you could use a cigarette right now. You feel light-headed as you take deeper and deeper breaths as you pull up your texts, your fingers tremble as you lean against the sinks.
YOU: do you hate me? be honest MAISIE MOO 🐮: ???? what’s wrong? Do u think he’s ugly? YOU: no he isn’t ugly. ANNOYINGLY. UGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! MAISIE MOO 🐮: … MAISIE MOO 🐮: what? YOU: do u remember me telling u about a school bully 😊 MAISIE MOO 🐮: stop it YOU: YOU SET ME UP ON A DATE WITH MY BULLY!! WHAT DO I DO?? MAISIE MOO 🐮: NOOOOOOOOOO MAISIE MOO 🐮: OMG OMG OMG IM SORRY MAISIE MOO 🐮: FUCK YOU: I told him to order me the most expensive stuff on the menu bc he’s paying.. so I might just eat and dip MAISIE MOO 🐮: stopppppp omg lmk when ur done I will pick u up im so sorry ily
You sigh, putting your phone back in your purse. Is that really the right thing to do? Maybe not right, it’s morally wrong, of course. But is it the best decision to make? Do you really want to sit and eat a meal you probably won’t enjoy with your former bully watching your every move?
“Fuck.” you whisper to yourself. You decide to pee while you’re here, and you wash your hands for longer than you intended. It’s distracting you from your worries as you stare at yourself in the mirror and feel the comfort of the warm water encasing your hands as you clean them. You shake them when your done, little drops of water landing back in the sink before you go to the hand dryer. Maybe you’re stalling. You’re definitely stalling as you realise you’re drying your hands for far too long.
With one final look into the mirror, you take a deep breath and decide to return to your date. He smiles as he sees you descend the stairs again. And instinctively, you smile back. It’s a habit you’ve developed, not necessarily a bad one. But in this instance, it feels like a betrayal to yourself. You tell yourself to remain straight faced as you sit down, pulling your chair closer to the table.
“I’m Rensuke, by the way. I realise I didn’t introduce myself.” he grins, beaming white teeth almost blinding you as he awkwardly holds his hand out for you to shake. “Sorry, been a while since I had a date.” he laughs as he puts his hand down.
“I know who you are.” you laugh in return, though it’s not because of what he said. You just can’t help but find yourself amused over the fact he doesn’t recognise you. He laughs, too, looking a little uncomfortable all the while. He scratches his head as he nods, coming to his own conclusion.
“Oh, right. You’re a football fan, then? Sorry, you didn’t strike me as the type.” he continues, assuming you’re familiar with him through his fame. You hold your eyes shut for a beat too long, an annoyed smirk creeping its way onto your face as you try to bite your tongue.
“Sure, let’s go with that.” you comment, taking a swig from your newly filled wine glass. He cocks his head in confusion, but drinks with you. “So, why are you here? In London, I mean. I assumed you’d be… not here.” you ask, unable to control your tongue. There’s venom in your words, but not enough to kill.
“Um, I—” he clears his throat, coughing into his balled-up fist. His honeyed eyes find yours again, an incredulous look appears on his face as he formulates his thoughts in his mind. “I feel like I’m being set up.” he chuckles, though you can sense the worry behind his voice.
You take another sip from your wine glass. A sip turns to a glug as you empty the red liquid from the crystalline glass. You refill it yourself; sensing things are about to go south very quickly.
“This wasn’t really a blind date, right? Maisie told you who I am and you wanted to meet me. Am I right?” he wonders. And at that, you do scoff. And now you’ve lost all interest in holding your tongue.
“Oh my God. You’re so full of yourself, you haven’t changed at all.” you tell him, crossing one leg over the other as you rummage through your purse in search of a cigarette that will never appear. “I had no idea I was being set up with you. If I knew that, I wouldn’t have agreed.” you tell him without remorse. Defeated, you throw your purse down to the ground by your feet.
There’s a sense of shame flaring within you that you couldn’t keep it together until the end of your date. Of all the people roaming planet earth right now, why did he have to be your blind date? You stare at him as you observe his confused expression, he’s utterly bewildered by your words.
“I’m… we’ve met before, huh? I’m sorry, I’m having trouble remembering. I— are you a fan? Or… were you?” he asks, trying to decipher your identity. You scoff, again, preparing to stand to your feet. He reaches across the table and grabs your wrist. You look down at his large, veiny hand and then into his eyes. Your own vibrating with a slight twinge of fear. You feel like that teenage girl all over again.
“Let. Go.” you warn him, voice quiet through your gritted teeth. He relinquishes his hold of you instantly, apologising profusely. He’s just confused about what he could have done for you to hold such disdain for him. But your warning replays in his mind like a record on repeat. It’s like his fractured memories are forming again, becoming whole as he hears your voice again and again.
Let go.
You sounded so much weaker back then. You’re more defiant, now.
“Are you Ryusei Shidou’s little cousin?” he asks, eyes widening and brows raising in excitement. You sigh, sitting properly in your chair with correct posture as your eyes look angrily at him.
“No, I told you—”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re not really cousins your families are just close. I remember.” he smiles. His eyes almost dazzle as he looks at you, all recollection of his past hits him like lightning as he repeats your name again and again like a mantra. “Is that really you?”
“It’s really me.” you repeat, sarcastically. “Cancel the food order, you can still pay for the wine.” you tell him as you pick up your purse and prepare to leave.
“What? Why? We should catch up!” he tells you, an expectant look on his face as he hopes to convince you.
“I don’t want to catch up with you?” you tell him.
“But… why not? It’s been so long since we saw each other.”
You signal the maître d’ when you finally catch his attention. Rensuke looks disappointed as you continue to ignore him. Instead, you alert the man that you’ll be leaving early and to cancel your orders. But you make sure to tell him that Rensuke will happily cover the bill. And he does, hastily pulling out a wad of cash from his wallet as you depart the restaurant. He hurries after you, he’s in slight disbelief when he realises how fast you are. You’re almost halfway down the road when he finally exits the restaurant.
“Slow down!” he calls out to you, running right up behind you until he’s walking at your pace. He opens his umbrella and holds it above your head as you carry on walking. “You’re gonna get sick if you keep this up.”
“Leave me alone.”
“At least take my umbrella.” he requests, “I’ll go to my car and leave right now if that’s what you really want. But at least take it while you wait for a ride home.”
You accept, not too proud to take something that might offer you a small comfort in the absolutely obscene downpour plaguing the city. How quickly you’ve transformed from a vixen to a drowned rat. He must be loving this.
“I really would like to catch up with you, y’know…” he smiles.
You look up at him as the rain soaks his gorgeous gingery locks dampening and sticking to his forehead. Maybe he has changed. It’s been years after all. He’s grown up, it’s plain to see from his chiselled jawline alone. And he was always big back then. One of the tallest guys in your class, and so big and beefy to boot from playing so much football and training in the gym.
He terrified you.
And now, he’s bigger. An inch or two taller and completely filled out into an even more muscular physique.
“I can take you home, too. You don’t need to talk to me if you don’t want to… but, it’s freezing. You’ll be waiting ages for a taxi or for Maisie to come get you.” he speaks softly. And unfortunately, he’s right. You know all too well how tough it is to get taxis around this time, but it would be worse if it was the weekend so at least you’re thankful for it being a Thursday. You want to decline. You’re so ready to decline.
But for some reason—
“Okay.” you nod. You walk ahead, though, leaving him behind as you walk to the parking complex you’re pretty confident that he used. He laughs, hurrying after you again and allowing you to lead the way. It seems you know the area way better than him.
He guides you to the elevator and to the top floor of the complex. You aren’t sure what you expected when you step out. It’s not like you’re familiar with cars. But you were expecting some kind of expensive sports model. A Ferrari or something. Instead, you’re greeted to a black Range Rover.
It’s definitely outside of your pay grade, but you can’t help but feel a little disappointed.
“I thought you’d have a nicer car, Rensuke.” you decide to goad him, thinking it’s the least he deserves at this point.
“This is my incognito car.” he smirks, looking over his shoulder at you as he unlocks it. Of course he has an incognito car. You huff a little as he helps you up and into it, closing the door behind you. He circles around the back and you see him looking around in the boot before he comes to the driver's side and sits behind the wheel. He gives you a towel, presumably used for his training days, and tells you to dry off. “My nicer cars are at home, sorry to disappoint.”
“Oh, wait…” you snicker as a thought comes to you. “Were you gonna try and pretend you’re a nobody if I didn’t recognise you?”
His face fills with a pink hue as he feels completely caught out. And you can’t help but burst into hysterics. It’s tough for him, meeting girls who will actually like him for him and not his bank account. When Maisie suggested a blind date, he thought it was as good a chance as any to try and form a natural connection.
“Anyway, I’ll take you home now.” he tells you, trying to change the subject. “Sorry the date didn’t go to plan.”
You huff, again, as you try to dry your skin with the towel. Eventually you give up and use it as a horribly soggy blanket. “I can’t believe you even wanted to go on a blind date. Girls used to throw themselves at you in school. I told Maisie a blind date seemed really desperate.”
“Did we go to the same school? I was a virgin ‘til we left.” he informs you. You look at him, surprised, and he nods to clarify. “I was focused on football and shit, didn’t have time for girls.”
“Well, you had time to bully one girl.” you remind him, regretting saying it instantly. You thought confronting him would feel better than this, cooler. Like you can finally get closure and make him feel almost a fraction as bad as he made you feel back then. But instead, really, it just feels… cringe.
He offers a weak smile at you. The tension could be cut with a knife as he pulls out of his parking space and drives down each floor. He wants to say something, and really, so do you. Maybe you should just let the hatred go. It was a really long time ago, after all.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t a good guy back then, but I like to think I’ve changed a lot.” he speaks, eyes focusing on the road as the street lights and car beams blind him in the rain. “Your cousin bullied me, y’know. Dunno if he ever told you, but I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair though, so I’m really sorry.”
“He is not—”
“Yeah, yeah. I got it, princess.” he smirks, “I wouldn’t want to claim a relation to that blonde freak either.”
The insult towards Ryusei makes you laugh. You’re still close with him to this day, and ‘blonde freak’ is the perfect descriptor. But you don’t like to think of him as being capable of bullying. You had a feeling that was why you were subject to Rensuke’s torment each day, but you didn’t want to discover the truth. He always made it a point to vilify you for being related to Ryusei. Though you adamantly denied it each time.
“So, you were a prick to me for being related to someone I wasn’t even related to?” you respond, seriously. It’s a hard pill to swallow. Though you’re unsure any answer to his bullying would have made you feel better. It hurts to know you suffered so much, ultimately, for nothing. “Wish I told him you were picking on me, he would have fucking killed you.”
“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” he laughs a little. It’s soft, but not weak. It’s almost like acceptance. As though he deserves anything and everything you’ll throw at him. “We’re good now, though, if we’re in the same place we’ll meet up for drinks. He’s a fucking good player, too. Always admired him. He kept me in my place for a long, long time.”
You stare at him as he speaks. How have you never noticed how soft his features are? He’s so relaxed, peaceful. He looks at you briefly when he notices you staring, but just as quickly looks at the road again as his cheeks fill with heat, reddened with embarrassment.
“I was immature…” you start, looking down at your shivering, wet thighs as you decide to accept your own faults, too. “It’s been a long time since then. And we were young, it’s obvious that you’ve changed. I didn’t give you a chance and I was childish.”
“No, no—”
“I’m serious. Ordering the most expensive stuff and going off in a strop, that was really immature so... I’m sorry.” you tell him, and he smiles at that. He can’t help but think you’re a great girl. He looks over at you again, smiling so widely his eyes close.
“You never gave me your address, y’know.” he reminds you, laughing when the realisation hits you that you’d let him drive off with no real destination in mind. “Is it too late for that catch up?” he wonders, looking at you with hopeful eyes. The orange and brown colour tainted with sparkles of red as the stop light reflects from them.
And you’re powerless.
You find yourself agreeing before your brain can even keep up with the way you’re shaking your head. No, it isn’t too late. And his smile is almost as blinding as the headlights of each car in the road illuminating the falling raindrops and deep puddles forming in the street.
“I know where we can go…” he thinks to himself
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Bowling.
You never thought you’d be coming somewhere like this. Truthfully, you feel like a kid again. You remember skimming some money from your daily lunch allowance given by your parents to save up enough to go to the arcade every weekend with your friends. Saving the extra coins to use the DDR machine.
Let’s just say you mastered Captain Jack on expert difficulty.
“Another strike? You’re too good, puttin’ me to shame.” Kunigami laughs before picking up a ball and preparing for his turn. “You better not tell anyone you thrashed me; my reputation will be in tatters.” he warns you, jokingly.
You watch him as he takes a swing and hits all but two pins, leaving an awkward split between them. You hear him mutter under his breath but can’t decipher whatever it is he was talking about.
For some reason, you feel like he’s going easy on you. It’s not like he was a stranger to the arcade either back in the day. You always scarpered whenever he showed up with his friends, deciding it was the perfect time to grab a bite to eat and hope by the time you were done they’d be gone.
“I wouldn’t have invited you here if I knew you were gonna show me up like this.” he smiles, sitting next to you after completing his turn. “I didn’t know you liked bowling, thought you just liked using the dance machines.”
“You remember?”
“Yeah, uh,” he chuckles and scratches the back of his neck as he recalls the memories from way back then. “Me ‘n Raichi, remember Raichi? Anyway, girls on the dance mats… well, we were teenagers, so—”
“Oh my God you’re so embarrassing.” you interrupt him to put a stop to his stuttering.
“Look, it was a sexual awakening that’s all I’m saying.” he laughs. “And you were the best one, never missed a step. I remember we used to watch you for ages before we came in to scare you away.”
“Disgusting. Pair of perverts!” you lightly smack his arm as you continue to tease him. “I was good, though. Wonder if I could still pull it off…” you look at the machines in the distance as you contemplate restoring your former glory, you feel a newfound sense of confidence as you think about Rensuke finding you attractive back then.
You decide to go for it.
He follows you as you approach the machine, standing on the second player arrows right next to you.
“Always wanted to try!” he shrugs as you look at him suspiciously. “You can teach me.”
“No, I can’t.” you laugh, slotting two-pound coins into the machine so you can both play. “It’s just memory and hoping your feet will respond in time. Good luck, though.”
“Yeah, sounds like you have real faith in me.” he rolls his eyes, throwing his coat over the red metal bar behind him and rolling up his sleeves. You quickly kick off your high heels as you scroll through the songs. You hover over Captain Jack, and his face lights up as memories of you back then flow through his mind. “You always did this one. There was a different one I remember liking, though…” he tells you.
He starts to scroll through the songs, listening to them carefully as he searches for the one he remembers. Your eyes widen in horror as he settles on one, and he looks at you with pride.
“This one!” he exclaims, loudly.
“No, no way. I could never get the hang of it and I’m even more out of practice now. Afronova is too hard it won’t even be fun!” you warn him, but he wiggles his eyebrows at you teasingly. “Let’s do it la—” he interrupts you by pressing the select button.
“It can’t be that hard.”
“You put it on the hardest difficult, idiot. We’re fucked!” you laugh, but get into position. You’re both definitely going to fuck it up, but at the very least you’ll get a good laugh out of seeing him eat his words.
All colour drains from his face as he sees all of the arrows immediately come into view on the screen. He barely knows where to look let alone where to plant his feet. He looks at your side of the screen, though, seeing you miss a fair few moves yourself but you manage to keep up the pace enough to earn some words of praise from the machine.
If you’d know you were going to be doing this, you definitely would have worn a bra. You hold your arms across your chest as you continue to jump and follow along with the arrows as best you can. Kunigami, however, decided to give up and watch you instead. He puts his feet down a few times on ones he think he might actually be able to get.
You’re left panting by the time the song comes to an end and your final foot stomp leaves you breathless. Rensuke claps, proudly.
“Fucking hell.” you gasp for air, leaning over the red bar behind you. You think you might actually throw up. “You dick, you barely did anything either.”
“I was captivated by the master at work, you were amazing!” he praises you, and you can’t help but giggle. “I think we should do an easy one next.”
“Agreed…” you respond, flipping through the songs until you land on 5678 by Steps.
You both laugh and joke as you easily follow along with the routine on baby mode. And it’s easy to keep up a conversation with him like this. Discussing more memories of spotting each other in the arcade and what you got up to on weekends.
It makes you sad, in a way. Knowing how sweet he is now and what he was capable of back then. You could have been friends, great friends. Maybe even best friends. Though you’re sure Raichi wouldn’t have liked that.
He allows you to pick your favourite song for the final round. And, naturally, he can’t keep up with you. But this time he actually does his best. But for you, it’s like muscle memory. You don’t miss a single step through the whole routine and you don’t even feel out of breath when it’s over. Kunigami however is sweating and panting again, his already wet hair sticking onto his forehead again as the sweat clings to it.
“It’s getting late.” you tell him, “Should we get some gross bowling alley food and call it a night?” you wonder, moving to pick up your discarded high heels so that you can decide what to do.
He rushes by you and hops off of the step, snatching your shoes up before you can. You watch him, nervously, as he gets down on one knee while holding your black pumps. You’re too speechless to object when he helps you slip your feet back into them, so delicately. And he smiles up at you from his lowly position as you gain another six inches of height. He holds his hand out to you, helping you down the step after you take it.
You exhale, deeply, after feeling how unbelievably soft his hands are.
“I think I’ll get a hot dog.” he thinks, not letting go of your hand and he leads you up the small flight of stairs and into the eating area.
“Oh, the burgers were good last time I came here.”
“Ohhhh fuck you’re right, I’m getting one too.” he laughs, ushering you into a secluded spot to sit down. “What do you want to drink? I’ll run up and order everything now.” he smiles.
You quickly look through the drinks menu and tell him you want a strawberry and lime Kopparberg. He nods approvingly at your choice. You watch him walk up to the bar to order, unable to take your eyes off him. He’s chatty with the bartender, and you wonder what else they’re talking about. You see him grab a pad of paper and a pen from behind the bar, handing them over to Rensuke. And he smiles, happily, signing it for him. You see the man thanking him over and over before Rensuke walks back over to you.
“You only just got recognised?” you tease him.
“It’s rarer than you’d think, y’know.” he laughs, “he said his kid is a fan. No big deal.” he shrugs, sliding your drink over to you.
He moves on from the subject of his fame and status in favour of complimenting you again. Telling you how talented you are and how fun it’s been hanging out with you again. You end up telling him about your job. It’s nothing fancy but pays the bills. You tell him about how you pretty much fell into the job of doing admin work for a law firm and now you’re training to be a solicitor.
His face lights up as you tell him. Like he’s proud. Or maybe it’s a twinge of relief that he didn’t fuck you up mentally enough to ruin your life. Either way, his smile is contagious. It only grows wider when your two plates of food are put down in front of you. And you hate that you’re trying to eat politely. There is absolutely no way to eat a dirty burger in a ladylike manner. He laughs at you when a dollop of ketchup drops on your chest and tries to slither down your cleavage. But, ever the gentleman, he cleans it up quickly with a napkin.
“Sorry,” he hesitates after realising how intimate it is. He hands it to you and you finish clearing your chest. “Good call on the burgers, though, they’re so good.”
You smile as you chew your food, still doing all you can to appear polite and demure. But he doesn’t mind, or care. Canines tear his burger apart with ease, and he can’t seem to stop himself from smiling each time he looks at you.
“So,” you start, putting down the final bite of your burger in favour of taking a swig of your drink. “You perving over me, did that affect the bullying?” you wonder, laughing lightly as he almost chokes on his food.
“I wasn’t perving, it was, I— ugh. I always thought you were cute. But I wasn’t about to tell you that.”
“You thought I was cute?”
“Oh, like you didn’t have a big fat crush on me? I heard the rumours.” Kunigami laughs, drinking his beer as he leans back into his seat.
“No, no, rumours and hearsay. I told one girl I thought you were hot on our first day and it turned into a game of broken telephone and spread like wildfire. I hated you!”
“Sure, sweetheart.” he winks before taking another drink. “Don’t worry, I can keep a secret.”
You shake your head, opting to finish your burger instead of disputing it further. He does the same, leaning back and sighing with relief before taking another drink. He slaps his stomach, as if he’s gained a beer bellying rather than possessing the rock-hard abs that you know reside there.
“This was fun. Really fun.” he tells you, crossing his arms over his chest as he continues to get comfortable in the booth seat. You nod, agreeing. “What are we calling… this?” he wonders.
“What do you mean?”
“Was it just a ‘catch up’ or could it still have been a date?” he asks, smiling when your eyes widen and your face flushes with heat so much that you feel the need to fan yourself. You tell him that you’re just hot from eating, but another cocky eye roll tells you that he’s not buying that. “I’m hoping you’ll say it was a date, if you were wondering.” he speaks, low and gravelly as he leans across the table to tell you.
“Well, it was technically a date. Just not the location we’d planned.”
“I enjoyed this a lot more.” he tells you, looking around at all of the arcade machines and the people bowling in the distance. “I go to snooty restaurants a lot, I don’t get a chance to relax like this as much. So, thank you.”
“R-Right, no problem.” you smile, unsure of what to say. “I guess we should get going, then.” you finish, gathering yourself and clutching onto your purse as you prepare to shuffle out of the booth. He looks a little deflated, then, but he follows your lead.
He puts his arm around you as he guides you to his car, helping you inside again. He even gives you his jacket to wear when he notices you shivering. Though you opt to wear it over yourself like a blanket.
You look out of the window as he climbs inside and shuts the door. The rain stopped while you were bowling, but it’s still so dark out. It’s damp and dreary, it’s just miserable, really. But the cold chill of staring out into the black abyss leaves you when Kunigami turns on the radio. Some generic pop music you’ve never heard in your life, and it makes you feel old and out of touch. But the face he pulls says the same story, and he begins flicking through other stations until he hears something he recognises.
“S-So… do you live nearby?” you ask him, curiously.
“I do! Just got a new place a few weeks ago, I’m still unpacking.” he smiles as he envisions all of the moving boxes still piled up in each room. “So where am I taking you?”
“If you go to Maisie’s office I can direct you from there.” you tell him, clicking your seatbelt into place as he pulls up directions on his phone to the office. You look out of the front window when you hear raindrops begin to pitter patter again. “Um… Rensuke…” you start, hesitating to speak as you wonder what the fuck you’re even thinking of doing right now.
“What’s up?” he asks, eyes darting to you before he starts the car. The only thing that can be heard is the light drops of rain. It makes your skin jitter, you feel a chill as you look at Kunigami, the rain rolling down the windows in your peripheral vision and you feel thankful to be here and not out there.
You feel desperate. And you’re sure you’re going to humiliate yourself, but you don’t want the night to end. In a million years, you never would have pictured yourself enjoying the company of Rensuke Kunigami. He’s a busy man, you’re sure. He fit you into his busy schedule and you’re sure he has better things to do than spend all of his free time on a date. A date that is supposed to be drawing to a close.
But you don’t say that.
In fact, you barely say anything.
He can’t help but smile, though, knowing exactly where your next destination will be.
“I don’t want tonight to end, either.” he confesses. You feel your body become lighter as you realise he feels the same way. He starts the car promptly, and you note how sure he is about where he’s taking you. “Can I show you my new place?” he asks.
He’s so cocksure as he says it. His eyes don’t meet yours and you sense it’s because he knows you’ll say yes. And who are you to disappoint? You’re curious, anyway. You wonder if it will be as impressive as you’re envisioning in your mind. Footballers are rich, aren’t they? But maybe he isn’t a high earning player. Either way, you’re curious to see the home that your former bully has worked so hard for.
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You lose track of time as you pull up to his house. Or mansion, you should say. He’s allowed through the security gate currently being manned by a member of staff, and he drives up and towards a three door garage. You can’t believe you’re visiting somewhere like this, it feels like a dream.
It’s something Maisie is accustomed to, Rensuke even tells you how confidently she strutted around and didn’t even bat an eyelid when she came over to discuss his contract. But you’re left speechless as more comes into view.
He doesn’t bother parking in the garage, pulling up directly to the stairs leading up to the front door. He’s out first, doing a little jog around your side to open the door and help you out.
“I didn’t bring you here to brag, by the way.” he insists.
“And here I was thinking you were trying to woo me into bed.” you laugh, and laugh harder the redder his face becomes. He holds his hands up defensively, waving them dismissively as he tries to assure you that was not his intention.
“I’ll take you home right after if you want! I swear I wasn’t—”
“Relax! I was teasing you.” you tell him, bumping into him as you enter the mansion. He offers you a drink, which you accept, happily. He pours you a glass of wine but gets himself some water directly from the tap. “You aren’t drinking?” you question, feeling a little uncomfortable that you’re drinking alone.
“I won’t be able to take you home if I drink more than I already have.” he chuckles, handing your wine to you.
He drinks his water, and you take a sip of your wine. His smile, that beautiful smile, it’s so disarming. You’re tottering on your heels to walk by his side as he encourages you to follow him. You feel as though time is flying when he takes you from room to room. There are still moving boxes in each room but it doesn’t detract from the lavishness of it all.
You laugh when he tells you there’s a tennis court out back.
“What are you going to do with a tennis court?” you giggle.
“Play tennis, I suppose.” he laughs back.
You don’t mind even a little when you feel his cold hand come into contact with the even colder skin between your shoulder blades. You mind even less when his hand snakes down your spine and settles in the small of your back as he guides you to the next room.
“Oh wow…” you express, hit by the warmth of the room. Your heels clack against the tiles with each step you take. You leave his side as you get closer and closer to your target. And you scream, smacking Kunigami’s arm as he rushes behind you and presses his fingers into your sides. “An indoor pool… you’ve really fucking made it.” you tell him, and he shrugs.
“There’s one outside as well.” he informs you.
“Now that was a brag.” you laugh.
“Shit, was it?”
“Absolutely.
You crouch down to the balls of your feet, letting your fingers swim through the pristine pool water. You aren’t quite sure how to describe the colour of it, but it’s mesmerising, as if sage and turquoise paint mixed specifically to fill this pool.
He takes your hand and encourages you to stand upright again. And he doesn’t let go as he leads you out of the room. The thought of going back to your poky apartment after being in here is harrowing.
It almost feels like he’s doing charity work.
There’s a rumble outside that causes you both to stop in your tracks. And once you enter the living room again, you see the heavy rain pouring down violently on the windows again. It’s louder than before. The raindrops are weightier.
He squeezes your hand as you yelp after seeing a bolt of lightning pierce through the sky. You look up at him, eyes full of grace as those honeyed eyes warm your soul for the umpteenth time tonight.
“There’s a weather warning from The Met Office…” he tells you as he checks the time on his phone. He lets go of your hand to look at you again, unsure of what to say. “I can take you home… before it gets any worse…” he whispers. His voice betrays him, though. You can hear the voice of a liar interspersed with his desperation to be a good guy.
He doesn’t want you to leave.
You don’t want to leave, either.
“It’s… dangerous, though…” you start, looking out of the window again at the gloomy weather.
“In that case…” he bends down, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “You should stay.”
You mewl, softly, as he not-quite kisses against your ear and the smooth skin behind it. And your head tilts, for him, so that he can press one final kiss against your neck. You don’t want it to stop, but he withdraws himself with a cheeky smirk while your eyes are heavy with lust.
It’s been so long.
Too long.
You might have lived your whole life up to now without being kissed like that.
He curls his finger, instructing you to follow him back upstairs. You put down your wine glass and hurry after him. He doesn’t wait, this time, leading ahead as he brings you to one of the bedrooms.
“Wait here.” he commands, and you do.
You walk up to the standing mirror against the wall and check yourself out. Trying to make sure you makeup hasn’t smudged or there isn’t food in your teeth. Your hair is still soaked, but that can’t be helped. When he walks back into the room you quickly back away from the mirror as if you’d been caught doing something wrong.
“The bathroom is just opposite to here.” he reminds you, pointing.
You look down at the pile of items he brought in from another room. There’s an unopened three-pack of toothbrushes and a brand-new tube of toothpaste. You can’t help but smile when you pick up the rolled-up ball of white, fluffy bed socks.
And you hate to admit how your knees go weak when you realise he’s gifted you with his football jersey to sleep in for the night. There are shorts, too, but you doubt you’ll need them. You want to keep your dress on for as long as possible. You’ll just sleep in the jersey and your panties when you’re ready.
“Thank you.” you smile at him. You notice the tips of his ears and his nose turn a blush pink as he sees you holding up his jersey and modelling it against your body.
He doesn’t say anything as he leaves the room, giving you the space you need to do whatever it is you’re planning on doing. You take the opportunity to freshen up, you pick up the dental hygiene products he’d thoughtfully left for you and head to the bathroom. You catch his figure slipping into his own bedroom and closing the door behind himself.
Your mind runs rampant now that you’re truly alone. Look where you are. You’re brushing your teeth and preparing to spend the night in Rensuke Kunigami’s house. Sorry, mansion. How the fuck did this happen? Your heart begins to race. Are you actually going to fuck him?
You can’t.
You can’t.
You can already feel your inner child cussing you out for letting him kiss you like he did, no matter how brief it was. It helps, slightly, to tell yourself you have a reason to spend the night. The weather. It would be dangerous to drive in weather like this.
But, Christ, you can feel your cunt throb with want as you think about him railing you in every room of the house.
“Stop.” you whisper to yourself.
You finish brushing your teeth and spit into the sink. And that is when an idea hits you. You splash your face with water and find some cleansing wipes in the cupboard underneath. You start getting ready for bed. Because that is what you should be doing. Sleeping, alone, until you can go home.
When you’re done clearing your face you decide to slip into the clothes Kunigami gave you to wear. Even the ill-fitting, downright hideous shorts.
You emerge from the room, and see Kunigami appear again with a wide smile.
“Hey—”
“I think I’m gonna go to bed.” you blurt out, awkwardly, and Rensuke stops in his tracks.
“Oh… really?”
“Yeah I’m… tired.” you lie, already turning back into your room. “Goodnight.” you call out, not bothering to look at him as you’re already shutting the door behind yourself.
“Goodnight.” he replies, the disappointment in his voice doesn’t go amiss.
You can’t.
You just can’t.
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You can’t fucking sleep.
It’s closing in on midnight when you check the time, and you have a multitude of texts from Maisie blowing up your phone. You can’t bear to respond, though. Not after all of the horror stories you told her about Rensuke. The thought of her knowing that you’re spending the night at his house is just embarrassing. Even though it is innocent enough. You didn’t even kiss, really. You’re just sleeping until morning.
But you can’t sleep.
Your mind is racing with ideas of what could have happened if you didn’t say goodnight. What else could you have gotten up to if you hadn’t had your responsible brain hardwired in. You’re thankful for it, you are. But just because it’s responsible doesn’t mean it’s always right. Right? It’s been so long since you’ve gotten fucked.
Are you depriving yourself over something so trivial?
You throw off your duvet and prepare to leave the room. You’re not looking for him. In fact, you’re hoping he’s asleep, like you should be. But if he catches you roaming the halls, you’ll just tell him you were going to use the bathroom.
The corridors are cold. The chill in the air caresses your no longer covered thighs, you discarded the shorts barely any time after you said goodnight.
You aren’t sure where you’re going, you only have the flash from your phone to light the way. You’re sure he wouldn’t mind you turning the lights on, but you don’t want him to catch you if he is awake. And you don’t want the light creeping into his room to disturb him if he did actually manage to get to sleep.
When you find yourself in the same room as the swimming pool, you have no idea how you even got here. It’s like you were summoned. It’s a mermaid’s lagoon and you were drawn in by a sirens song.
You can’t remember the last time you swam. It’s not like the weather is ever nice enough for it, and you hate public pools. But this… it might even help you feel tired enough to sleep.
You look behind you and approach a set of loungers.
As you’re about to pull Kunigami’s jersey over your head, you screech. The sound of breaching water echoes through the room and you turn around, sharply, to see the source.
“Are you okay?” he bellows, his voice reverberating through the room. “Were you looking for me?”
“Jesus Christ,” you yell, laughing soon after. “I- I couldn’t sleep. You almost gave me a heart attack, I didn’t even know you were in here!” you tell him, truthfully, and he laughs. He swims under the water from one end of the pool to the other. You stand at the edge when he comes up for air again. “I just couldn’t sleep.” you confess, though it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself. Your voice is quiet and mousy so that your words won’t carry throughout the room.
“Me neither.” he tells you, looking up at you as he does. You notice his eyes stray, catching a glimpse of your panties under his jersey before he shamefully looks away. But he looks, again, as he admires you in his jersey. “Why can’t you sleep?” he asks, the sound of water pouring is boisterous as he raises his hand and pats the edge of the pool.
You look at it, his hand, and understand what he’s doing.
You can’t.
You can’t.
But you do. You crouch down, submerging your lower legs in the warm liquid while it ripples against the back of your thighs and ass. Your breath hitches when you feel his hand on your thighs and raking up the sides. He stands up, his forehead resting against yours as water cascades from his soaking body.
You can’t bring yourself to care when you feel it splash up against you.
The only thing on your mind is how close he is.
“Why can’t you sleep, baby?” he tells you in hushed tones. The weight of his words and the way he speaks them makes your body limp. But he’s there to keep you upright. He angles his head so that his eyes, those honey pot eyes, can focus on you. Your words die on your tongue as you try and formulate a lie.
One won’t come.
“Why did you say you were going to bed when you weren’t tired?” he whispers, again, and you feel your resolve begin to crumble. He’s like an archaeologist, meticulously brushing at an ancient relic that he has no business handling.
He should have left you be.
“I… I don’t know, Rensuke.” you lie. And it’s an awful lie. He’s grinning from ear to ear as he hears you struggle to think of anything better than that. He knows. You both know. That’s why you can’t object when he pulls you closer. His hands force your legs around his waist. How did you get here?
“You look good, princess,” he tells you, tugging gently as his jersey, looking down at the strip that drapes like silk over your cute tits and perfect frame. “Want you to have it…”
“But it’s yours.” you respond. You’re a little taken aback by how demure your voice is as you speak. It’s like you’re instinctively making yourself small for him. Your inner child is protecting you, still to this day. He shakes his head at your words, though.
“It’s yours, I’ve got plenty.” he assures you. He keeps a tight grip of your thighs as he begins to walk you further into the pool. You wrap your arms around his neck and will yourself to remain some semblance of control. But he smirks, his nose touching yours before he pulls away again. “You’re coming for a swim… do you want to take it off?” he wonders.
Your eyes widen in horror as you recall your decision to decision to forgo a bra, knowing it would ruin your outfit. You shake your head, defiantly.
You can’t.
You can’t.
“I’m not wearing anything underneath…” you inform him. He chuckles, at that. In his mind, he knows. And deep down, you know it too. If you don’t find your willpower soon, your bare-naked form won’t be an issue. He closes his eyes and holds them shut, laughing when you repeat his name a few times in an attempt to get him to open them again.
“Take it off, ‘m not looking. You can hide under the water.”
Your movements are halted but for barely any time at all. He has a way of making you submit to anything he wants and you aren’t sure why that is. You were so mad at him hours ago. You didn’t even want to have dinner with him.
But look at you now.
Your legs are wrapped tight around his waist and you’re throwing his football jersey away. It doesn’t land on a lounger, but near enough. And you hold onto his shoulders as he begins to walk you both deeper and deeper into the pool. You don’t want him to feel you, not like that.
It’s getting out of hand.
You can’t stop it.
You can’t help it.
“You can open your eyes.” you tell him, and he stops walking. His eyes slowly open and it takes an incredible amount of restraint for his eyes to not wander beneath the water. And, you feign innocence. You aren’t sure what is wrong with you, because you know you shouldn’t have. But you look away, pretending something in the distance has piqued your interest.
You give him the opportunity to leer at you.
And he’s so thankful.
Even submerged and obscured by the greenish, dithering water, your body looks like an oil painting. To him, you’re a work of art and he’s grateful that you’re even letting him experience you in the slightest. But this… you’re a masterpiece, he thinks.
“Hey,” he speaks, he moves a hand from your thigh to your chin and you cling to him instinctively. He guides your line of sight back to him, looking back at you with a serious stare. “You don’t need to fight me, you know.”
Your heart practically stops at that. At the very least you think it skips a beat. But you hold his stare, eyes vibrating as you look between his as you search for an explanation. Are you truly so easy to read?
He sees you wrestling with your conscience. He doesn’t want to intervene, but what else can he do? He pulls you closer to him, a surprised whimper leaving you as you feel your bare chest come into contact with his.
It doesn’t register to him, though.
You don’t fight when his lips begin to trail your own. No pressure is applied, but you’re breathing is heavy. And he can’t deny that his is matching your own.
“I’m not seventeen anymore.” he reminds you, quietly. Your eyes weld shut and your self-preservation begins to scream at you. Imploring you to have some fucking common sense.
You can’t.
You can’t.
“I know…” you confess.
You look at him briefly, giving him silent permission to proceed. And he takes it. Without hesitation he takes it as his lips capture yours in a sweet kiss. You feel like you’re in a romance novel as it continues. It’s polite but not entirely tame. And for you, it’s been entirely too long since you last kissed anyone. You feel him smile into the kiss when he hears the softest little moan crawl out of your throat. But it fades, fast, when he remembers how lucky he is to be experiencing this.
He doesn’t deserve it.
He doesn’t.
And so, he takes it seriously. He brandishes the plumpness and texture of your lips to the forefront of his mind as you allow him to continue. He implants the way your body arches into his as his fingers trace up the curve of your spine, and how your mouth parts ever so slightly when he reaches the nape of your neck.
You’re perfect.
“Has it been a while? Since you had sex.” he asks, quietly, like it’s some sordid little secret. You feel embarrassed when you register what he’s asking. The insecurity creeps in and you try to pull away. He doesn’t let you, though, pulling you closer and reaffirming his interest with another searing kiss. “You’re so responsive, baby, that’s all.” he tells you.
You kiss him again.
And you feel pathetic. Like a dog humping a stuffed animal as you begin to instinctively roll your hips against him as you beg for more.
“Feels like forever…” you confess, hiding your words into another kiss and hoping he’ll forget you even uttered them. You hear him grunt when you sensually slip your tongue between his lips. He reciprocates, licking at yours as he carries you to the edge of the pool again. “W-What about you?”
You regret asking. Of course, the answer won’t be the same for him. He’s gorgeous. Beautiful, in fact. He’s rich, famous, successful. You’re another in a long line of women who throw themselves at him when given the opportunity.
You certainly aren’t naïve enough to think otherwise.
“Since I had sex? Not too long ago.” he responds, and it’s effortless. You knew. You fucking knew and yet you’re still feeling hurt. And you feel ashamed of yourself in the same breath. It doesn’t matter, really, you know who came before you and who came before him are irrelevant to what’s happening right now in this moment. But still, the feeling of embarrassment lurks. “I don’t remember the last time I fucked anyone the way I want to fuck you, though.” he finishes.
And now, you’re ravenous.
Your lips find his again. And the politeness has died, drowned in the pool along with your morals and self-respect, you figure. Your fingers grab and pull at whatever they can find. One hand finds purchase on one of his biceps and digs and squeezes into the hard flesh. The other tugs and pulls at his hair residing just above his undercut.
And he moans when you yank his pretty orange tufts. He breaks the kiss, laughing, for a moment after he recognises what you just stole from the pits of his lungs.
You feel your ass come into contact with the edge of the pool as he sits you down in the middle of a kiss. He breaks it, sinking down further into the water until you’re looking down at him. Your heart rate quickens as you feel deft fingers hook into the waistband of your panties.
And you can’t control your body, moving on autopilot as you lean back and keep your legs together as he steals the black lace from your body. He has no regard for where they land, but you hear a faint splash as they float on the surface of the pool. You won’t see them again, you think. They’re soon to absorb the chlorinated water and sink to the tiles framing the pool.
You sit back upright but find yourself unable to meet his eyes again. Instead, you stare up at the ceiling as he gently pries your thighs apart one by one. He’s slow, and careful, as he parts them. Soaking in the sight of your intricate folds.
“Pretty everywhere, huh? So fuckin’ pretty…” he expresses. You feel his thumb drift along your inner thigh to your pubis. A soft, low chuckle escapes him as it comes into contact with your pubic hair. A perfect landing strip guiding his eyes to your scintillating cunt. “You did this for me.” he states. He doesn’t ask, he tells you. And your eyes snap back to look down at him, defensively splashing him with water.
“I didn’t know it was going to be you,” you remind him. “I wanted to be prepared in case I—”
“But it was me.” he interrupts, wrapping his arms around your thighs after wiping the excess water from his face. “You’re letting me see. So it’s all for me, princess.” he continues. You don’t have a response, despite his logic seeming broken at best. It’s for him, now. But had you known who would be walking into that restaurant…
His breath fans across your heat as he places his thumb at the top of your lips and pulls back the hood of your clit. You gasp, letting your head sink as you lean back on your hands and rest your weight on them. And he spits on it, sucking at it soon after.
“’h my God…” you start, moving a hand to his hair, threading your fingers through damp, orange strands as he continues to suckle at your clit.
You’ve lost the means to feel embarrassment anymore as he looks up at you with his head buried between your thighs. Though you can’t deny the hot flush you feel as he makes a holy show of flattening his tongue between your lips and licking upwards from your oozing hole to your still exposed clit.
But you lose him, again, as he decides to focus.
He didn’t think he could burrow any deeper between your legs until you feel his still hooked arm drag you closer to the pools edge. You tug at his hair again when he finds his rhythm, and he emits another grunt that vibrates throughout your sex.
You admire how his muscles flex as his grip around your thighs intensifies. He feels how your hips begin to buck, like you’re getting there. Like he’s helping you get there but you’re still trying to run from him.
You can’t.
Not anymore.
He looks up at you with golden retriever eyes as you begin to moan. It’s quiet, until it’s not. Quiet, secretive breaths begin to turn into sinful, saccharine moans that echo right back to you as they bounce from the walls.
His nose wiggles and nestles against the perfectly formed line of your pubic hair. It tickles, but he’s always had an affinity for landing strips. It’s nothing he can’t handle. And it’s something that drives him wild.
You clamp your legs around his head as you start to dance along the cliffs edge of your orgasm. But he parts them, easily, his veins bulge in his hands as he grips tightly into the doughy flesh of your thighs.
“Ren- Rensuke—!” you cry out, unable to even warn him before he’s already dragged you into toe-curling bliss. And he prolongs it, divinely, not altering his ministrations even as you begin to shudder and scream. “S’too much, Rensuke, f-fuck…” you pant, looking down at him as he finally begins to slow down.
“’m not done, though.” he warns you. He liberates your left thigh from his grasp, but his fingers lightly trail down your inner thigh and he can’t help but marvel at the sight of your sensitivity. You twitch and spasm from the lightest of touch.
Though the whine that rips through your vocal chords is just as delightful. You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t even predict it when you felt two thick fingers seamlessly slot inside of your clenching entrance and curl up against your g-spot.
“Fuuuuuck, no, Rensuke, c-can’t.” you warn him, partially succumbing to light headedness as you feel him hone in and target your squishy slippery inner walls without remorse. You’re shivering. You’d like to think it’s just the exposure of wet skin to the stormy air, but it’s too much. You know it’s too much.
“You think too much,” he tells you, head sinking low again to continue feasting upon your gorgeously ruined flesh. Your pussy pulsates through the recent orgasm and the overstimulation. He’s going to be disappointed when he realises you can’t even fathom the idea of cumming again.
You just can’t.
Your body goes limp as he nudges a particularly delicate spot and presses down on your lower abdomen. The moan that leaves you at the feeling is downright pornographic. You can’t see, you can’t feel, but he’s smirking. He doesn���t relent, but his ego and his cock swell with pride as that salacious fucking moan plays on repeat in his brain.
The hand applying pressure ventures up north of your body. And your cunt clamps down on his fingers as his adventurous hand grabs the fat of your breasts and gropes your flesh. You moan, weakly, with no energy left in you as he tweaks at your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.
You’re pathetic, you think.
It was this easy for him to reduce you to this.
But you can’t help it. Your body is spent and you can feel another orgasm climbing through your nervous system. And yet, despite being wrecked, your body still finds the energy to clench and groan as you feel pleasure surge through you. Your toes curl, again, before they spread and widen and you try and gain some sort of control over what Rensuke is thrusting upon you.
Another scream is torn from you as you fall, no, you’re pushed from what seemed like a higher cliff than the first. Your back arches from the tile and further into Kunigami’s titillating touch.
“Rensuke, I- I…” you aren’t even sure what you want to say when you begin babbling. You manage to rest your weight on your hands again and look down at him. He showers your inner thighs with adoring kisses, they’re sweet and loving and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were falling in love.
He pulls his fingers out of your spasming walls and looks up at you. Your jaw is agape, slightly, as you feel him spit a perfect glob of saliva onto your clit without even looking. He needs to stop. You shake your head as you see the gears turn in his brain and you catch up almost instantly. You try to pull his wrist away but you’re weak.
“C-Can’t, Rensuke… no more!” you tell him, despite trying to sound firm, you just sound pathetic.
He can’t stop.
So he doesn’t.
He rubs the two fingers that were inside you just moments ago repeatedly over your throbbing clit. The smile sprawling across his face is that of a menace. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He thinks he knows your body better than you do.
And, hell, he might.
You say you can’t.
But why are you moaning for him?
“Doin’ so good for me, princess.” he tells you, kissing your inner thigh again as he continues his assault. His eyes droop as he admires how tender and overstimmed your pussy is. You can keep going, though. He’s sure of it. “You moan really pretty when you cum… ‘n I can tell she likes attention.” he speaks, it’s gruff but somehow still soft. He doesn’t look at you right away after he speaks. Instead his eyes remain focused on your tremoring cunt.
“I’m— I c-aaaan’t. Anymore, no more, ‘mmm hmrmf…” you struggle to even make sense in your mind of what you were originally trying to say as the nonsense you actually spouted takes root in your brain. He laughs, shallowly, as you try to reason with him.
You can’t reason with him, though.
Not when he knows better and your cunt is betraying your weak will.
“Goin’ dumb for me ‘cause you feel too good, huh?” he chuckles, tilting his head as he tries to command your focus on him. The way every inch of your skin trembles with pleasure makes his cock leak like he could never imagine. He’s glad he’s in the water so you can’t see what a pathetic mess your pretty noises alone have him reduced to. Though he makes a mental note to get the pool cleaned tomorrow. “Don’t need to think when you’re cumming. Jus’ cum for me. Can tell she wants to… just let go, princess.”
“Haah, hn- hnnnnng—!” you finish with a cry, you can’t believe he’s managed to make you cum three times in such quick succession.
Even as an adult, Rensuke Kunigami has found a way to reduce you into a sobbing puddle.
He frees you, eventually, allowing your body to catch up to what has just happened. He finally lets you close your legs and allow your twitching quim to recover, alleviating the pressure between them.
He hoists himself out of the water, though. And he climbs effortlessly above you. And, really, you know he’s always been a big guy. It’s arguably his most defining trait. But fuck, like this, while you’re shivering and spent, he’s fucking massive.
“Do you want to stop?” he asks. The soft, caring voice contrasts completely with his all-consuming presence. He lowers his head to kiss between the valley of your breasts and down to your navel. But he stops short and looks at you again. “We can, if you want. But… I’m having fun with you.”
You should answer. He’s asking for consent, after all. Your lips part and reseal repeatedly as you try and decide on what to say. You’re having fun, too. But can you handle it? Can you handle more of this?
“You’re so… big.” you whisper, and you don’t know where that even came from. You giggle when you see him smile at your silly comment, and he immediately has a retort spring to mind.
“My cock matches, y’know. Why d’you think I made you cum so much?” he tells you. “Well… I like making pretty girls cum anyway, but you’ll thank me. If you wanna keep going, that is.”
“I want to fuck… want you to fuck me, ‘Suke.” you admit. He lifts your back away from the cold, damp tiles and pulls you into his embrace. You receive one final, show-stopping kiss from him as he pulls down his swim shorts. You keep your eyes on him, not having the confidence to look down below.
He grabs your chin, his thumb helping tilt your head and guiding you to look at his length. And, embarrassingly, you gasp. He chuckles, kissing your forehead and you look between him and the impressive size he possesses. It’s scary, honestly, looking at how thick and heavy his cock is and what it will feel like inside.
There isn’t a doubt in your mind that you’ve never seen a dick like this and you surely won’t again. He’s big, thick. And long to boot. His tip is prominent but soft. Like you could suck it into your mouth and hear a pretty pop sound once it’s in. You could run your tongue along the ridge and make him hiss from the pleasure.
The thickness is akin to an energy drink can. Eight long inches threaten to invade your apparently well-prepared walls, but still, you aren’t so sure. His veins aren’t prominent, but they’re there. You see them running along his shaft in different directions. And then you do find one. One throbbing, prominent vein as you admire each and every inch of his heavenly member.
You’ve never had an affinity for balls. Seeing them as a nuisance that are just there rather than anything you have any interest in pleasuring. But for him. For those. You could be persuaded. They’re heavy, God they look heavy but every inch of him does. He’s a large, imposing man and his balls are no exception.
It turns you on to no discernible degree to think about how full and aching his balls must be after you’ve teased him all night. How they’ll tighten and release as he floods you with his cum when he’s through with you.
“Need you, Rensuke, n-now.” you tell him, unable to function without feeling him inside of you for a second longer.
A brief panic shoots through your veins as he pulls you back into the water like a siren. But he stops short of pulling you to your death.
At least, in the literal sense.
You might experience your fourth little death as soon as he sticks his tip in you.
The water sloshes around you as you’re pushed into the pool wall. Your legs sit comfortably on his hips as he guides his still leaking cockhead into your greedy cunt. You moan in tandem as you become accommodated with each other.
“You’re so cute, s’fucking tight, princess.” he tells you, silencing any response you might have had with an ardent kiss. You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you. And it’s calculated, of course, as he pushes further and further into your sticky walls.
It wasn’t enough.
Three wasn’t enough.
The thickness of his length would have you screaming if he wasn’t keeping a firm grasp on the crown of your head so you couldn’t pull away to voice how the stinging stretch was affecting you.
He doesn’t let go until he’s in. Fully in. You feel him kiss your cheeks and now you can finally moan, pant, screech if you so choose. But as your breathing comes out in hiccupped sobs, you realise he isn’t kissing your cheeks.
He’s kissing away your tears.
“Took me so well, gorgeous.” he mutters against your skin, still continuing to softly peck his lips against your damp skin. “You’re so good… such a good girl, princess. I’m so proud of you, bein’ so good f’me tonight.”
It makes you cry more, though you aren’t sure why. You can barely think about what he was like back then. When he was cruel and callous for no viable reason. But you’d never have heard such sweet sounds from him like you’re hearing now. You’re a good girl, and it’s for him.
Your tongues tangle into a clumsy fervour as he starts to move his hips. The sound water lapping at your bodies is deafening. He lifts you up, slightly, so that he can pound himself into you without restriction.
Both of you find it hard to keep kissing romantically and consistently the harder and faster he batters his cock against your insides. Your lips touch but your mouths hang open. And he’s looking at you. Really fucking looking at you as he drinks in every facial contortion you make from the feeling of his cock bullying itself against your self-destruct button.
He loves the way you bite your lip when you’re close. How your eyes cross and you look so damn wet and pathetic as he brings you to ruin again. It’s a sight he’d have tattooed on the back of his eyelids if he could. He’s been around the world and still couldn’t name a more beautiful sight.
Maybe you could be a porn star, he thinks. If both of your careers fall through, he knows what a good fallback will be if you were so inclined. You’re perfect. Every inch of you, top to bottom, is perfect.
You can barely hold onto consciousness as you feel his heavy breeder balls slap relentlessly against your ass. But you hang on, you have to when he grabs the lower half of your face and pinches your cheeks until your lips pucker.
“Is my good girl about to cum?” he asks, and you nod, dumbly. “That’s it… stay with me. Wanna watch your pretty face while you cum again.” he orders.
You breath faster, fighting against the crushing urge to close your eyes and let go of your body completely. But you’ll do anything he asks, in this moment, so long as he keeps calling you a good girl.
“Can I cum inside?” he asks, thrusts increasing in pace as he jackhammers into you. He’s close, too, but he wants you to cum first. It’ll tip him over the edge if you cream him like this. It’s all he wants. It’s all he needs. “Or should I p-pull out?” he struggles, the thought of spraying your body with his seed appeals to him just as much.
“D-Don’t pull out, Rensuke, don’t you dare…” you command. “Hnf, ah, I’m! Haaah, aah, f-fuck—!” you finish.
“Shit, shit.” he follows you right after. It seems that he would have came inside whether you wanted him to or not. “Ohhhh, fuck, baby. Fuckin’ perfect pussy… take it.” he finishes, too, his pace only slowing by a fraction as his cock spurts rope after rope of pearlescent cum into your cunt.
The sound of water calms after some time. The waves lap around you, carefully, as you breathe and sweat after such a vigorous workout.
It surprises you, a little, as he kisses you after the fact. You thought he’d turn a little colder after he got what he wanted. But you underestimate him again, clearly, as he kisses you sweetly.
“That… amazing.” you tell him, not possessing the energy to fill the rest of the sentence. The start and end are enough for him to figure it out, though. And he cradles your body in his arms as he walks you both to the shallower end of the pool with the staircase. “’m so tired.”
“I know, baby.” he hushes you, you feel like a child in his hold. You’re so little in comparison and you’re still surprised he didn’t break you. He manages to effortlessly pick up his jersey and walk you towards the pool room door. “Gonna get you cleaned up, ‘n we can go straight to sleep.” he promises.
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You can’t remember the last time you got such a good nights sleep. Really, you barely remember even falling asleep. You remember Rensuke washing your body and your hair in a warm bubble bath. But you don’t remember him putting you to bed.
Waking up in his arms was a nice feeling, though.
So nice you felt compelled to wake him up with a reward.
He stirred in his sleep as you began to kiss down his bare chest and further down his body. He’s a light sleeper, you came to realise, as he woke up with a cheeky smile on his face and asked what you were doing.
You took his cock between your lips and showed him just how thankful you were for his attentive treatment and aftercare from last night. And you may have wanted to give him a reason to remember you if he wanted to consider going on another date.
He got close.
Really close.
Until he pulled you away to sit on his cock.
“’m not wasting my cum in your mouth when I can cream this cunt again.” he smirks, helping you straddle his hips before lowering yourself down onto that perfect fucking dick again. And he watches you ride him, his jersey riding up slightly with each rise and fall of your hips.
“L-Love your cock, Rensuke, s’fucking big.” you moan like a slut with no remorse. You can’t act coy anymore. Not after last night.
“S’all yours, baby.” he tells you. His attention is stolen from observing your enjoyment when he hears a buzzing on the side table. He reaches for it, and you don’t even notice while your eyes are screwed shut.
And he realises it isn’t his phone.
It’s yours.
He moves slightly, so that he’s sitting upright, covering your mouth as he answers the call. Your blood runs cold as you feel the cold glass of your iPhone screen pressed against your cheek and your ear. Your eyes widened in horror as you look down at Rensuke for help.
“Hello?!” Maisie.
He uncovers your mouth, allowing you to speak. “H-Hey, Maisie.”
“I texted you so many times, where have you been? Did you get home alright? I was so worried!” she yells at you. You can tell she’s in her office pacing back and forth on the tiles as her heels click with each step. She’s pacing. She’s furious.
“S-Sorry! I was just, it was a weird night!” you try and answer simply without lying or giving too much away. But your heart quick starts again as Rensuke holds onto your hips. You're mouthing and no no no! Butit’s ignored as he nods sadistically. He holds tightly onto your hips until your flesh spills between his fingers. And he fucks. You whimper pathetically as you seal your lips in a bid to keep quiet. He really is a sadist, he looks like he’s going to cum to the sight of you desperately trying to maintain your composure.
“I cannot believe I set you up with your old bully, that is so my luck.” she laughs. “Did you just get a taxi home?”
“A-Ah! Uh, yeah I know, c-crazy.” you struggle. “S-Sort of. Eliza was in the area so she picked me up.” so much for not lying.
“Oh, really? That’s good.” she replies, though the click clacking of her heels comes to a stop. “Weird, though, considering I rang all of the girls to see if any of them had talked to you. None of them did.”
“T-That’s… weird.” you reply, eyes rolling back as you try and maintain a level head and think of a way to get off the call. “Um, I uh—”
“I’m at work, just looking through some of my client's details. I’ve got Rensuke’s address up on my screen right now.” she starts. Oh fuck. “You know what else is on my screen?”
“W-What?”
“Find my fucking friend you little slut! Oh my God!” she screams, though you can’t tell if she’s actually screaming or if it’s melded into laughter. “Did you fuck your bully? You whore!”
“I— It’s complicated, nngh!” your free hand flies to your mouth as you spasm through another mind-altering orgasm shatters through you. Rensuke keeps a firm hold of your hips as you tighten around his cock. You hold the phone as far away from your face as you possibly can, though it doesn’t matter. Not when Rensuke cums in you again with no regard to his volume.
“Oh… my God.” Maisie speaks, though you barely hear it. You bring the phone back to your ear and sigh. You already know you’re busted, there’s no point in hiding it now. “I thought I heard a mattress squeaking. Have you just fucked?!”
“Hmph… yeah. Sorry.”
“I’ll pick you up later if you need a lift, I want all the details you absolute slut.” she laughs, sitting down in her office chair as she actually starts to do some work. “How was the date though, was it good?” she asks, knowing she’ll have to go soon.
You look at Rensuke’s pink, sweaty face and wide smile. You melt into the way his thumbs stroke into your sides so tenderly. And you smile back at him, a newfound confidence you’ve never felt before.
“It was… fucking amazing.”
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© 2023 rinhaler
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mechamedusa · 1 year
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☆ THE ACCIDENT - BAKUGOU x FEM!READER
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“You said you want to work off the debt,” he lowers his lips to your ear, his voice reduced to a breathy growl, “I can think of some work for that bratty little mouth.”
☆ SYNOPSIS | You hit pro hero Dynamight’s car and can’t afford to take care of it. He gets an idea for how you can work off the damages — but you gotta do it right here, right now.
☆ WORD COUNT | 6.5k
☆ RATING | nsfw +18, minors & ageless blogs dni!
☆ CONTAINS | dark content, (extremely) dubcon, noncon elements, blackmail, degradation, humiliation, breath play, lots of spit play, oral (bkg receiving), rough facefucking, public / voyeurism kinda, nonconsensual photo, fantasizing, use of degrading names (bitch, whore, slut), bkg is an overall asshole + physically intimidates reader
☆ A.N. | this is extremely self-indulgent lol — and also my first time posting a fic, kinda nervous ! i have plans for this to become a series ~ hope you enjoy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
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You would never admit it out loud, but you tended to be a distracted driver. After a long day of work, it was easy to slip into the comfort of your own mind as you sped down the mostly empty highway. Your fantasies kept you company on the drive, the haze of daydreaming like a plush blanket for your tired mind. It was nice — it made the drive go by faster, but it meant you probably weren’t as attentive of a driver as you should be.
That’s why, as you’re making the commute home through the back roads like you always do, you don’t notice the army green sports car barreling towards you from behind in the next lane over. Engrossed in whatever fanfiction situation you’re cooking up in your mind, you start to merge into the right lane, anticipating an upcoming turn. You glance at your rear view mirror as you do, not bothering to look over your right shoulder or put your signal on — you hadn’t noticed any other cars on the road with you for miles anyways. Except there was another car on the road with you and it was going way over the speed limit, racing into your blind spot before you can get a glimpse of it.
It all happened in a split second — you couldn’t even register exactly what had happened. The piercing sound of tires screeching and metal scraping fills your ears, then you’re gripping your steering wheel, desperately trying to keep control of your car as it veers off of the road and into uneven dirt. You press your foot on the brake instinctively, your steering wheel jerking in your grip as your car lurches over the dirt then finally comes to a harsh stop that makes your body hurl forward from the momentum.
You pant, your heart fluttering in your chest and the high of adrenaline keeping you from forming a coherent thought. Your eyes dart down to your body and your hands finally come off of the steering wheel — you had been gripping it so hard it hurt — so you can pat yourself, looking for any sign of injury. No pain, no blood — you sigh, relief setting in. You realize your airbag hadn’t deployed, so you reach up and pull down the visor above you, flipping open the mirror and inspecting yourself in case you’d injured your face when you’d lurched forward. All seems fine — except for the man you finally notice in your mirror stomping up to your car.
You quickly put your car in park, unbuckle your seatbelt and jump out. The man is already yelling, arms gesturing wildly as he rounds the driver’s side of your car.
“—fuckin’ IDIOT, what are ya fuckin’ BLIND?! Don’t know how to use your damn signal, or are ya just STUPID?!”
You put your hands up in surrender as the man continues his ascent, “I-I’m sorry,” you squeak, “I didn’t see you—“
“No shit sweetheart, ya didn’t even fuckin’ look!!”
He’s in your face now, your back pressed against the side of your car as he towers over you. You’re not exactly a tiny person — you’re pretty average sized, actually — this guy is just huge. The sleeves of his black t-shirt strain against his bulging muscles as he points sharply behind your car. “Look at what you did to my car,” he growls, his face inches from yours as you flinch away from him.
You turn your gaze towards where he’s pointing and finally see it — an expensive looking dark green sports car with bright orange racing stripes decorating its side. It’s parked slightly perpendicular to the road, the front of it angled downward, having been driven into a ditch. The driver’s side door is still ajar from when the man had thrown it open, and music blares over the car speakers — angry rock music that’s all rolling drums, gravelly guitar rifts, and deep guttural vocals. This car looks luxurious next to your weathered Honda Civic, all suited up and shiny — except, of course, for the gnarly scratch all along the driver’s side. You wince at the sight, and the man in front of you laughs, but there’s no humor in it.
“Yeah, see that shit? I should wring your little fuckin’ neck!”
You look back at him, the adrenaline rush kicking in again. This man has some audacity. You stare him defiantly in his crimson eyes, straightening up with new-found courage. Cowering under an asshole man was not like you, after all.
“What the fuck is your problem?! The ‘roids really hittin’ today or what?”
“You little —“
“You need to fucking relax dude. And back the fuck up off me!” You emphasize the end of your sentence with a shove, planting both palms on his firm chest and pushing as hard as you can. All your strength barely moves him, but his eyes widen for a split second in shock and he takes a small step back.
You’re able to get a good look at him now that he’s given you some distance. His ash blonde hair is unruly and dense, sticking up at odd angles. His facial features are angular and cat-like with high cheek bones and an intensely sharp jawline. He is very muscular, his shirt pulled so taught against his chest that you can see the definition of his pecs. His biceps have to be about the size of your head and his forearms are thick, tattoos covering his left arm down to the elbow, protruding veins running down to his clenched fists where silver rings decorate his fingers.
Your eyes travel lower. He’s wearing gray joggers that hang low on his hips, and even though they’re slightly loose you can still tell how muscular his legs are underneath. He moves to adjust his sweats, and down his right pant leg a faint outline bobs against the fabric.
You snap your eyes back up to his face and are met with an infuriating smirk. His red eyes look down at you, still filled with fiery rage — and something else you can’t quite place.
And that’s when you recognize him.
“You’re Dynamight.”
His resolve cracks, his smirk turning down into a grimace.
“You’re fucking Dynamight,” you continue with your own smirk now spreading across your face, “Mr. golden boy pro hero Dynamight! Holy shit — I wonder how the commission would feel about you threatening a civilian. I wonder how the internet would feel about you threatening a woman!”
“Look, lady —“
“No, fuck you! I’m sorry I hit your fuckin’ car, but you have no right —“
“Yeah, you hit my car,” he barks at you, rage taking over once again, “so don’t get all fuckin’ high and mighty with me! D’you know how much that custom paint job is gonna cost to fix?!”
Your face falls and he sneers, lip curling up to reveal a sharp canine as he continues berating you.
“You wouldn’t fuckin’ know with your shitty little beater! So I suggest you shut your fuckin’ mouth and get me your insurance and ID, now! And don’t make me ask twice.”
You’re biting the inside of your cheek now, taking in just how royally fucked you are. Your insurance payments are already almost more than you can afford, an incident like this was sure to really screw up your finances. You could try to leverage exposing him and putting in a complaint with the commission again to get him to let it go but, if you were being honest with yourself, you knew it wouldn’t really be that much leverage. You knew about Dynamight — how he was notorious for being a huge dick, to say the least. He must already have a phone book full of complaints, and yet he was still one of the top pros in the nation. The commission clearly didn’t care enough to properly discipline him, and no matter how many videos of him cursing out civilians surfaced on Twitter, his merch still always sold out in minutes. The man was damn near untouchable.
“Well?” he says gruffly, pulling you out of your thoughts, “I’m waiting.”
“I…” you trail off, looking down at the floor as you deflate, “would rather not get insurance involved. Can we settle this between us? I’ll pay for the damages out of pocket?”
Dynamight laughs that unhumorous laugh again. “Oh yeah? Gonna pull ten racks out of your ass to fix that custom paint job? That orange color was formulated especially for me — they call it Dynamight Fuel Orange. Costs a pretty fuckin’ penny. You got that kinda money lyin’ around?”
You’re looking at him now, eyes wide, and he’s crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk. That stupid fucking smirk, it makes your blood boil — but you have to negotiate with him, try to be nice about it. Maybe he’ll take pity on you.
“Look, Dynamight, sir…” you say softly, noticing his eyes darken a bit at the moniker, “you’re right, I don’t have that kind of money. But I also can’t afford to have my insurance go up right now….”
He snorts, not faltering as he starts to pull his phone out. “Not my problem, sweetheart. If you don’t wanna give me your information, I’ll just call the cops —“
“Please, no!” You’re invading his space before you realize what you’re doing, putting your hand on Dynamight’s forearm to stop him from fishing his phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants. He looks at you wide eyed, surprised by the intrusion, but doesn’t pull away from you. You stay there like that, your small hand gripping his taught forearm as you crane your neck to look up at him. “Please, Dynamight. There has to be something else I can do. I can work off the debt somehow…”
Bakugou looks you over as you prattle on, listing ways in which you might be able to exchange free work for his mercy. Your boldness has surprised him twice now — how fearlessly you had yelled at and pushed him earlier, and now, how easy it was for you to get in his space and grab him. You were a fiery little thing and your insolence infuriates him, but it also makes him a bit curious about you.
He takes in your face — the way your eyes look at him with such conviction, darting around when you’re trying to gather your thoughts, then looking up into his eyes again without fear. He watches your tongue dart out to wet your plump lips, the way you take your lower lip between your teeth when you’re trying to choose the right words. He notices the slight blush on your cheeks, whether it was from your closeness or the summer heat he wasn’t sure. He hadn’t noticed before, completely blinded by his own anger and adrenaline, but you are… honestly cute.
He looks down further, taking in the slope of your neck and the way your collarbones are only partially visible, disappearing under your shirt. Where he’s standing, he has a perfect view down your v-neck top. Your breasts are sitting pretty, skin glistening from the light sheen of sweat that’s developed, protruding then receding slightly as you take quick breaths. He can see your bra from this angle, the way it hugs your chest and hides away more than he wants it to. Your bra is black, lacy.
He wonders if your panties match.
Something you’re saying grabs his attention, making him turn his gaze back to your face.
“I’m a teacher. That’s why I can’t afford —”
Bakugou snorts, “They let you teach kids dressed like that?”
You look down at yourself, confused. What was so offensive about your v-neck and jeans? “Yeah? It’s Friday, we’re allowed to dress casually on —“
“Your tits are practically fallin’ out of that shirt,” he says, his lips curling up into a smug smile as your head snaps back up, mouth agape. You finally let go of his arm, moving your hand to cover your chest.
“Y’know what, fuck you,” you’re turning back towards your car now, fuming again, “I don’t need your misogynistic bullshit. You can just have my insur—“
Bakugou grabs your wrist suddenly, pulling you along as he stomps back towards the front end of his car, which is still sitting in a ditch. You claw at his grasp, stumbling along behind him. “Let me go, asshole!” you screech, unable to shake his vice-like grip. He pulls you down into the ditch with him, then reels on you, a crazed look in his eyes that makes your breath hitch in your throat.
“Looks like my front bumper’s dented too,” the blonde says, voice low and gruff. Your eyes dart over to his bumper — but there is no dent. “W-where? I don’t see a —“
Without letting go of your wrist, Bakugou turns, brings his knee up high towards his chest, then launches his foot down onto the shiny front bumper of his own car. The metal crunches under the force, leaving behind a brand new dent as his foot returns to the dirt floor.
“See it now?”
His expression is different from the anger you’d seen earlier — it’s completely unhinged and it’s scaring you now. The wild look in his eyes paired with the menacing grin spread across his face is making your skin crawl. You shrink under his gaze, trying again to pull from his too-tight hold on your wrist.
The way you’re trembling and pulling away has Bakugou stiffening. The pure unadulterated fear he can see in your eyes as they widen, replacing the defiant gaze you had had just moments ago — it was absolutely delicious. He was just going to let insurance handle this little mishap, but you just had to be a brat, thinking you could stand up to him. Now he was going to put you in your place, and Gods know he was going to enjoy it.
“Looks like the bill just went up, sweetheart,” he spits the pet name, like it tastes bad in his mouth. “Your insurance ain’t gonna like that. Do you even have a plan that will cover this much?”
You’re stammering now, eyes welling up with tears as you try to push his hand off of your wrist. He’s gripping you so hard you’re certain his fingertips will leave bruises in your skin, his hold temporarily immortalized on your body. He pulls your wrist into his chest, and you’re forced to step forward into him. You’re so close now that you can feel the heat coming off of his firm body, you can smell the musky-sweet scent wafting from his skin — his face so close that you can see the gold specs littering his crimson irises, his breath fanning across your face.
“You said you want to work off the debt,” he lowers his lips to your ear, his voice reduced to a breathy growl, “I can think of some work for that bratty little mouth.”
With that, Bakugou’s grip snaps from your wrist to the back of your hand and he pulls it down towards his crotch, closing his hand over yours and forcing you to grab onto his half-hard cock through his sweats.
A sound of protest starts to leave you but gets caught in your throat when you feel it — the action so swift and so bold that your brain can’t fully process. You look down at where your hands are joined, as if to check if this is really happening, then back up at the red eyes that are boring into your own. Dynamight’s pupils are blown out, dark voids starting to overtake the crimson, and a fiendish smile plays on his lips. The look in his eyes is wild, hard, cocky — you realize he’s fully enjoying this display of power and he’s daring you to defy him. Something about him leering over you, making you feel like nothing more than prey to this well-trained predator, has you… completely turned on.
He’s moving your hands around slightly now, pushing and rubbing at his dick through the cotton fabric. You can feel it starting to stiffen, growing in your hand. It’s not even fully hard yet and you can tell that it’s big — bigger than you’ve ever had. You know you should pull away, scream at him, jump in your car and take off, but you just can’t. You’re frozen there, entranced by the feeling of him growing in your palm and completely hypnotized by the sadistic gleam in his feline eyes. Your body is starting to heat up, your face flushing, a familiar tension growing between your thighs that makes your head fuzzy.
“Well?” Comes Dynamight’s gruff voice, ripping you from your thoughts. “I ain’t got all day. Want me to let the damages go or not?”
Your voice comes out small, weak. “H-here? Right here?” Your eyes dart around at the road, half expecting to see cars lined up on the side of the road, a crowd forming silently to watch you defile yourself for this asshole. But there’s nobody, no cars as far as your eyes can see.
Bakugou grunts in response. “Did I stutter? Get on your knees.”
You know you shouldn’t do this. This road was usually pretty desolate, yes, but there was still the occasional car or semi-truck that blew through. Who’s to say they wouldn’t see? Who’s to say they wouldn’t slow down and snap a picture? Somehow the thought, as mortifying as it was, had a knot forming deep in your core — was it humiliation you felt, or arousal? Or was it the dizzying combination of both?
You don’t protest, your mind swimming with desire and the possibility of getting out of this situation scott-free. You just lower yourself, eyes on his as your knees come to rest on the hard ground. Dynamight snickers — there’s nothing he loves more than winning. “That’s what I fuckin’ thought,” he breathes, “What are ya waitin’ for? Pull my dick out.”
His harshness is a spell and you are fully enchanted — if he told you to throw yourself into traffic in that voice, with that look in his eyes, you might just do it.
You mutter an “alright, asshole”, but move to follow his orders anyways. You hook your fingers into the stretchy waistband of his joggers and pull down, his half-hard cock bouncing up at you with new found freedom — he isn’t wearing boxers. His dick is so pretty (because of course it is), sitting long and weighty between his shredded legs. The white shaft has faint blue veins running along it, the light pink head smooth and shiny in the sunlight. He’s well groomed, his balls hairless and taught against his body, the dark blonde curls above his shaft trimmed and trailing up delicately to disappear under the hem of his shirt.
“Ya ever sucked a dick before?” comes the snide voice above you, “Gotta do more than just look at it, princess.”
You glare up at him, snatching his dick up in your right hand and giving it a sharp tug. He lets out a small groan, stepping forward a bit involuntarily. His cock is now right in your face, so close you can smell his musk and see a bead of pre cum leaking from his tip. He’s hardening quickly in your hands — he must have enjoyed the mean treatment, that bit of pain. You smirk to yourself.
You stroke him a few times, feeling the smooth skin in your hand, and look up at him through thick eyelashes — he still has the same hard expression on his face, but he’s watching you intently, taking in how small your hands look around his cock. You stick your tongue out and lean forward, giving his tip an experimental lick, tasting the saltiness of his precum as you swirl your tongue around the head.
He’s fully hard now, standing at attention right in your face, so big in your hands that you can’t fully wrap your fingers around it — and it’s curved slightly upwards. You can’t help but imagine how well that curve would hit your g-spot as he’s fucking you deep, his palms pressed against the back of your thighs as he pushes you open wide. You’re aching between your thighs now, and your face flushes as if he can somehow tell — the battle between wanting to hate this asshole pro hero and wanting him to fuck you senseless is raging in your mind.
You pull his dick upwards so you can press your tongue to the underside, giving his shaft a long, wet lick from the base to the tip. Once you get to the tip, you angle it back down and take him into your mouth in one swift motion. He lets out a groan, brows furrowing slightly as he watches his dick disappear between your lips. “There you go — ah fuck — knew you were a slut,” his voice rumbles low in his belly as you begin bobbing your head back and forth at a steady pace, massaging him with your tongue and slurping shamelessly. You’d sucked a dick before in your day, you knew that if you set a good pace and made it sloppy that it would be over with quicker, easier. If only you’d known that Katsuki Bakugou would not be the type to make anything easier for you.
A strong hand on your head makes you stop and peer up at its owner. The giant man leers over you, his hulking form blocking out the sun as he casts a shadow down on you, and his domineering presence somehow feels stronger now, more menacing. He’s smirking down at you, eyes blown and dark — filled with something you can only describe as predatory. The hand on your head grips your hair, pulling back so his cock pops out of your mouth and your neck strains backwards. His other hand finds your exposed neck, wrapping around it possessively.
“Open that little whore mouth.”
His voice is low, quiet, but you hear him loud and clear. You oblige, eyes wide, and feel the hand on your throat move to grip your cheeks. He leans over you, eyes on your tongue, and purses his lips. You’re too entranced by how pretty he looks leaned over you like this, blonde hair falling forward around his face, eyelids low, plump lips pressed together. Before you can even register what he’s doing, Bakugou spits into your mouth, a long string of clear liquid falling from his lips onto your tongue.
You gasp and the man above you laughs, gripping your hair hard in his hand and pulling it back down then swiftly shoving his dick back into your spit-filled mouth before you have time to react. He ruts into your face hard and fast, holding your hair tightly so you can’t pull away. The head of his dick bullies the back of your throat, his length moving in and out of your mouth with each relentless buck of his hips.
He’s panting and grunting with each thrust, filth falling from his lips as he begins letting his primal urges take over. “God yeah — fuckin’ whore — lettin’ me use your mouth like this — fuck — just keep that bratty mouth open —“
You don’t know if it’s his words or the way he’s using you so roughly, but you can feel your whole body heating up from the fire that is burning deep inside you. Your pussy feels painfully untouched and slick between your legs. You can feel it clenching around nothing as this handsome hero degrades you — bullies you in the most hypnotic way. You want to know how he’d bully your insides.
The way he’s abusing your throat is causing it to produce an uncomfortable amount of thick saliva. You gurgle around him, spit bubbles forming at the corners of your mouth and overflowing so your drool is dripping slowly down your chin and onto your chest. It feels like you’re starting to drown yourself, more and more thick spit pooling in your mouth and the back of your throat as he shoves into it ruthlessly.
As if he can hear your thoughts, Bakugou pulls himself out of your mouth and puts his hand palm up in front of your face, just below your chin. “Spit,” he commands. You look up at him confused, and he cocks an eyebrow, giving his hand a small shake. Finally understanding, you collect the saliva pooling in your mouth and reluctantly spit it into his open palm. A wicked grin spreads across his face and, with his other hand wrapped tightly in your hair to keep you from pulling away, he roughly rubs his spit-covered hand all over your face. You gasp and squeeze your eyes shut, surprised by the feeling of the thick fluid being rubbed over your mouth, cheeks, forehead, eyes — you know your makeup must be smearing around as it mixes with your spit.
Bakugou chuckles darkly, squeezing your jaw between his thumb and forefinger and moving it around so he can take in his handiwork — your skin glistening with spit and black makeup smeared around your eyes, your cute little face ruined. He’s drunk off of your destruction. He wants to ruin you more, reduce you to a sloppy mess and make you lose every ounce of that infuriating attitude and dignity until you’re nothing more than a used up whore. Nothing made his dick harder than being the one to destroy a pretty little bitch with an attitude — a pretty little bitch like you.
He finally wipes your eyes with his dry thumb and you blink, peering up at him through wet lashes.
“You look so much prettier like this.”
He straightens back up and tangles a hand back in your hair, gripping his dick in his other hand and rubbing it over your ruined, slippery face. The action feels so nasty — so degrading — and yet you’re panting below him, feeling your arousal radiating at your center. You just know that if you stuck your hand down into your panties that you would be completely soaked — and you’re almost tempted to, the need to feel friction between your legs getting stronger as the sensation of Dynamight’s weighty cock dragging along your face taunts you.
He can see you squeezing your thighs together, the way lust makes your eyes glaze over, and he snickers. “This turnin’ you on? Nasty bitch.” He grabs the base of his thick cock in his hand and brings it down on your cheek with a wet thwap thwap thwap.
“Open.”
You obey, and he shoves his length back down your throat in one swift motion, holding your head down, your lips pressed against wet blonde curls, until you’re gagging around him. You try to pull away, pressing your palms to his thighs and pushing, but he’s so much stronger than you.
“Stay there,” he grunts, “Ya wanna pay me back right? ‘m takin’ your breath as payment.”
You still, finding your body automatically going along with his sadistic little game. It was like your brain was hard-wired to want to please him — or maybe the mix of arousal and oxygen deprivation swirling around in your head was making you more pliable. You hold yourself there as long as you can, his cock filling your throat so full that he’s blocking your airways completely. You furrow your brows, trying your best to hold your breath and keep your throat from rejecting him, but you’re not able to hold him there for long before you’re choking around him and trying to pull away again.
He lets you, pulling your head back with his hands, and you take in a deep, raspy breath. As quickly as he’s gone, he’s back again, the familiar feeling of rigid, wet skin against your tongue returning as the blonde slides himself back down your throat. He fills your mouth up easily, his tip pushing past something hard in your throat until he’s blocking your airways again.
He bottoms out in your throat again with a groan. “Take it — fuck — take it all,” he moans as he wraps his hands up in your hair and starts moving your head back and forth against him shallowly. You’re gurgling around him, making lewd, wet sounds involuntarily as he uses your head like his own personal toy.
The panicked feeling from being deprived of air for too long returns and you slap his thigh twice, to which he groans and pulls your head off of him again. You’re gasping, sputtering, coughing, saliva covering your face, dripping down your chin and neck, globs of it rolling down the slopes of your breasts.
Wet sounds fill the air as Dynamight strokes his cock in your face, so much spit covering it that it’s gathering in his hand and dripping onto the dirt floor in fat globs. With his free hand he lifts his shirt up, ducking his head down slightly to bring the front of it over until the fabric is resting behind his neck, half removed so the sleeves are still wrapped around his brawny arms. Your eyes rake up his body, appreciating the way his abs tighten as he pleasures himself, the light sheen of sweat that makes his pecs glisten, the way his strong arm flexes with each stroke of his hand.
He was the closest thing to a God you had ever witnessed, and you were so captivated that you were ready to lay all of yourself at his feet.
You stick your tongue out and press it to his tip as he jerks himself off, looking up at him innocently to let him know you’re ready for more. He growls at your expression, how much of a mess you are covered in spit, makeup ruined, hair askew, and his slick cock jerking over your desperate face. The hand that isn’t pumping is brought up to your face, cupping your wet cheek as Bakugou looks down at you intently. He hasn’t even properly touched you and you look like this. He runs his thumb over your tongue, which is dripping spit onto your heaving chest, then pushes it in further, prodding at your mouth and pulling at your cheek. You swirl your tongue around his thumb before closing your lips and sucking with an approving hum. A husky moan is pulled from deep within him, overwhelmed by the feeling of his own slick hand, your mouth on him, and, especially, the sight of you. “Mmm messy fuckin’ slut…”
He thinks this is the best you’ll ever look, and he wants to see you look like this all the time — no, he wants to see you look even more used up. He wants to be your undoing.
“I might just have to keep you…”
He pulls his thumb out of your mouth with a pop and leans down as he strokes himself, his lips finding yours in a sloppy kiss. Slippery lips, spit, teeth — his tongue explores your mouth in the same way he does everything: unabashed, feverish, domineering. Even his mouth is a bully, tongue strong, teeth nipping at your lower lip. You respond with a fire of your own, sucking his lower lip into your mouth harshly and biting down hard enough to draw blood. He growls and pulls away, but instead of anger on his face there’s a sly smile, his mouth and chin slick with saliva. His eyes are glowing as he straightens back up, bringing his pulsating dick back to your face.
Bakugou puts his hands on either side of your head, easily encasing it, and lines himself back up with your lips. With a low moan, he’s pushing himself back into your mouth. You take him willingly, tongue out, eyes trained up on him, and you moan around him, appreciating the way his girth fills your mouth up and makes your jaw ache.
He ruts into your throat, wet sounds filling your ears as he fucks into your face fast and hard. Your throat is burning, jaw sore, your chin wet from his balls smacking into it over and over. You focus on breathing through your nose when you can as he continues his assault on your throat. He’s groaning, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut, fingers splayed out on the sides of your head as he loses himself in your warm, wet mouth.
You can’t look up at him now, too focused on trying not to drown in spit and dick, but if you could you’d see how beautiful he looks like this — his eyebrows furrowed and his pretty lips open slightly as he lets pleasure overcome him, his cheeks slightly flushed from the physical exertion. He doesn’t look angry or annoyed like this — he looks angelic, euphoric, like he’s in the most beautiful pain.
You know it before he tells you, the way his pace becomes erratic and his hands grip your head a little too hard — he’s nearing his end. He’s panting and grunting and babbling over you, his balls tightening as he quickens his thrusts even more. “Shit — so fuckin’ good — filthy fuckin’ bitch — ah yeah — yer such a mess for me — you like that shit huh — ugh gonna blow my load all over your face — bet you’d love that shit huh slut?” You moan your agreement, but the sound is lost around his cock, coming out as more of a high-pitched gurgle. He chuckles, but it turns into a long, low groan when you bring one of your hands up to massage his spit-soaked balls.
“Ngh-nasty bitch…” He moans, voice losing its edge as you work your hand over him, coaxing his orgasm out. And then he falls apart — head thrown back, brows stitched together, face flushed, sweat beading on his forehead and chest. With a flex of his abdomen and a final push into your throat, he’s cumming. Hard. You feel him pulse in your throat, feel heat on your tongue, taste bitter saltiness — then you feel hot, wet ropes falling over your face, one after another. He’s practically whining as he squeezes his spasming dick, releasing rope after rope of white-hot cum all over your already ruined face. His hand is wrapped up in your hair, keeping you in place for him as he comes down, squeezing the last bit of spunk out of his softening dick and letting it fall onto your outstretched tongue with an unceremonious flick of his wrist.
Even though it wasn’t your orgasm that had just happened, you’re completely high, eyes glazed over and panting, tongue still stuck out and absolutely covered in spit and cum. Your mind is so hazy and your cunt is aching something fierce, you simply can’t focus. Bakugou laughs as he’s pulling his sweats up.
“God, look at you.”
You’re coming back down to earth just in time to see a phone in your face — Dynamight snaps a picture of you as he laughs.
You’re suddenly painfully aware of how you look and where you are, the arousal that had previously had an otherworldly grip on your consciousness finally dissipating. You swallow and it burns the back of your throat, the smell of cum filling your nose. You feel slimy, your throat aches, your knees hurt. “What the fuck are you doing?”
He grins at you, leaning down until you’re practically nose-to-nose. “I said I’d let the damages go. Not that I’d let you off the hook. Now I have this —“ He turns his phone around, the screen lighting up with the picture of your ruined face. “— to keep you on my leash. And it’s a tight one, sweetheart.”
With that, he turns on his heel and starts walking towards the road, his thumb tapping on his phone. “Better get out of here before the tow shows up. Unless you want the driver to see what a whore you are.”
After taking a particularly long shower and pouring yourself a hefty glass of wine, you finally settle into your couch. You’re trying to shake away the shame that’s beginning to snake it’s way into your mind. How could you let a man — especially a man as fucking douchey as pro hero Dynamight — bring you to your knees like that? You’ve now realized that there was no way he hadn’t been driving way over the speed limit (how did he sneak up into your blind spot like that?) so the accident most likely wasn’t completely your fault. That means that you probably would have shared mutual blame and you would have been off the hook anyways… right?
The accident aside, your stomach is twisting just thinking about how depraved you had been. You let that man use you in every sense of the word and it made you feel dirty. But what was making you feel even more dirty was the fact that your mind was completely fixated on him, even now, and the feeling in your stomach was definitely something more than just disgust. The image of him hunched over you, sweaty and panting, with a cocky smirk on his face every time your eyes met — the sound of his grunting, the way he cursed at you and let the filthiest, meanest things you’ve ever heard just fall from his lips like it was nothing — the smell of his musk, sweet with a hint of spice, engulfing you more and more as he worked up a sweat — all of these things are like heroin to you; You hate yourself for it, but you want more.
Your body heat is rising again as the images of him flash through your mind. That sickeningly sweet twisting of your gut that radiates all the way up your body until it settles in your neck and face — maybe you were just sexually frustrated, needed a release and then he’d fade from your mind. You start to fish in your bedside table drawer for your vibrator as you pull your phone out for something other than him to get you going, but freeze when you notice an unread message on your lock screen. It’s from an unsaved number. You slide your thumb up on the screen, tap in your passcode, and click the familiar green icon. The message is sitting right at the top, waiting for you, taunting you. The text in the message preview makes your heart drop: Attachment: 1 image. You hold your breath and click — and it feels like your insides have dropped fully out of your body and onto the floor.
Looking back at you in the message thread is you — well, a version of you. You barely recognize yourself, your eyes glazed over, unfocused, and your mouth wide open, tongue stuck out in a heinously lewd expression. Your eye makeup is smeared and your features are obscured by the slick all over your face — spit — and the globs of white that are mixed in, covering your cheeks, your lips, sitting on your tongue, reaching all the way up to your forehead and in your hairline. Can this fucked out, messy, cum-covered person really be you? You know it is, because the memory of it is making your cunt ache.
Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch the dreaded 3 dots pop up below the photo — the person on the other end is typing. You wait for what feels like hours before the dots disappear and are quickly replaced with a new message:
“Better answer when I call, princess.”
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jupitadori · 3 months
Text
Ok but imagine you’re at a club in the city, it’s NYE.
You wear your short sparkly dress and favourite heels. You’re dancing with your friends, giddy and tipsy.
Then you see him, across the bar.
Saturo Gojo.
The club lights dancing off of his silver hair, his muscles stretching his tight black t-shirt. His brilliant blue eyes catch yours as he lazily looks you up and down, a smirk playing on his lips.
You look away, nervously.
The music blares as you dance, the alcohol taking effect. You shake your ass and whip your hair as the men around you stare, hungrily. You see Satoru watching you as your hands run over the curve of your hips.
You spin and twirl in a giddy, drunken haze. Your dress lifting and flowing, revealing your bare thighs and the bottom of your ass. You look back at the bar but realise Satoru isn’t there anymore. You huff, deflated.
Just then you feel a hand on your ass, grabbing you. Hard. Someone begins pushing you through the crowd toward a shadowed doorway.
Satoru spins you around to face him and pins you to the wall, his huge frame towering over you.
“I think they’ve seen enough of you.” He smirks, nodding to the crowd of men on the dance floor.
“But I want to see more”
His huge hand slides up your dress and his fingers wrap round your lacy panties, pulling them down in a swift motion. You gasp.
Satoru chuckles as he picks you up, your legs wrapping around him. Before you can think, he kisses you ferociously.
With your legs spread open you feel him unzip,
lining his throbbing cock at your soaking entrance.
You moan forces himself into you. Taking no time at all to pound your tight little hole.
The music blasts as he fucks you against the wall. You clutch at his back, your face buried in his neck. He laughs as you pathetically try to stifle your moans- but the more you resist, the harder he fucks.
You bounce like a slut, dripping down his massive cock as he pounds your soaking cunt. Faster, harder.
In the distance you hear the crowd is counting down to the New Year-
“10…!”
You can’t barely think straight, feeling his biceps pulsating as he fucks you senseless. He kisses you as you moan into his mouth, his dick pummelling your soft walls.
“Who’s a good slut?” He growls, slapping your ass.
“I-I am” you cry
“3…!”
He pounds harder. You whimper, breathless as he continues to ruin your pussy. Your legs shake.
“2…!”
Your vision starts to blur. You almost can’t take it anymore, you feel like you’re going to-
“I-I’m gonna-!”
“1…!”
You cry out in ecstasy and squirt all over his cock as he cums deeps inside you. You both pant.
He pulls out his throbbing cock and puts you down; your legs wobble.
“Happy New Year” he sneers, leaving you stood breathless, his cum dripping down your thighs.
404 notes · View notes
dekuphilia · 2 years
Text
TEACH ME
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This is a collaborative piece with @keigospup​ , please click here for part two
Pairing: katsuki bakugou x reader (No quirks)
Warnings: nsft content, Virgin!Reader, Dom!Bakugou, Reader is AFAB, Overstimulation, Praise, Use of Pet Names, Heavy BDSM Themes, Spanking, Mentions of Spit, Choking, Daddy Kink, Slight Pet Play, Degradation, fingering (f. receving), female masturbation, male masturbation, cunnilingus
Note: all characters are ages up to 21+
nsft under the cut
You had never imagined you would find yourself in this situation, but your friend, Mina, seemed to convince you to tag along with her to an underground BDSM class she had been helping teach for a few weeks, alongside a close friend of hers. You, of course, protested at first, sure you would be out of your comfort zone. Mina insisted she knew the man who taught the class and would do her best to make sure you were as comfortable as possible.
After some convincing, you finally agreed to go along. Mina assured you that she would stay by your side the whole time, assured you that the lesson would be tame this week and that you had nothing to worry about.
Mina gave you a simple rundown of the class, even showed you some of the previous lesson plans so you wouldn't feel completely left out. The subject was so new to you, but you were quite intrigued. She also had you fill out a simple form, explaining the point of the class and the things you may experience. Once you looked over the document, you signed it with a shaky hand.
Now you stood in your room, collecting your things before you had to leave with your roommate. 
“C’mon, We’re gonna be late, babe!” Mina shouted through your shared apartment. 
You let out an exaggerated groan as you walked into the loft, phone in hand, “Are you sure I have to go?”
“You promised! Besides, It’ll be really fun!” She insisted, flashing you a smile, “You need to get out more anyway.” She reminded you.
You knew she was right. While Mina loved to go out and party, you preferred to stay in and watch Netflix. You had never been one to party, it just wasn't like you.
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Nerves were running high as you arrived at a building you were quite familiar with, the local library. Your eyebrows knitted together as you stared up at the large building, stopping in your tracks.
“Mina, this is the library? I thought you said we were going to a uh,” you trailed off, not wanting to finish your sentence, “you know.” Cheeks flushed as you insinuated.
“Oh yeah!” The pink-haired girl chimed in, “We rent out the library basement once a week!” A smile covered her lips as she led you into the library and down a shifty flight of stairs.
You hadn't even known the library had a basement, and it was a place you were quite frequent to visit. You wonder if you had ever met the instructor before, even just in passing.
Your mind was racing almost as fast as your heart as you approached a large black door, “Well, here we are!” Mina said cheerily, “There’s nothing to worry about, C’mon!” 
Mina pushed opened the door and all eyes were on you. 
“Sorry, I’m late Katsu! Had to drag this one out of the house!” Mina motioned towards you.
You felt your cheeks heat up as the instructor of the class eyed you for a moment before returning his gaze to Mina. 
You couldn't tear your eyes away from the blonde standing in front of you, something about him was so alluring. Vermillion eyes met yours for a moment before he spoke.
“It’s about time, Mina.” His tone held a hint of annoyance, “Almost started without you.” he scoffed under his breath, “Mina, join me up here,” Katsuki motioned, “and You,” His gaze was set on you, “Have a seat.” a large hand waved towards a table near the front of the room.
You quickly padded towards an empty chair, noticing a sheet of paper in front of you and an ink pen. 
The blonde teacher took his place alongside mina in front of the class. He looked so big and scary, you almost whined when his eyes landed on you again. You felt like you were in a trance as he spoke, his voice sounding like a distant whisper.
“Alright everyone, take a look at those papers in front of you.” The blonde instructor spoke, leaning against a small table that sat at the front of the room. Though, your eyes were frozen on him. Your entire body sat completely still, watching his every move. You quite literally could not look away from him if your life depended on it. 
The way his muscles flexed under his tightly fitting button-up with every move, the slightly see-through material in combination with the overhead lighting allowed for a perfect few of how well defined he was. The material hung ever so nicely on each and every individual muscle. 
You became so engulfed in thoughts about what this man could do to you that you didn’t even notice as he began to walk towards you. Not until you felt a warm hand tightly grip your cheeks, forcing your head upward slightly. Your entire face flushed a bright red, realizing that your new instructor was standing over your desk, your face squeezed in his rather large hand. 
“Paper. Now.” Katsuki growled out softly, his vermillion eyes staring daggers at you. A small squeak left your lips as your eyes shifted down from his to the paper in front of you. The male watched your eyes flick back and forth as you read the material presented to you. His hand released your face, a small smirk on his lips. “Good girl.” He whispered close to your ear, just quiet enough where you were sure you may have been the only one to hear, before walking away from your desk and heading back to the front of the room. You felt your body try to shrink into your seat, wanting to feel as small as possible out of sheer embarrassment. 
“Today we are going over titles. They’re a heavily important part of any BDSM or Dom/Sub relationship. There are some basic titles, along with their definitions written on the papers in front of you.” Katuski grabbed his own paper off of the table in front of him and began reading off the different honorifics and titles written. 
“These titles are important, many of you may already use them in your play or daily life, if so I'm sure you're aware of the significance they hold. For those of you who are newer to the scene, I'll give a brief explanation.” He continued, pacing in front of the class, “They are titles of respect, these are not to be used on just anyone,” The blonde hummed, eyes meeting yours, “They’re saved for someone you trust and respect.”
You took in the information the best you could, but your mind was racing as your eyes scanned the sheet of paper in front of you, you wondered which honorifics your teacher preferred.
“As a dominant, I do not let just anyone call me ‘Master’, or ‘Daddy’, these titles are saved for my submissives only.”
A pout fell upon your lips at his phrasing, you wonder if he has more than one partner already. You wouldn't be surprised if that was the case, he was so handsome, so seductive, everything about him seemed perfect.
“For those of you who are submissive, titles such as ‘Baby girl’, and ‘Princess’ should be saved for someone special. You wouldn’t want someone random calling you that, would you?” He addressed the class and you watched as a few of your peers nodded. 
“Before I continue with the lesson, I would like everyone to circle the names that are of importance to you, or names you would like your partner to call you.”
You stared at the paper once again, thinking of which names you might enjoy. You nervously held onto your pen, circling a few of the names that stood out to you, such as ‘baby’, ‘baby girl’, ‘princess’, and a few others. Some of the names seemed a bit out of your comfort zone, you thought if someone called you some of the harsher ones you may end up crying.
After a few minutes of silence, Katsuki spoke up again, “Alright, I trust that you all have selected a few of the names from the list. I’m going to come around and see what types of titles everyone has selected, just so I can get to know everyone.”
Katsuki strides down the isles, glancing at everyone’s answers. As he approaches you, you find yourself hiding your answers with your arm, growing nervous. 
As he hovers over you, you get a whiff of his cologne, he smells like fire and cinnamon with a hint of mint, “Whatcha hiding from?” He hums, an amused look covering his face, “I don't bite unless you ask nicely.”
Your cheeks heat up at his comment and you let out a squeak, uncovering your answers. His eyes scan over your paper before he flashes you a smile, “Good choices.” he mutters before walking away to the next person.
After a few minutes, he returned to the front of the class and explains more about the importance of titles and when it's appropriate to use them. How certain honorifics are okay to use in certain situations, as long as you have consent to use them. You soak up as much of the information as possible, wanting to impress the blonde if he asks you any questions. 
You find yourself sitting on the edge of your seat by the end of the lesson, taking in everything he's saying as gospel. 
Katsuki wraps up the class by letting everyone know what time they will be meeting next week, and saying goodbyes as people shuffle out of the room.
You collect your things, padding over to your roommate, “Hey babe! How was it?” Mina cheers, flashing you a smile.
Your cheeks flush as your mind races with all of the events that occurred, “It was,” you trailed off, trying to find the right word, “Interesting, that’s for sure.” you gave her a sheepish smile, attempting to cover your flustered state. You really wanted to get home as soon as possible, there was an ache between your thighs that you really needed to deal with.
“Hey pinky,” a gruff voice spoke, causing you to jump, “Don’t forget we need to go over next week's lesson. It’s hot as shit down here.” Katsuki grumbled, approaching the two of you. 
As he stood beside you, you glanced up to catch a peek of his face and you noticed how tall he really was, the man literally towered over you, at least by an entire foot. He must've felt your gaze on him, as his eyes darted down to meet yours, “Hope I didn’t scare ya’ too bad today.” He flashed you a grin before turning his attention back to Mina, “Let’s meet upstairs, I’ll take your friend here with me.”
“Okay, be there in a few!” Mina shouted, collecting a few things as Katsuki led you upstairs.
You sighed in relief as you entered familiar ground again. You followed the blonde until he stopped at an empty table, pulling out a chair, “Sit.” his eyes darted between you and the chair his hand rested on.
You immediately obeyed his order, sitting down. The chair was pushed towards the table seconds later. Katsuki sat across from you, “Ya’know, it’s polite to say thank you,” he spoke softly, surprising you, “and I never caught your name.” he mumbled.
“I’m sorry!” you squeaked, you didn't want to seem rude, “Thank you,” you managed the get the words out smoothly after a few seconds, “and It’s y/n,” you mumbled the last part.
“Y/n.” Bakugou repeated, liking the way your name sounded rolling off his tongue, “That suits you.” He smirked, leaning against the table.
The way he said your name had you clenching your thighs together impulsively, something about him just had you so flustered, he was so charming and naturally dominant that submissive instincts you didn't even know you had were coming out.
You glanced around the library, wondering when Mina was coming to join you. Much to your dismay, she was nowhere to be seen, it was bad enough that you were turned on, but it was worse that the subject of your thoughts was right in front of you. 
You shifted in your seat again, subconsciously trying to create friction between your thighs, you let out a soft sigh as you felt a bit of what you were searching for.
“You know,” Bakugou spoke, startling you, “I know exactly what you’re doing.” he stood to his feet, leaning over until he was at eye level with you, “Didn’t think I flustered you that much.” he let out a laugh and you felt yourself sink into your seat out of embarrassment.
Why had his antics gotten to you so much? You were never like this, you never did things this risky before. Katsuki had you acting completely different.
“I wasn't-” you gasped as he leaned closer, hot breath fanning across your face.
“You weren't rubbing your cute thighs together? You weren't thinking about me?” calloused fingers grasped your cheeks again, slightly squishing them between his fingers as he had done earlier, “I don't like lying brats very much,” he hummed, “I prefer good, obedient girls.”
You shivered at his words, squirming to break free from his grasp, you never let men touch you like this, but at the moment you didn't really mind. 
Just as Katsuki was about to speak he heard a door open, causing him to instinctively jump back, leaving you dumbfounded and nearly drooling.
Mina entered the room a few seconds later, sitting beside you at the table, “Sorry it took so long! Had to make some copies.” she handed the blonde some paperwork.
“This shouldn't take too long!” Mina assured you, sitting down beside you, completely oblivious to what has just happened between the two of you. 
You sat beside her completely flustered, trying to keep your eyes off Katsuki as the two of them went over next week's lesson plans.
After an hour had passed, you finally said your goodbyes and returned to your shared apartment with mina. As soon as you arrived, you let Mina know you were going to sleep and dashed to your room, locking the door behind you so you could take care of your little problem.
While you were alone in your room, knuckles deep in your cunt, Katsuki was across town in his own apartment fisting his cock to the thought of your cute little face and your sweet voice.
In his mind you were moaning his name like a virtue, begging him for more, more, more. He had never taken a liking to any of his students, but something about you was special, your timid personality forced out the dominance in him. He had such a strong urge to care for you, protect you, keep you safe.
His mind was racing with thoughts as he pumped his fist faster, precum leaking from his bright red tip. He wondered what your body looked like, what your soft skin would feel like under his calloused and worn hands, wondering how you would react to his touch. Had you ever even been touched before, or were you a virgin? The thought of him stuffing his cock into your virgin cunt, molding you to the shape of his cock was just too much for him. With a loud grunt and a final pump of his fist, he let go, white spraying across his abdomen and chest as he came the hardest he had in so long, and all to thoughts of his new, shy student. 
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The next week’s lesson was pretty light, Katsuki talked about aftercare and its importance. You had trouble paying attention, you couldn’t stop thinking about last week when you were alone with him in the library, you wondered if he was thinking about kissing you. You hoped he felt the same as you did, but you wouldn’t dare ask him.
When the lesson came to an end, you found yourself feeling a bit sad, Katsuki had hardly paid you any mind the entire time, even when you were leaving with mina, he didn't bother to say goodbye. When you returned to your apartment, you immediately locked yourself in your room, needing some time to be alone with your thoughts. 
Why did you even like Katsuki? You hardly knew him. Sure, he was charming and handsome, but what type of person was he? What were his interests even? You realized you had a lot of unanswered questions and you were unsure if you would even know the answers to them.
Katsuki on the other hand, felt horrible for ignoring you all night, he wanted to talk to you, look at you, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do any of those things. He had never taken a liking to someone so quickly, especially not someone in one of his classes. Hell, he had even touched himself to the thought of you, what was wrong with him? 
He wanted to know more about you, but you seemed so innocent and fragile. He didn't want to hurt you or break you. You were so persistent in his mind that night, overtaking his every thought, what did you like to do in your free time? How did you take your coffee? How would you sound moaning his name? His mind was racing, but he knew he had to do something, he just wasn’t sure what.
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By the third week, you were excited to tag along with Mina to class, you even asked her if you could go this week instead of her asking you. You were hopeful this week would be different and Katsuki would pay attention to you.
Mina was surprised to see you take an interest, but she was glad you wanted to spend more time out of the house.
When you arrived at the library and entered the basement, you immediately took the seat in the front row as you had the previous weeks. Luckily, this time you arrived early, so you didn't have to deal with as many awkward stares as before. 
Once everyone had settled in, Mina and Katsuki took their places in front of you and your fellow peers.
Bakugou started the class a normal, explaining what topics you'd be going over this week, “Today we will be learning about collaring and consent. I'll start simply by explaining consent and why it's important.”
Bakugou gave a rundown of why consent is important and how to react if consent is revoked in the middle of a scene, “A good system of safe words to use is the stoplight system, is anyone familiar with this concept?” a few students nodded and you gave Katsuki a confused look, “its a simple concept, Green means to continue, yellow means slow down or do less, and red means stop. If your partner says ‘red’, you should stop immediately and check in with them, offer them aftercare. We went over that last week.” he hummed as he finished his thought.
You listened closely as he spoke, trying to pay attention, but the way he was stealing glances at you made things rough, you resisted the urge to rub your thighs together, not wanting to get caught again.
“Now, this week I will need a helper, usually Pinky is my helper, but this isn't really her style,” he remarks, letting out a laugh. Mina smiles at the class and nods in agreement.
You wondered who Katsuki would choose to help him as he strode through the room. When he stopped in front of you, your heart dropped, “Care to assist me?” he hummed, turning his attention to you.
“Ah, I’m not sure,” you mumbled, peeking up at him through your lashes. You glanced over at Mina, begging her to help you, but all she did was shrug in response, “I’m not very experienced.” you trailed off.
“I think you’ll be perfect, don’t worry.”
After a minute of coaxing, Katsuki had you standing beside him in front of the class, you resisted the urge to cower behind him, not wanting to appear weak.
“Alright, We’re going to talk about collars now,” Katsuki’s voice boomed beside you as he reached over to grab a simple black collar from the table in front of him, “I’m sure some of you are familiar with these and what they signify,” He continued, rubbing his thumb over the leather band, “Collars are very important in BDSM relationships, they are similar to wedding bands. They signify love, trust, and devotion.” he glanced over at you, admiring the way you looked up at him in awe.
“Now, I am going to demonstrate for you all how to properly put on a collar like this.” He held the item in the air, “it’s a fairly common type of collar, so that’s why I chose this one.”
Katsuki turned his attention to you, “Sit for me, please.” He addressed you in a soft tone, but you still gave him a confused look. You weren’t sure where to sit, as there wasn’t a chair. After a moment of silence and you awkwardly standing in place, he spoke again, “Sit on the floor, tuck your legs underneath you.”
Your heart raced as you followed his command, even went a step further and rested your hands on your bare thighs as your skirt had ridden up slightly.
“Good girl.” He hummed, just loud enough for you to hear, “Now, once you’ve got your submissive in position, you want to ask her for consent.” He kneeled in front of you before speaking again. 
“What’s your color?” Vermillion eyes held an emotion you didn’t recognize, causing you to fluster.
“Gr-Green, sir.” You whispered your reply, too embarrassed to speak up.
Bakugou’s heart swelled with admiration as you used the simple honorific. He knew it didn’t mean you belonged to him, he knew you were just being respectful, but it made him feel something he wasn’t sure if he liked or not.
“Louder please, it’s important that you voice your consent clearly.” He spoke sweetly.
Many of the students were shocked by how calm Katsuki was behaving, they had never seen him so serene before. Many of the women in the class were quite jealous of you, they would do anything to be in your spot.
“Green.” You spoke up slightly, causing Bakugou to smile. 
“Good girl,” he addressed you quietly before speaking to the class again, “It’s very important to clearly state your consent, especially if your partner asks. This will avoid confusion and make things run smoothly. Please remember that it never ruins the moment to check in with your partner.”
His eyes were back on you again, “Relax for me,” he murmured, moving your hair out of the way to place the collar on your neck. “Now for collaring, when you are putting one on someone, you want to make sure it’s not too tight, be sure to check and make sure.” Calloused fingers looped the collar around your neck with ease, “Once you’ve got in on, slip two fingers between the leather,” he did as he said, fingers pressing softly against your skin, “If it’s too tight, you risk causing damage to someone’s windpipe.”
Once the collar was secured in place, he turned it towards the front of your neck and stood back to his feet, “Face them, please.” He addressed you without even looking down. 
You nearly pouted as your whole body flushed. You slowly turned to face your peers, a nervous look covering your face. You couldn’t seem to drag your eyes from the floor.
“What’s your color?” He asked again, this time looking down to meet your eyes. You wanted to say red, and get up and leave, but you didn’t. Part of you wanted to stay right where you were, you knew you didn’t belong to him, but at the moment things felt right. 
“Green.” You said softly, smiling at him.
“Good, we’re going to continue then, please tell me if anything changes.”
Bakugou continued talking about collars for a few more minutes. As time went on, you felt a bit more comfortable sitting on the floor beside him. Katsuki has even gone as far as petting your hair as he spoke.
“Now, we are going to talk a bit about leashes.” He grabbed a leash that matched the collar around your neck and you perked up. 
You couldn’t help but squirm as he spoke about the item, explaining the safety of how to use it, and how it tied in with certain types of relationships. 
He once again dropped to his knees in front of you, speaking quietly enough for only you to hear, “I’m going to attach this, okay?” He latched the leash onto the collar, grasping the end in his fist, “Can you walk around for me?” He spoke before standing up and you nodded softly. 
“Now, I’m going to take our little pet on a walk around the room, just to demonstrate how to properly handle a submissive while using a leash.” He spoke with authority, still holding the end of the lead in his fist firmly.
“Walk.” He commanded.
You glanced up at him for approval before you begin to follow him, crawling around on your hands and knees. Every few minutes Katsuki would check with you, making sure you were comfortable. 
Your peers seemed to think you were quite adorable, some of them commenting on how cute you looked crawling around. As you neared the back of the room, you almost felt confident alongside your teacher, no longer worried about the others in the room.
As Bakugou lead you back to the front of the room, one of the male students attempted to snatch the lead from Katsuki’s hand, causing you to be yanked towards one of the tables roughly, slightly choking you.
You let out a squeak and began to cough, “Red.” You uttered the single word and Bakugou was fuming, yanking your leash from the student's hand.
“Mina!” Bakugou barked from across the room, “Get them out, now. Everyone out!” He shouted angrily before coming down to meet you on the floor. 
Mina guided the other students out of the room, apologizing for the lesson having to end early. Once the room was empty, Katsuki spoke softly to you.
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry that happened.” He was removing the collar and leash before you could say anything, hands softly soothing the skin at the nape of your neck as tears welled in your eyes, “Oh, don’t cry, it’s alright. It’s just you and me now.” He cooed, pulling you up to hold you against his chest.
You nuzzled your head against him without thinking, nearly sobbing into his shirt, “wanna go home.” You whined.
You felt so.. weird. You were in a headspace you were so unfamiliar with. You had never felt this way before, you felt so small, so dependent.
Katsuki knew exactly what was happening, you had dropped into subspace and some asshole had ruined the experience for you. He wanted to beat the shit out of that guy, but he trusted Mina to take care of it.
“Don’t worry, it’ll take care of you.” He assured you, “M’gonna take ya’home, make sure you’re safe.” He offered you a gentle smile, softly padding away your tears with his thumb.
Katsuki’s eyes scanned the room, searching for Mina, but she was still nowhere to be seen.
“Jus’take me home.” You whined, clinging to the blonde’s shirt with your tiny fists, “wanna lay down.” 
Katsuki groaned as he decided he couldn’t wait for Mina any longer, He didn’t want to startle you, or make you wait so he did what he needed to.
He quickly texted Mina, letting her know he was going to take you to his apartment with him because she was taking too long. Once he sent the message, he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist the best he could.
“Gonna take ya’ back to mine for tonight, alright?” He grumbled, carrying you to his car.
All you could do was nod into his chest, letting out a soft whine as he sat you in the front seat of his car.
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You held your knees to your chest as you sat in the passenger seat, trying to make yourself as small as you felt inside. Everything felt so off. You felt scared, and you weren't even sure why. You knew you were safe with Katsuki, but all you could think about was getting yanked around and humiliated in front of people you hardly knew. You caught the glances of your peers as they left the room earlier, and some of them look pissed. You had ruined Bakugou’s class, it was all your fault.
You arrived at an apartment complex that reminded you of the one you lived in, but you knew it wasn't your home. Katsuki ushered you inside without a word, keeping close to you as he guided you. Once inside, he slipped his shoes off and helped you do the same.
“M’so fuckin’ sorry that happened,” he finally spoke, leading you towards the couch, “Should beat the shit out of that fucker.”
You were shocked to hear Katsuki use such harsh language, he seemed so calm in class, this was a side of him you weren't very familiar with.
“Are ya’ feelin’ any better, can I get ya’ anything?” He seemed so... awkward now. 
You shook your head softly, “I’m okay, thank you though.” you muttered out, not meeting his eyes, “Jus’ tired.” A yawn you couldn't hold in escaped your lips.
Katsuki thought for a moment before speaking, “I’ll let ya’ sleep in my bed, just don’t tell anyone I’m a softie, eh?” he teased.
“I…I couldn’t do that. I’ll just sleep here.” You motioned toward the couch, but the blonde wasn’t taking no for an answer.
“No way, that thing is fuckin’ uncomfortable. I’ll show you to the bedroom.” He grumbled.
You let out a sigh, accepting your defeat as he showed you to his room. It was rather bland, just a queen-size bed, a few nightstands, and a dresser. 
Once Katsuki had shown you where everything was, he headed towards the door, “Well, I think that’s everything. Ya’ should be good for the night, yeah?”
“Thank you again,” you flashed him a smile, “I’m sorry if I caused any trouble tonight, didn’t mean to,” you mumbled
Katsuki was quick to assure you that you hadn’t done anything wrong, that you did just as he asked and you went above his expectations of you. You tried your hardest to believe him, but something in the back of your mind told you he was just being polite. 
“Hey, Katsuki?” You said softly.
He turned on his heels, eyes trained on you, “Hm?”
“Could you stay with me?” You glanced down at the bed beside you, hoping he would stay with you, as childish as it sounded, you just didn’t want to be alone. 
“Thought ya’d never ask.” He teased, “Let me get changed, an’ I’ll find you something to wear.”
You watched as Katsuki disappeared into another room. When he returned he looked much more comfortable, clad in a pair of sweatpants and a loose-fitting tank top. He held a T-shirt in his hand.
“Don’t think I have any pants that would fit you,” Vermillion eyes lingered on your body for a second too long, “but I think this will cover everything.” He tossed you the shirt.
You gave him a look, holding the shirt in your hands, “Don’t worry, I won’t peek.” He playfully rolled his eyes, turning anyway from you. 
You quickly slipped off your previous outfit, replacing it with the comfortable Tee. 
“You can look now.” 
Katsuki turned to face you, completely flustered by how precious you looked wearing something that belonged to him. Of course, he was very good at masking his emotions, so to you, he looked completely fine, but his mind was racing. He wasn’t one to bring girls home with him. He didn’t like the emotional side of relationships, so he avoided letting people in to the best of his ability.
Without a word, he climbed into bed with you, burying the two of you beneath the black duvet. You rolled over to face the blonde, giving him a sleepy smile. He reached up, softly brushing his fingers through your hair. 
Your eyes fluttered close, you were finally able to relax. Even in the silence, you found comfort. There was no need for words, simple actions spoke for themselves. Katsuki continued to pet your hair, even went as far as running his thumb across the soft skin of your cheek.
After a few minutes passed, Katsuki even found himself relaxing, he couldn't take his eyes off you, you looked so peaceful. Your breath had slowed down and he was sure you were asleep. Katsuki slowly shifted closer, your face just inches away from him. He could feel puffs of your breath hitting his bare cheek as he continued running his fingers through your hair.
“Green,” you murmur gently, catching Katsuki by surprise. It took a second for his brain to catch up with the racing thoughts he had about you to even fully recognize what you had even said. Though, when he did, he quickly closed the gap between your faces and smashed against your lips with a greedy, passionate kiss. You clung to him in need, your lips moving together with his, letting him take the lead. He gently began to stroke his tongue against your bottom lip and you allowed him entry without a second thought. His tongue slid past your kiss-swollen lips and began exploring every inch of your mouth, reveling in the taste of you. 
Calloused fingers roamed your body, leaving goosebumps in their path. Your skin felt like it was on fire as his lips trailed from yours down to your neck, softly sucking at the nape of your neck. You couldn't help but let out a wanton moan, everything felt like heaven, you couldn't get enough of his touch.
Katsuki let out a groan against your skin just before he pulled away, “Fuck, I marked you. I’m sorry.” He examined the red mark on your neck, watching as it was fading to purple. 
“More, please.” You whined.
“Fuck baby,” His hands trailed down your body, stopping at your plush thighs, “Are you sure?” his eyes met yours.
You nodded fervently, “Please, I need you.” You urged, placing your smaller hands on top of his, moving them closer to the place you needed him the most, “Touch me.”
He could feel the patch of slick on the thin material covering your cunt. Bakugou softly tugged down your underwear, exposing you. Fingers slowly inched towards your clit, causing you to whine. You had never been touched like this before, your body was so reactive and he just couldn't get enough.
“Relax f’me,” He let out a breathless grunt, “Gonna touch you more, okay?” His fingers returned to your bundle of nerves, rubbing small circles on the nub until you were keening. Your tiny whimpers only egged Katsuki on, he sped his action, causing you to moan louder.
“Ah, Please Kats!” You squirmed against his hold, hoping to gain more friction, “More, More, More, please!” 
You felt so drunk on his touch, you just couldn't get enough of him. Everything felt so right, you would let this man do anything to you.
Bakugou pressed your hips down into the mattress, holding you down with one arm. His fingers left your clit, causing you to whine at the loss of contact, “Color?”
“Green.” you huffed out, a hint of annoyance in your voice.
Katsuki narrowed his eyes at you, “Don’t give me an attitude, I’m not done with you.” He nearly growled.
You straighten up immediately, not wanting to upset him. 
“Behave, or I won’t make you cum.” he taunted, flashing you a smirk as his fingers returned to your aching cunt.
“Yes sir!” you gasped out as one long finger entered you.
“Good girl.” he mused, slowly pumping his finger in and out at a tantalizing pace. He wanted to go faster, harder, even make you cry, but he knew he needed to be slow with you. You trusted him to take care of you, and he didn't want to ruin that. As your moans for him grew louder, he was slowly losing what bit of restraint he had left.
Katsuki slipped in another finger, stretching you out slightly, “Ah, Oh my god.” You whined, head lolling to the side as you approached your climax. Katsuki glanced down to watch you take his fingers, Your arousal was already coating his palm.
“Please, don’t stop, wan’ cum.” You slurred out, eyebrows knitting together.
“Not yet, baby. Your moans are so pretty. You can last a little longer, can’t you?” he teased, curling his fingers to press against the spongy part inside of you.
You let out a loud moan as he continued pressing his fingers against that spot inside of you, drawing you closer to the edge, “Please! Katsu, Please!” You whined, bucking your hips to meet his hand, chasing your high.
“You wanna cum baby? Wanna cum for me?” Katsuki taunted, quickening his pace.
“Mhm!” you nodded, “Please! Wan’ cum for you!” you moaned, taking your bottom lip between your teeth.
Fingers curled one last time before you let go, your arousal coating his hand and forearm. Your vision faded as you reached your climax, feeling like you were on cloud nine.
Praise rang in your ears as Katsuki talked you down, slowly bringing you back to reality. Letting out a huff, you finally caught your breath.
“You did so well, such a good girl.” Katsuki praised, slowly pulling his fingers from your drooling core, “Look at that.” He held his hand up, showing you how your arousal glistened on his hand. He drew his fingers passed his lips, sucking off your juices.
He pulled them from his mouth with a soft ‘pop’, you leaned in to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips. Katsuki nearly let out a moan against your lips, everything about you was so perfect.
PART TWO
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2K notes · View notes
lacheri · 2 years
Note
hello missy 1 year that means I’ve known you for almost a year 😍
do u… do u wanna write ->
"you're gonna have to ask me nicely or you won't get it at all."
with
eren
-> Hobo Eren? Paths Eren? Mountain God Eren? Man bun Eren? Demon Eren? Plug Eren? Urban farmer Eren? Meta Eren? Ereh? Ur choice, my dude.
ISN'T THAT SO CRAZY MICA wow i'm gonna get all emotional (': what a crazy journey we have been on ahhh ily
this is so meta mica because i specifically wrote this for YOU as it is your birth season so i hope u enjoy!!
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content: fem bodied reader x boyfriend eren, smut lite, eren's a brat calling you a brat, birthday sex (fingies) *hip thrusts*, praise kink and a sprinkle of humiliation, minors/ageless blogs do not interact!
wc: a little over 1k
1 year celebration prompts! I will be taking these until Sunday 4/17!
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“Happy birthday, baby.”
A warm feather light touch travels down your spine, naked and exposed to the morning air. You haven’t opened your eyes quite yet, too comfortable in the spell of slumber, but that doesn’t stop the growth of a smile on your lips. The touch, fingers as you’ve discovered, circle patterns along your lower back, nails scratching every other swirl. 
Your mouth moves from the pillow beneath your head, “Thank you, Eren. Five more minutes?”
You can make out the blurry shape of him from the corner of your eye – his head by your waist, his body hovering over yours. He leans forward, brushing his lips against the skin he so delicately traces.
His smirk burns into your back as he says, “You want to celebrate your day by sleeping?”
“Just for five more minutes,” you chuckle sleepily. 
“But then how am I supposed to give you your morning birthday gift?” Eren’s hand turns flat, palm rubbing up between your shoulder blades.
You sigh in contentment at the action, but the question still passes through your parted lips, “Morning gift?”
“Mhm,” he hums. “Morning, lunch, dinner, so many presents planned for the day.”
“Seems excessive,” you remark without any true bite.
“I don’t think so,” Eren’s mouth follows the path of his hand, pecking and teasing at every goosebump that arises under his attention. “So you gotta get up, so I can treat my very special girl on her very special day.”
“Aren’t you just laying it on thick?” your laugh carries throughout the bedroom. “Alright, what’s my gift?”
“Well I’m not going to tell you now with that attitude,” he nips at your shoulder. His breath tickles at your ear as he leans in, “You wanted five more minutes, maybe that should be your gift.”
Those five minutes have come and gone though, and you’re wide awake. And besides, now you’re sort of excited to learn what your loving and affectionate boyfriend has planned for you, “It’s my birthday, you can’t be mean to me.”
“No, no,” Eren condescendingly coos. “By all means, sleep in and we can just skip your morning present. There’s more later on anyways.”
“Eren,” you groan. He mocks you, saying your name in the same tone. “Tell me?”
He chuckles, low and deep. It rumbles in his chest, you can feel it vibrate along the surface of your back. His skin slides deliciously against yours as he begins his descent, those teasing kisses replacing a response he owes you. His tongue peaks out here and there, finding a particularly interesting spot of naked skin, paying extra attention to whatever captures his attention.
Shivers plague your bones, your toes curl beneath the warmth of the blanket and suddenly you’re regretting your choice to sleep without any clothes on. In the light of day, Eren has a clear view on how exactly your body responds to his attentiveness. His hands work over your shoulders, smooth down your elbows, circle once over your knuckles until they make way to caress and squeeze over the shape of your torso. His fingers stop once they land on the back of your thighs, the tips digging into your flesh and tugging your legs apart. You follow without any verbal instruction.
His breathing sounds and feels heavier as he mouths over the roundness of your backside. His tongue becomes more reckless, doing what his fingers cannot do. The tip swirls wet and messy rings, leaving a coolness over your tingling skin once his lips come to greet the hand sprawled over your left thigh. You whimper, hoping he does more, knowing that he won’t until you’re crying out for it.
You almost give in immediately, “Eren, don’t tease.”
“Maybe this was supposed to be your first present, hm?” his exhale hits the dampening folds of your center. He must be eye level with the vitality of your desire by now – your cunt pounds and aches and yearns, “Too bad you want to go back to sleep.”
You bury your face in the pillow, your entire being burning with want, “Stop being mean!”
“Stop being a brat,” Eren counters in his gravelly tone. The wet muscle that’s been flirting over your skin is tortuous now, massaging and flicking at the crease of your inner thigh. 
You want to scream. You reel in back into a harsh bark, “I want my gift. I’m awake now.”
“So demanding,” he tuts. His adjacent thumb pulls at the bottom of your cheek, spreading you open further. You imagine he can see it all at this angle, your pulsing and dewness. 
You frown, the gnawing realization that you’ll have to set aside your pride to get what you want churns into a petty snarl, “You’re the one acting like a brat.”
Eren stops completely, and the stillness is alarming. Shivers run up the curve of your spine with new intentions. You know that there is only so much back talk Eren is willing to play with, even on your “very special day”. It’s comparable to a calm before a storm, where the breeze seems to halt, the earth feels as though it stops turning. 
His growl shatters the silence, “Want to rephrase that?”
Your lack of response speaks volumes. 
A palm leaves your thigh with the swiftness of lightning. Flexed digits dig into the back of your scalp, yanking your head away from the comfort of your pillow. A gasp gets caught in your throat, your eyes blinking away haziness at your headboard. Crystal clarity comes in the form of Eren’s threatening timbre.
“I said,” he shifts back up to your shoulder, spare hand cupping at your dripping sex without the relief of pressure. “Do you want to rephrase that?”
“I want it,” you choke, your hands grasping at the bed sheets. “Want you.”
“You’re gonna have to ask me nicely, or you won’t get it at all,” Eren’s tone drops back into the playful baritone he began with.
“Please, Eren,” you whimper, pride slipping from the mattress to form a puddle on the floor. 
“You can do better than that, baby,” he coos. The meat of his palm presses into the dripping folds of your pussy, smearing your arousal all over, it feels. “Tell me how sorry you are, how bad you want your birthday present. Make it sweet.”
“I’m sorry!” you rush out. “I want it, please, I’ll be good, I promise!”
“Pretty promise?” his teeth graze along your neck, his middle finger circles your entrance.
You nod fiercely, shaking and pleading, “Yes, yes! Please!”
“Good girl,” Eren praises, finally sinking his knuckle into the warm depths of your cunt. You moan without shame, closing your eyes and scrunching your eyebrows together. He repeats, “Good fucking girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
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LACHERI © 2022: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations.
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jammysworks · 8 months
Note
im just thinking about like having a really rough day and coming home to conrad and you’re just tired and you want to feel good and he’s such a sweetheart when it comes to you that he doesn’t tease you like normal, he just eats you out and fucks you and then holds you once you’re in that pleasure-induced haze until you fall asleep
this is such a cute idea. the second i read it i knew it needed to be done! 💗
smut after the cut
18+ MDNI
warnings: connie being a little sweetheart to reader, oral (fem receiving), lots of aftercare <3, p in v, sweet sex, dacryphilia, overstimulation, praise, pet names (baby, good girl, )
word count: 0.5k
your day was terrible. first, you got in an argument with your mom because you woke up later than usual. then, your boss got mad at you for being late even though it was your moms fault for holding you back at the house. the only thing you wanted was to be in conrad’s arms. so, the second you got home you went straight to him. diving your head into his chest. “what’s wrong, baby?” he hated when you had bad days but he always knew that he could fix it. “bad day…i just wanna feel good.” you whine while looking at him with half lidded “fuck me” eyes.
and that’s how you ended up here, with conrad’s face smushed against your pussy and licking up everything you gave him. his tongue licking a strip up your hole and sucking your clit. moans and whimpers becoming the constant aftermath of his ministrations. “thank—ah!—thank you, connie!” you hiccuped aloud as he continued what he was doing; his tongue darting into you and grazing against your walls, while his fingers drew circles on your hip bones and played with your nipples.
“i’m gonna cum” the sentence babbling out like the rest as you raked your nails through conrad’s hair, scratching against his scalp inflicting a groan to erupt from him. the vibrations being your main reason of the knot undoing in your lower abdomen, juices flowing out of your quivering hole. “that’s it..good girl.” he stood from between your legs with one last kiss against your bud, pulling his shirt and sweatpants off leaving him in his boxers. his noticeable bulge twitching from beneath the fabric. out of an act of muscle memory your hands reached for his boxers, pulling them down his thighs. “no, not today. you can give me a blowjob another day this is about you.” he said reaching to pull your hands away from his.
his hips slowly grinding against yours while you whined and moaned his name like a mantra; tears of sweet pleasure dripping down your cheeks. the tip of his dick coming close to slipping out when he pushed himself back into you again. repeating the action over and over until he heard you moan out a silent, “please..faster!” with a simple kiss to the forehead he began pounding into you, hands gently grasping your sides as he pulled you back against him. cries and whines releasing from your mouth, your smaller hands grasping onto his biceps as he lifted your legs up and placed them on his shoulders, seeming to get deeper into your pussy. the pleasurable haze you slipped into becoming more promenaient as your orgasm began to creep closer with each thrust. more slick being produced and leaking down his cock as you melted into the feeling. “go ahead baby, cum for me.” conrad groaned into your ear, the action prompting you to cream on him, the liquid dripping down and coating his thighs.
his own relief pouncing at him shortly after your own, causing his hips to move in a sloppier pattern. the sticky liquid filling up your walls, a warm feeling seeping through your stomach as he pulled out and pushed any residue back into your hole.
bending forward, he placed a meaningful kiss onto your lips and pulled away to reach for clothes for both you and him. his hands finding placement on one of his sweaters and a pair of your panties you left, tossing the clothes onto the bed while he dressed himself into a pair of his boxers. after finishing, he sat on the edge of his mattress to put the clothes on you. slipping under the covers next to you cuddling up close with your warm body as you drifted off into sleep from the exhausting haze he left you in.
this took way longer than it should have i’m sorry but i hope this is ok <3
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rinhaler · 5 months
Note
I will kiss you and hold you and pet you and call you a good girl if you write a toji os abt him having a one nightstand with someone and when he’s undressing them he unzips their dress WITH HIS TEETHHHHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA……….. anyways!!! :3
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am i a good girl now :(((
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, soft dom!toji (maybe), alcohol consumption, squirting, fingering, face-sitting, vaginal sex, tit sucking, praise, slight degradation, reader passes out for a sec.
words: 2.4k
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“Can I buy you a drink?” a handsome stranger asks you as you sit by your lonesome at the bar. You came here with your friend, who has since disappeared since locating her ex-boyfriend. And you suspect he won’t be an ex for much longer. The attention makes you giddy. His scar pulling as he smirks at you, a grin that grows wider when you nod. He pulls out his card and waits to flag down a bar tender. “I’m Toji, by the way.”
You introduce yourself and you curse yourself for how pathetic you must seem. It’s embarrassing, really, feeling so accomplished that a man deemed you worthy enough to talk to and buy a drink for. He’s like a model, possessing a wide build and tall figure. He could have any woman here if he wanted, you’re sure. And despite your inner monologue telling you to act coy, you’re sure you’re a bashful fool.
He orders you the same blue lagoon cocktail you’ve already had three of, and himself a lemonade.
“You don’t drink?” you ask him.
“Nah, it doesn’t really affect me.”
You shrug, slurping the ice cold cocktail through a metal straw you brought from home. He smirks at that, noting that you’re the type to prepare this much for what he’s sure is meant to be a casual night out. And he asks you questions about yourself that you’re so willing to answer. You ask him questions about himself that he answers too, though the responses are surface level and simple. The mystery only adds to his allure.
He's funny, effortlessly. Everything he says seems to make you giggle. You’re a cliché, too, twirling your hair as you hang on his every word. It’s a mix or attraction and intoxication. Is he really so interesting and funny or are you just wet and transfixed by his looks?
Your laughter dies out when you feel a tap on your shoulder. It’s your friend, coming to say goodbye. She points at her ex and tells you she’s leaving with him.
So much for girl code.
Though she does offer you to hop in the taxi with them so you can go home. But you don’t want to leave Toji. You want to keep making a lovesick fool of yourself for him and maybe see where the night takes you. So she waves and you focus on the older looking man beside you. He licks his lips, his scar glistening under the everchanging technicolour lights flooding the club.
“Wanna get going, gorgeous?” he asks, leaning over to speak into your ear. The rough gravel to his voice rushing straight to your pulsing cunt. You shouldn’t, really, should you? It’s not smart to go home with guys you’ve never met. You don’t know him or his intentions, he could be plying you with alcohol to get you stupid enough to kill you.
“Mhmm.” you nod, dumbly, consequences be damned. If you die, you’ll die by the hand of a man so beautiful you’d think an angel would cry at his presence. He takes your hand, leading you outside and hailing a cab. You at least have the sense to go to your place, knowing your cousin lives a few doors down and will surely here if things go wrong.
He kisses you deeply in the back of the cab, fingers digging into your skin as he squeezes your plush thigh. You moan, lewdly, when he tells you to stick out your tongue and he sucks it before licking it with his own. Tongues tangling as he continues to squeeze and knead your malleable flesh.
“Head on up, I’ll follow you.” he tells you as he pulls out his wallet. You nod, agreeing, whispering your apartment number before clambering out of the car. The chill of the 2am air bites at your skin, and you hurry to the security door. You pull the key from your purse and rush inside.
Toji takes his time paying the driver, grunting as he puts his wallet away and slides out of his side of the car. He slowly skulks to the entrance, smiling when he realises you remembered to leave the latch for him to get inside. He sees a crowd gathered by the elevator and opts to take the stairs instead.
He smirks, gleefully, when he sees you waiting by the front door.
“Watcha doin’, gorgeous?” he wonders.
“Waiting for you.” you confess, looking down at your feet awkwardly as shame surges through your body.
He approaches, slowly. But before you know it you’re looking up at him and caged between his body and your front door. His hands rest against the frame as he studies your blown eyes and nervous face.
“Somethin’ tells me you’ve never had a one night stand before,” he smiles, scar pulling deliciously once again. You can barely form a thought unable to break yourself from the hypnotising mark on his lip. “Unlock the door.”
“I already did…” you gulp, nervously, still unable to tear your eyes away from his.
He likes your answer, picking you up so that your legs wrap around his waist and he lets himself into your home. Your lips lock and tongues clash as he controls the kiss, but your eagerness gets the better of you. Your hips rutting and soft moans pour from you as you portray yourself as a desperate slut for his benefit.
You pout, a little defeated, as he sets you back down. Though the disappoint dies an instantaneous death as he spins you around so your back is to him, pushing you into the wall by your entryway.
“Have you fucked a stranger before, princess?” he asks, brushing your hair from your shoulder and whispering devilishly into your ear. You shake your head, pathetic strings of ‘no!’ spilling from your lips as his fingers explore under your dress and pinch your ass. You bite your lip as you feel his heavy fingers prod at your drippy panties. He huffs out a laugh when he realises how wet you are. “Allllll of this jus’ for me? You shouldn’t have, darlin’.”
“B-Been wet… since you asked if I wanted a drink…” you tell him, giggling a little and hiding your face against the wall.
“No no no…” he objects, tugging your hair softly to draw you out. “Wanna see you, wanna see how you look when I ruin you.” you feel your body flush with heat at his words, turning your head to the side so he can see you again. You place your palms against the wall to brace yourself, not expecting him to pull your panties down your legs from under your dress.
He relishes in how you can barely keep your eyes open as he sinks two fingers into your sopping cunt and your panties drop to the ground. You bite your inner cheek, though it does little to keep you quiet as he curls his fingers against your spongy insides.
“Oh fuck.” you gasp, ashamed that you might cum after a few pathetic pumps of his fingers. Though it doesn’t feel right. You don’t want it to stop, but you don’t feel like you usually do when you’re close to cumming. “W-Wait.” you move your head and try to close your legs.
“Sh.” he stops you, kicking your ankles to keep your legs open. He holds your head against the wall with his forearm, his breathing heavy in your ear. You shudder when he kisses against it, chuckling quietly when he feels your pussy begin to clench. “Stop clenching, push. It’ll feel good, promise… push against me.” he commands.
You don’t know what’s he’s talking about. Push your body? No, he said stop clenching. You’re trying to keep him inside, keep the feeling inside. But he repeats it. Push. And like he’s the master of your cunt, it listens.
“Good girl, baby…” he praises you as he notes the pressure switch from your tender hole. You moan, and he coos. Faux sympathy as he fucks you dumb on his thick digits.
“Toji! Ngh—!” you moan. Clear liquid jets from your pussy, dripping down your thighs and soaking your panties and the floor beneath. He doesn’t let up, either, still battering his fingers against your g-spot.
“There you go, princess. Good fuckin’ girl… so good for me darlin’.” he moans, too, getting off on your pleasure and the striking realisation that you’ve never squirted before. He’s proud of himself, and he’s proud of you. “Fuckin’ soaked your pretty panties, sweetheart. Dirty little girl…” he teases.
You don’t have the energy to respond, already spent from cumming in such an alien way. He kisses your shoulder as your legs continue to shake. Any logic from the thought of telling him to stop fingering you dissipates when you think that he can you make you cum like that again.
He feels his hardened cock over his jeans as he looks down at the puddle beneath you. Still pumping his fingers against your sweet spot until your eyes roll over white. He can’t take it anymore. The unrelenting inner voice telling him to touch himself. He thinks he might die if he doesn’t stroke his length, even for a minute.
“Don’t move.” he orders.
You stay still, unsure of what he’s doing. Though you whimper as you feel his body press against yours. His head sinks to the top of your dress, and you just about cum again when you realise he’s biting down on the metal zipper, pulling it down with his teeth as exposing your bare back.
The black mini dress falls to the ground into the puddle of your lewdness and your drenched underwear.
“Good girl, stay there.”
He pulls off his t-shirt and tosses it aside down the hallway, only to be seen by the end of this dalliance. You hear him kick off his shoes and quickly throws away his socks. Eagerly, his pants follow, as do his underwear. He’s just as naked as you, now. And you choke out a breath as you hear him drop to his knees, licking up the mess on your thighs and pussy. But he turns around, sitting on his ass with his back against the wall, without a care for the wetness beneath. He wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling your cunt towards his face.
“Sit.” he instructs.
You do, without pause, moaning boisterously as he sucks at your clit and covers his face in your sweetness. One arm remains hooked around thigh while the other releases, hand in search of his aching length. He plays with himself, alternating between lazy strokes and passionate ones. The taste of your cunt makes him dizzy, unable to believe how much slick you’re producing as he relentlessly feasts on your flesh.
“F-fuck, Toji… finger me, please.” you beg. He’s leaking like crazy, and thinks your request might have come at the perfect time. He lets himself go in favour of pleasuring you, the sound of your sticky cunt squelching with each press throughout your eerie apartment. Neither of you had even found time to turn on a light, the only thing illuminating the room is the filtering light sneaking in through the cracks of your front door. “G’na cum, a-again… holy— s-shit.” you moan.
It spurs him on, maintaining all of his ministrations as he tries to coax your second orgasm out of you. He grunts, loudly, against your sodden folds as you squirt again. His face and hair doused with your release as he doesn’t dare pull away. The sadistic desire to prolong your ecstasy is fuelling him to keep going. He feels like he might cum untouched as he feels your cum cover him.
Your legs give, his burly arms hook around your thighs again in a bid to keep you stable. But his hands wander, impatiently. Fingers grip into your waist as he pulls you away from the wall.
He helps you down, hovering you above his longing cock as he guides it to your spent hole.
“I don’t have any condoms.” he tells you.
“Don’t care—” you assure him, wriggling your hips eagerly. “’m on the pill.”
“Greedy girl,” he smirks, pushing you down onto his cock. You want to scream from the stretch but you manage to refrain. He sets a ruthless pace, forcing you to accommodate to it quickly. “Been so sweet for me, darlin’. Gonna be nice ‘n do all the work for ya, okay? Say thank you.”
“T-Thank you! Thank you.” you babble nonsensically.
His knees are bent as he fucks up into your abused hole, the velocity propelling you forward. Your fingers clutch onto his shoulders for dear life as he takes advantage of your body being in such close proximity to his mouth. He sucks your tits, eliciting a dreamy moan from you. The gorgeous sounds you make for him have his cock drooling inside of your unprotected walls.
It's so sorrowful, really, thinking about how pathetic you both are. He seemed so calm and collected and yet neither of you could even make it through the hallway of your apartment before you were both stripped bare. You thought you’d be fucking comfortably on your bed. But here you are, being fucking destroyed by his monstrously large cock on the wooden, soaking, hallway floor.
“Gonna cum, baby.” he breathes against your spit soaked tits. The admission makes you cream, clenching around his thick, veiny cock as you brace yourself. “Fuck, darlin’, you’re gonna cum again. Can feel it, little cock slut. No one’ll fuck you like this again, y’know.”
“Ah- aaaah—!” is all you can say as a lesser stream of liquid shoots from you once more. The internal bliss you feel makes you pass out momentarily. But you come around quick enough to feel your untainted insides become stained with his white, creamy warmth.
He groans, deeply, bouncing you up and down his length. He wishes there was a light on to see the creamy ring and the messy puddle you’ve created together.
“You’re fuckin’ amazing, baby.” he tells you, grasping the crown of your head with his palm to guide you into a sloppy kiss. He manages to stand up whilst keeping himself slotted comfortably inside of you. You giggle as you guide him to the nearest light switch, and both of you look down at the mess you’ve made. Shame builds once again and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. “Awe, pretty girl made a dirty little mess f’me.” he teases you.
“Stop! ‘m so embarrassed!” you tell him, the sentence muffled as you talk into his skin.
“S’okay, rest up.” he tells you, stroking your back soothingly. “Give me a tour, wanna see the next place we can make a mess of.”
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© 2023 rinitxshi
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justadumbwh0re · 14 days
Text
hey look… its me!
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