#he suppressed his memories again

[intcrastra]

Yingxing is absolutely the person Jing Yuan considers his first love, and Dan Feng is the one he fell harder for after getting to know him. But the person he absolutely considers his biggest 'What if' is Igor.

[nochepsicodelica]

Thinking of how hard Toji gets to the scent of your body wash, shampoo, lotion etc. He has his own bottle of shampoo and body wash, yet there he is, lathering himself up head to toe with the sweet scents of your shower products. It's not unusual for him to squeeze the bottles to catch the gust of sweet air that comes out of them when he showers, just like it's not unusual for him to douse himself in your scent when he misses you.

You're working a late night shift, not home for another two hours, meaning Toji goes to bed alone. His phone isn't interesting enough when it doesn't buzz with messages from you or other important notices, so he sets it down on the nightstand and just stares up at the ceiling. His dick is hard and your scent is driving him absolutely insane, the way the sweet notes linger on his body. He can smell it prominently on his bare chest and his pillow radiates the scent of your shampoo due to his slightly damp hair. He can't even pretend like he's comfortable enough to sleep this way.

(NSFW Below)

He groans in frustration, so hesitant in following through with beating his dick. This is stupid. It's not you, you're not home in bed with him yet, yet it's like your saccharine presence is wrapping around him, just adding on to the temptation.

After going back and forth for what seems like forever, he bites. He needs you. You're infesting his mind, clouding any other thought that doesn't involve you. This scent that normally goes on your body... your soft, sweet, delicate body- God, he misses you.

He rolls onto your side of the bed, bringing his pillow along. Your bottle of perfume sits in the first drawer of your nightstand, where Toji blindly digs around until he has it in his hand. Such a small bottle of poison. Once you run out, he'll gladly buy it for you again.

He spritzes the fragrance once, accidentally doing so with the nozzle facing him. He can't even be annoyed as he wipes it off his lips and nose with the back of his hand. The scent is smeared on the lower half of his face now, and his cock is twitching uncontrollably in his boxer briefs. All he can smell is you. The scent is already so strong, yet he's turning the nozzle and spraying it into the air again and again until the entire bed smells like you. He doesn't notice that the small bottle is half empty now, even as he puts it back in your drawer.

He lays back on the bed, satisfied with the sweetness that engulfs his nose, so merciful and gentle on him, causing him to act the opposite way as he takes his leaking cock into his fist and makes himself cum way too fast. He feels pathetic, groaning loudly after cumming within less than a minute. There's no one there watching, yet his cheeks grow warm at the mess he made within such a short amount of time. It's not enough to prevent him from going at it again. He's still hard. He has another one in him.

His mind hasn't shut down and it keeps projecting memories of you. A mix of loving ones—like when you happily twirled for him in a flowy dress that you said you always wanted to wear but didn't feel pretty enough for, or that time your nose scrunched in disgust at a cafe after trying something new and not liking it.

Toji lets out a breathy, deep laugh at the memory, before the more lewd memories with you start flooding his mind. Like the time he had to suppress the sound of your moans with his hand, so that you wouldn't get caught screwing in one of the bathroom stalls of a restaurant, or the times when you get all clingy with him and start kissing him all over until you end up sucking him off, or the fucked out expression on your face when he eats you out until you're crying and your knuckles go pale from how hard you fist the sheets beneath you.

"Fuck," he groans, all raspy and low as he furiously glides his hand up and down his messy length. "Come on," he utters through a heavy breath. "Fuck me, mama..." he huffs. "Just-" his breath hitches, "just like that." His eyes are closed so that he can vividly picture you bouncing on his dick. He starts thrusting into his fist, his abs quivering as he chases the climax that he's been building up. His breaths become heavier and they're rapidly released into the air, before he's spewing spurts of cum all over his abdomen and hand again. His brows pinch, and his jaw hangs open to release shamelessly loud groans. He's arching his back off the mattress as he continues fisting his twitching cock to get it all out. He's gasping as he squeezes his swollen, sensitive tip, thumbing at the slit until he can't handle the stimulation anymore.

He takes a few minutes to calm down before he sluggishly makes his way to the bathroom to clean himself up. It doesn't take very long for his heavy eyelids to shut and for him to fall into slumber once he slides into bed again. He feels good and everything still smells like you.

When you finally get home, all the lights are off except the porch light. The first thing you do is search for Toji. It's late, he's most likely sleeping, so you stride over to your shared bedroom first.

You were correct. He's knocked out, not on his side of the bed, but in the middle. The whole room smells so much like your favorite perfume, to the point where your nose burns and feels stuffy. You're wondering if you forgot to put it away and Toji dropped it by accident and it spilled everywhere, or if the bottle spontaneously exploded. You don't want to make any more wild assumptions, so you walk over to your nightstand and look for it where you last remember putting it. It's still in there, but a little more than half of it is gone. There are no cracks or damage overall to the bottle or nozzle, so it's just a huge point of confusion to you. It was a brand new bottle, you had only been using it for a few days, so of course you're a little irked to find that the majority of it is gone.

The only thing holding up your sanity is the sight of your handsome man sleeping so soundly.

[moondirti]

141 x f! READER. [3k] — AO3 dub/noncon. age gaps. pregnancy. toxic price. implied kidnapping. daddy kink. uncle kink (?). gangbang. lactation. voyeurism. oral (f! receiving). feet stuff.

The captain does not keep his spoils to himself.

He's always been that way, Kyle thinks. Even before he bound them with gossamer strings, webbing his prodigal boys together under a three digit moniker — he'd feed a little bit of his pride into every conversation. Easy to spot in hindsight, the golden broach of morning illuminating spun beginnings, dew dotted on translucent lines. He heard of Johnny before he knew him. Simon, too.

It simply isn’t like him.

But you, on the other hand—

Now he's never heard of you.

And he's sure it isn't a lapse of memory. Kyle would be hard-pressed to forget a conversation of that ilk, or the mental image of his captain with someone so fresh. Skin still downy-feather soft, the whites of your eyes bright and wet, hands unsure as the porcelain bones within them. Nescient of strife, death. The metallic aftertaste of gunpowder, or the way a scar will adopt a gnarled edge. It astounds him for a moment, to think that someone could go their whole life unburdened by these things — but then again, your neck seems accustomed to the possessive curl of Price's fingers. The bullish way he urges you forward, polished feet stumbling over each other to greet the overgrown men at the door.

Fawn-like, he resolves, as you suppress your fear with practised blinks, a grimace breaking your face when Johnny wraps a rough palm around yours, shaking too forcefully to be considered polite, jostling the cleavage barely concealed by a low-cut babydoll dress. It's a combined appraisal of your attire, the late hour, your squinted eyes — still sleep drenched — that tells him you didn't know they were coming.

Funny, seeing as they received the invite a fortnight ago.

(got something t'show you. been meaning to for a while.)

It's more than something, he'd say. Caught off guard, you cling to Price, sticky demurral ensnared by the hair of his forearm, a pace behind while he leads his men to the parlour. The light is low throughout the halls — which, if he were being honest, are cosier than anticipated. It would've been anyone's guess that the captain retreated to a house of concrete during his time off, utilitarian as he is — and Kyle feels as though he's intruding upon a dream. A surreal approximation of reality, where harsher lines blur into curves and calluses are softened like under the run of hot water.

His tongue is heavy when he swallows. Behind him, Johnny whispers something to Simon, who does not reply and has yet to speak.

No reason to. You don't ask for their poison once they're settled. Conditioned, you uncap what he recognises as Price's favourite single malt and pour three fingers worth (your closest measure to two of their own) for everyone. It gains you an appreciative pat from Simon, palm heavy on the back of your leg. A rush of noise in the unsteady silence. Too sudden, he thinks — for you jump and scamper, tucking, shaken, into an armchair's side.

Kyle feels his lungs squeeze when you pass by him, the air cradling a waft of cashmere musk and bluebell. It announces something he'd rather not voice. Something they all must be thinking. A question of pause, hesitancy, in face of the way your perfumed curves dangle blatantly before them. They're strangers to holding back. Nothing's demanded deference before — this quelling of predatory instinct. Johnny's smile gleams, his shark teeth struggling to stay clenched. Simon's eyes dry out the longer he stares, red fissures spelling out want so clearly it makes him reconsider his own.

His drink carves a path through the doubt in his throat. Flitting over to the captain, he watches for a reaction to Simon's transgression.

None comes.

So the man on trial sinks into his seat, exonerated. His mask has since been tucked beneath his chin, lips, more scar tissue than anything, contorting with amusement.

"Y'have to excuse me, lads." Price says, tugging you across the safe distance you've made and into his arms. It's even more startling a sight now, your body pinned to the canvas of his larger one. This Eleusinian contrast; Persephone, pomegranate carnage smeared over her mouth, impelled to spend her days with a force that means death to so many. Kyle wonders just which meadow he managed to pluck you from, what flowers you'd been weaving when it happened.

"Been keepin' this one from you," He walks you forward another step. "was building something... delicate, see. Had to wait until th' timing was right."

"Wuid nae blame ye, Cap." Johnny licks his lips, drying sweaty palms on denim, fingers curling in and out to work through the fervour.

"Jumpy lil thing, i'n't she?" Simon returns. "Would'a made like a rabbit in shock."

"Needed to be broken in first, naturally." Kyle breathes, stomach cramping with the enormity of his desire. His ears ring with a feverish pitch. Every time he blinks, it's a few seconds before his vision comes back to him.

Your nose turns away, lashes stitching together to keep the tears at bay. He can almost feel the mortification spilling hotly off your flesh, pooling, sappy thick, to glue itself wantonly on their boots. In his periphery, Johnny lurches forward, fondling the lace edge of your night dress as if to console you.

"Mm. Still a ways to go, but–" Price cups your wrists in one hand, tightening only to guide them well above your midriff. "now tha' I know she won't run off, she can finally meet her uncles."

And it's that resolve, the flag bearing that has led them to bloodshed countless times, that preludes this next march. All of a sudden, what was off limits is thrust into their reach — on stumbling, wary legs, heels digging grudgingly into the dirt, but still there, for the taking.

(Jowls aching, salivate blooming heavily beneath a writhing tongue. It's like he's been clipped off the dog house. Unleashed. And no matter how hard he tries to find it — desperately, his hindbrain sifting through layers of depravity for the righteous man he once was — he cannot muster much concern for your say in it all.)

"Ye sure aboot that?" Johnny's eyes are as wide as saucers. Having since slipped off his seat, kneeled as he is, he's borderline reverent in this light. Looking above for security, for assent, crux immissa a dull gold between his pecs. Your diaphanous dress grows opaque where his fist curls through it, shivering with every tremble of flesh. It is not your permission he is asking for, of course.

Price nods.

"Take a look yourself, son. Go on." He says, hooking an ankle to keep you rooted in place. The scot lifts the fabric so quick it tears, coming apart in tatters. If he'd been more deliberate with it, Kyle would have taken the time to appreciate the reveal—

The rounded brackets of your thighs. Their fattened inner lines. How your panties barely fit over your hips, folded over so that your mons peaks over the trim. Tufts of pubic hair, not as neatly defined as the rest of your appearance but laying flat, as though they were brushed. Groomed.

They all take a backseat to your stomach.

Swollen, belly button protruding, darker line down the middle. Not nearly full term, but perhaps well into your second trimester, the baby just small enough to be hidden by loose garments. Your lips screw into a pout, wet shame slipping down your cheeks as the heart of their invite comes to light. Kyle wonders, almost angrily, what there is to be ashamed of.

(Nothing. Nothing. Not when the captain beams as he does, crows feet making a brief and rare emergence. If he could, he'd pay ten times your dues to see it up just a moment longer.)

Simon squeezes the bulge in his trousers, jaw ticking with perversion. While adjusting himself, he's honed in on Johnny, who trails open-mouthed kisses up the underside of your belly. You flail a little at the hot press of his tongue, wiggling into Price for salvation that does not come. He holds you still for the ravaging, fingers clamping around your wrists, and Kyle delights in your expression. Slow acquiescence, dawning on the realisation that there is no backing away from this.

"It's been hard so far, but would you look at what's come of it." He hums, nosing your temple until you bend. Behind the coarse thicket of his moustache, his teeth briefly gleam. Then, Kyle watches with rapt fascination as Price latches onto your earlobe. "Giving me what I've always asked for. Now, I needed to reward her somehow."

Simon barks a laugh, the jagged edge of it razing up your legs. "Congratulations." He derides. Your toes curl into the carpeted floor; finding purchase, or comfort, in the plush fibres. Used to being the end of a joke.

Price joins in, too. Just for a brief moment, something warm and all-knowing crackling from his chest, before he turns to Kyle, expectant. "Garrick?"

Only as he clears the fog in his larynx does he realise how quiet he's been throughout this ordeal.

"Congrats."

The captain does not comment on the grit in his tone.

"Isn't tha' nice?" He whispers to you instead, undoing the ribbon keeping your décolletage together. It's a wonder your breasts haven't burst from it already, tender and heavy, visibly relieved once the straps slip off your shoulders. You match their intrigue with equal parts dread, damp lashes downcast, lips a small O — unable to do anything but watch as your tits spill out into the open air.

"Gettin' harder tae forgive ye fur holdin' oot on us." Johnny groans, sitting back on his haunches to admire the view himself. His mohawk skims a nipple in the motions, scouring the flushed tissue, and you squeal. It's just the unseemly match to throw you further off kilter; Johnny's intensity is scalding, an attention so zealous it forces you to regress into prey. If Kyle focuses, he can see the quick-tick pulse drumming in your neck.

"Doesn’ matter no more, does it?" Simon says, patting his lap. "Why don't you c'mere, bird, show us your thanks. Don't tell me daddy didn' train you proper."

The last dregs of scepticism drain from his pores when Price nudges you forward, tumbling over, straight seated onto his lieutenant's lap. With all the composure of a fisherman feeding bait onto a hook, casting it out to the sharks, he finds his seat again as Simon seizes you under his limbs, adding to his drink to watch you be pried apart for the evening.

His paws look huge against your torso, stationed there to haul you by the chest so your back conforms to his front. Scarred knuckles ripple, thick fingers kneading into fat, disfiguring your tits to mirror the ugly skin stretched over his fists. Beyond saving after countless burns and cuts, cursed to a lifetime of spoiling everything he touches, too.

It's intentional, though. Cruel, but subdued. Simon does not use his strength when he catches your nipples between rough forefinger and thumb. Your breasts are already sore, raw and tender with the changes your body's going through. He only exploits that, fondling the swollen masses like toys, shoving his tongue down your mouth when you pitch your complaints. Plucks them, rolling the knotted peaks so that it gets too much by ways of overstimulation.

"I know they 'urt. Yeah, fat fuckin' jugs like these need to be milked, else it gets too much. Poor pet. Daddy's a selfish man, huh? Keepin' you from the attention you need." He huffs, nipping the thin skin over your jugular. If the degradation isn't enough to keep up with — which it is, your little legs kicking to combat the humiliation churning your stomach — Johnny's hunger etches itself plainly upon his face. Pupils the size of the sun, drool slicking the cracks of his chapped lips.

Kyle spoors his interest to the space between your legs.

(A competitive flame lights in him, kindled by the knowledge of what Johnny wants. It sears him out of the voyeuristic stupor he's kept so far. All too suddenly, his teeth ache with the same violent desire, the sight of your pussy trapped behind soaked cotton the only meal he can ever imagine wanting.)

Johnny pounces.

Blinded by his holy grail, he does not dodge your foot when it aims for his head. You — trapped, dazed, in the process of being devoured by their lieutenant — only catch him from the corner of your eye, tongue sucked over your shoulder, eyes incessantly teary. Kyle knows you do not mean to hit him, only to ward him off with your flailing limbs. But your vision is impaired, and your heel makes contact with his chin, anyway.

It's about the worst thing you can do for yourself.

The scot moans, hips bucking into nothing. Like a dog, his impulses easily deflect, new sights set on the foot you so graciously offered him. His mouth unhinges, tongue extending as far as it can to lave over the sole, nipping around its pillowy edge. Your toes, perfectly manicured, attempt to flick him away, sternum caving as you hold back desperate little laughs at the sensation. It draws his attention upward, eyes flitting maniacally to and from your face, lips popping around your innermost toe and assessing the way you react. Sucking it into his mouth when you're not as enthusiastic, one hand cradled around your twisting ankle, the other palming clumsily at his crotch, growing more and more erratic the shorter your breaths get.

Kyle takes his chance. Folds his collar, and unfastens the first few buttons of his dress shirt. No one pays much heed to him — not Simon, whose hands remain fixed on your heaving tits (leakin' like a bloody cow, pet. look'it it, drenchin' my palms); Johnny, seemingly endlessly enthused by your feet; or you, your work cut out between the two of them, back arched, round stomach thrust up. Skin glossy no matter where he looks; heels covered in spit, legs in sweat, tits and stomach in breastmilk.

He faces Price.

The captain has not faded from the foreground. Though he sits, perched in an armchair across the parlour, Kyle still feels him weaving iron filigrees of influence around their every limb. Like he's standing above them, puppeteering — or, rather, making good of the years of practised obedience, their bodies whittled into vessels for his will. The cool pour of it fuels this system, lends them strength to do what they've never trusted themselves to do. It is just as good as his hands groping your chest, his mouth at your feet. His passion they lay onto your poor flesh.

And they are just as good as his, in turn.

His shoulders stretch wider when he turns back to you. His voice a little clearer. "Thanks for the opening, mate." He taunts Johnny, snickering at the defiant twitch of his brow, before sinking to his knees.

The gusset of your panties is near translucent, drenched with arousal. Kyle takes a moment to admire how your pussy twitches, clit pulsing, white cotton slipping over it in concert with every spasming muscle. He can see it all like this — the oil-spill slick webbing your inner thighs, the swollen lips slowly engulfing the fabric on either side, the gentle flutter of your vulva. Pure hunger compels him forward, lips pressing over the sloppy mess, nose crushing into your mons and taking a lung-mangling whiff.

Tangy. Underpinned by a certain earthiness, like molasses but bittersweet. Your scent darts through his cerebral cortex, bridging synapses together until everything is that much clearer. Tunnel visioned, dead set on lapping it until your taste becomes a tangible weight in his stomach. Kyle's cock, already hard and leaking, jumps suddenly against the constricting button of his trousers, balls aching, looking to release the pleasure ballooning in his pelvis.

He nips, pulls your panties away with his teeth, sucking the spoiled cotton into his mouth to make the most of the slick you wasted on it. It isn't nearly enough, not as tart as it would be undiluted by his spit, so he snaps it to the side only moments later to dive face first into your cunt.

And it's a warm welcome. Balmy heat glides over his nose, spilling into his mouth like manna out of heaven. It's a feverish kiss, akin only to the throb of a wound about to fester, heartbeat about to erupt out the surface of your skin. Kyle would be concerned if not for the folds he had to explore, the dip before your insides pulse open for him, the tributaries drawn from your centre. His tongue twists your clit, grinds it under pressure, lifts the hood and targets a point that feels like too much. Your moans grow into whines that grow into sobs, air clotting with a symphony of lewd sounds. Tacky schlicks, slobbering, panting. The clink of ice in Price's glass. Simon's ceaseless insult to injury, degradation a molten river out his mouth.

"Crying, an' we 'aven' started on ya yet. Poor baby. Isn' a slut s'posed to be good a' this? Jus' gonna sit 'ere and wail for yer daddy, all while we do the heavy lifting." From his vantage point, peeking beneath his brows, your tits seem to have grown used to the lieutenant's abuse. A little less swollen, doughy in his big, nasty hands — though what they now lack in ripeness, they make up for in a hundred little bruises, already purpling. Dark and vibrant, the milk still trickling from your puffy areolas borderline pearlescent in contrast. "Look'it them."

He grabs your cheeks, forcing you to peer down at the men stationed below. Kyle, though occupied, does his best to smile. He feels Johnny puff up behind him — when he worked his way up your leg, he doesn't know.

"Nnnghhh."

"Say it." His nose crooks where he thrusts it against your temple, lip curling cruelly over your ear. A vein splits the planes of his jaw, arm bulging to reach up for your neck. Your face turns a shade darker, mouth puckering the deeper his tongue thrusts up your pussy. The words lodge in your throat, teeth chattering uselessly around unshaped air. Johnny hovers behind him. Price burns approving holes onto his back.

He doesn't expect it to happen as it does.

Your ass tenses, suddenly firm, lifting you off of Simon's lap. Kyle's hands smooth up his erection, his fingers digging into the plush crests of your pussy. Spreads them apart to be able to drive his maw further in, searching for just the right spot inside you.

But in the end, what does it is the accidental graze of his incisors over your clit. You burst, floodgates dissolving straight into his mouth — soaking the entire lower half of his face, the buttons he undid serving no other purpose than having exposed his chest to your mess, matting the dusting of hair over his pecs.

You don't look at any of them as you come down. Instead, your eyes prune shut, crusted in tears yet still snivelling wretchedly, trying to sniff and take back all that unfolded. Something buried in his heart twinges; resonant but stifled under layers of arousal. His cock spits pre-spend over his boxers, too heavy now to stand upright.

Simon does not take pity on you, flicking an oversensitive nipple.

"Still waiting." He says.

Your voice is barely legible. Raspy and whistle-toned. It occurs to him, as you sit there and muster enough energy to voice what's expected of you, that Kyle has yet to hear you speak.

"Thank you."

"Na fair." Johnny huffs against your cunt, eyes rolled to the back of his head, scleras foggy with desire. He's since shouldered his way beside him — the two sergeants sat between your spread legs —hopelessly chasing the climax Kyle managed to syphon out of you, mouth opened just in case you squirt again.

"You won't get very far with that, mate." His ego feels imperishable, amassing like a star before death. It cramps his ribs, makes him feel like nothing will ever amount to the way it crowds his chest. A smug smile stitching his lips. They both know that the half-dazed efforts won't amount to much. "Jus' focus on what you're good at, yeah?"

Not ones’ for subtly with each other, he guides Johnny hand to wrap around his width. The scot perks up, looking at Kyle's hard-on, then you, then his hard-on, then you.

"Dinnae want tae save your energy for the lass?"

But Simon's already unleashed his own cock — ruddy, angry, monstrous — lining it up to your exhausted hole. The head alone spans the space between your thighs, and judging by the panicked look wringing your little face, he shrugs.

"Think it'll be a while before he stretches her out."

[alicentofhightower]

the cost of a dragon

pairing: addam velaryon x wife!reader

synopsis: addam is covered in cuts and scrapes from falling and running in the forest, and now you must take care of him.

includes: fluff, episode 6 heavy spoilers, probably historically inaccurate w some parts but we’re just gonna Let That Slide, not proofread again oops

wc: 1.3k

a/n: i love him so bad. rn my top 3 tb characters are rhaenyra rhaena and addam. he’s so sweet!! i really hope we get to see a lot more of him in the next few episodes

-

Addam is bewildered when he returns to your home, panting, eyes wide and mouth agape. You’ve never seen him like this, but you guess that it’s the dragon laying beside your house that’s done it.

“What’s happened?” You exclaim when you see the way he’s stumbled in, bleeding from a cut on his cheek.

“…The, the dragon,” He mumbles, locked hair spilling over his shoulders. Addam walks over to where you stand by the kitchen table, hands gently grasping your forearms, as yours do his, thumbs running over your skin to ground himself. He smells strange, like something otherworldly. Could it have been because of the beast outside your door?

“It came to me, followed me through the woods by the shore. I think I’ve claimed him. Yes, that’s what I’ve done. I must go.” Addam attempts to retract himself from your grip, but to no avail.

The pots and pans inside rattle when the silver creature lay its head on the yard outside, no doubt resting from its flight. “Please, my love,” Addam insists. “I need to go and see the queen myself. She is in need of more dragons herself, is she not? If I serve her, perhaps she will allow you and I to live at Dragonstone with her. This is our chance.”

You shake your head, apron ruffling from the beach’s wind blowing through the window. Addam has always been ambitious, has always wanted the best for you and himself. He’s fiercely loyal to you, a quality that made you want to marry him in the first place.

“Addam.” Your hands fly up to cup his cheeks, stopping him from continuing on with his tangent. “You’re covered in gashes and dirt and sand. At least let me lend you a hand.”

He softens at that, jaw seeming to unclench. Addam’s brown eyes have always been expressive, and now they seem to look at you as if you’re the sweetest person he’s ever known. “…I suppose you’re right,” He mutters, “but we must make haste.”

Finally, you let go of each other. You use one of your hands to intertwine your fingers with his, and the other to grip your skirts as you lead him to your room. It’s small and modest, mostly swallowed up by the bed you share. “Sit,” You say, almost commandingly, quickly fetching a spare piece of cloth by the tub in the main room and a bowl of water.

Addam’s eyes almost glint at the way you flounce about before him. He spreads his legs so you are able to stand between them, chin tilting up so he can make eye contact with you while you fix him up.

“Let me see.”

He holds out his right arm, palm up, covered in tiny scratches and sand from his poor attempt to escape from his new dragon. Seasmoke, he remembers. Addam squeezes your right hand lightly while the other cleans him up.

You barely manage to suppress a heavy scoff at the mess in front of you, but you dab gently at it with the towel anyway, soaked with water. “What did you do?” You ask, brows knitting together. “Did you try to run from it?”

“Yes,” He admits, face scrunching together at the fresh memory. You’ve told him to be careful of the sky-beasts constantly looming over the two of you, and he knows he’ll be scolded for trying to escape the damn thing.

You shake your head, mostly to yourself, and Addam’s shoulders deflate. “Well, what would you have done?” He asks, exasperated. “My apologies for wanting to come home to you tonight.”

You pinch his arm. “I only worry for you,” You say, voice soft. Addam and his brother, Alyn, are the only family you’ve left; you’d never known your father, and your sweet mother had died of a fever shortly after your seventeenth nameday. She hadn’t been able to last, to see you wed the man you love so dearly.

“…What will you say, when you see Queen Rhaenyra? She may think you are coming as a foe, to battle rather than service.”

Addam hisses as you brush against a particularly deep cut, eyes squeezing shut. “Sorry,” You say, and he only tips your interlaced fingers up to his lips and kisses the back of your hand.

Your husband pauses after he lets your hands back down, considering the weight of whatever his words to the Black Queen will mean. He almost thinks of it as a duty, to you and his brother. To further your ever so small family.

“I suppose the words will come to me when it happens.” He swallows harshly, eyes averted from yours, darting around like he’s telling himself to fucking think.

You’ve moved onto his other arm, now, and suddenly the odor of him has become unbearable. It’s nothing like anything you’ve smelled before.

Grimacing, you drop the washcloth and cover your nose with your hand, taking a step back. “What?” questions Addam, clearly confused. “What’s the matter?”

“Gods, you fucking stink. What is that?”

Addam laughs. He laughs, tension seeping out of him as he does. “It must be the dragon,” He claims, reaching out to grab your waist and pull you back towards him. “Don’t mind it, please.”

You’re unable to fight the smile you feel blooming, because despite the fact that your husband reeks of his new dragon sleeping outside your home, and your feet are sore from walking to the markets, only to find nothing, and your nerves are set ablaze thinking of his meeting with Rhaenyra, Addam is here. He’s here with you, holding you, safe in the comfort of your humble little home.

The feeling is fleeting, only settling in you for a moment, but you tip your head down to press a kiss to his mouth. “You must be vigilant,” You plead when you pull away, ignoring the way Addam’s lips seem to chase after yours. “And you must return to me. I do not know what I would do if I were to lose you.”

“I will be. I swear it.”

You brush away the dried blood on his cheek with the cloth, frowning. “We should leave, shouldn’t we? Fly to Essos, where we will be safe without the threat of war. That dragon is large enough to saddle three, isn’t it? We can go-“

A thumb soothingly presses against your lips, silencing you. “…If I can put the thing to use, it will strengthen us. Strengthen whatever I have with my father.”

Addam had always been desperate to get the same attention from Lord Corlys that Alyn had always seemed to receive after he’d saved the man. You’d never spoken to the Lord Velaryon yourself before, but it was hard to miss the way he’d stare at you when you visited your husband in the shipyard, almost melancholically.

“I do not care for jewels and gowns and for you to be gilded in glory, Addam,” You state, pushing his wrist away from your face. “I care for you. Should we not go now? I could find your brother.”

“No.” He shakes his head, standing from the bed, now towering over you. His fingers, callused from his seemingly never-ending work on Lord Corlys’s ship, caress your waist almost reverently.

Almost every inch of your skin heats up when Addam leans down to kiss your chest, right where your heart is. The skin is covered by the sea-blue gown you wear, a white apron tied about your waist, and you shudder at the feel of his lips on such an intimate spot.

He kisses up from your bosom to your mouth again, firm and sweet and longing. There’s no guarantee you’ll ever see him again, but some strange part of you feels that all will be well. It’s a naive thought, perhaps, but one you welcome nonetheless.

“I will come back to you,” He promises, voice rasping. “I love you.”

[rbfclassy]

GIRLS ON FILM! — CHOSO KAMO

photographer!choso who just graduated university, broke and has no money. He starts applying to any jobs that are hiring, in dire need for money. He hopes to put his photography skills to use as it was something he studied in school. After two weeks of waiting for any places to call him, he gets a gig at a small photography studio in Tokyo. He immediately takes the job, smile on his face as he walks in with his camera in hand. They didn’t even interview or ask to look at his portfolio, they instantly put him on set, directing him around and giving him orders. He thought nothing of it until he saw you walk out onto the set, covered in silk robe, makeup and hair done. You quite literally took his breath away when you undid the robe, letting it fall to the floor, revealing your nude body.

The place that had hired him was nude photography studio. He couldn’t think straight, eyes glued to you as they ordered you how to pose, putting you in lewd positions that only made choso imagine how’d you look with his cock stuffed in you. He blinks his thoughts away, blush spreading across his cheeks as he averts his gaze from you. He raises his camera, angling it just right as he captures you in your most divine. Half lidded eyes staring back at him as your hands cup your tits. He snaps several photos, gulping when you change positions and arch your back, ass high in the hair. He starts to feel hot, his dick straining against his jeans as he struggles to breathe correctly. God, you were beautiful.

The entire photo shoot he never took his eyes off of you, following your figure when you walked off set in your robe. He clenched his jaw, encapsulated by your essence. It almost felt like it was just you and him in the room every time he snapped a photo of you. “You have the photos?” One the of the editors asked, snapping him back to reality.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Choso fumbled with his camera, nearly dropping it as he pulled out the sd card. Just as the editor was about to walk away, Choso asked, “who is that?”

“You mean y/n?” The editor furrowed her brows. “She’s an upcoming model.” They turned back around, walking away with the sd card. Beautiful name for a beautiful girl. He looked down at his camera, licking his lips.

Choso went back home that night, his thought plagued with images of you. “Shit,” he groaned, noticing the hard on in his sweats. He palmed his cock, clenching his eyes shut to try and get rid of these disgusting fantasies he had, but it only made him see you again. Bending you over and plowing into you until you cry, or ruining your makeup as he fucks your face, taking a picture of you after for memories. Snapping a photo while you ride his cock, tits bouncing in his face. He wonders how you feel and taste. How could he crave something he’s never had?

Next thing he knows, his fist is pumping his cock, moans falling past his plump limps as his eyes flutter shut. He imagines your wet cunt squeezing around him, milking him for what he’s worth. “Y/n, y/n, y/n,” he babbles, biting down on his bottom lip as he tries to suppress his moans. His breath gets caught his throat as his abs tenses up, feeling how close he was to cumming. “Mmmm, fuck,” he moans. His wrist moves in circular motions, from the base to the tip as he squeezes a little harder. As he pictures his cum filling you up, dripping from your pussy, his entire body quivers as spurts of thick cum shoot from his head, landing on his hand and stomach. “Nnnngh—shit!” He can’t stop moving his hand, tossing his back onto the pillow in pure ecstasy. “Fuck me, baby, please!” Oh how he wishes you could hear how desperate he was for you.

[slytherinshua]

WITHOUT WORDS

genre. fluff. maybe a bit suggestive?? warnings. making out. they're so in love it's disgusting(ly cute). half proofread. pairing. sunghoon x fem!reader. wc. 1.1k. request. no. a/n. i don't think i've watched any enhypen content since like spring 2022... but i still wrote this just to feed @hursheys brainrot so she better thank me smh.

Perhaps the only time where you could admire your boyfriend without getting embarrassingly hot in the face was when he was asleep. You weren’t sure how it was possible for someone to be so handsome, but Sunghoon surpassed perfection in many areas, so you had grown to accept it. The first morning light had just started to seep through the window, shining softly over Sunghoon’s face.

And, god, he just looked so pretty. His hair fell over his forehead, eyelids closed, lips slightly parted letting soft breaths out. You were practically hypnotised by him. Usually you weren’t so utterly down bad for him (well, no, you were), but you simply couldn’t take your eyes off of him this morning. 

You silently brushed his hair away from his face, your touch light and gentle so as to not disturb him. The light from the window hit his now exposed forehead and eyebrows, warming up his cool toned skin and taking your breath away. You would never not be in love with him.

Your eyes shifted to his perfect nose, and the little brown mole that dotted the side of his nose bridge. You gave in to the immediate urge to press a gentle kiss to it, despite knowing that the action would probably wake him up. He was bound to wake up sooner or later from the light anyway, and you knew he always liked waking up to your kisses.

Your hand cupped his cheek, a finger softly tracing his jawline and then eyebrow, as if you were memorising his every feature. When you lifted your hand, intent on bringing it back to rest by your side, your wrist was caught midway by Sunghoon’s fingers. Although his eyes were still closed, he guided your hand back to the side of his face, a silent plea for you to continue your gentle touch. 

Instead of opening his eyes, his lip twitched, threatening to lift up into a smile. He tried to suppress it, but he too was struggling with the butterflies that your touch gave him. When it was just you two, he felt like he was floating, heart completely caught in your hold. Just when he thought he was the happiest he ever could be, you proved him wrong.

He gave in, letting the breathless laugh that was fighting to emerge, out, gracing your ears with the sound. When he opened his eyes, he was met with his favourite sight, one that he was sure he would never get tired of. Sunghoon was well aware that he was debilitatingly in love with you, but he faced the feeling with pride. He allowed you to invade his every thought, direct his every decision, and dwell at the very centre of his universe. It was where you belonged. 

There were no words needed between you two. All sentiments were delivered through your eyes, as you both could read each other like it was second nature.

Sunghoon’s ebony eyes sparkled with many messages, the most obvious of which was I love you. After years of dating him, that was one you could never miss. There was rarely a time where you didn’t see it reflected in his irises. It had become a constant for Sunghoon. Loving you was simply a part of his identity. He wasn’t himself without the love that you brought out of him. 

Your fingers danced on his cheek again, committing the feeling of his smooth skin to memory. He had a busy day ahead of him, and you knew you wouldn’t be seeing his face again until the middle of the night, so you took your time, soaking him in for as long as you could. Sunghoon was attentive to this as well, but had something else on his mind regarding how to spend the time he had left with you. He caught your wrist, this time using it to bring you closer to him, your nose almost brushing against his.

“Let me kiss you.” Came his soft request, his voice deep and slightly raspy from sleep. You smiled, meeting his lips immediately. There would never be a time when you would refuse his wish to kiss you. You sighed when he kissed you back, the warmth of his love reaching you from his lips.

You bit his bottom lip gently, making him gasp. His lips parted just enough to allow your tongue past them, the movement causing goosebumps to rise on his skin. His hands slipped to your waist under the covers, circling his thumb over your skin under your pyjama shirt (which just so happened to be one of his old t-shirts). 

Sunghoon knew he would have to break away from you sooner than he wished in order to allow time to get ready for the day. This only urged him to kiss you deeper, drowning in the feeling of you. His tongue circled yours, the dance of lip and tongue feeling as natural as breathing. He knew exactly how you liked to be kissed, years of perfecting his skills ever clearer to you as he pulled you closer.

He wished he could kiss you for eternity. He wished he didn’t have to leave you or the bed. He wished he could call the day off and stay— stay with you for the rest of his life. He was sure he would do that, but not in the way he currently wanted to right now. His work was far too important to miss, as he had several important shoots to attend. He had to cut his losses, no matter how hard it was to leave you for the entire day.

So, he pulled away, although it broke his heart to do it. You let out a quiet whine, knowing that he had to leave soon and dreading it as much as he did. He soothed you with a few quick kisses to your cheek and nose, hand squeezing your hip before he sat up, eyes lingering on your figure under the covers.

He checked the time, panicking slightly when he realized that he may have kissed you for a minute or two longer than he should have. He’d have to cut his shower short. He grabbed the clothes he had picked out the night before and rushed to the bathroom, giving you a quick smile as he closed the door. You heard the shower run for no longer than 3 minutes, and the hurried movements of him brushing his teeth and changing. 

He emerged exactly 6 minutes later, grabbing his bag and blowing you a kiss before he left. You sighed, eyes focused on a random spot on the ceiling. The taste of Sunghoon’s lips lingered on yours, making you smile slightly. You already missed him, and it hadn’t been a minute since he left. You were so down bad for him.

You rolled over to his side of the bed, squishing your face into his pillow (which smelled just like him) and falling back asleep.

↳ enhypen taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @ddeonudepressions,, @minholing,, @delcakoo,,

@kpoprhia,, @weird-bookworm,, @cha3w0n-hearts,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,,

@amara-mars,, @wccycc,, @seunghancore,, @heavenfilm,, @sobun1est,,

@bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @sxmmerberries,, @talking-saxy,, @nicholasluvbot,,

@dimplewonie,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @stannwjnss,, @gong-fourz

[glossysoap]

pushing boundaries

all those hairy chest pics (esp this one) have me thinking of best friend/roommate soap who’s way too comfortable being shirtless naked around you. (soap who's way too comfortable pushing boundaries.)

18+, general boundary pushing, creepy soap, dubcon (forcing reader to touch him, but reader wants it), again - not as dark as a lot of things on here but i’m not very experienced in writing dubcon so 😅

he could be doing anything, and if he felt like showing himself off to you, he would find some excuse to do it.

if he was cooking? "what? the kitchen's too hot, bonnie! sweatin' my arse off in here." the entire time you were helping him cook, you'd be forced to watch his muscles ripple and flex, all shiny with sweat. your eyes would wander involuntarily, studying each scar and bruise that littered his tan freckled skin. from where you stood beside him , you could see where dark hair grew on his chest and stomach. you gulp as you see the tufts of hair that trailed down his stomach and into his sweatpants. you would be so distracted from ogling at him that you didn't see his lips stretch into a smirk.

if you two were watching a movie? "come on, bonnie," he drawls out as he lays back into the couch, eyes burning into your flustered form. with a grunt, he stretches his arm out and around your shoulders. he's so casual about it too - as if his muscular arm wasn't pressed flush against you, as if his body heat wasn't flooding your body, as if his natural musk wasn't flooding your nostrils. as if you couldn't see every ridge and ripple of his abs, every scar that you wanted to lick. as if you couldn't see every strand and curl of hair that littered his chest and abs. as if you couldn't see the patch of dark hair that trailed down past his waistband... no doubt covering the base of his cock that was also rock hard. "am i not allowed to be comfortable in my own home?" he would murmur the words in your ear, his breath fanning your sensitive skin and making you shiver.

the latter is when he's the worst. in addition to shedding his shirt and leaving his chest all exposed, he purposefully takes up a good chunk of the couch so you're forced to cuddle with him. if you've already taken your seat when he comes to sit down, he quickly stretches out and invades your bubble of personal space. not too long after, his heavy body will be stretched out on top of you. his head will usually be buried in your chest, nestled between the valley of your breasts. you try and ignore the way his hands always find a way to grope your tits.

if he's not laying on you, his gaze will be burning into you the whole time. he knows you stare (even if you try not to), he can feel your eyes sneak a glance at his exposed chest before darting away. he can see how your eyes widen and how your pulse thrums against your neck. he can see how flustered turned on you are, and he means to take full advantage of that.

“like what ye see?” he grins, drinking in every detail of your expression, committing to memory how you looked so skittish with your wide eyes and bitten lips. he couldn't suppress the chuckle that rumbled from his chest as you stumbled on your words.

"wha- i don't know what you're talking about!" your mouth gapes as you try to avoid his gaze, suddenly finding the mundane movie in front of you so interesting. much more interesting than the hard wall of muscle pressed up against you, whispering filthy things in your ear.

"no? yer not droolin' over yer best friends body?" he moves impossibly closer, tightening his hold on your shoulders and pulling you even tighter against him. as he spoke, his mouth came even closer to your ear until you could feel his lips grazing it. your breath hitched before you could help it. "yer not too busy starin' at me to watch the movie you picked out?" he nips at your ear.

you try to focus back on the movie, just ignoring him and not rewarding him with a reaction. if anything to just try and shed the embarrassing cloud hanging over you. if you were lucky, maybe he would forget about all of it and let you keep a shred of your dignity. not by a long shot.

"hey, hey, none of that." he chides harshly, using his free hand to grab your jaw and force you to look at him. your heart pounded in your ears as you were forced to stare up into your best friends eyes, and therefore being forced to see his hairy chest in your periphery. he feels your pulse race under his grip. he feels you gulp nervously. he laughs, all husky and hearty from deep in his chest.

he gives your jaw a good squeeze, almost daring you to look away.

when he's sure, and only when he's sure, that you won't move, he lets go of your jaw.

you almost sigh in relief when he lets your jaw go, but that's quickly cut short when he grabs your hand and makes you touch him. anywhere and everywhere.

you gasp as he holds your hand against his chest, feeling him so warm and sturdy underneath your palm. you try and pull your hand away but he just clicks his tongue in disapproval, and that's all it takes for you to get back in line.

as he forces you to touch his chest, you feel every detail you had spent so long staring at. you feel every scar and bruise that littered his skin, every tuft of hair that covered his chest. you could even feel his heartbeat race under your palm.

not long after he had initially yanked your hand to touch him was he now moving your hand down the span of his abs. you could feel every ridge and bump of his abs under your hand, as well as his hair growing thicker the further he moved your hand.

"yeah? ye like that?" he damn near purred in your ear as he watched your expression. he knew you would love him, love his body. he could tell you were enjoying being able to feel him up, no matter how nervous you acted.

speaking of nerves, he made sure to act fast before you yanked your hand away. he might not let you, but still.

"what about.. this?" he whispered in your ear as he finally slipped your hand into his sweatpants and planted your soft hand on his thick, throbbing cock. he heard your breath hitch in shock, but you didn't try to pull your hand away. "mmm, yeah. i knew you'd like my cock."

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

[itoshiexx]

when you call them "husband" - part. 2

how the blue lock boyfriends react when you call them "husband" - part 2

pairings: itoshi rin, michael kaiser, mikage reo x fem!reader (no descriptions tho, just the words "wife" on rin's part) (separate) | warnings: established relationship, fluff, lovesick boys

notes: I'M ALIVE! i cant believe how long it's been since i had time/energy/creativity to write something, ohmy goddddddd. i'm so sorry for all the time it took to post this, but i wanna ty all so much for all the love on part 1 and all the requests for part 2! hopefully this will meet your expectations ♥ as always, i went a lil' overboard with rin's part. enjoy!

part 1 / masterlist

Itoshi Rin

rin was not a fan of social media. it was clear with the way his instagram only had 8 pictures despite being years since his career started, and even more so by the fact he had no other social media besides that. if he wasn’t so famous, people would say itoshi rin was a ghost or some artificial intelligence invention. 

it was one of the reasons people were very shocked when he started dating you, an influencer with millions of followers on every platform. rin was a private person, and you… well, you shared your life on the internet for everyone to see. to say you were polar opposites was an understatement.

however, you never forced your boyfriend to appear in any of your socials, only recording things for your own fun and memories and posting only what he allowed. rin was glad for that. he didn’t mind doing dumb things with you to see you smile, as long as the rest of the world couldn’t see how whipped he was for you.

also, you were kind of glad the professional athlete was so unaware of social media, because it meant you could do a lot of tiktok trends without the risk of him already knowing what was coming — which made everything more satisfying. 

and the trend you chose that day was especially good.

“hey everyone, it’s y/n here!” you chirped, waving your hands in front of your phone. however, you were actually recording rin, who was at the other side waiting for your sign to appear on the screen.

you continued speaking. “today i have a very special guest, who i’m sure you’re all very familiar with.” you gave the camera a little cheeky wink, and your boyfriend rolled his eyes with all your theatrics. “please welcome itoshi rin, my handsome husband!”

rin gave a step forward to start his way to you, but suddenly, his whole body froze, brows furrowing in what you could only call utmost confusion. silence took over the room for what felt like an eternity, and you had to suppress your laugh seeing the imaginary ‘loading’ wheel on his head.

rin.exe stopped working.

“baby?” you decided to intervene, honestly a little scared of how immobile rin was.

“you— i’m— did you just— did we—”

you could no longer hold your laughter, and rin’s favorite melody echoing through the walls of your shared apartment was probably what snapped him out of his trance. he immediately scowled and crossed his arms, cheeks burning red from his pathetic stutter.

“i am never doing these dumb videos with you again.”

“no, no, i’m sorry!” your giggles kept going, and you approached your pouty boyfriend, squishing his cheeks between your hands. the smooch you gave him was almost enough to make him melt. almost. rin still had some self respect.

he also didn’t want to admit how abnormally fast his stone heart was beating with the mere thought of being referred to as your husband — and, even better, referring to you as his wife. 

fuck. that certainly did make him feel lots of things. those stupid butterflies that were born the minute you met were roaming freely in his stomach, soaring with all the love he had harbored just for you. 

“i’m sorry, baby,” you said again, smiling like you swallowed the sun and all things good in this world. you might as well have. how else could rin explain the way you were his everything? “it was a prank i saw on tiktok.”

he arched his eyebrow, arms uncrossing to put his hands on your waist. “oh? so you don’t want me to be your husband?”

the itoshi was satisfied to see you flushing this time. “i— w-well, you see…”

and then you started rambling, just like you did every time something made you nervous. and rin could only look at you as if nothing else was worth looking at, because really, to him, it wasn’t. 

…well, maybe the sight of you walking down the aisle would get the cake. he might have to find out soon. 

Michael Kaiser

once you started dating bastard munchen’s star, michael kaiser, it was natural to have his world collide with yours. everything from football to blue hair dye to weird sleeping habits became a part of you as well, and you nourished every expanse of your world his presence alone was able to give.

your favorite part, besides learning all of him — his little habits, quirks and love languages that seemed to be crafted solely for you — was definitely immersing yourself in his culture. germany always seemed distant and quite detached from your life, and you loved to learn new things from different perspectives. 

food, traditions, language… michael loved teaching you things, giddy and secretly grateful for your excitement. it was his sparkly eyes that prompted you to learn a few things by yourself to surprise him and make him happy. 

the tiktok trend was just a nice coincidence. 

you phone was hidden on the kitchen balcony, camera recording and waiting for the moment your boyfriend would arrive in your shared apartment. luckily, kaiser was very punctual, and you didn’t have to wait much longer.

“liebling, i’m home!” you heard him scream from the front door, and you giggled to yourself, pretending to be busy chopping vegetables for dinner. 

you waited for his footsteps to near where you were, and, as soon as you felt he entered the camera frame, you answered:

“welcome home, ehemann!”

you didn’t have to turn around to see the way kaiser completely froze; arms stopping just before reaching your waist as if your figure was an illusion created by his tired mind. you fought hard to suppress your grin.

“what… did you say…?” his voice was low and uncertain, but there was no annoyance in it; just pure confusion. 

turning your head around to finally look at him, you were pleased to find your mikka with rosy cheeks and a bashful expression, so extremely unusual for a guy like him you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter on your chest. 

you gave him your best innocent look. “huh? isn’t that how you say boyfriend?”

“i-it’s husband, liebe. you called me husband,” his tone was still incredulous, and this time, you couldn’t keep your smile off your face. 

“oh, did i?”

your countenance seemed to finally snap him out of his trance, and michael’s eyebrows shot up, scoffing slightly — albeit still endearingly. his arms circled your waist and he pressed a kiss on the side of your neck. 

“how mean of you, baby. playing with my heart like that.” he trailed more kisses on your neck and jaw, making you squirm. “you tryin’ to kill me or something?”

you giggled again, both from the ticklish kisses he was giving you and the huge amount of love you had harbored just for him. “of course not, baby. i need you alive to make you my husband,” you jested.

“oh, yeah? you wanna make me your husband?”

“yes.” you shifted, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek. kaiser hugged you a little tighter, feeling something fuzzy inside his chest. “is that a problem?”

“never,” he answered immediately. because it was true.

boyfriend, fiancé, partner, husband… michael didn’t mind what title would be bestowed to him — as long as he could keep being yours.

Mikage Reo

being the heir of one of the biggest corporations of the country and a professional football player made your boyfriend’s schedule pretty busy. therefore, thursdays like these, where you and him could have a nice walk around the park under the warm sunlight, hand in hand, were extremely rare — hence why they were so appreciated.

reo knew how much his frenetic agenda was a hard toll on your relationship, affecting both of you with distance, longing and short periods of time together. and, well, everyone knew how much of a goner he was for you, so it wasn’t surprising to see him give in whatever spare time he had in his hands — even going as far as making such time exist if there wasn’t any — to be with you for as long as he possibly could.

how could he deny your pretty little eyes pleading to have a stroll in the park with him ‘just for a few minutes?’

god, you were so selfless. he wanted to give you all of his minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years. and for all that’s worth, reo would never deny you of such a thing — he’d rather shoot himself than make you think you weren’t loved with every fiber of his being.

the weather was nice; a gentle breeze kissing both of your faces and making everything more pleasant. you were both chatting and appreciating the calm environment when you spotted an old lady a few feet ahead, selling different colored roses for the passersby. a smile was etched onto your lips, and you impulsively let go of reo’s hand to run towards her. 

“why hello, dear. would you like to buy a rose?”

your boyfriend watched you beam to the lady and slowly approached you, though still keeping his distance and trying hard not to intervene and buy all the roses for you. 

“yes, please! a red one would be perfect.”

“oh, who will you give it to?” asked the woman, already taking one flower from the bunch to hand it to you. 

your smile became slightly more bashful, “it’s for my husband!”

and fuck, if reo wasn’t already completely in love with you and thoroughly believed you were his soulmate until then, he certainly would after that very moment. he could feel his cheeks burning and his tongue rolling inside his mouth with how speechless he became. his heart soared with your words, excitement coursing through his veins with a love so overwhelming he nearly fell on his knees right there. 

heavens, he loved you so fucking much. and you made him realize it was about time he proved it to you (once again).

his hands easily found his phone in his pocket, and a quick call to the jewelry store was made while you busied yourself with paying for the flower. reo couldn’t stop smiling like a lovesick fool, but he didn’t mind.

“hey, mr. fuji, it’s mikage! you know, i think it’s time for that visit i mentioned a while ago…”

he might not fall to his knees right there, but he would drop at one knee very soon.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic idea: Old Friends

Bruce Wayne is no stranger to losing people. He has lost them to death or to madness within this city he is desperately trying to save. With each person, the void within him grows darker and darkeruntil he feels like he is still trapped back in that alley next to cold bodies and a broken heart.

That is why he tries his best to not overthink about them as they were in their final moments. He tries to remember his loved ones for who they were in the better days before tragedy struck.

Once in a while, even those memories he desperately tries to suppress because he can't handle the pain they bring. Bruce is aware it's not healthy.

He's seen plenty of men who are allowed their passions to become violent obsessions- he thinks of Harvey often- but being Batman was the one time he was actually making a difference instead of just allowing more and more tragedies to continue.

As Batman, he is at least putting up a fight.

Maybe that's why, on the night of his two old friends' deaths, Bruce sees them standing under a light post in Old Gotham as he is swinging by dressed as Batman. The very same one he would meet them at back as a teenager, scrambling to sneak out after Alfred would do his rounds.

He remembers his heart beating a mile a minute as he hurried out of his manor's caves, using the forgotten paths to meet the type of youth Alfred warned him against.

They would greet him with crooked smiles, sharp teasing voices, but soft, kind eyes. Despite how the older generations would wrinkle their noises at their appearance, they weren't bad people. Sometimes Bruce thought of them whenever people asked if Crime Alley was ever worth the effort to reform.

He knew they deserved someone to at least try.

Bruce, had meet them when he was ten and angry. They had both come from bad homes- at the time he hadn't realized just how bad- but they had been willing to help the privlage rich boy find his way home. They invited to linger when he neeed quite nights, listen to his woes and encourage his desire to be more.

The three were the same age, but sometimes Bruce would think he was the youngest one there. He grew up fast after his parent's murders, but not as fast as they had done.

They would rather spend their nights sleeping around the center of a small plaza in front of an old movie theater than going to either of their family houses, told him.

They were his best friends, a comfort that someone his age understood pain even if it wasn't the same one he had.

Maybe that is why he hadn't told them to stay when they told him that one had finally saved enough money for a motorbike, which the two were planning to use to run away. Bruce thought that they needed to get away until they were all adults and the system would no longer hold the power of them.

He had only given them a big hug, and well wishes.

Bruce never saw them again.

The light post hadn't been fixed in all those years, so the flickering light fell on the two figures casually leaning against it just as it did the very last night. They stood side by side, chatting lowly, lips cured around cigarettes.

Even the smoke floating around them is the same, and for a second, Bruce wonders if he is looking at a photograph. The same crooked smiles, taunting body language as if daring anyone to try to make them sad, and the same kind but so lonely eyes.

Even the blasted motocycle that stole them from him is propped up next to the pair just as it did the last night he saw them.

Bruce swings to a stop on the rooftop overlooking the two he had outlived. He remembers when he found out. Alfred had just turned on the TV to watch the daily news, and their pictures were flashing across the screen, the words Deadly motorcycle accident under their image.

Bruce had thrown up the meal Alfred had made him. No one else came to their funeral, fitting as it had been the girl's father that orginized their deaths.

All because his daughter would not follow her mother's footsteps and thus he would be out of a worker. Not that anyone belived him, even though Bruce had orginized thier funerals and been one of the four attendees.

Even though she had told them both with a shaking voice that her father wanted her to start wearing the clothes she was in to attract customers.

It was one of the first few cold cases he solved as Batman. He owed them that much.

"B?" Nightwing calls, noticing that his father had stopped following. He comes to stand next to him looking down to where Batman is staring. He sees nothing. "What is it?"

"Just some old friends," He mutters, turning away from Johnny and Kitty. He swears he can almost hear Johnny calling his name but Bruce can't bring himself to look back. If he does he'll fall into the void instead of staring. He aims his grabbling hook and swinings away.

Down below, the pair of ghosts watch the heroes go with wishful smiles.

"He's grown."

"He has." Johnny takes a long puff of his cigarette "I think the idiot can see us. He's had too many close calls if he can spot ghosts without the crazy levels of ectoplasm Amity Park has."

"He better not die. His kids need him." Kitty scoffs, but she leans on Johnny all the same, staring at the city they had tried so desperately to escape in life. They had passed by the street corner her father had controlled the working girls in, and she had burst into tears to see that Bruce had turned it into a women's shelter named after her. "This city needs him."

Johnny, for all his faults, and his flirtatious nature had allways been her rock. That's why when she had been sixteen and scared, she had gone to him to try to run away with.

He had gone with her to their deaths. Sometimes, she wonders if her boys ever blamed her for the end of their stories. She certainly did.

Johnny glances to the sky, spitting a swear. "Come babe, the glowing brat is back. We should try to split before he shoves us back to the Zone."

[runningthroughthegarden]

dumb young love

1.9k words, summary: when art leaves you in the dust for tashi, a part of you breaks. after an argument art realizes how desperately in love he is with you.

request from @fangirlinc :)

you had gone and done the one thing everyone had warned you not to do. you had fallen in love with your best friend. i mean how could you not? he was handsome, charming, talented, funny, everything you could want in a man and more. you both had such bright futures ahead of you and just loved being in each others company. which is why you never felt the need to profess your love to him. but lately you've been rethinking this choice. 

you obviously knew how close art and patrick were, i mean you guys all practically grew up with each other. this dynamic never really bothered you, why would it? that all changed once tashi came into the picture. 

you had been there, at the match where it all started. you had come to support them like you always had, but within those few days something had shifted and you had no idea why. suddenly the boys were ditching you to go to a party you didn't even know they cared about. 

they had come back to you the next day, raving about how amazing tashi was and the night they spent together. you noticed a glint in art’s eye that wasn't there before, and you tried your hardest to suppress the jealousy you were feeling. 

that day, when patrick won the match, you couldn't help but feel relieved that art would remain yours just for a little longer. what you didn't realize is that art didnt care if patrick was with tashi, because he was still head over heels for her.

 

“hey are we gonna have dinner tonight?” you ask, throwing another tennis ball over the net.

“yeah, just gotta get back to my room and shower” art replies, hitting back the ball with a distraught look on his face. 

“is it tashi?” you sigh.

“what? no-no. i'm just stressed about my next match” he replies, walking over to the bench. 

“you're art donaldson. you’re never stressed about a match. c'mon just tell me” you say as you walk over to him. 

“its just. patrick called and all he can fucking talk about is how amazing tashi is. and then i walk around campus and all i hear is how amazing tashi is. no matter what i do i can’t escape her.” he confesses, putting his head in his hands.

“i can’t imagine you ever wanting to escape her” you reply, letting out a forced laugh. 

“what?” 

“cmon art, from the day you lost that match it’s like your entire world changed or something. i mean all of a sudden your whole life revolves around this girl” you scoff. 

“y/n i really don’t need this shit from you, i’ll see you later” he scoffs, picking up his bag and leaving the court. 

“art!” you call out, only for him to leave you there alone.

standing there you think back to when everything was fine. how art would link his pinky with yours as you walked. the way he would call you everyday when he had to travel for matches. the nights you spent in his dorm trying to cram week's worth of studying into one night. the way he would so effortlessly plant kisses to your forehead. the moments you thought he might actually be in love with you. but now all you had were those memories. 

 

before you knew it, all art was doing was hanging out and helping tashi train. he had been your training partner first, so it hurt like hell to be left in the dust. you decided to try and let it go and focus on winning your matches. your most important match was coming up and you couldn't let your silly love life get in the way. the one person you had always dreamed of being coached by was going to be at your match. so you knew you had to train like crazy to get to work with them. 

a part of you was hoping maybe art would see how amazing your match would be, and finally start paying attention to you again. but you knew you were holding onto false hope. 

 

the day of your match had finally come, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared. this was such an important moment for your career and you couldn't shake those nerves. but you knew seeing art up in the stands would give you the boost of confidence you needed. 

the first set was about to start and you still didn’t see art in the stands. you felt your heart skip a beat at the thought that he might not show up. he would never do that to you. right? 

the first set had started and for a moment, the world around you started to fade. you may have hated tashi, but man was she right about tennis. you were performing flawlessly and you knew all the hard work was finally going to pay off. 

after winning your first set, you go back to your seat, taking a breather and still scanning the crowd for art. he was still nowhere to be found and you could feel your sadness turning into anger. deciding to use that as fuel, you prepare yourself for your next set. the rest of the game goes flawlessly and you know this is the best you have ever played. 

hitting the winning point, you stand in shock as cheers come from the stands. thanking your opponent you can’t seem to wipe the smile off your face. that is until you spot art in the stands. you could feel all the anger and resentment you suppressed fighting to be released. this had been your best game yet, and there art was, to ruin it.

packing up your bag, you felt a presence behind you. all spectators and coaches were long gone so you knew exactly who was behind you. turning around to face art, you push past him not wanting to hear a word he has to say. 

“y/n please i-” art calls out, quickly catching up with you.

“you what art?!” you yell, turning around to face him.

“you forgot? you had homework? you lost track of time? oh better yet, maybe you were with tashi?” you continue, looking up at him. you could feel hot tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

he stays silent and thats all the answer you need. 

“oh my god you were” you whisper, stepping back from him. 

“please just let me explain” art pleads, a look of desperation you’d never seen before. 

“today was the most important day to me. and i really thought that as my best friend you would at least care a little more. but i know where your priorities lay. and i'm done fighting for a spot i’ll never get” you say as tears quickly spill onto your cheeks. 

art’s hand reaches up to brush away your tears, but you step back. 

“stay the fuck away from me art” you choke out, quickly walking back to your room. 

 

the next few days were hell. spending each day crying in your bed, you had lost not only the love of your life but your best friend. you had gotten a call offering to be coached by someone you could only ever dream of working with. you should’ve felt happy, ecstatic even, but the last conversation you had with art was still ringing through your head. he had called you far too many times and texted you even more. but you had ignored every single one. the first day he came knocking on your door, but gave up after an hour of waiting. the apology flowers he had sent you sat on your desk. you had no idea what you were going to do. until, you got a text from patrick. 

patrick 

hi love, art told me about what happened im sorry. 

y/n

hi, you don’t have to apologize for him being stupid

patrick

do you want to hang out today? try to get your mind off of him

y/n 

actually i would love to

patrick 

meet me outside at 2

getting ready to see patrick was a highlight from these past few days. while you were enjoying your sulking you knew you had to get out at some point. going out to the courtyard, you see patrick sitting on a picnic blanket. your favorite foods and snacks were neatly laid next to him. you felt yourself genuinely smiling for the first time in a really long time. you spent the next hour eating your favorite meal and laughing at stupid shit with patrick. although your heart still hurt, you could feel your spirits rising. 

“thank you for this patrick, it’s all so lovely” you smile. 

“of course i’ll always be here for you” he gleams, pushing away the hair around your face and leaning in to kiss your forehead. 

“what the fuck?!” 

you would recognize that voice anywhere. 

“art what are you doing here?” patrick stands up to face him. 

“oh i dont know maybe i go to school here? what the fuck are you doing here patrick?!” he replies, getting closer to patrick. 

“seriously y/n? you run off to patrick?” he questions, obviously distraught but you can't seem to place why. 

“hey you don’t get to blame her for this” patrick replies. 

“oh fuck off patrick would you let her speak” 

grabbing arts hand, you quickly lead him away from the public spectacle this was all becoming. 

“what the hell is wrong with you art?” you yell, shutting your room door. 

“i mean, you completely forgot about me for some other girl and now you're mad at me? none of this makes sense, you broke my heart. you don't get to be angry.” you continue, feeling tears brim your eyes. 

he paces for a second, running his hands through the curls you missed so much. 

“im in love with you” he stops, looking down at you. 

it felt like you were dreaming, like you were imagining the words that just came out of his mouth. 

“i always have been. i've just been so stupid about it. when tashi came around i threw myself at her because i thought there was no way you would ever feel that way towards me. and i know i fucked up by doing that, i really really fucked up. but when i picture my life i see you, i've only ever seen you. and seeing you with patrick, i was scared i lost you. i'm sorry y/n, i really am. i would do anything to take it back.” he confesses. 

“you’re so stupid!” you yell, pushing his shoulders. 

“ive been in love with you for like, forever!” you look up at him, confused as to how he never realized. 

“really?” he asks, pure shock all over his face. 

“yes! i thought it was obvious” you frown. 

before you knew it he was holding your face in his hands, planting a kiss on your lips. in that moment everything felt right, like the stars had aligned. 

“y’know i'm still mad at you” you look up at him, placing your hands over his. 

“trust me, i will do everything to make it up to you. i'm just glad you're finally mine” he couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off his face as he kissed you again. 

[devilyn]

“I went on a date today.”

There was quiet shuffling on the other line.

“...why’re you telling me?”

You weren't too sure why. Maybe it was because the man that you went on a date with made you feel small, or maybe it was the way he only cared to get to know you on a vague surface level.

Or maybe it was because when you left the date, you couldn't help but remember the way Tsukishima Kei made you feel when he still loved you.

You decided to settle on, “I don't know.”

And your ex boyfriend practically laughed on the other side of the phone.

“You broke up with me,” his tone is harsh, like he’s purposely trying to hurt you. “You can't just call me whenever you want.”

“Then why did you pick up?”

More silence. The two of you sat in it. The only sound you could hear was the muffled noise of his TV in the background, left in the apartment the two of you used to share before you packed your things and left him.

Left the memories of the two of you behind in a place you used to call home because you couldn't take it anymore.

“You know why.”

He sounded more vulnerable now, the lightest inflection in his voice.

He never did want the breakup. You insisted on it. You thought he would've blocked your number, but seems like the two of you were still on the same page despite all that happened between you.

“Do you love me?” you asked him, a hint of desperation in your question.

“You can't ask me that now.”

“But I love you.”

You blurted it out before you could regret it. Your voice shook, free hand coming up to your face to scrub at it to try and hide the tears dripping down your cheeks.

“I still love you. But I needed to leave you,” you started to ramble, not waiting for his response. “These past six months I thought I was finally doing fine without you. I could smile again, I found myself again, Kei. I learned what type of person I could be without you--”

“So what changed?” He snapped. “Why did you call me in the middle of the night? To brag that you're doing so much better than me?”

The hurt in his voice was palpable, and your heart throbbed in your chest.

“No,” you whispered, “Because I remembered that we used to be happy.”

You heard him inhale sharply as you wiped your tears.

You used to be happy. Tsukishima Kei used to make you happy.

“...I ruined it, though.”

You could picture him on the other side of the line. He was pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, trying to suppress whatever emotions were coming up. Because Tsukishima hated emotions, and hated dealing with them.

“You did,” you agreed with him with a watery smile, “We both did.”

“I'm sorry.”

If he had said that seven months ago, you would've celebrated. An apology from Tsukishima is like an award.

But as much as you wanted to, as much as the thought of being with someone other than him terrified you, you weren't ready to let him back in.

Your silence was too much for him, so he shakily whispered, “I miss you."

You put him out of his misery with a quiet, “I know.”

You remembered his laughter when he'd tease you and you'd pout. You remembered how his eyes sparkled when looking at you. How his kisses felt like bright sunshine on a winter afternoon.

“What can I do?” He practically pleaded, at the end of his rope.

You remembered screaming, crying, pictures ripped up and broken photo frames. You remembered the anger in his eyes, blazing and unrecognizable. How each of his words and insults tightened the vice around your glass heart, until it shattered to pieces at your feet.

So you did the only thing you knew how to do, and you broke his heart too.

And just as you thought you were ready to move on from him, memories of him came crashing back like a tidal wave.

“I don't know, Kei,” your free hand covered your eyes, swollen from tears. The aching of your heart was almost too much to bear.

“Let me make it up to you,” he spoke quickly, feeling you slipping away from him again. “Delete his number. Let me back in. I'll be better.”

His offer was tempting. In an ideal world, Tsukishima wouldn't break your heart again.

Was it okay to hope for ideals? Was it foolish of you to take him back, and give into the hope that things would be different this time?

“Please, baby.”

He was genuinely pleading now, and you muffled a sob behind your palm. Your prideful ex boyfriend who never apologized and never begged you for anything was begging for the right to care for your broken heart.

“...okay.”

So you gave into him, and handed him the pieces of your heart to put back together again.

[bucketofchum]

Oh my god teenTumu has so much fucking repressed trauma that he doesn't even know about

[redskull199987]

Plzz write fnaf Michael x femreader! It starts like a fluff and then smut👀

Lucky

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader Request Word Count:2.4k Warnings:Angst to Fluff to Smut, this got way angstier than i thought SOWWWY- but I promise, fluff ensues, Smut ensues, so MDNI/18+, Movie Spoilers Summary:After you finally return from work, a few surprises await you at home…

Masterlist

Your day had been slow. Agonizingly slow. Time seemed to go by extra slow today and by the time you finally left your office, it had felt like you had spent a week there, instead of a day. But as you slowly made your way towards your car, your mood lightened, as you remembered what would await you at home.

Your loving Boyfriend and his even sweeter little sister. 

The little family you had built over the years always managed to put a smile on your face and especially after the whole drama at that Pizza Plex, you were even more grateful for what you had.

You slightly shook your head, trying to avoid thinking of those memories. The things you had seen, while Mike and You tried to save his sister from the dead children. You hoped that they got what they wanted…and that the Monster who created them had gotten what he deserved.

Your mind was about to wander back to the memory of the springlocks violently stabbing into his chest, as a knock on your car window quite literally pulled you out of your thoughts.

A quiet gasp left your lips, as you looked outside to see who had knocked. Much to your relief, it was only your coworker, who wanted to wish you a good night. You quickly uttered your goodbyes, before finally starting the car and making your way back home.

By the time you arrived, the sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon. You quickly parked your car next to Mike´s before moving towards the entrance. 

You didn't bother turning on the lights in the hallway, as you dropped your bag to the floor and kicked off your shoes.

Before you could call out for Mike and Abby, you heard someone running towards you and as you realized what was happening, you quickly duck away, stumbling backwards.

Just in time to avoid being hit by the bat that was swung into your direction.

“Mike!! It's me!! It's just me!!”, You quickly yelled and reached for the lightswitch.

As the hallway was suddenly illuminated by the dim gleam of the ceiling light, you could make out the figure of Mike in front of you. He was breathing heavily. With the bat still in his hand, he was towering over you. He just looked at you for one more second, before finally realizing what was happening. He quickly dropped the bat, a hand flying to his face, covering his mouth in disbelief of what he had just done.

“I´m sorry…”, he mumbled, dropping to his knees,”I'm so sorry. I thought…I thought it was..that it was o-one of t-them..”

Your heart broke at the sight in front of you. You quickly pulled Mike into your arms:”It's okay, Mike. I´m alright. They're gone now. They're gone.”

You gently kissed his temple, as you saw that he tried to suppress his tears. You knew that he was having a hard time dealing with the gruesome events. It had left scars on him. Both physically and mentally.

“I´m sorry..”, he muttered once more, pulling you closer to him. You only kissed his forehead again and mumbled sweet nothings into his ear until he had calmed down again.

You gently cupped your boyfriend´s face and gave him a soft smile. To your delight, he returned the smile and leaned forward to quickly peck your lips.

The sweet moment was interrupted as the voice of Abby grabbed your attention. The young girl came running into the hallway, calling out both of your names. Your smile got even bigger as she quickly came over to you, giving you a short hug, before starting to ramble about what she had drawn today and that she wanted to show you all her artworks. You happily nodded at everything that she said. 

“Alright Abbs.”, Mike suddenly said, interrupting his sister and affectionately patting her head,”You can show her tomorrow. It's time for bed now.”

The little girl pouted for a moment and turned back to you:”But I wanna stay up and play with you.”

You gave her a mischievous smile:”I tell you something. If you promise me to go to bed now, I will play and draw with you tomorrow the entire day. And I'll make your favorite Dinner, hm?”

Abby´s face lit up in anticipation. She quickly nodded and said good Night to you and Mike, before disappearing into her room.

Mike only looked at you with admiration,”How do you alway do that?”, he asked, as the two of you also made your way to your shared bedroom.

“It´s a secret”, You grinned and let yourself fall down on the bed. A satisfied groan left your lips, as you finally felt the stress from work dissolve into nothing but hot air.

You watched how Mike pulled his Hoodie over his head and throwing it to the side. Now only left in his T-Shirt, he flopped down beside you, propping his head up on his arm and looking down at you. He didn't say anything for a few seconds, just looking you up and down, before he slowly lifted his hand and gently grasped your cheek. You gasped quietly, as he suddenly leaned forward and connected your lips in a sweet and tender kiss. It only lasted for a few seconds before he pulled back again. You looked up at him and saw that his eyes were closed, as he leaned his forehead against yours.

Finally, Mike opened his mouth to say something, but after a few seconds of silence, he closed it again and he opened his eyes. You looked at his dark orbs and almost lost yourself in all the emotions, he was trying to convey only with his gaze.

“It's okay.”, you affirmed, “I know. You don't have to say anything, Mike.”

The boy only smiled at you and it was a genuine smile. One, that you rarely got to see.

Without another word, Mike suddenly sat up, pulling you with him and into his lap. You gasped loudly at the sudden change of position, which gave Mike the chance to put his mouth back onto yours.

This kiss was different. It was passionate, hungry even. He groaned lowly as he pulled your body tighter against his. Your hands pressing up against his chest, while he explored your Body with his.

“Mike..”, you warned him, as he started to kiss your jaw, your skin burning like fire everytime his lips touched you.

“Your sister…”, You mumbled again, but you and him both knew that it was already too late, that you were already at his mercy, the gaze of yours just as hungry as his.

“We'll be quiet.”, he finally answered, as he pushed you off his lap and onto the mattress. You watched how he now also pulled his Shirt over his head, before leaning down to kiss you again. You moaned against his lips, as you felt his cold hands wander under your sweater. He squeezed your hips tenderly, while making it his mission to let you drown in his kisses. As he finally parted to help you out of your clothes, you immediately missed the feeling of his lips pressing against yours.

Quickly you pulled your sweater over your head, discarding it on the floor. Mike only admired you for a few seconds, his gaze wandering all over your Body and you felt heat rising to your cheeks.

“Don't look at me like that.”, you mumbled and gently put your hand over his eyes.

Mike only chuckled at your antics,”Like what?”, he asked, acting all innocent and letting your hand remain on top of his eyes.

After a few seconds of Silence, you slowly pulled your hand back and his eyes went back to look at you.

“Like that.”, You croaked, looking away from him.

“But why?”, Mike teased, pulling you closer to his body by your hips,”I love what I am seeing.”

Upon hearing his words, you looked back up at him. his eyes held no ounce of doubt. He was a hundred percent sure.

“I love you too, Mike”, You smiled and quickly pecked his lips. Mike only returned the smile,”May I?”, he asked, mentioning towards your bra.

You quickly nodded and mere seconds later, your bra joined the heap of clothing that was already on the floor.

Mike´s lips quickly latched onto your breast, as his hand gave the same attention to the other. With a moan, your head lolled back in pleasure.

“You like that, hm?”, Mike mumbled, as he pushed you back down on the bed. You weren't able to form a coherent sentence anymore, so you just nodded.

“Please, let me have you.”, he urged, his hands wandering to the hem of your pants,”Let me make you feel good.”

“Mike please..”, You finally pressed out,”I need you..Need you inside of me.”

That was all the confirmation he needed, before finally pulling your pants down, alongside your panties.

He slowly pushed your thighs apart and started to kiss up the inside of your calves, but never quite touching you where you desperately needed him.

“Mike please.”, You whined again, while trying to keep your voice down. But your eyes widened in surprise and you tried to suppress the loud moan that made it´s way up your throat, as Mike suddenly pushed two fingers inside you without a warning. His tongue joined mere seconds after, as he ate you out like a man starved.

Your hand wandered to Mike´s hair and you gently pulled and pushed at his head as he was working you closer to your release. You could already feel that coil form inside you and after only a few more seconds, it snapped and with a suppressed moan, you came against his mouth.

As your heavy breathing started to slow down again, Mike finally looked back up at you, the desire in his eyes bigger than ever. He quickly latched his lips on yours again and you could taste yourself on him as he kissed you hungrily.

Your hands now wandered towards his sweats and as you grabbed his already hard member through his pants. He groaned lowly, closing his eyes in pleasure.

Quickly, you pulled down his pants, leaving him now also bare in front of you. Without a second thought, you grabbed his length and gave him a few experimental pumps. That seemed to do the trick on him and you watched how Mike´s brows furrowed, as he melted against your touch.

“Wanna be inside you..”,he mumbled against the skin of your shoulder. With anticipation, you lined him up with your entrance and looked back up at him. Mike was looking at you questioningly. And as soon as you gave him a small nod, he finally pushed inside of you.

You grabbed onto his biceps, as the pain slowly dissolved into pleasure. Mike slowly started moving in and out of you, grabbing your hips tightly. You suppressed a moan by sinking your teeth into his shoulder. Not to pierce the skin, but hard enough to leave a mark.

You could hear Mike mumbling incoherent words into your ear, as he picked up his pace, desperately trying to push you over the edge again.

“Mike..”, You moaned, feeling yourself coming closer and closer to the sweet sweet relief and as you looked back into his eyes and saw the adoration that he had for you, you were done for it. You clenched around him and came all over his cock. Mike followed soon after, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm.His thrusts got slower and sloppier and he finally pulled out of you, his breath still heavy against your skin. He quickly kissed your temple, before getting up. After a minute, he returned with a damp cloth and a water bottle. With a smile still on his face, he gently cleaned you both up, before slipping back into bed with you.

You chuckled, as he nuzzled his head into your neck, his stubble tickling your skin. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled his body closer to yours. His warmth engulfing you fully.

“Good Night, Mike.”, you smiled and gently kissed his cheek.

“Night.”, he replied with a yawn.

It didn't go unnoticed by you, that he didn't use his pills to fall asleep today. Or the recording of nature sounds. He didn't even look up at the Poster of Nebraska, that was now hanging over his bed again.

Looking at your beloved one last time, you smiled once more before finally closing your eyes and letting sweet sleep engulf you.

Bonus:

“Mike!?”

“Miiiike!?”

“Miiiiiike!?!?”

Your eyes snapped open and within a second, you were sitting up on the bed. Your gaze wandered to the door, where loud knocks and shouts were being heard. After a few seconds of trying to understand in which century you had woken up in, you realized where you were and the events of last night returned to you.

“Mike?”, You mumbled quietly and tapped your boyfriend's shoulder, who was laying next to you,”Mike??”

With a groan, he finally looked up at you and before you had the chance to say something, he tumbled off the bed due to leaving too much over the edge.

You couldn't suppress the chuckle that left your lips as you leaned down to check on Mike.

“Morning.”, You smiled, as you realized that he was fine. You quickly leaned down to peck his lips, which immediately seemed to wake him up more.

“Miiiiike!?!”

Your sweet moment was interrupted, as you heard Abby banging against the door again.

Mike let out an annoyed groan before getting up and putting his pants back on.

“In a minute, Abbs!”, he yelled back and the banging on the door finally stopped.

“We have a lot to do today.”, you said as you finally got up too and started to get dressed.

Mike only looked at you in confusion:”What do you mean?”

“Remember how I made Abby go to sleep yesterday?”, you chuckled and softly kissed his cheek before walking to the door. Pushing the handle down, you were immediately greeted by the sight of Abby who grabbed your hand and pulled you towards her room to show you her drawings.

Mike could only look after you with a tender smile on his face. How had he gotten so lucky?

[hotchner-edu]

Down We Go | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: Aaron takes you shopping and you both find yourselves in a predicament when you run into his team and they recognize you as Jack's friend. — part 3 of (one and two)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Younger (Of Age) F!Reader

Warnings: Age gap (r is over 22, Aaron is in his late 40's), fluff, best friend's father trope

"Not to alarm you or anything, honey, but you do realize how this looks to others, right?" You ask, voice tinged with unbridled amusement as you suppress a laugh.

Aaron blinks at you blankly, trying to figure out what you were talking about as the clerk shuffles away to bag up the necklace he was buying for you.

"Aaron, you look like my sugar daddy right now." You explain with a snicker, pinching his side as his eyes widen a bit.

"There's no way people are actually thinking that, right?" He asks almost incredulously as he glances around and curls his arm around your waist.

You shrug and lean into his side, "We're in the right age range for that to be an appropriate assumption." You joke quietly, not bothered by the lingering stares you could feel from other mall patrons.

"When did a man buying his girlfriend jewelry become a crime." He grumbles in false exasperation, thanking the clerk when she comes back and passes the gift bag over the glass display case.

You smile as he carries it for you, taking his hand as he leads you out of the store. "You tell me. You're the one that works with social taboos for a living, Mr. Unit Chief."

"You're going to be the death of me." He murmurs under his breath, a small smile accompanying his complaint.

"You love me." You grin cheekily and bump your hip against his as you both walk. "Now, let's go buy some more ties for you."

"What about that pretzel you wanted earlier?" His asks, already relenting to your sudden suggestion. He lets you drag him toward a multi-story department store at the end of the mall, the glossy floors and milling patrons drawing you both in.

"Forget about the pretzel, honey." You rush out, glancing back at him to see the familiar defeated smile on his face that you've grown accustomed to.

He gives a big sigh and tugs your hand back gently so he's walking closer to you again, pressing you against his side. "Don't think I'm not aware that you just want an excuse to see me wearing more ties."

"Aaron, if you were me, you'd understand this obsession that I harbor." You jokingly lament, looking down at your phone and scrolling past the very appropriately-timed flash of your lockscreen, a selfie (that you begged him to take) of him in his suit while he was on his lunch break.

Just as you both cross into the threshold of the department store, you hear a surprised call of Aaron's name. "Hotch?"

Both you and Aaron spin on your heels to see a small group of people staring at you both. Sifting through your memories, you quickly deduce that it was his BAU team, recognizing them from the various photos he's shown you.

"JJ... Hi." He says politely, nodding to the rest of his teammates who were now gawking at you. "Having a good weekend so far?"

The woman— JJ, nods and smiles faintly, eyes flitting to observe you for a millisecond. "Yes, we all decided to just walk around after grabbing brunch."

"So... gonna introduce us?" A man you recognized as Derek speaks up, sharing a look around the group.

Aaron pauses for a second before squeezing your waist reassuringly and clearing his throat. "Right... guys, this is Y/N. Honey, this is my team." He keeps the introduction short, clearly knowing they'd likely interrogate you anyway.

"It's nice to meet you, Y/N. Y/N..." Derek mutters your name softly after greeting you, trying to get a feel for its familiarity. "Huh, you have the same name as Jack's friend." He says, pausing as the last syllable leaves his lips.

You see JJ and Emily cringe a bit at his cluelessness, clearly having realized who you were a bit before him. "Ah, yes, that's me." You answer sheepishly, smiling and meeting his gaze evenly.

Penelope, who you recognize from her colorful jewelry and joyful disposition, is quick to recover from her shock as she gasps and looks at you. “Oh my gosh, I love your shoes!”

“Oh, thank you!” You’re quick to accept the sudden shift in atmosphere. “I bought them a couple of weeks ago.”

“You’ll have to come shopping with us!” Penelope excitedly says, looking as though she was already planning out the entire trip in her head.

Emily nods warmly,. “Oh please do, I’m dying for a new dress. Even if we barely have the time to go out these days.” She jokes and rolls her eyes playfully.

“I would love to. Though I think Aaron will be the first to tell you that the last thing I need to do is more shopping.” You jest back, feeling Aaron’s hand rubbing your back slowly.

“Whatever makes you happy.” Aaron speaks up to defend himself, amusement decorating his tone as he tries to hide his little smile.

“So it’s settled then.” JJ chuckles, motioning for the group to start walking as to not create foot traffic.

Penelope flashes you a bright grin, starting to walk. "No wonder you declined for brunch, sir. But worry not, all is forgiven!"

You direct your attention back to Aaron and you frown a bit, feeling guilty for causing him to miss a team bonding day. "I thought you said you had no plans today, honey."

Aaron shakes his head gently and swiftly wraps his arm around your waist again. "I wanted to spend the day with you."

You eye him a bit with faux uncertainty before catching Derek's gaze.

“So… I have to ask. How did this happen?” Derek says, motioning between the both of you as he walks beside Aaron.

Aaron looks to you and lets you explain, knowing you always got a good kick out of telling the story. “Jack accidentally set us up together on a blind date.”

Derek’s eyebrows raise up and he huffs out a light chuckle, shaking his head. Spencer speaks up for the first time, eyebrows furrowed as he turns back a bit while he walks. “Accidentally?”

“Yeah, he had an elaborate plan to set me and Aaron up on different dates at different places, but he accidentally sent me the wrong address. And much to his absolute chagrin, we hit it off.” You elaborate with a lighthearted tone.

“He set you both up on dates on the same day?” Spencer clarifies, looking a bit befuddled.

“Between you and me, I think he just wanted some peace and quiet.” You joke, smiling when the group lets out small laughs.

Derek crosses his arms and glances at Aaron, eyes glinting in playfulness. “So this is why you’ve been all giddy these past few weeks?”

You snort, the mental image of your no-nonsense boyfriend suddenly being go-lucky at the office popping into your head. “Giddy?” You ask and raise an eyebrow at Aaron.

“I have not been giddy.” He deadpans, seemingly trying to inch away from the group with every passing second.

“Oh, no, you’ve been pretty cheerful, sir.” Penelope chimes in from in front of you.

“Yeah, I mean he’s even going back home at reasonable hours.” Emily says to you playfully.

“Never thought I’d see the day where you’d leave the office with work still on your desk.” Derek adds.

You chuckle and squeeze his hand. “Really now? He’s still putting on the workaholic facade around me. He told me that he's just been getting less paperwork lately. Good to know you’re whipped, honey.”

Aaron rolls his eyes fondly and just sighs in defeat. You have been trying to instill a sense of self-concern in Aaron, texting him almost every night to make sure he got home before midnight.

You end up walking around with his team for almost an hour, swapping stories about Aaron and getting to know them. By the time you all decide to part ways, you've gotten the girls' numbers and been put into a groupchat with them.

"I'd say that went well." You muse happily and walk with Aaron to his car. "I was nervous they wouldn't be super receptive of the relationship. I was certain Derek would throw in a few quips about you being a cradle robber."

"Oh don't worry, Dave's already got that base covered." Aaron sighs to veil his fondness.

"A little office banter can't hurt." You tease, knowing about his bond with the older agent. "And I can't believe you really almost fought that death-row convict! With your bare hands, too!" You say suddenly, recalling Spencer's little anecdote.

He exhales through his nose as he can feel the carefully crafted line between his work life and his personal life blurring. "He was intending to kill me and Reid."

"Well, I'm happy that you're always ready to defend yourself." You reassure him, grinning when he gazes at you softly. "I feel like I learned so much about you today."

"I don't want to indulge too much into my work." He says quietly, leaving no room for question. "It's not something you have to hear."

"But it's a huge part of your life. I don't need all the grisly details, of course. I just want you to be able to talk to me when you've had a hard case... when you're not feeling great about something that happened on the field." You supply with a gentle tone.

Aaron stays quiet for a moment and you take the chance to continue. "You don't have to hold your burdens in, Aaron. You've always stayed strong for everyone around you, so lean on me."

When you both get to his car, he gently guides you to face him, trapping you between the passenger door and his body. He leans to kiss your forehead as an adoring look ripples across his expression. "Thank you, sweetheart." He whispers against your skin and brushes his thumb across your cheek.

"Just doing what I can." You speak quietly, rubbing his sides a bit.

"Will you stay tonight? At my house." He requests with a tender look in his eyes. Even if you wanted to decline, the vulnerable expression painted across his face is enough to have your heart swelling with affection.

You nod and pull him in for a chaste kiss. "Of course."

When you and Aaron make it back to the Hotchner residence, you're immediately greeted by Jack's narrowed eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"I just missed you too much." You say with sarcastic longing, opening your arms for him.

His face twists in playful disgust and he tosses a pillow at you. "Ew, what the hell."

"Kidding. I'm staying the night." You explain with a light chuckle as you duck away from the pillow.

The soft object hits Aaron's chest and he shakes his head, dropping a kiss to your temple and placing the pillow back on the couch before walking up the stairs. "I'll be in the shower, honey."

"What's that?" Jack asks, stuffing some popcorn into his mouth as he pauses the show playing on the tv.

You hold up the small bag in your hand and walk toward him. "This?"

"Yeah, what'd you get?"

You pull out the tissue paper and hand him the small jewelry box. "Aaron bought me a necklace."

"Please don't tell me you're his sugar baby now. That's my inheritance you're messing with, you know." Jack huffs, looking at the necklace with interest.

You joke and take the box back. "Oh don't worry, you're already off the will."

part 4 here

[anantaru]

EX BOYFRIEND LYNEY

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — ex! boyfriend lyney headcanons

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, a lil possessive lyney, friends with benefits, rough, experienced lyney

ex boyfriend lyney moves in a way that you cannot possibly get an eyeful of, no hint of what he's planning, no inkling of why he did it— his precise yet persistent methods to win you over again aren't for one to notice, in fact, he doesn't lose his frame of mind during the entire process of your break-up, his aura and certain outbursts are ultimately swallowed down by him so you cannot see them.

the man was keeping his emotions in check in an almost frightening fashion that in recollection, it scares you. one might even go as far and assume that it was for the sake of you, or himself, to suppress his negative feelings in order to make the environment easier for the both of you.

ex boyfriend lyney remains silent for a good while after your break-up, he doesn't reach out to you often but it's because he believes you will take time to get used to being without him again. on the contrary, it gave him the perfect gateway of carefully planning each step out— not unexpectedly, of course, it's important to note that he wouldn't force you to stay with him because he deeply cares about your happiness.

you really want to break up? well, if that's what your heart desires, lyney wouldn't want to stand in your way— instead, he'd make it his most important task to remain friends with you, in order to win you over once more. what most people told you is that “once a book is finished, you cannot reread and take parts out of it, just because you didn't like it or want to change the narrative” it's over, ancient history, printed out on paper.

almost comical, ex boyfriend lyney thinks— after all, he was a magician and utterly skilled in his craft. he could pull it off, right?

before you know it, he will demonstrate the love he harbors for you in a blink of an eye, that passion that was too dark for dim eyes to discover currently— yet one day, he promises you, that he'll draw a veil over all deeds passed and walk you through a new beginning.

ex boyfriend lyney cannot imagine a life without you, it is out of the question because he sees you as family, a part of him, he wants and needs to protect you even after your break up. such strong amibition of shielding his significant other (or now ex), specifically wanting to protect them might stem from him being a big brother and always looking after his siblings.

in the act of love, no other individual could make him feel like you did— it's as if magic pulled at his heartstrings when he sees you, or when you smile at you.

his chest pumps with affection when you're here. he's so eager to show you again, wanting to reproduce memories of the past, back when love was him and you.

ex boyfriend lyney supports you, always, and he does it flawlessly when he fuels your needs, his smoldering gaze always here to help and burning into your body, sending shivers down your spine. there was a problem you faced? do not be scared, because ironically enough, lyney always seems to be there for you, at the right time, the right place and with the right words hand in hand to say.

ex boyfriend lyney will always be there when you need him, and in conjuction, he'll be the answer to all of your hardships, as if he somehow knew why they were happening in the first place. you can count on him always, no? with one voice and the beat of his heart, he's there to look after you while inching closer, giving your cheek a good squeeze before calling your stressed-out expression cute.

ex boyfriend lyney can immediately notice how different you were a couple weeks well into the break-up, but he also likes how you're still getting shy when his attention is solely fixated on you again, like your previous defenses have never drawn life in the first place— it's a pain, a taxing one at that when you realize that you still like him, despite the fact that you promised yourself to detach from any further interactions you and lyney could have in the future, yet proceeding to go against your better judgement.

but after a while, ex boyfriend lyney and you couldn't resist the temptations anymore as you're first agreeing to be friends with benefits for a while— only until one of you finds a serious match again, or another person that was able to outshine any of you, when in reality none of you had even considered dating again.

needless to say, it felt good, like every small movement of him was ten times stronger when he presses himself into you, when he rubs warmly over the throbbing spots only he knew were to find, "you're always so pretty.." he drawls out as your stomach flips at his drunken thoughts becoming real words, angelic tones you could hear.

ex boyfriend lyney makes you take every long breath a lot more meaningful, you felt as if you were breathing in the fumes of a volcano as it captured you in a smoldering haze— taking into account how the bedroom was slowly developing into something humid, heavy, and hot.

ex boyfriend lyney lets you succumb to it fully, and there was so much pressure on your cunt that your back was arching up into his body, your figure held by two hands slipped underneath, the almost agony-like sensation of fullness bristling on your sex as lyney moves and explores further into the realm of your beautiful body.

ex boyfriend lyney knows all of your kinks, or the certain spots you liked being stimulated, the very places you only hoped he'd do whenever he's got you split in half. you definitely notice his self assurance too, it's a bit stronger than last time— how he cannot possibly hold back a ravishing smirk when you're this easy to please.

there's no confusion in his face either, nor was he unfocused, only a dark lust was painted behind his eyes.

ex boyfriend lyney pulls one hand from your hip to your cheek before slanting your head down in order for you to witness the mess he's made in between your thighs.

your hips were pressing up off of the mattress in order to taste more of him, the lustful hankering mounting in your veins as your mouth turns dry as desert bones when your moans increase in length. a just released greed develops from your desperate yearning, it expands in your stomach and multiplies the more lyney pleasured you, the faster he flicks his length over your walls and smears his pre in waves on your wet sex.

"lyney..." you drawl out in an angelic tone that immediately made his heart flutter, "I n-need more," you say, smirking, your hand slowly wafting to your breasts before you're squeezing one of them, twinging at your nipple next. this was on purpose— because you knew how much he liked it whenever you put on a show for him.

so you continue, without a hurry, going with the flow and moving gently between the valley of your breasts until sliding past your lower stomach that was currently feeling full to the brim. yet your hand doesn't stop yet, only halting right above your clit when decent on it.

"I can't... you're so, fuck," his voice cracks, a moan sliding up through his throat. he's done for, you got him now.

ex boyfriend lyney shakes from the warm greeting of your walls sucking him tight, salivating at the sight of your poor pussy squelching clamorously. the magician missed you so much that he didn't want to conceal the burly emotions of his mind from you anymore— in truth, lyney was pathetic, truly without shame.

he shamelessly whimpers into your mouth before lapping at your bottom lip, biting it, sucking and toying with your tongue. he's whining, on the verge of crying due to pleasure, his eyes closed and hips rutting into your heat as the tips of his ears slowly turn pink.

ex boyfriend lyney moans out your name when you lock your legs around his hips, the rough squeezes of your pussy tightening as your body began to ready itself, the pleasure of your climax coming through you in a formidable wave of bliss as the both of you came at the same time, feeling like all the relief in the world settled in your stomach as your arousal glazes all over his shaft.

ex boyfriend lyney lets out a deep, muffled groan as you shake underneath his body. he collapses shortly after on top of you— yet it's all too much for you to keep up with. possible regrets? well, probably, but you're way too dizzy and fucked out of your mind to even force yourself to think about it.

what's there to know for you was that ex boyfriend lyney still loves you more than anything— and if being in this kind of "special relationship" was the best possible outcome for now, so be it.

on the grounds that sooner or later, he will get you back again.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[pin-k-ink]

MASKED INTENTIONS ⋆✦⋆ bokuto koutaro

synopsis ➸ bokuto’s halloween party is your chance to finally make a move. you’ve both danced around your feelings for too long, and tonight, you’re determined to make it official—no matter what

tags ➸ friends to lovers, mutual pining, sexual tension, some kuroo x reader, bathroom sex, possessive!bokuto, biting, marking, nipple play, fingering, cunnilingus, squirting, begging, praise kink, dirty talk, unprotected sex, belly bulge, size kink

wc ➸ 8.4k

"Didn't you hear me the first time, [Y/N]-chan? I said I'm throwing a huge Halloween bash this weekend!"

Bokuto's boisterous voice cut through the dull roar of the bustling student center effortlessly. You startled slightly at his enthusiastic declaration, gaze snapping up from where it had been shamelessly roaming over the firm stretch of his pecs straining against his fitted tee.

Feeling your cheeks warm at being caught so brazenly ogling, you quickly averted your eyes and cleared your throat in a vain attempt at recovering some composure.

"Sorry Kou, I was just...uh, admiring your shirt," you fibbed weakly, resisting the urge to squirm beneath his bright amber stare. "But yeah, a Halloween party does sound pretty fun! Count me in for sure."

Bokuto beamed at your agreement, seemingly oblivious to your bashful once-over despite the faint blush dusting his cheeks. That radiant smile of his always did silly, fluttery things to your pulse without fail.

"Of course you're gonna be there!" he laughed richly, slinging one arm carelessly across the back of the sofa behind you both.

You held your breath as the motion made his sleeves ride up further, tendons flexing in that way that never failed to distract you into yearning. Bokuto leaned in conspiratorially, utterly heedless of how his solid frame dwarfed your space so deliciously.

"You're basically the deciding factor on whether this thing goes as crazy as I'm hoping, [Y/N]," he confided in a hushed rumble that had you mentally replaying the words several times into something far more suggestive.

Unconsciously, your stare traced the sharp line of his chiseled jaw, committing every shadowed dip and hollow to fresh memory. How you yearned to brush your fingertips along that enticing path, committed the sensation of Bokuto's stubble to sear into your nerve endings for the thousandth time...

"I mean, you're hands down the most fun AND the prettiest person I know!" Bokuto continued in that same oblivious candor. "No way I'm throwing this thing without my trusty sidekick by my side to keep me honest!"

You barely suppressed a shiver at the casual endearment coupled with Bokuto's undivided attention focused so intimately upon you. A tiny, smitten part of you indulged the wild fantasy of him actually intending that velvet rumble as a subtle overture towards something more than friendship...

"You're such a smooth talker, Kou," you managed after clearing your throat roughly.

Reaching out, you laid one hand over his bicep in a featherlight caress that made his tawny eyes go wide momentarily. Bokuto seemed to hesitate for a fraction of a second under the unexpected contact, lashes fluttering adorably. But almost immediately, that huge sunny grin stretched back across his features as if nothing remotely charged had occurred.

"Laying it on thick already to make sure I get the best party partner in crime on my side!" he joked brightly, flexing that tantalizing muscle beneath your palm in a way you were certain he didn't fully comprehend the effect of.

With herculean effort, you dragged your stare up to meet his before your imagination could wander down far more lascivious avenues than mere bicep appreciation again.

"You don't play fair, Bokuto Koutarou," you rasped out, unable to resist a low note of playful accusation despite knowing his flirtations remained entirely unintentional.

But oh, how you wished the heated looks and delicious innuendos he tossed around with such careless charm could ring with deeper meaning behind them - aimed solely at reeling you into the same helpless thrall he'd held you captive within for months.

"Aww hush, you know you love it!" Bokuto laughed again, utterly guileless and irresistibly handsome in that moment.

All you could do was surrender fully to melting into a puddle of longing all over again, unable to deny his searing assessment even to yourself. After all, who else could inspire such debilitating desire in you but your gloriously oblivious best friend?

Pursing your lips in a vain effort at composure, you simply leveled Bokuto with your most sultry stare while his rambling rundown of planned Halloween frivolities continued to wash over your hopelessly smitten senses. No small act of stubborn bravery when his broad palms were suddenly gesturing with such vigor right before your yearning eyes...

"—and I was thinking of going all out with the vampire look this year!" Bokuto exclaimed, eyes sparkling with mischievous excitement. "Picture this - slick cape, ruffled shirt open to show off my eight-pack, maybe even a pair of those fake fangs if I can find some decent ones!"

You bit back a whimper that threatened to slip free, hormones blazing at the enticing mental image he was so carelessly painting. Bokuto, looking devastatingly handsome while deliberately putting his sculpted physique on display in one of those low-cut vampire getups? Yeah, that was a surefire recipe for spontaneous combustion where your overactive imagination was concerned.

"You'd look good enough to eat all dressed up like that," you couldn't resist murmuring in a tone several shades too sultry for mere casual conversation.

Bokuto simply cocked his head owlishly at your heated rejoinder, apparently oblivious to the blatant innuendo dripping from your words. That only made the rakish grin he flashed you in response hit straight to your rapidly fraying restraint like a sucker punch.

"Hah! You know it!" he crowed richly, flexing one bicep with a playful wink. "Can't wait to knock all the thirsty ladies dead when they get an eyeful—"

You had to physically cross your legs in a vain bid at composure when his words somehow grew even more salaciously charged without apparent intent. Mercifully, Bokuto seemed to pause mid-ramble, sharp eyes narrowing slightly as if sensing the fresh current of tension thrumming between your bodies.

"Wait, hold up!" He leaned in infinitesimally closer, rendering his clean, crisp cologne impossible to ignore. "What costume have you got planned to match my vampire vibe, huh [Y/N]-chan?"

Your breath stalled entirely as Bokuto's penetrating golden stare flicked from your face down to your mouth and back again with unabashed curiosity. Unconsciously, you found yourself mirroring the motion of dragging your gaze over the lush seam of his parted lips before catching yourself just in time.

"Now now, Kou," you husked out in your lowest register, unable to resist the flirtatious opening he'd created. "You really think I'm gonna spoil the whole surprise before the main event? Where's the fun in that?"

Bokuto immediately pulled back with a dramatic gasp of mock indignation, somehow filling the scant space between your bodies with that irresistible presence despite the harmless distance. You suppressed a tiny smirk at how easy it was to rile up his naturally excitable nature - especially when it came to any perceived challenge or hint of competition.

"No way, [Y/N]! That's so not fair!" he protested with a rumbling pout, folding his arms across that firm chest you'd been so keen to ogle. "As the guest of honor at this epic bash, I totally deserve a sneak peek before everyone else gets to see you all dolled up!"

His rich timbre dipped into a suggestive burr over those last few words that made every nerve ending in your body prickle with keen awareness. Only Bokuto could manage to sound so utterly innocuous and temptation incarnate at the same time without even trying.

"Yeah?" you couldn't resist dragging out on a breathy exhale, watching the way his eyes tracked the swell of your chest with unconscious focus. "Well then maybe if you're a good boy and take your party planning duties seriously...I'll consider giving you a private show before the main event later."

Your voice definitely sounded far too heavy with promise by the end of that bold declaration. But Bokuto simply threw back his head in another bout of raucous laughter, utterly guileless in the face of your shamelessly smoldering once-over.

"Now you're speaking my language!" he grinned down at you with so much boyish exuberance. "I can’t wait to see you in it!"

Before you could attempt to disentangle yourself from his effortless charisma and get up from the sofa once more, Bokuto reached out without preamble to grasp your hips in both large palms. You immediately went rigid as the sheer strength and heat of him seared through the thin fabric between you, pinning you down with scorching insistence until you were staring up into those blazing amber depths helplessly.

"In fact, better go ahead and show me a little something right now, [Y/N]-chan..." he husked out in a tone of pure sin, tightening his fingers until they dug into your flaring curves possessively. "Just to prove you can really back up all that pretty talk when it counts..."

You choked down a desperate whimper, hands instinctively scrabbling against that broad chest for purchase as Bokuto quite literally stole what little breath remained in your lungs. This man would always be the undoing of you eventually, oblivious charm or not - you could feel it down to your molten core.

Before you could formulate any sort of reasoned response, the shrill peal of the class bell rang out across campus. Body thrumming with unrealized need, you pulled back with a breathless laugh and shifted your hands to brace against Bokuto's chiseled torso instead.

"Easy there, Casanova," you managed to purr around your shallow pants. "I've got lectures to get to before I can bless you with the big unveiling of my costume. Think you can manage to behave yourself 'til this evening without my immaculate guidance?"

The tiniest flicker of disappointment flashed across Bokuto's striking features before he instantly smoothed it over with a winsome grin that kicked your pulse into high gear once more.

"No promises, baby!" he rumbled richly as you stepped out of his searing reach with great reluctance. "Unless you tell me what deliciously sinful look I've got to look forward to later tonight, that is!"

Your bark of wry laughter sliced easily through the thick atmosphere of building tension. Without breaking stride, you simply shot him an arch look over one shoulder as you turned towards the door finally.

"Like I said, Kou - tonight's ensemble stays a surprise..." You let your heated stare trail down the powerful flex of his abdomen in frank appreciation. "But I suppose you'll find out soon enough if you can keep those gorgeous eyes from popping clear outta their sockets around me..."

You punctuated the brazen statement with a shameless wink before whirling and sauntering off to class, leaving Bokuto's dumbstruck expression and one faintly uttered "hey!" lingering in your wake. He and the rest of his thirsty friends were all in for one hell of an evening indeed if you had your wickedest desires indulged.

This time, even Bokuto's famous density might not shield him from the full seductive force of your flirtatious charms being brought to bear...

You surveyed your reflection in the full-length mirror with a critical eye, smoothing your hands over the sinfully form-fitting crimson silk clinging to your every tantalizing curve and dip. The sleeveless cheongsam-style dress left absolutely nothing to the imagination - from the daringly low neckline putting your generous cleavage front and center, to the soaring thigh-high slit that would leave your legs on full display with each strutting step.

A diabolical smirk tugged at the corners of your mouth as you gave yourself one final saucy twirl, admiring the hypnotic sway of gossamer fabric rippling around your hips like tongues of flame dancing. Oh yes...this scorchingly lush ensemble would undoubtedly be more than enough for capturing a certain owl's undivided, stupefied attention in a deliciously compromising way.

The opening fanfare of 'Crazy Bitch' by Buckcherry had you jumping slightly before fumbling for your buzzing phone. You quirked one brow in amusement at the caller ID flashing across the screen - of course Kuroo had set that particular ringtone for himself on your phone.

"You're cutting it pretty close, aren't you kitten?" your fellow troublemaker purred the second you accepted the call.

Despite the familiar edge of mischief in his honey-rich timbre, you frowned slightly at the thinly veiled agitation lacing his words. Which instantly set off warning bells as to the potential status of a certain host you happened to be running fashionably late on at the moment...

"Look, don't get your panties in a twist," you replied dismissively, turning to examine your perfectly tousled hair from another enticing angle. "This ensemble takes a little extra effort to paint on if I'm gonna see any hope of making our dense guest of honor's jaw hit the floor tonight."

Kuroo's laugh crackled over the line in a dark velvet ribbon of sin that instantly catapulted your mind straight into the proverbial gutter. "Oh trust me, princess...there'll be precious little hope of Bokubro keeping his hungry gaze above sea level once he lays eyes on the look you're fixin' to strut in here."

That got your full attention, pupils dilating with keen desire at the mere suggestion of your longtime crush devouring every delectable inch of exposed skin and indecent curves you'd purposefully curated on his behalf tonight. Anticipation ignited molten coils of heat unfurling deep in your lower belly, nearly making your knees go weak in the process.

Before you could launch into wheedling Kuroo for more tittilating details at Bokuto's current state of unraveling, another teasing voice sounded in the background - Atsumu's unmistakable lilt overlaying familiar snarking about keeping things PG. You immediately scowled at the familiar byplay between those unrepentant flirts, mind flashing with crystal clarity on the debauched tableau unfolding at the venue without you.

Well...wasting one more minute on harmless primping was utterly out of the question now. Not when you had the chance to witness Bokuto Koutarou rendered senseless in person dangling so tantalizingly close.

"Sorry guys, but I’m done readying myself for the night," you husked out in a throaty growl of your own. "I'm on my way, and every single inch will be on full display for my owl to sink those pretty fangs into as soon as I arrive..."

A beat of weighted silence answered your searing promise, fractured only by Atsumu's breathless, "Fuuuuck..." and Kuroo's guttural hum of approval somewhere beyond sight.

"Clock's ticking for Bokuto to finally get his sweet comeuppance, huh?" the roguish middle blocker husked out before you could end the call. "Make sure to draw this one out niiiice and slow, kitten...hear me?"

The underlying warning to savor your long-awaited seduction properly tripped a fresh spark of wicked delight lighting up your nerve endings like a powder keg. Grinning brilliantly, you leaned forward until your cleavage brushed the mirror in an absolutely tantalizing tease of things yet to come.

"Oh don't you worry, Tetsu," you purred out in a feathery rasp that would've made any lesser man spontaneously combust. Your smile carved itself into a lascivious expression carved in sin itself as a full-bodied shudder racked your form exquisitely. "Let's just say our dear, sweet volleyball dolt won't know what hell he's wandered into until it's far too late to escape..."

With a resonant laugh that rang out sultry promise in its wake, you severed the call and squared your shoulders towards the dorm door. This was no longer simply a night of yearning for a man's acknowledgment, but a prowl zeroing in on its helpless prey at long last.

And Bokuto, for all his staunchly oblivious charms, wouldn't even know he'd tumbled into your carefully-laid snare until you had him bound irreparably to your thrall.

By the time you arrived at the buzzing venue, the Halloween party already seemed to be in full chaotic swing. Thumping basslines and shrieks of laughter echoed from the open doors, mingling with the smoky tendrils of dry ice fog spilling onto the sidewalk. You paused just outside the entrance, running an appreciative gaze over your skin-tight scarlet ensemble one final time before squaring your shoulders.

Tonight marked the culmination of months spent finessing all your most tantalizing wiles aimed at thoroughly enrapturing Bokuto in every sense. No more playing coy or hedging around the matter at hand - by night's end, that gloriously dense owl would be utterly yours in both body and soul, whether he realized it yet or not.

Squaring your shoulders with renewed determination, you slinked inside with hips swaying in a deliberate beckoning rhythm. The packed venue swallowed you instantly, heady waves of cologne, spilled liquor, and hormones crashing over your senses in a disorienting rush.

After shouldering through the first few knots of costumed revelers, you finally spied your trifecta of troublemakers holding court in one corner - Atsumu in some laughably tight red devil getup, bracketed by Kuroo's wolfish grins and Bokuto's towering frame clad in...oh hell yes.

Your breath stuttered faintly as you drank in the sight of him finally. The deliciously snug waistcoat, crisp white button-down straining against those obscene pectorals, onyx cape billowing behind him in tantalizing wisps...capping it all off, of course, with a pair of delightfully dumb faux fangs jutting over his lush lower lip.

Kuroo was the first to spot your crimson-tinted approach, burning amber eyes flicking over your scintillating form with unabashed lust before a slow, predatory smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. He elbowed Atsumu sharply, dipping his chin fractionally to signal your presence. But almost immediately, both boys retreated without fanfare from Bokuto's restless orbit - evidently having deduced your singular intent on this bewitching night in short order.

You prowled closer to where your unsuspecting prey currently slouched, shoulders rounded inward in one of his mercurial funks you'd become so adept at piercing down the years. That stormy, petulant expression looked so deliciously out of place framed by the gothic splendor of his meticulous costume...and so utterly enthralling for it.

No more holding back, you decided with a resolute inhale. It was now or never.

"Well well, what do we have here?" you purred out in your lowest, smokiest register - one you knew full well made Bokuto shiver with unconscious yearning each time. "Tell me, tall dark and sulky...do those fangs actually work as intended?"

Bokuto's head snapped up so fast you actually heard the accompanying crack of bone. Those blown amber irises of his imploded to twin points of blazing intensity when they finally locked onto your approaching figure in earnest. For several charged breaths, he simply drank you in head to toe with slackened jaw and parted lips before answering.

"Wh....[Y/N]-chan?" he managed to exhale reverently, sounding utterly poleaxed in a way that made your belly swoop with heady triumph. "Holy shit, I...you look incred—"

"Don't hurt yourself there, Kou," you crooned before he could devolve into rambling. Closing the distance between you in two deliberate strides, you ghosted calloused fingertips over the lush swell of his lower lip he'd just failed to moisten. Bokuto went utterly rigid as a bowstring at your touch, eyes fluttering like a flayed nerve ending at your unrepentant perusal of him.

Your nail snagged gently over one slightly crooked fang, tugging insistently until Bokuto's mouth parted on a ragged inhale. Releasing his lip from your teasing hold, you took the final step forward until the swells of your bodies brushed together tantalizing.

"A good little creature of the night like yourself should know better than to try tasting anything without proper...invitation first, hmm?"

Bokuto swallowed hard enough for you to track the flexing column of his throat, brain evidently having abandoned every last thread of function and reason at this proximity. You simply smiled, all teeth and sin, relishing the tangible aura of his desire washing over you in hot, lapping waves as you leaned in until the faint wisps of his cologne surrounded your senses.

"So tell me, Kou..." you breathed out against the shell of one flushed lobe, watching him shiver compulsively down to the core. "Do those pretty fangs of yours only work on the willing...or is a taste imminent no matter my answer?"

Those blown amber irises of his locked onto your smoldering stare with the intensity of a physical caress. You felt the air leave your lungs in a shuddery exhale as Bokuto inclined his chiseled features towards you torturously, bodies swaying together as if by sheer magnetic compulsion.

"Only if you want to...baby," he finally rumbled out in a tone lush with the most exquisite promise. His impossibly soft mouth trailed tantalizingly over the curve of your jaw, harsh stubble searing a brand into your softest skin.

You quirked one delighted brow upwards, a shiver of pure power tingling over your nerves at how thoroughly you seemed to have enraptured Bokuto's full, undivided focus in a single heady exchange. The music thrumming through the crowded venue seemed to fade away until all that registered were the harsh breaths sawed between your tantalizing proximity.

Bokuto's nostrils flared as his burning amber stare raked over your body again in a way that should have felt crude, and yet only stoked the molten coil of desire in your core higher. When he finally met your gaze once more, there was no mistaking the reckless, unrestrained hunger blazing in those hypnotic depths.

"You think you're so fucking cute, don't you?" His low rumble lashed over your sensitized nerves like a physical caress. "Swanin' around in that little scrap of nothing, practically begging for me to rip it right off you in front of everyone?"

You inhaled shakily at the blatant possession laced through his gravelly accusation. Bokuto took an indelible step closer, the solid mass of his frame allowing no prospect of retreat or avoidance whatsoever. His broad chest brushed the swell of your breasts with each thrumming inhale, the delicious friction making you shudder despite yourself.

"I see the way you strut and pose and tease the everloving fuck out of me on purpose, gorgeous..." His tongue darted out to lave over that plush lower lip you'd spent countless fevered nights yearning to taste firsthand. "And trust me...I've been dreaming up some wonderfully wicked ways to shut that pretty mouth for good using my—"

"Kou..." you gasped out weakly, thrilled arousal cresting hot and electric through your shaken form.

He reached out without warning, one iron-banded forearm knotting tight around your waist to crush you flush against the uncompromising hardness of his body. Your lips parted soundlessly as his erection branded itself against the softness of your belly in an unmistakable promise.

"So let's cut through all the bullshit teasing and playing coy for once yeah, baby?" Bokuto rumbled directly against the pulse point beneath your jaw, sending your eyelashes fluttering helplessly. "Why don't we finally answer this burning question I've got about what sort of nasty little noises you make when I get you under me...?"

The sheer blistering vulgarity of his murmured temptation made your knees go liquid on the spot. You sagged forward in his unrelenting embrace, shaking hands finding the solid plane of Bokuto's abdomen to brace yourself against as his mouth trailed searing, open kisses along the exposed curve of your throat.

"...Because I gotta be honest, kitten..." he continued in that same unapologetic burr vibrating through you both deliciously. "These last few months of watchin' you flaunt every lush inch while staying just outta reach have been absolutely fuckin' torturous for me..."

One palm slid up from your hip to palm a generous handful of your ass, squeezing with indelicate possession that had you whimpering brokenly into the charged space between your fevered forms. There was simply no mistaking the raw, rapacious nature of Bokuto's desire any longer - it radiated off him in cresting waves of molten sin and domineering command.

"So no more games, no more pretty lil' distractions, yeah?" The silky heat of his mouth ghosted up to trail the delicate whorls of your ear as he spoke, voice gone gravelly and utterly compromising in its carnal promise. "Why don't you be a good girl and show me just how bad you need this wild ride to start already..."

Bokuto didn't bother waiting for your breathless assent before his hands were seizing your hips in a vice-like grip that stole what little remained of your composure. One dizzying spin later and you found yourself pinned between the immovable force of his hulking frame and the bathroom door he'd just propelled you both through.

"This ought to be secluded enough for our purposes, don'tcha think?" he rumbled out against the thundering pulse in your throat, tongue darting out to lap at the sweat beading along your fevered skin. "At least until I've had my first real taste of unwrapping you properly..."

You keened softly at the blatant insinuation, fingers scrabbling at the taut muscle of his shoulders for purchase as his hips angled forward to grind his insistent arousal against the juncture of your thighs tauntingly. The friction sent sparks of electric need shooting straight to your molten core so potently you saw stars momentarily.

"Mmm, fuck you sound delicious already, baby girl..." Bokuto practically growled against the vulnerable stretch of your throat where he mouthed hot, openmouthed kisses steadily downward. "And here I was thinking playing coy and innocent would be the biggest hurdle we'd have to conquer tonight."

One large, calloused palm drifted up to palm your breast through the flimsy silk barrier with unabashed possession. You whimpered at the rough caress, back arching instinctively to present your breasts in silent offering as he teased the rigid peak with the calloused pad of his thumb mercilessly.

"But nah...turns out that legendary sweet little temper of yours was always gonna pale beside this other absolutely ravenous side you've been keeping locked up tight from me, huh?"

His blazing amber gaze found yours once more - reflecting the same barely-bridled starvation surely shining from your own hooded stare as well. The intensity of it made your breath stutter in your chest as Bokuto ducked his chiseled features close until you could all but taste the crisp notes of his musky cologne on your tongue.

"Tell me, kitten..." he rasped out against the seam of your parted lips, finally pausing his thorough mapping of your quickening curves to level you with his full, overwhelming focus. "Does being the center of every last filthy fantasy spinning through my head right now make that greedy lil' pussy ache and throb the same way?"

You whimpered brokenly despite your best attempts at composure, the vulgar poetry of Bokuto's words uttered in that wrecked bass registering at a bone-deep level of bliss beyond even your most intoxicating dreams. Before you could so much as attempt reciprocating his bold impropriety, he surged forward again - all ferocious hunger and searing friction as his chiseled hips slotted into yours with bruising insistence.

"Gonna take that as a yes..." he growled against your swollen mouth, teeth nipping at your lower lip possessively before soothing the heated sting with velvet swirls of his tongue. "Don't you worry your pretty lil' head, though...we're gonna get this aching emptiness all squared away in a hot minute, baby. Just the two of us, the way it's been meant to be for a long fuckin' time now, yeah?"

In a dizzying flurry of motion, Bokuto suddenly banded both powerful forearms beneath your thighs and hitched you clear off your feet with a low, satisfied grunt. You cried out at the new precarious angle and the way it left you utterly exposed and spread wide around his thighs, pussy already slickening in desperation against the rigid heat branding your intimate flesh.

"After all..." he continued in that dark, carnal tone that seemed to reverberate through every straining tendon and bone betwixt your frantic forms. "What's the point of giving in to this if I don't intend to fully enjoy myself with you, pretty?"

You choked on a wanton whimper as Bokuto punctuated that decadent promise by grinding up into you sharply - his cock dragging against your drenched folds with devastating friction. One hand left your thigh to grasp your jaw in a punishing grip, angling your features up to receive the full force of his heated intensity unobstructed.

"Open up for me, pretty girl..." he growled when you managed to flutter your eyes back open in a daze. "Got something else I'm just dyin' to unwrap for you now that we're all alone..."

Bokuto paused for emphasis, casting you a downright lascivious grin filled with dark promise as one thumb traced the plump curve of your lower lip deliberately. The vulgar implications danced behind his heavy-lidded stare, lighting fresh trails of heady desire licking through your veins like wildfire.

He snared your dazed focus and simply held it captive for several ragged heartbeats as his grin bled slowly into something fiercer, more predatory. Then with his next words the final threads of your restraint splintered into dust at last:

"Been practicing on how best to use these fangs on your sweet lil' body for weeks now, pretty thing..." Bokuto rumbled with liquid sin sewn through every syllable. "Wanna show you just how sharp they are and how fucking good I can make you feel when you finally give yourself over to me, yeah?"

You shuddered against him at the blatant insinuations woven into the carnal tapestry of his offer. It took an inordinate amount of effort to peel your tongue away from the roof of your mouth and shape the breathless, fervent words clawing their way free from the back of your throat:

"Yes please...!"

Bokuto's answering groan was a thing of pure animal hunger as he sealed his lips against yours once more. One large, calloused palm braced the nape of your neck, holding you fast in place as he ravished your mouth with a ravenous intensity that made you see stars. You whimpered brokenly as his tongue traced the seam of your mouth before delving inside to map every secret crevice and corner with shameless urgency.

You gave as good as you got in the fervent exchange, nails scrabbling at the corded strength of his broad shoulders as you attempted to press impossibly closer. His cock throbbed hot and heavy against your inner thigh as he licked into your mouth like he intended to claim it for his own with each decadent stroke.

It was the sort of kiss you'd only dared dream of for far too long - deep, dizzying, and utterly overwhelming in the best possible sense. Bokuto kissed you like a man starving for his very next breath - devouring you whole and relishing every last delectable morsel until nothing remained except the most exquisite, unquenchable craving for more.

"Fuck, that's it..." he rumbled out against your trembling mouth after breaking the kiss for air. His fangs dragged over the tender skin of your lower lip tauntingly as his scorching gaze bored into you with predatory intent. "Knew you'd be the sweetest fucking treat I've ever tasted, baby girl..."

Your whimper turned into a full-throated cry when his mouth dipped lower and began laying claim to the sensitive curve of your throat once more. Those fangs nipped and teased and suckled at the delicate skin until your entire body was strung tight as a bowstring in his unrelenting grip.

Then without warning, the flat of his tongue slicked a decadent path up the straining column of your throat. You shivered with pleasure when the rasping sensation registered on your hypersensitized nerves - the subtle scrape of his stubble leaving goosebumps in its wake as he lapped up every last drop of sweat dotting your skin.

"Oh fuck..." you moaned hoarsely, hips rocking forward in search of friction. "Kou, please—"

"Gotta mark you up first, baby." His graveled reply ghosted over the hollow of your throat, sending the fine hairs along the back of your neck standing on end. "Need everyone to know exactly who you belong to after tonight."

Then before you could manage a response, Bokuto's teeth sank into the tender stretch of flesh directly over your pulse point.

The sudden pain was a searing shock, stealing the air from your lungs in a gasp. It took you a moment to register the low, rumbling growl reverberating through Bokuto's chest as he sucked and lapped at the bite. He pulled away just enough to lap at the reddened skin and soothe the lingering sting, and then his lips were sealed against your throat once more - suckling and scraping and marking until a full-body shudder wracked your fevered form.

"There..." he rasped against the shell of your ear, breath fanning across the tender, sweat-dampened flesh. "That’s just one of many marks I'm gonna leave behind after tonight, kitten."

The low, graveled cadence of his voice sent a thrill shooting straight to your core as you sagged forward into his embrace. Bokuto shifted his grip, allowing the full length of your torso to mold against his as he continued his decadent worship. Your arms twined around his neck to anchor yourself against the relentless waves of pleasure crashing through you.

"So much more to go before I'm done with you, baby." He nipped and sucked his way down to the slope of your breasts, hands kneading and caressing the ample flesh. "But I think it's time we get started unwrapping you properly now."

One hand snaked around to your lower back and tugged at the knot. It fell away easily, allowing the sleeves to flutter loose around the swell of your shoulders. You bit back a moan at the feel of his lips curving against your skin as he pressed an openmouthed kiss directly over the frantic pulse fluttering just beneath the surface.

"There's my perfect girl..." Bokuto rumbled low as he reached around to peel the garment down just beneath the swell of your breasts. "Show me those gorgeous tits now, sweetheart..."

You keened weakly as he pulled away, allowing you to shift back against the wall and arch your back. Your hands trailed down to the thin fabric still bunched around your waist, but before you could make a move Bokuto was there - one hand wrapping around your wrist to still the motion.

"Nuh uh, baby..." His molten gaze raked over the generous curve of your exposed chest and the stiff peaks of your nipples with ravenous hunger. "Lemme do the honors. You've been driving me crazy with the teasing for long enough already."

Bokuto released your wrist and reached forward. He grasped the silk and eased it down until it fell to a puddle of satin at your feet. Your breath hitched at the sudden chill washing over the freshly exposed skin, only to have your thoughts derailed by the sound of Bokuto's low, drawn-out whistle.

"Fuck..." His voice had gone thick with blatant appreciation as his amber stare raked over every exposed inch. "And here I thought that skimpy pink number you wore for the team's New Year's party was gonna be the one I'd finally lose my shit over."

One large, calloused palm slid up the smooth curve of your belly to cup your breast with possessive hunger. You shuddered at the rough friction, back arching into his touch with shameless eagerness. Bokuto grinned with a low, approving chuckle as his other hand drifted to mirror its counterpart.

"But damn, kitten...gotta say that this is definitely a close second." He tweaked and teased the tender flesh until your thighs were trembling with desperation. "So fuckin' soft and pretty. I'm gonna have the time of my life burying my face in 'em, baby girl."

Bokuto punctuated his decadent declaration with a sharp, deliberate squeeze that had you whimpering aloud. Then his mouth was upon you, teeth scraping over the taut buds until the sting registered as a bolt of white-hot pleasure searing straight to your core. You keened brokenly, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck to urge him on.

"Kou, please..."

"Please what, sweetheart?" His breath ghosted hot and damp against the underside of your breast as his mouth trailed lower. "Want me to keep sucking these sweet lil' tits 'til I've had my fill?"

He pinched the pebbled peaks between his thumbs and forefingers and gave them a slow, torturous twist that had your legs shaking on the spot. His eyes darted up to capture your hazy, feverish stare in their blazing heat, and then his lips curled up into a devilish grin.

"Or are you ready for me to show you how fucking good it's gonna feel when I'm eating this greedy pussy instead?"

The sheer obscenity of his words combined with the slow, deliberate grind of his hips against yours made you see stars. He was so hard against you, so insistent and aching and thick—

"Y-yes...oh god, Kou...please!"

Your response was a desperate, broken cry - half-whimper, half-moan as you clung to him desperately. He smirked against your flushed skin and rewarded you with a final, teasing lick before releasing the abused peak with a wet pop. Then his molten amber gaze found yours, and the predatory promise burning within it sent a delicious thrill dancing along your spine.

"Well, since you asked so nicely, pretty girl..."

Before you could so much as draw another breath, Bokuto was hooking both arms around your thighs and hoisting you clear off your feet in a dizzying, breathless rush. He spun on his heel and took three purposeful strides forward, then paused just long enough to deposit you unceremoniously atop the bathroom countertop.

The marble surface was cool against the heated flush of your bare skin, sending a shudder racing through you. Before you could regain your bearings, Bokuto's palms were skating along your calves and trailing up to the backs of your knees, coaxing them wider and wider until they were splayed wide around his broad frame.

"Fuck, baby girl...that's a helluva view..." he rumbled in approval, hands skimming further upwards to cup the backs of your thighs and squeeze possessively. "Been dreaming about this pretty pussy for way too fucking long now."

You moaned when his thumbs traced the sensitive juncture of thigh and pelvis, so close and yet so far away from where you were throbbing and aching and needy. Then he was ducking his head to the crook of your inner thigh and pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the salty, quivering flesh.

"Think I'll start by seeing if I can make you cream all over these fingers while I'm getting this sweet cunt nice and wet, baby..."

The dark, carnal promise sent a jolt of pure electricity straight to your clit. Bokuto's teeth scraped over the delicate skin, tongue tracing patterns over the sensitive expanse as his hands urged your legs further apart. The cool air of the bathroom made you shiver as he mouthed his way towards your soaked core.

"Kou, p-please..."

Your pleas died on a shattered moan when he suddenly leaned in and licked a decadent, filthy swipe over your clothedpussy. The rasp of his tongue over the thin, drenched fabric left you writhing, fingers scrabbling against the countertop for purchase as his fingers dug bruises into your quivering thighs.

"Gotta get my dessert, baby..." he rasped, breath fanning over your sensitive flesh and leaving you whimpering. "Don't wanna waste a single drop."

The next thing you knew, he was yanking your thong to the side and diving between your spread legs with a low, satisfied groan.

His tongue traced the crease of your inner thigh for the briefest moment, only to dart straight up to the swollen nub of your clit the next. You keened at the sudden onslaught, head lolling back against the mirror behind you with a breathless sob.

"Oh god...!"

Bokuto growled with feral approval as he licked and suckled and teased at the bundle of nerves with unerring accuracy. Each stroke of his tongue was a sinfully decadent combination of rough and smooth and so, so wet - dragging across the hypersensitive skin with the most exquisite friction.

He laved the flat of his tongue in broad strokes that had you squirming helplessly. You cried out when the tip flicked and curled and stroked against your throbbing clit until you were panting and writhing, thighs quaking around his shoulders.

Bokuto didn't stop there, though. He was ravenous in his pursuit, devouring your pussy like it was the best fucking meal he'd ever had. One hand released your thigh, and then his fingers were parting the swollen folds to delve deeper still. You choked on a broken moan when the first two plunged into the molten depths of your aching core with ruthless abandon.

"So fucking wet and tight for me already, baby girl..."

Those long, thick digits curled up and hit a spot deep within you that made you see stars. He began stroking, massaging the tender patch with each thrust. His other hand snaked around the inside of your thigh and dragged over the swollen nub of your clit.

The double stimulation sent a jolt of electricity shooting straight through you, and before you could even register it your muscles were clamping down around him in a sudden, powerful release.

Bokuto groaned as your release spilled out over his fingers and drenched the countertop. He didn't slow his pace, though. If anything, he increased the speed of his thrusts - pistoning in and out of your sopping wet channel with a lewd, wet squelching noise. His tongue circled and flicked and teased until the aftershocks gave way to a new, fresh wave of pleasure that had you keening aloud.

"That's it, baby girl..." Bokuto crooned, pulling away to pepper messy kisses along the crease of your thigh. His fingers slowed, but didn't stop their unrelenting assault. "God, look at how fucking good you taste...gonna need seconds soon."

The vulgar promise had you moaning, fingers digging into the short strands of his hair and tugging insistently. He chuckled darkly, lips curling against the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh before he sank his fangs into the plush give and sucked with a low, satisfied groan.

"Ahh!"

It was too much - the rough drag of his tongue and the scrape of his stubble against your quivering thighs, the way his fingers curled and scissored and spread the walls of your core until you were dripping and stretched wide. The sensation of his fangs buried deep in the delicate skin was a delicious, decadent agony that had you arching up from the countertop with a strangled cry.

"Fuck, so pretty for me..."

Bokuto's husky murmur sounded muffled and distant to your ears, the words distorted by the haze of pleasure clouding your senses. He lapped up the last drops of your release, tongue circling and teasing over the swollen, throbbing nub once more. Your legs jerked, inner muscles clamping down on his fingers with a renewed urgency.

"Kou...need more..."

Your voice was a wrecked, broken plea, barely recognizable to your own ears. Your fingers tightened in his hair, nails digging into his scalp until a low, feral growl vibrated through the taut line of his back.

"Need what, baby? Tell me what you need, and it's all yours."

Bokuto withdrew his fingers slowly, only to add a third alongside them. The extra stretch had you whimpering, eyes squeezing shut as the overwhelming fullness registered in your fevered senses. His thumb pressed against your clit, circling and stroking in a rough, relentless rhythm as his fingers drove into you over and over and over again.

"C'mon, sweetheart...tell me what you need."

Bokuto pulled away, his breath fanning over your sopping entrance as he crooked his fingers in a 'come-hither' motion. He knew exactly what he was doing, and the knowledge sent a fresh surge of arousal pooling between your legs. You bucked your hips, desperate for more of that delicious friction that had your thighs quaking and toes curling.

"Y-Your cock, Kou..." you managed on a broken moan, head tossing back as the sensations began to overwhelm you. "Please...need you so fucking bad, please—!"

The next thing you knew, his hands were hooking beneath your knees and pushing them against your chest. Bokuto's body blanketed yours, his thick, muscular form pressing you back against the countertop in an intoxicating cage of heat and hard muscle. His hips rocked forward, the thick ridge of his clothed cock grinding against your exposed, throbbing core with delicious friction.

"I gotcha, baby girl...gonna give it to you real good now, okay?"

His low, graveled rasp ghosted hot and damp against the shell of your ear before he pressed a searing kiss to the curve of your throat. You whined in agreement, hands grasping and groping at his back as your hips jerked up in search of friction. Bokuto rumbled his approval, one hand reaching between your bodies to free himself from his pants.

Then he was guiding the blunt, weeping tip of his cock against your drenched opening. The slick, smooth glide was an agonizing sort of perfection as he pressed forward - each inch a torturous blend of bliss and burning fullness that left you trembling and gasping for breath.

"Too…big..."

The words escaped on a choked, ragged sob. Your fingers scrabbled against the broad expanse of his shoulders, the stretch bordering on painful. It felt like you were being split in two, the sensation only magnified by the way his fingers were gripping your thighs so hard you were sure they would leave behind the faint imprint of his fingertips.

"Easy, sweetheart...you're taking me so fucking good right now..." Bokuto rasped against the side of your throat, the words coming out in a strained, guttural snarl. "Feel so damn perfect...fuck, I'm not gonna last long like this..."

You whimpered, thighs quivering reflexively at the strain as you willed yourself to relax. The burn was easing a little, though not by much. Bokuto pressed his face against the curve of your shoulder, teeth sinking into the tender flesh with a low, feral groan as he sheathed himself inside you completely.

"You're so goddamn tight, baby girl..."

There was a breathless, reverent note to his words that belied the carnal desperation lurking just beneath the surface. His hips shifted, and then he was moving - drawing back slowly before plunging forward in a single, sharp thrust that made you both see stars.

"Holy shit..."

The hoarse, guttural expletive fell from his lips on a harsh, ragged exhale as his grip tightened on your thighs. Bokuto's movements were a study in contradictions - each stroke measured and controlled, his movements almost leisurely in their pace. Yet there was a tension thrumming through him, the raw, primal hunger simmering beneath the surface betrayed by the way his fingers were leaving bruises in their wake.

"Fuck, Kou...! So fucking good...!"

You keened the words as your body adjusted, the sting giving way to a molten, throbbing heat. You were so full, so deliciously stretched and filled and used - every thrust a torturous blend of agony and ecstasy that had you seeing stars.

Bokuto was relentless in his pursuit, and you couldn't have been more grateful. Each snap of his hips was harder and faster than the last, each thrust accompanied by a low, guttural snarl that told you he was holding back.

"That's it, kitten...just a little bit more..."

The words were a low, filthy rumble as he released one of your thighs to reach between your bodies and rest his palm flat against the quivering, flushed plane of your stomach. You whimpered, inner muscles clamping down around him in anticipation. His fingers pressed downward, and a fresh wave of pleasure flooded your veins when he found the thick ridge of his cock moving in and out of your core.

"Holy fuck, baby...you feel that?" Bokuto's mouth found your throat, fangs sinking into the flushed, salty skin with a feral snarl. "Feel how deep I am inside you, kitten?"

His words sent a thrill racing along your spine, your hips bucking up in answer. Then his thumb was grinding down against your clit and stroking, circling the bundle of nerves in a relentless, decadent assault that had you keening his name.

"Oh god, Kou...g-gonna cum, please, don't stop...!"

You were right there on the edge, the coil of pressure and heat tightening and tightening with each delicious thrust. Bokuto's hand shifted from the your stomach to the back of your thigh, angling you just so and forcing your leg wider.

"Let go for me, baby...wanna feel this pretty cunt cream all over my cock, understand?"

The words were a feral, snarling growl, his breath hot and damp against the curve of your shoulder. The next thing you knew, his hips snapped forward - driving into you at a brutal, unrelenting pace that had you keening, his cock dragging against that one spot with ruthless precision.

The coil within you snapped, and your release crashed through you in a white-hot, blinding wave. You screamed his name, back bowing up off the countertop in a sharp arch as the pleasure took over. Bokuto's snarl came from a place so deep within him that it sounded foreign, his hips jerking forward one final time before he buried himself inside you with a strangled groan.

His release spilled out into you in a scorching, wet rush, coating your walls and filling you until there was no room left. Bokuto's breath stuttered, the air hissing out between clenched teeth as his muscles seized and locked up.

The pair of you lay there, panting and dazed, for a long moment. When the tremors began to subside, Bokuto eased himself out slowly, hissing through his teeth when his cock slipped free and his release dribbled out over your quivering thighs.

You didn't have the energy to be embarrassed by the sight, nor the mess. Bokuto seemed unfazed, his amber eyes gleaming with a predatory satisfaction that had you shivering all over again.

"Well...I don't know about you, but I'm in the mood for a second course."

You moaned when his lips ghosted across the shell of your ear, the sound turning into a yelp when his arms tightened around you and swept you up off the countertop. Bokuto's answering chuckle was warm and low, his amber gaze burning into yours.

"Gonna feed you some more, baby girl...and then we're taking this back to my dorm, so I can get a proper taste. Sound good to you?"

All you could do was nod and wrap your arms around his neck, the ache between your legs flaring anew at the promise.

"Good. Because I'm nowhere near done with you yet."