#like.. c’mon you can’t figure out most of us have praise kinks??

[rinhaler]

If you’re a blank blog you’re getting blocked

If you don’t have an age indicator you’re getting blocked

If you say ‘part two?’ You’re getting BLOCKT

[thebadgerclan]

NSFW Alphabet: Nikolai Lantsov

Some spice for our King on this lovely Friday

(AND OF COURSE I’M USING THIS GIF, C’MON MAN 🥵🥵)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Nikolai is the most doting, most affectionate, most loving man after sex there ever was and ever will be. He’ll curl himself around you, pepper your skin with kisses, whisper sweet nothings in your ear.  Very lovey-dovey, very clingy.  You want water?  Snacks?  A bath?  Whatever you want, it’s yours.  

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Nikolai loves your lips: the way they look when you’re smiling, the way they feel pressed against his, his neck, his chest, the way they feel wrapped around his cock.  “Sweeter words have never fallen from a sweeter pair of lips, my love.”  On him, Nikolai likes his arms.  Years aboard the Volkvolny have given him quite a figure, and the fact that he’s able to life you up with little effort, press you against a wall, or just cradle you in his arms turns him on

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s the King of Ravka, so naturally, Nikolai needs heirs (and he is more than happy to give you as many Little Lantsovs as you want).  Nikolai prefers to come inside you, but if you’re not ready for kids (or not on the Alkemi contraceptive), or not comfortable with it, he’ll pull out before he finishes.  One thing I feel like Nikolai wouldn’t like it coming on your face.  There’s something about it he finds degrading, and he doesn’t want you to feel like anything less than his beloved Queen

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Before you were married, Nikolai would sneak into your rooms and steal your handkerchiefs (which he sprayed with your perfume).  It started as a way to feel like you were close to him, but it evolved to him holding them to his nose while he got himself off.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Before he met you, Nikolai had quite a few partners, male and female, so he’s rather experienced.  But our King is faithful to the last: once he’s yours, you are it, there’s no other woman he’d ever look at.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Nikolai’s a fan of missionary and cowgirl, both positions afford him the opportunity to look at you and drink in your beauty.  Really any position that lets him be close to you he’s into

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Nikolai will 100% crack his stupid little jokes while having sex: “Oh Saints!”  “They’re not here, lovely, just me.”-----”Fuck!”  “That’s what I’m doing, darling.”.  

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps himself trimmed: mostly for his own comfort than anything else 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Oh sweet Jesus, Nikolai Lantsov is the KING (hah) of romance.  When he’s not cracking his jokes, he’s whispering praises into your ear; telling you how much he loves you, how good you make him feel, how much he wants you, etc.  This man could wax poetics about you for DAYS if you’d let him, especially during sex

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

There are days when Nikolai can’t pry himself away from his work long enough to come to bed at a reasonable time, and it’s on those days when he usually resorts to taking care of himself.  After he met you, there was little need for him to get himself off, as you were usually willing to take care of him, but when one or both of you are too busy or too tired, he’ll get himself off, always thinking of you

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Nikolai 100% wants to do a roleplay as Sturmhond.  Maybe you’re a passenger he picked up and you have no other way to pay for your passage, maybe you’re travelling through the Bone Road and there’s no other way to keep warm.  Aside from that, MASSIVE praise kink: tell him how good he feels and he’s gone

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The only place Nikolai really feels comfortable enough having sex is the privacy of your chambers.  Anywhere else in the Palace is too exposed, to crowded.  The only exception is his (or yours) private study with the doors locked.  But he’s not against telling you that the doors aren’t locked to add the element of getting caught

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you take charge.  The first time you ever really asserted your authority as Queen at court, Nikolai had to drag you from the throne room and eat you out.  I don’t see him as the type to give up control completely in bed, but if you assert yourself a little, boss him around a bit, he’ll be putty in your hands

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Sharing you.  Or more specifically, sharing himself.  Countless women at court vie for the King’s attention, some making outright requests to share his bed, and he denies them all.  The thought of taking anyone but you to bed makes him ill

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Nikolai can (and will, and has) spend hours with his head between your thighs, eating your cunt, making you scream.  It’s honestly one of his favorite things, and he expects absolutely nothing in return.  In fact, he once came into your study, got on his knees, lifted your skirts, ate you out, pressed a kiss to your cheek, and left.  No requests that you return the favor, no hinting that he wanted you to get him off, it was because he wanted to.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Both, but Nikolai prefers gentle, tender lovemaking.  Yes, there will be nights when he shoves you into the mattress and rails you like there’s no tomorrow

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Nikolai’s not a fan of quickies, he needs time to properly worship you. (and those are his words)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Nikolai’s willing to try almost anything once, unless it would put your safety at risk.  You want him to be more dominating?  He’s down.  You want to try a new position?  Sure!  You want him to edge you?  Of course.  You want him to spank you?  Nope, not happening

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Nikolai can last as long as you want him to.  One round or 5, he’s able to hold himself back long enough to make sure you get as much pleasure as you want.  This does bite you in the ass sometimes, when he’s in one of his teasing moods, he’ll draw your pleasure out until he’s satisfied

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

There is an entire division of the Materialki workshop now dedicated to the King’s....endeavors.  Restraints, dildos, plugs, vibrators, anything you could imagine, he gets for you.  This is the man who invented flying ships, after all

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

When he’s in the right mood, Nikolai can tease and edge you for hours, literally making you cry.  He will make you beg for what you want, make you work for what you want, and he’s always good for it.  Plus the aftercare when he teases you is *chefs kiss*

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

I feel like Nikolai would lean on the slightly quieter side until he learned how much hearing him turned you on (me projecting?  nah 😂).  After than, he’s moaning in your ear about how good you feel, how hard you make him.  And when you suck him off, this man whimpers

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

After your wedding, Nikolai took you on your honeymoon to The Wandering Isle, on the Volkvolny, of course.  Which meant you spent your wedding night on the ship.  Now, Nikolai is nothing if not a man of traditional, so naturally, your marriage is consumated that night.  And everyone on board, I mean everyone hears.  And the funny thing it, Nikolai doesn’t care.  He’s a possessive man, and he knows how his crew looks at you; now they know just whose you are

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Nikolai is by no means a small man.  I put him at a good 8 inches with a thickness that necessitates him stretching you out with his fingers before fucking you

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

If it were up to him, Nikolai would fuck you every minute of every day.  So yeah, his sex drive is high.  If he even gets an inkling that you might be wanting him, he’s down, he’s ready, he’s on his knees

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Once he’ sure you’re taken care of, that you’re comfortable and have everything you need, Nikolai usually drops off pretty quickly.  He never slept well before meeting you, but with you, he actually sleeps soundly

[gojosnympho]

cleaning day - k.nj

pairing: kim namjoon x black!fem!reader

genre: smut, lil bit of fluff, pwp, non-idol!au

word count: 2.5k

content warnings: established relationship, pet names, unprotected sex (don’t), lil bit of a breeding kink 🫣, dirty talk, oral (fem receiving), praise, ass slapping, teasing, sex with joon over a counter (bc that needs a warning in itself), and multiple orgasms. (lemme know if i missed anything <3)

author’s note: this is my first time posting on here so let me know if y’all fucking with it and i’ll post more! <3 (also idk how to do the read more thing yet so i apologize for clogging up your dash🥲) i figured it out!!!

you designated saturday mornings for cleaning up the apartment you and namjoon shared. he helped usually, other times he “needed to run an errand”, or “yoongi needed his help with something” when he didn’t want to help you clean. most of the time you didn’t really mind it because it wasn’t a frequent occurrence and because he took such good care of you so cleaning the shared space by yourself from time to time wasn’t that much of a huge deal. today was one of his “errand” days. he’d left almost as soon as you started playing old r&b songs over the jbl speaker you used when cleaning. he knew what that playlist meant and he wanted no parts today.

right now you were in the kitchen washing the dishes and jamming out to an old r&b song your mother used to play throughout the house on cleaning days. you didn’t even realize that your boyfriend was watching you from the doorway of the kitchen. you hummed along to the song as you made sure the plate you were washing was clean to your liking, then you moved on to the next one. he was still watching you, taking in your appearance. you were in your regular cleaning day attire: one of his big ass shirts that damn near swallowed you whole, a pair of shorts, your scarf or bonnet, and slippers. he always thought you looked so pretty like that.

he walked up behind you and snaked his strong arms around your waist, “hi, sweetheart.” he greeted you with a kiss to your cheek. you melted into him almost; the smell of his cologne clouding your senses. “hi, joonie. back so soon?” you teased him with a giggle. usually he’d be gone until he knew you’d finished cleaning. you wondered what was so different today.

“i just missed you too much to stay gone, princess.” his sweet words made you giggle again. you continued your task of washing the dishes while he stayed wrapped around you. once you’d finished you were taking off the yellow dishwashing gloves and about to pull away from namjoon but he held you against him.

“what are you up to?” you asked him, craning your neck to look back at him. he had a smirk splayed on his face, dimpling his cheeks. mischief was swimming in his brown eyes. when you realized you shook your head no at him. you knew what he was up to now. horny bastard. “if you can’t help me clean up then you can’t have no pussy.” you turned in his arms so that you were facing him now, looking up at the tall man. he frowned at you, his dimples disappearing with his action.

“i promise i’ll help after.” he said and his stupidly handsome face and the pout on his face almost had you dropping your panties right there but you stopped yourself. “i literally look so unattractive right now.” you said and he sucked his teeth. oh how he hated when you talked down on yourself. even if you were just joking. “you can never look unattractive. now c’mon, baby, let me bend you over this counter,” he taps the cold marble counter with his hand for emphasis, “and fuck you until you’re creaming all over my dick.”

his words made you moan softly. you nodded at him and that’s when he pressed his lips to yours. the kiss was sweet at first his hand went to caress your cheek while his tongue pushed inside your mouth. it quickly turned needy and desperate though. you couldn’t believe he’d gotten you this riled up in such a short amount of time. he pulled you in deeper, placing his large hand on the back of your neck for leverage. soon his lips were on your neck to give it the same treatment. you moaned at the feeling of him biting your neck and then licking over the spot to soothe the ache.

while his lips were busy on your neck, his hands were running up and down your backside, and then his hands were under your—his shirt to play with your boobs. he squeezed the mounds of flesh in his hands and you both moaned at the feeling. your nipples pebbled under his touch. even after the three years you’d been together he still had the same effect on you and your body.

“love your titties baby. so perfect.” he praised squeezing them again drawing yet another moan from your already parted lips. he began rolling the hard nipples between his fingers and you moaned again but this time it was a little louder. he tugged on them softly and watched as you twitched and keened under his touch. if his dick wasn’t hard before it definitely was now. you looked so fucking pretty he thought.

“stop teasing me, joon.” you whined. you enjoyed foreplay just as much as the next girl but you needed him inside of you now. he usually preferred to at least make you cum once before actually fucking you because of how…big he was but right now you didn’t think you needed to be prepped. just the thought of him wanting you so badly he was willing to take you over the counter was enough to make you gush.

joon, to your dismay, ignored your comment and continued the ministrations on your body and leaving hickeys all over your neck. his hands were caressing your sides and your belly now. his hands were warm against you; in a way it was comforting. he pressed his lips to yours once more to swallow all the moans you made. “gonna eat your pussy. would you like that, princess?” he asked against your lips. you mumbled a soft “yes” in response. fuck what you were saying earlier about foreplay. if he was willing to give you head, who were you to deny him.

he turned you back around so that you were leaning over the counter. your clothed breasts laid flat against the hard surface and the cold marble made your nipples even harder than they already were. behind you, namjoon was pulling your shirt up to get a view of your ass. your sleep shorts hug the lower half of your body, the shape of your ass very prominent in them. you jolted forward when you felt him leave a smack on the right cheek. it wasn’t enough to actually leave any sting but it was enough to make your ass jiggle upon impact.

you felt him hook his fingers in your shorts and underwear and pull them down your legs. he helped you step out of them and then threw the clothing to the side. now here you were in your freshly cleaned kitchen half naked, dripping, and waiting for your boyfriend to touch you where you were aching for him the most. you didn’t even care that you would have to clean the counters and floor again as long as he was gonna fuck you. you felt his fingers trail up your thigh and stop right before he got to your pussy.

“kim namjoon! enough of the teasing!” you complained with a stomp of your foot. he chuckled at you but ultimately he gave you what you wanted because he wanted it just as bad. his hand finally found the wet slit of your pussy. both of you moaned, you because even that small touch felt so fucking good and him because of how wet you are.

“oh, baby. you’re dripping.” he said, barely above a whisper. he pulled his fingers away from your cunt to show you just how wet you were. his long fingers were glistening with your arousal and the sight had you moaning again. he returned his hand between your legs to rub circles into your clit.

“so good, joonie.” you praised him as your eyes fluttered closed from the pleasure. he was so skilled with his fingers and he knew it too. there’s been plenty of times when namjoon got you off with nothing but his fingers. he was even more skilled with his tongue though and that’s what you really wanted. it’s like he read your mind because you felt his thick tongue lick a stripe up your pussy. “oh fuck!” you cried out gripping on to the edge of the counter. he chuckled from behind you which sent vibrations straight into your dripping hole.

he attached his lips to your clit and began to suck on it while you moaned and pushed your ass back against his face. he grabbed your ass cheeks and spread them to give him a better view of your pussy. he flattened his tongue against your sex to lick up the juices that gushed from you. you were sure you were making a fucking mess but he didn’t give a fuck and honestly? neither did you. he slurped up more of your juices before returning back to sucking your clit.

“taste so good, baby girl.” he said into your pussy. you moaned again at his words. your orgasm was steadily approaching and if he kept going at this rate you were gonna cum. you started to grind down on his tongue to speed up the process. he noticed so he grabbed your hips to help you out. you dragged your pussy across his tongue at a steady pace until you felt that feeling in your stomach start to come undone.

“fuck, joon! ‘m cumming!” you cried out as you continued to move against his tongue. with a gasp and a soundless scream you were creaming all over his tongue, wetting his face even more in the process. you rode his tongue a little longer until the intense feeling went away. you sighed and used the little strength you had to look over your shoulder. joon smiled at you, his face shiny with your juices.

“how did that feel?” he asked you smugly. cocky bastard.

“it felt amazing but you didn’t need me to tell you that. the evidence is all over your face.” you said to him. he licked around his mouth trying to get as much of your juices off as he could.

“you made a mess.” he responded simply. you chuckled before laying your cheek on the counter again. the first orgasm still buzzing on your skin. you heard joon getting undressed behind you; his clothes hitting the ground with soft thuds. “are you ready for me, baby?” he asked you, sweetly.

“yes, joonie. please fuck me.” that’s all it took. the blunt head of his dick was running through your folds to collect your arousal and then he pushed into you slowly. “so fucking tight.” he mutters under his breath before pulling all the way out of you and then slamming back into you with no mercy. your body jolted forward from the sudden intrusion but before you could give him shit for it he was already giving you strokes that had every thought falling from your pretty little head.

his strokes were deep but slow. you could feel your pussy clenching around him with each thrust. all you could do was moan at the feeling. he was basically splitting you open. he started moving faster now, rocking his hips into you until the sound of skin on skin resounded throughout your kitchen. you moaned again trying so hard not to scream but it was nearly impossible because he was reaching so deep inside of you. he placed his hands on your hips to give himself more leverage to speed up even more. he was pounding into you now, pushing you up the counter with each powerful thrust. he pulled you back against him each time, the tip of his fat dick bumping against your sweet spot. your toes were curling and your jaw was slack as choked whimpers and moans came from your throat.

“you feel so fucking good…fuck!” he said and you moaned in response not being able to say anything with the way he was fucking you. he didn’t mind though. he enjoyed nothing more than fucking you stupid until you were nothing but a puddle beneath him. he angled his hips up so that now every time he drove into you he was pushing even harder against that spot inside of you.

“don’t stop, baby. please don’t stop.” you reached behind you to wrap your hands around his wrists to ground yourself because you were losing your fucking mind. he kept snapping into you, his hips smacking against your ass every second and you were seeing stars.

he moved your hands from his wrists and then pulled your body up so that you were standing back to chest. he never stopped fucking into you and this new position had you clenching around his dick so hard it was almost painful. you were dangerously close to toppling over the edge and joon knew it too.

“you gonna cum baby?” he asked and you nodded frantically. “yeah? you gonna cum all over this dick? milk me for everything i have?” you moaned at his words and he chuckled at you. he reached in front of you to rub your clit in fast circles. you cried out his name in a high pitched voice and his next words had you cumming all over him: “cum for me baby so i can breed this fucking pussy.”

you clamped down on him violently and as your orgasm washed over you, you chanted his name. he chuckled into your ear and then placed a kiss on your sweaty cheek. “that’s a good girl. now let me put my baby in you.”

he bent you back over the counter and started fucking into you again at a fast and brutal pace. his grunts turned into soft pants and his hips began to stutter.

“gonna cum.” he announced with a breathy whine before he spilled inside of you, ropes of his thick seed coating your walls. after he finished he pulled out of you and watched as both your and his cum dripped from your hole and onto the floor beneath you. he sucked in a breath at the sight before leaving a light smack on your ass. your brain was still fuzzy from your orgasm so all you could do was hum in satisfaction. joon rubbed your back as you came to your senses whispering praises into your ears about how good you did and how good you were for him.

“you are so nasty.” you softly chastised him when you’d finally gained enough strength to stand on your shaky legs.

“fucked you up didn’t i?” he asked wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his chest. he rubbed your back some more to calm your trembling body.

“you better keep your promise.” you said to him. he placed a kiss on top of your now scarf-less head. you’d lost it during your…activities. “oh i will, starting with you. let me run you a bath, okay?”

once you were out of the bath and in new clothes, joon in fact did keep his promise. he cleaned up the rest of the apartment while you sat in bed and relaxed. what a sweet boy. he came to join you in bed a little bit later, wrapping his arms around you to cuddle. you relaxed into him, feeling your eyelids getting heavy with sleep.

“you know, maybe cleaning day isn’t that bad.” namjoon said to himself when he heard your light snores fill your bedroom.

[omg-imatotalmess]

Better Than Your Pillow

Hey guys! There was an anon that asked for a little more sub!neville as a cure for their blues, and I couldn’t resist. Sub!neville is chicken soup for the soul. Hope y’all enjoy!

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Reader

Requested: Ye

Anonymous Requested: i need more sub neville. i’m so sad

Warnings: Pillow humping, mild voyeurism, fingering, dirty talk, mild praise kink, sub!neville, dom!reader, swearing

                                                             ---

If you hadn’t seen it with your own eyes, you wouldn’t have believed it. Neville. Your sweet, shy, ever awkward Neville curled over his pillow, humping it with the desperation of a dog in heat. All while spilling the filthiest fantasies into the open air. Every one of them revolving around you. In your shock, all you could do was take it in. And you couldn’t say you minded. He was really putting on a good show.

“(Y/N)! Fuck, I’ll be your good boy!” he cried, fisting his sheets like they were the only things keeping him steady.

“I’ll be so good! Use me however you want. Please, I want you to!” he babbled. His hips shifted faster, maybe imagining your reply. You certainly knew what it would be.

You took a step further into the room, closing the door quietly so as not to disturb the scene in front of you. It was everything you’d ever hoped for—the amalgamation of every wet dream you’d ever had wrapped up in a pretty bow. Well, in an argyle sweater vest, actually. Leaning against the bedpost, you let his sheer want wash over you. It was heavy and searing but more perfect than you ever could have imagined. And from there, you could see his face. The way his mouth gaped open, chest heaving with every sound out of him and his eyes screwed shut against the onslaught of pleasure your phantom self was giving him. It made you wonder what he’d look like if he got the real thing. You couldn’t believe Neville hadn’t noticed you yet. Then again, he was too busy talking to hear your own labored breaths.

“Do anything you want to me! Please, I’m yours. Your little slut to play with! Tie me up and play with me until you’re satisfied!” he begged.

“If that’s what you want.” The words slipped out of your mouth completely unbidden.

“(Y/N)?!” he squeaked.

“You were late to our study session,” you said.

“I-I’m so sorry. Merlin, I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life. Let me just p-put my trousers on an-and I’ll be there in a minute,” he rambled, scrambling into a sitting position with the pillow doing very little to conceal his flushed, dripping cock.

“Don’t stop on my account,” you said, a smile curling at the corner of your mouth, “It looked like you were just getting to the good bit.”

“Please don’t tease me,” he moaned, covering his face with his hands.

“Who’s teasing?” you asked, feeling a smile curling at the corner of your mouth.

“Why can’t the castle just swallow me whole and put me out of my misery?” he said miserably. It was like he hadn’t heard you.

“Who’s teasing, Nev? I’m interested,” you said.

“I-Interested?” he sputtered, head shooting up.

“Mm-hmm, I’d love to help you out. If you want me to, that is. If not, I’ll leave, and we’ll pretend this never happened,” you offered.

Blinking at you with big, slightly unsure eyes, Neville let his pillow slip off his lap. He wanted to. You could tell that much. The way his eyes trailed up and down your body was leaving you a little hot under the collar. Smiling, you waited for him to answer. It was his decision, and who were you to rush him? Taking in a shaky breath, he reached for you, pulling you gently onto the bed while trying not to look you in the eyes.

“Please?” he whispered.

“Please what?” you asked despite the knowing glint in your eye.

“Please, touch me,” he muttered shyly.

“Like this?” you asked, drawing patterns over his plush thigh with your fingertips, just barely brushing his cock each time. It jumped with each gentle attention.

“(Y/N),” he whined. You gave him a wolfish grin.

“I guess I did say I wasn’t teasing,” you said. “Undress me.”

“A-Are you sure?” Despite the question, he was already working the buttons of your shirt with shaking hands, popping them open one by one.

“Hurry up. I don’t like to be kept waiting,” you ordered.

“A-Alright. Anything you want,” he breathed, yanking your shirt the rest of the way open and pushing it off your shoulders before making quick work of your pants. Each item was laid carefully beside the bed as soon as it left you. Before long, you were bare in front of him as his eyes roamed your body. It was like you’d showed him Eden. He couldn’t figure out where to look first. You smiled, pulling him toward you by his sweater vest. God, you were glad he’d kept it on.

“Good boy,” you purred, “Now, I want you to finger me open until I’m nice and ready to take that pretty cock of yours.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, reaching blindly for the bottle of lube he’d tossed on the edge of the bed when he started.

Slicking up his fingers, he stroked over you a few times just to excite you a little more. Also likely just to touch you like that. You let him. Bringing your hands to your own chest, you pinched and tugged at your nipples lightly. Partly to add to the sensation of Neville’s fingers stroking your sex and partly to put on a show. He watched your fingers dancing over your chest for a moment before bringing his eyes to yours.

“Can I-Can I suck them?”

“Kiss me first,” you said. As his lips touched your own, he pressed a finger into you gently. Groaning, you arched your back and bit down on his lip. When he let out a thin whine, you laved your tongue over the spot. The two of you stayed like that for a bit, his finger moving in you, kissing you as though the world was burning down around you. Then you pulled back. Dragging in a deep breath, you fisted his hair.

“Go on. Use your mouth.” He didn’t need to be told twice. Licking and sucking at your nipples as he added fingers. His tongue flickered over one hardened bud, pressing his fingers into you all the more eagerly.  For a while, you simply lost yourself to the sensation.

“(Y/N),” he whined, grinding his dripping cock against your leg.

“Be a good little slut and beg for it,” you said.

“Please, please, I’ll do anything you want! I’ll be such a good boy for you. I will. So good. Please, (Y/N), let me put it in. Can I put it in?” he plead, practically humping your leg like he’d been humping his pillow earlier.

“You really want it?” you teased.

“Yes! So much! I’ll be such a good boy,” he promised.

“Fuck me.” Your voice was low and sharp—an order. One that he couldn’t have resisted even if he wanted to. He pressed into you slowly, watching you to make sure you were enjoying yourself. Each inch was a little more heaven than the last. Growling, you tugged his hair and bucked your hips down impatiently.

“I-I’m trying to be gentle,” he whimpered, shaking in your grip.

“Who the fuck asked for gentle?” you snarled, yanking his hair savagely. “I said fuck me, Neville!”

“Ooooooh!” A long howl burst from his mouth as he thrust into you recklessly, which you silenced with your mouth. Swallowing down his pathetic, little sounds of please and trading them for yours. His hips pounded against yours, encouraged by your heels digging into the small of his back. At this point, you couldn’t tell if he was chasing his pleasure or yours. You didn't care. It was all the same.

“Fuck, there! Good boy, right there!” you groaned.

“Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you...” his thanks became a chant into the crook of your neck. He only interrupted it to sink his teeth into it every now and then.

“Harder!” Obedient as you expected, he fucked into you hard enough to scoot the two of you up the bed. The sound of the headboard slamming against the wall was just background noise to you. Neville’s drawn-out, sobbing moans were far more interesting.

“Close,” he breathed.

“Don’t you dare cum before I do,” you hissed in his ear.

“Please, please, (Y/N). So close,” he begged. His hips had completely lost any semblance of rhythm. They just pistoned away unevenly, somehow managing to hit exactly where you wanted it most.

“C’mon, a little more. Almost...!” Your words trailed off into a long, high moan as your orgasm washed over you. For a moment, the world whited out. All you could feel was Neville driving himself into you like a man unhinged and wave after wave of pleasure. When you finally came back to earth, Neville was hammering into you, sobbing incoherent pleas into your shoulder.

“Can I cum? Please?” he sobbed.

“Cum for me,” you said. And he was gone. His teeth sunk into your shoulder, but it did nothing to stifle his shout of pleasure. You could feel his hands leaving bruises on your hips, but you didn’t mind. Not as he shook on top of you, pumping his cock in you a few final times before collapsing on top of you. Smiling, you pressed a kiss to his sweaty hair.

“Better than you pillow?” you giggled after a moment of catching your breath.

“I’m never going to live this down,” he muttered, keeping his face buried in your neck.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ve never cum so hard in my life,” you said. Pulling back, he looked down at you with a good measure of surprise on his face.

“R-Really? I was good?” he stuttered in disbelief.

“So fucking good. Jesus Christ, Nev, I almost blacked out,” you said. He made a pinched-off sound, dipping his face out of your eyesight. After another moment of silence, he spoke up.

“Thank you,” he said.

“No problem. If you ever wanna do that again, come find me,” you said, carding your fingers gently through his hair.

“Can I take you on a d-date first?” he asked shyly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that, but how about a nap first,” you said. Nodding, he curled up against your side and dropped off almost immediately. You, however, laid awake for a bit. That was so much better than studying. And definitely better than his pillow.

[buckyownsmylife]

Closed Signal - Tom Hardy smut

The one where Tom fears he might be getting too old for you

Warnings: smut, implied age gap, implied size kink, inappropriate drunk friend, insecure!Tom, dirty talk, daddy kink, exhibitionism kink, mention of overstimulation, name-calling, jealousy, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: this idea came from a request and I took advantage of the plot bunny to make it as some sort of follow-up to this story. Can totally be read by itself though - as most of my stuff 🤔

The party was going in full swing by the time Tom arrived. He’d been working like crazy lately, doing pre-production work for his next movie, which was one he was quite excited about.

It was completely different from anything he’d ever done before, and while that in itself presented a risk, my boyfriend was precisely the type to thrive in that anxiety. He just put a lot of himself in the process, and it’d been getting more and more difficult to see him outside of breakfast or bed time, so I was really excited when he agreed to meet me here.

“There you are, baby.” I smiled widely as his familiar mob of hair - now slightly grown for the role - appeared in the distance, briefly distracted from the conversation I’d been entertaining with my friend Chris. “I missed you.”

I stood up on my tiptoes to kiss him when he was close enough, rubbing my cheek against his bearded one. He was also letting it grow for the role, and I didn’t tell him, but the spots of white hair were disturbingly arousing to me, as if it reminded me of the age gap in our relationship, the almost taboo nature of it.

“Hey man, how have you been?” Chris nodded towards Tom, slapping his bicep as he approached to say hello. My boyfriend pointed at the beer in our hands, confirming, “Are you drinking beer?” to which I sheepishly waved the empty bottle I was holding.

“I finished mine, I was about to go and get another.” But Tom, ever the gentleman, was already shaking his head.

“Stay here, I’ll grab us both new ones.” My eyes trailed after him as he left, taking in the expanse of his back, how it signaled how much larger than my body his was. It still brought a shiver down my spine, a year after we’d started dating.

It was silent for a while as I couldn’t remember what it was that I’d been chatting with Chris until he was the one who broke the silence. “I’ll never understand how the hell Tom  managed to get with you.”

The sentence was so out of place it took me a while to figure out how the hell to respond to it, and in that silence, drunk and inappropriate Chris prospered.

“Is it a kinky thing?” I was once again taken by surprise, mouth hanging open as I stared at my friend without believing what was coming out of his. “Do you get off on being his little girl or something?”

My face felt warm as he finally shut his mouth, but I didn’t know if it was from embarrassment or pure, unadulterated anger. “Why the fuck do you think that it’s appropriate to talk to me like that, Chris?”

My tone and words shocked him, the widened eyes said as much. “Oh, sorry.” He gulped and shifted from one foot to another, and still he couldn’t help but insist, “I just… Isn’t he a bit too old for you?”

I narrowed my eyes at him with my blood pumping inside my veins, particularly because I could see Tom had frozen in his tracks right behind the man that had angered me, clearly having heard what was said and also clearly taken back by it.

“Chris, he’s not even five years older than you.” The way is eyebrows shot up wasn’t comforting to me in the slightest.

“Oh, shit! Really? The white beard threw me off completely.”

The night was pretty much over for the both of us after this. I knew Tom was stuck on Chris’s words and I also knew I wouldn’t be able to talk him out of it. I’d have to wait until he decided to speak his mind to me.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long. As we prepared for bed that evening, he approached me with cautious steps as I braced myself for what was coming, but I was pleasantly surprised by the tone of jest he assumed to complain, “My bones ache.”

I stared at his childish pout for a long time, not quite believing this is how he was going to go on about this until finally laughter escaped my chest. “And still, you fuck me just right,” I teased him, making him scoff as he averted his gaze, but I knew I’d played this to his ego.

A small silence followed my response, a pause in which I watched him gather his thoughts before he met my eyes to question, “Don’t you think I’m too old for you?” Opening up a slow smile, I opened my arms to welcome him into my embrace as I retorted, “I obviously don’t.”

Still, he sighed, rubbing his full beard against my neck as he listened to my heartbeat, so I proceeded, “And I also think our age gap is sexy.” That got his attention. He licked his lips as he sat up slightly, hovering over my lying body as he took in the shirt of his I was wearing to bed - and nothing else.

“Oh, is that so?”

Biting my lip to stop my smirk from growing, I nodded before voicing, “Yes… daddy.”

The way his eyes darkened was undeniable and it fed this hunger inside of me that I wasn’t expecting to feel. Suddenly, I was up on my knees, pushing him back against the bed as I took my place over his lap.

“Would you like to fuck me in front of Chris, baby?” His hands on my naked hips tightened to the point of bruising. I relished in it. “Make him see how well you give it to me?”

The fact that he wasn’t wearing any underwear under his sweatpants definitely helped me when I slid them down just enough to grab a hold of his dick. “Make him watch as you fucked me senseless, make me cry for you to stop while you kept fucking me until I pass out?”

“He could never get me this wet.” He felt what I meant the second I started to slowly sit down on his dick, biting my lower lip to stop myself from screaming at the pleasurable stretch. “All you have to do is stare at me and I’m ready for your cock, daddy.”

He pulled me by the back of my neck to meet his lips, panting against mine in something that was less of a kiss and more of a different way to breathe me in. “You’re too fucking hot.” It sounded almost like a complaint. It made me laugh.

“C’mon, daddy,” I whined in my best bratty voice, the one that called out to Tom like a flame did to a moth. “Take it out on me. Use me.” This time he did kiss me - and it was wild and forceful, like the way he started thrusting up against me just before he threw me on the bed to take his place on top of my body.

“You’re my perfect little slut, huh?” He nuzzled the crook of my neck, breathing me in as I wiped away the taste of him from my lips. I was obsessed with it, just like I was obsessed with every part of him. “So you don’t think about him when I’m fucking you?”

The question was paired with a forceful thrust that ended with the head of his cock rubbing precisely against my sweet spot, making me mewl underneath him. “Answer me, darling.”

His hand covered my throat, easily catching my attention. I answered honestly. “I don’t think about him at all, daddy.” He seemed to like it, judging by the way he immediately started fucking me against the bed, forcing me to hold onto his shoulders as I screamed in pleasure.

“Good answer, sweetheart,” he chuckled, mouth exploring every inch of skin he could reach. “You take me so well, baby,” he complimented, knowing how it always got to me. “I bet Chris gets off thinking about doing this to you, fucking you like I’m doing right now. But he never will, huh?”

I was quick to shake my head, incapable of voicing a simple ‘no’ with how drunk on his cock I felt. “That’s my girl.” The thought of being his had been such a distant dream for so long that just those words were enough to set me off, leading me to an orgasm that milked his too.

As he emptied himself inside of me, he softly fell over my body, smashing me against the mattress. “Tommy…” I whined, trying to push him away, much to his amusement. “’Can’t breathe.”

He was still laughing when he rolled onto his back, pulling me with him so I’d lay my head on his chest. It was quiet and peaceful for a while, my breathing slowly getting deeper and deeper as I listened to his heartbeat right by my ear until…

“Don’t fall asleep on me, baby.” His voice was quiet as he brushed my hair away from my face, trying to get a clear view of my expression before he continued, “I still have enough stamina to fuck you through the night.”

All I could do was snort, hiding my face against his skin before I teased him, “Good, because I desperately want your cock in my mouth.”

[cthulhuliet]

Hi hi ~~ big fan of your Lawlight work * chef kiss * So, if it serves to inspire you I got this little idea! NSFW A huge hc of mine is that Light loves L reading for him with that hot British accent of his, like come on, L`s dubbed voice with a brit accent??*agressive chef kiss* SOO imagine Light resting his head on L`s lap while L is reading to him and things get lewd in the novel :D maybe things coul get lewd in reality too 👀👀 oh, and another hc of mine is that Light rides D like a pro so ... maybe something with both? if you'd like 👉👈 No pressure at all tho!

Thank you so much for your kind words :') I am a fan of your Lawlight work as well, and even though it took a two weeks or so (my bad) I really hope you enjoy! (it also, as always, turned out to be a lot longer than I meant it).

close your eyes and imagine it

3.1k words | AO3 Link | warnings: explicit content, general kink, you know the drill

Most of the dreams were incomprehensible nonsense, and L had just about given up on the month of April when he saw a long entry that made him pause. His eyes widened at the contents. “Huh.”

Light shifted a little bit to make himself more comfortable, eyes only half open, “Hmm? Find something interesting?”

“I am in this one. Did you frequently dream about me?”

There was a beat, and Light responded coolly, “I cannot remember specifics. Hence, the journal.”

L hummed, a small smirk Light could not see grew on his face, “Well then, I will read this one out loud for your benefit.

OR

The one where Light discovers a dream journal he had written during the Kira investigation and can't help but be embarrassed by L's role in his fantasies. L, of course, does not mind. -

“A dream journal?” L questioned. He closed his laptop and Light smirked, raising an eyebrow, holding the notebook in his hands. L crossed the room and took the journal from Light, “Where did you find this?”

Light shrugged, “On my bookshelf with a lot of my other textbooks and such.”

“How old is this?”

“Was in my late teens, I suspect.”

L flipped through the book idly, Light’s neat handwriting was pleasant and clean compared to L’s own scrawled and messy penmanship. The pages slightly stuck together, as the old notebook seemed to have not been touched in years. L stopped at a page and briefly read the contents and looked at the date, before his own eyes widened.

“Hang on, this is during-”

“The Kira investigation? Yeah.” Light’s slight smirk turned into a large cheshire. “I figured you might be interested in reading what I wrote.”

L bit his bottom lip, looking up at Light, one eyebrow raised, “Does the Death Note still give you nightmares to this day?”

Shrugging, Light came up to L and looked over his shoulder at the notebook, “I mean, sometimes? But I also believe that having nightmares is just a part of being a person.”

“Or you have become so numb to your own murderous tendencies the nightmares do not affect you that much anymore.” L muttered, just loud enough for Light to hear.

He did hear him, of course, and he retaliated by shoving L hard enough for him to fall backwards onto their bed. Light socked L on the arm when he flopped down onto his back as well as L went to read Light’s journal to himself.

“Leave me alone, Light, can’t you see I am busy?” L teased, which earned him another hit on his arm, “You are being bothersome.”

Light crossed his arms, now sitting next to L laying down on the bed, “Those are my dreams, you are not reading without me, obviously.”

“Well then lie down so I can read them to you.” Light was the most frustrating man that L had ever been with. He wouldn’t have him any other way.

L sat up and rested his back against the headboard. Light assumed his usual position and rested his head on L’s lap. L idly put his hands through Light soft brown locks, twirling his soft hair through his fingers.

This was not an unusual position to find the pair in. Light often requests that L read to him, the other man finding the restrained but smooth baritone of L’s voice to be incredibly attractive, but also incredibly calming to listen to. It is not the first time his voice has been complimented, and it certainly will not be the last. Sayu has told L multiple times that he should become a voice over actor. He politely declined. The rest of the people do not matter, really. The only praise he needs is when Light humbly hands him a book he reads before bed, and falls asleep to L’s voice quicker than any amount reading on his own.

“‘ April 1st, 2004: I was present for class at To-Oh university, however we were all forced to give a presentation about when we believe all of our classmates will die and why. This was a horribly dark and drab lecture hall, and I had forgotten my cue cards about why Sakurano Mari was going to die due to dementia .’  This is not exactly a fun read.”

“It was not exactly fun to think about either.”

“I am going to find a different one.”

L used one hand to run his fingers through Light’s hair and the other to flip through the journal, skimming through the contents. Most of the recounts were incomprehensible nonsense, though there is no judgement to be had there. Whenever L does sleep, most of his dreams are disconnected fragments of stories -- feelings and emotions rather than a complete narrative.

L had just about given up on the month of April when he saw a long entry that made him pause. His eyes widened at the contents.

“Huh.”

Light shifted a little bit to make himself more comfortable, eyes only half open, “Hmm? Find something interesting?”

“I am in this one.”

“Are you?”

“Did you frequently dream about me?”

There was a beat, and Light responded coolly, “I cannot remember specifics. Hence, the journal.”

L hummed, a small smirk Light could not see grew on his face, “Well then, I will read this one out loud for your benefit:

“‘ Damn that Ryuzaki. He is plaguing my thoughts not only during the day, but I cannot even escape the damn bastard in my dreams’, I love you too, dearest ,” L sardonically snided. Light pinched his thigh , “ ‘Last night's events were particularly egregious, as this is not the first time something like this has happened, but I feel mortified even writing this down. Though, maybe if I recount what happened (like with the nightmares) these dreams will go down in their numbers.

“‘Ryuzaki and myself were in the library studying next to one another. I was eating a biscotti with tea. As it was in my mouth, Ryuzaki came up and bit off the end of my biscotti and just chuckled at me. I wasn’t sure what to do or say, but I just know I felt really hot an -’”

“L…” Light gripped his thigh dangerously, “What are you doing.” It was phrased as a question, but Light said it as a command. He ignored him. Light was never the one to give out commands anyway.

“‘ I cannot remember much but the next moment Ryuzaki’s lips were on my neck. Everything was fuzzy, but I could feel him biting marks into me and was teasing me by grinding against my di- ’”

Light growled, “I’m taking this away from you. Now.” He moved to sit up, but L’s hand was still in his hair. L gripped his roots harshly and shoved him back down. Light whined at the action, swallowing hard.

“You are not going anywhere.” That was a command, and Light took it as such.

“This is mortifying…” Light muttered against the mattress, his speech breathy.

L hummed and pulled Light’s hair up, forcing him to look at him, “I disagree.” He lied. “You are going to be good and listen to me read this whole thing.”

Light laughed, cocky, though his eyes were glassy with flushed cheeks, “Oh yeah? Or what?”

“Or how about I get to come and you don’t, hmm?” Light opened his mouth and closed it again, face flushed with shame. L let go of his hair and Light buried his head in L’s lap. L smirked and chuckled, “You are so adorable, all blushy and embarrassed…” Light whined at that, running his fingernail down the inside of L’s thigh.

“‘ This is not the first time this has happened, though I have to admit, it was the best incident. Even hazy, I had never felt that sensitive and stimulated. I just wanted to stay like that forever.’” L had one hand on the book, the other held a distracted, but firm, grip in Light’s hair, who was presently biting his lip and running soft strokes over L’s cock. “‘It was even better when I got to put my mouth on Ryuzaki. I have never sucked a dick before, so my brain could only supply what it imagines it feels like, but it was not even that that made it so good. Ryuzaki would hold my hair tight and look down at me while I was on my knees. He kept telling me that I was a slut, but that I was doing such a good job for him. Even before this I thought Ryuzaki had such a nice voice, I wish I could hear him more…’ You think my voice is nice, huh?” L asked, keeping his voice level, as Light’s feather touches became firm palming.

He groaned again, “Tch, shut up.”

“No.” L pulled him by his hair, forcing Light to look him in the eye, “I think it is time you shut up.” In only a few seconds, L manhandled Light and dropped him to his knees on the floor at the edge of the bed. L sat at the end, grabbing the journal with one hand and undoing his jeans with the other. “How many times have you sucked dick since writing this? Hundreds?” Light finished the job of removing L’s pants and underwear, his cock standing erect in front of him, “C’mon cock-slut, show me what you got.”

Light eagerly took L in his mouth, expertly utilizing his tongue on his head. L closed his eyes and tried to not become overwhelmed by the sensation. He opened his eyes to see Light’s cocky doe-eyes staring back up at him.

“What was it that you dreamed of? My hand tight in your hair, fucking your mouth, telling you you’re being a good slut, right?” L asked, rhetorically as he returned his hand to harshly grip Light’s locks. He slowly moved Light’s head up and down, spit dribbled out of the corners of his mouth. Light’s face was blood red with humiliation and lust, it was perfect.

L bit his lip as Light took him all the way down his throat, refusing to be the one to break first. He picked up the journal again, eyes focusing and unfocusing on the work in front of him. “‘ Ryuzaki kept calling me good boy, telling me I was taking him so well, and never had anyone ever made him feel as good as I was. I felt so overwhelmed. I had never felt such extreme desire for anyone, but I think at that moment I would do anything for him.’ Do you still want to hear all that? Still want me to call you a good boy, and tell you you are taking me so well?”

Light groaned around L’s cock, the vibrations from his throat sent a shiver up his spine and L suppressed a needy whine on his end. After years of doing this, Light knows exactly how to push him to the very edge-- to give him so much and yet not enough.

“‘ My memory gets a little fuzzy here, but Ryuzaki laid down on the desk, and he grabbed me by the thighs so hard I think I would have had bruises in reality. I grabbed him by the throat and rode him on the desk. A part of me was worried, because the conference room in the library was all glass, but also my head was so hazy and it felt so good.’” L pressed a thumb against his lips, “Had Light fucked himself on toys at this point?”

He pulled off of L, slowly stroking him as he thought about it, “I think at that time I had. I only realized I was not straight shortly after high school, and my sexual drive moved pretty fast after that.”

“‘Shortly after high school’, shortly after meeting me, right?” L smirked. Light opened his mouth to attempt a retort, but just narrowed his eyes.

“Such an egomaniac you are,” Light scoffed, “Not everything is about you.”

“No, not everything. But this is.” L reached under their bed and pulled out a box of toys and lube. He casually tossed the bottle and a large blue dildo in front of Light, “Stretch yourself open with that. I want to see you.”

“You don’t want to do it yourself?”

“Like you have earned that privilege yet.” L leaned forward (careful to not fall off the edge) and grabbed Light by the chin, forcing him to look L in the eye, “You’re going to open yourself up on that cock, and when your slutty hole is ready for me, you can ride me like in your fantasies.”

He could almost see the blood rushing to Light’s ears-- being literally talked down to-- condescended and scolded like a child. And yet, his pupils were blown all the way out, L barely seeing the amber color of Light’s eyes, and his jeans and underwear were, of course, already halfway to his ankles.

Light took the tip of the toy and fucked his mouth in and out with it, eyes never leaving L’s. He was already 3 fingers deep inside of himself, lewdly moaning around the cock very intentionally.

“This is a good look for you,” L remarked, breathily, slowly stroking his own cock.

Light suctioned the dick to the hardwood, and hovered over it, teasing his hole with the tip, “Well, if you are going to keep calling me a slut- fuck… I might as well lean into it.” Light bottomed out on the toy, one hand running through his hair, another sucking on two fingers as he slowly moved. Light, flushed and fucked out and using himself, was the pinnacle of sex and desire-- L began to question his decision about who exactly this was a punishment for.

“Ngh, this cock is so big , L… But it doesn’t feel nearly as good as yours.” Light dragged his teeth across the bottom of his lip, pointed looking at L’s cock, now leaking precum. Light knew he was getting to L. He knew exactly how he looked and exactly what L was thinking.

Fucker. Two can play at that.

L slowed down his own movements, raising an eyebrow at Light, “A common whore like yourself would be satisfied with any cock inside of him. You want mine so bad? Close your eyes, think…” L held the book open with one hand, “‘ I feel like I am going crazy. I am supposed to want this stupid bastard dead. And yet all I want right now are my hands on him and his on mine-’” Light groaned, finally touching his neglected aching cock, “‘-and it is so hard to focus on bringing him down, when the entire time I am dreaming about Ryuzaki’s voice in my ear, and my hands around his throat, and his tongue and mouth on me everywhere . I may just have to take care of him so I stop feeling this way... ’ My my, Kira... ” Light groaned at the name, “I thought you would be a bit more careful than to let your inner thoughts so out in the open like this. What would have happened if someone had gotten a hold of this?”

“I- Fuck- Academic rivalries are not uncommon....”

“I wanted to sentence you to death and you still could not stop thinking about me inside of you-”

“Oh shit L…”

“-or my hands on your cock or my fingers stretching you wide open. You still want me to whisper in your ear and moan , telling you what a good boy you are, right?”

“Yes… yes I want that L…”

L tutted, “And yet you aren’t a good boy. Desperate and begging… Writing down naughty thoughts and fantasies about someone who you wanted to die?” L shook his head, casually tossing the book aside. He reached for his own cock again, slowly stroking it watching Light fall apart, giving himself dual sensations, “Kira needs to make up his mind about what he wants. Because I don’t think he is good at all.”

“ L please…”

“Please, what?”

“Please let me on your cock.”

“Why would I allow that?”

Light stopped his movements on the dildo, only slowly stroking his cock at the same speed as L was his own, “I am not a good boy, I am a cock-slut for you, and only ever you. Fuck me please,” Light begged, broken and desperate.

L stood up and grabbed Light’s hands, pulling him off of the toy. He brushed the hair out of Light’s eyes and pulled Light on top of him, “So good, Kira. You don’t have to be a good boy for me, you can just be my good slut.”

He kissed L, hard, biting his bottom lip as he lined himself up on L’s dick and sunk down on him.

“ Fuck, you feel so much better than that cheap plastic,” Light straddled L properly, pressing his hands against L’s chest as he rode him, not wasting anytime picking up speed.

“Such a good whore for me, Kira,” L said, kissing his wrist, “You really do ride cock like you get paid to do it.”

“I know,” Light said, breathy and fucked.

L huffed, “A bit cocky, aren-”

“Now it’s your turn to shut up,” Light said, pressing down on L’s pressure points, his fingertips pushing hard enough into his throat it will surely leave marks against his pale skin.

L’s eyes rolled in the back of his head and Light moved his hips faster, L snapping back up to meet his thrusts, which quickly became sloppy as black dots began dancing in the corners of his eyes and his lungs started burning. His eyes welled up with tears and his entire body was on fire, his limbs going limp. He felt the white, hot edge so close and tangible. Every thrust felt like a rattle of electricity hitting every nerve and every part of his consciousness so closely and he just needed more -- Light relented, moving his hands away from his throat. L eyes snapped open wide and he coughed, taking heavy breaths. Tears fell from the corners of his eyes, and he dug his fingertips into Light’s waist, harshly grabbing him by the hips.

“L? I’m sorry, you told me you would tap out if-”

“Kira, more-- again-- now.” L commanded, and Light did not hesitate. He grabbed him by the throat and put his fingers in L’s mouth for good measure. Light was riding him with expert pace and precision, his lower body strength and years of running paying off. L’s legs trembled, and he used the last bit of his unfucked mind to dig his nails into Light’s hips and rock him faster and faster on his cock, reaching that beautiful and terrible and intense edge.

“ Ah- L! ” Light comes only a few seconds before L himself, moaning around Light’s fingers as he loosened his grip, but still only letting a fraction of the air healthy for the human brain into his head.

Light did not move himself off of L immediately. He moved his hand away from his throat, but kept small pressure on his neck with one of his thumbs.

“What are you doing?” L muttered. Light said nothing. L opened his eyes, tapping him. “Light?”

Light blinked, looking back, “Sorry, was feeling your pulse.”

“Why?”

“Wanted to make sure I didn’t kill you.”

L smiled softly, “Don’t want me dead anymore?”

“Sometimes. Certainly not like this, it’s too personal.”

“What, killing me while my cock is in your ass is too close for comfort?”

“Something like.” Light smirked and pressed a soft kiss against L’s lips.

After cleaning up, Light told L he wanted to burn the dream journal to prevent further embarrassment.

“Over my dead body.” L said, holding the notebook just out of reach.

Light smirked, “I have no problem arranging that.”

[hellsbedroom]

Arvin Russell // NSFW Alphabet

arvin russell x reader

Masterlist

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Arvin needs a minute to recover, not gonna lie. He rests his forehead to yours and breathes the moment in. He’ll hold your cheek or squeeze your hand and whisper, “that was so good.” Then he always cleans you up with a damp rag and offers to get you a glass of water before laying back down. The afterglow is blissful, with your hand tracing shapes on his chest as he speaks softly and you doze off together.

B = Body part (favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s)

He never really thinks about it, but he supposes he appreciates his hands. They’re strong and lean and can be so harsh to people he wants to hurt. But at the same time they can be so soft with people he loves, especially you. He loves how you don’t mind the calloused pads of his fingers tracing over your skin after a long day at work.

And your legs could knock him flat any day. He loves their shape and how they look under any dress you’re wearing. He especially loves how good your legs feel when they’re draped over his hips when you straddle him. Squeezing your thighs is one of his favorite things in the world.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum basically)

If he can’t cum inside you, Arvin loves to cum on your chest. When you go down on him and let him drench your naked chest in cum he almost loses it. You just look so pretty and in love with him. He’s always good about cleaning it up after, especially if it got on any of your clothes. But even so, a little mess never hurt nobody ;)

D = Dirty secret (an interesting dirty secret of theirs)

He thinks about your lips all the time. Especially sitting in church, when things are supposed to be holy. He’ll dream of the curve of your lower lip or the new lipstick color you wore the day before. Thoughts of messing up that lipstick by making out or your pretty lips wrapped around his length always follow.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s had a little experience with a girl or two when he was in high school. Making out, fondling, he’s not totally new to the idea. But with you is the first time he really explores someone. And he’s a fast learner. It doesn’t take him long to figure out what makes you tick and where he can kiss you to make you moan like that. 

F = Fantasy (what’s their favorite fantasy/roleplay?)

Arvin will indulge in a nurse roleplay sometimes. You saunter in the room in a little white outfit with the red crosses and pretend to take care of him a bit (he answers everything with a smirk and “yes ma’am”) before he’s kissing you everywhere and trying to get the damn dress off. You take care of him so much in real life that a little fantasy play is the perfect way to spice things up.

G = Goofy (are they more serious or goofy in the moment?)

He can be playful with foreplay, anything to make you smile even while you’re just making out or trying to get your clothes off. But as things progress, he gets more serious. He wants to make sure you’re enjoying yourself and is so in awe of you that he sobers up and gets to work when you’re between the sheets.

H = Hair (how groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes?)

He’s not really worried about grooming, but he’ll trim if he knows that’s what you prefer.

I = Intimacy (how are they in the moment, romantic aspect)

A huge romantic. Arvin won’t always set up flowers or candles but he’s so focused on being close to you that everything else fades away. He gives constant praise and keeps his eyes locked on yours when you need it most. His favorite thing is to always be holding your hand if possible, and squeezing when either of you reaches climax. It’s a way to anchor himself to you because the moment is so important.

J = Jackoff (about masturbation)

A guy’s gotta get stress relief somehow. Especially if y’all spend a few days apart. He’ll pull one out in the shower thinking of the last time he saw your figure splayed out beneath him. Sometimes you’ll leave a few racy polaroids for him to find and they become a treasured part of the routine.

K = Kink (any kinks)

Marking you with bite marks or hickies — where no one can see, of course. Slight daddy kink (saying “c’mon daddy” will end him). Pulling his hair makes him grin and now he’s sure to keep those locks long. And of course a praise kink!!! Breathlessly moaning that he feels so good, he’s hitting the right spot, that you love him and he’s doing such a good job. All of it will send him in a tizzy.

L = Location (favorite place to do it)

His car! It gives the two of you the most privacy when you can go park in a clearing far away from everyone else. You’ve figured out just the right way to lay on the seat to make it work and Arvin hovering closely over you is nice anyway. And it gives him a little pride when he’s driving alone and thinks back to all the things you’ve done on those seats.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

A pretty new dress will do it, but what gets him most of all is when you sass him. Getting playful, sarcastically quipping at him, and teasing him with a twinkle in your eye. He cocks his head in surprise but loves it deep down. It makes him mutter “c’mere you” and chase you around, which always ends hot and heavy.

N = NO (something they won’t do, turn offs)

Hitting your face. It’s too degrading and he couldn’t bear it if he hurt you. 

O = Oral (giving and receiving)

Arvin is so eager to please, he wants to do right by you and one of the best ways he’s found is by fervently going down on you. Hearing the sounds you make and feeling you quiver around him sends him over the moon.

But you on your knees for him is a real pretty sight, too. You can make any bad day fade away with the things you do to him. He’ll never admit it, but he loves when you tease him, keeping him on the edge and driving him wild.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

If either of you have had a hard day, or you’re barely hidden in his car like giddy teenagers, he’ll be quicker and rougher. You’re breathing fast, his chest has a sheen of sweat, and his teeth glint in the darkness as he grins and takes you like there’s no tomorrow. Otherwise he’s on the slower side, taking his time to do it right. Burying himself in every inch of your form is important and you’re one of the most precious things in his life so he doesn’t like to be harsh. 

Q = Quickie (opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He has no real need for quickies; if he wants to fuck then he’s gonna do it properly and not let anyone rush him along. Especially if you’ve found a good secluded spot in the woods. Rushing it doesn’t allow him to fully appreciate you and your body anyway. On occasion it’ll happen if he has to head out to a work site for a few days and you can’t resist having him one more time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment?)

He’s not too keen on being risky other than maybe being caught out in the woods. He likes stability when he finds it. You’re the one who has to shyly bring up new ideas in the bedroom and he might be a little hesitant, but he’s willing to try anything once. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

Early in the relationship Arvin busts quickly, he can’t help it. But now he can last decently long, especially because he follows the cardinal rule of getting you off first. And for stamina? The man is like an ox. As long as he has a bit of a breather between each round he can go for as long as you want.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them on a partner or themselves?)

You won’t find a lot of sex toys in 1960s small town America. Mostly he likes knowing he can get you off by himself anyway. But if you visit a big city and come back with a vibrator to play around with, he wouldn’t be opposed.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Usually Arvin gets right down to business, but he can get in moods where he’s a real tease. In public he’ll stick to pinching or swatting your ass when he’s in that mood. When you’re alone he’ll taunt, “you like that, pretty girl?” when he can tell you’re really enjoying yourself. Hearing you beg for him when he’s endlessly teasing makes his eyes blow wide and he can’t help but give in to you. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

Surprisingly, he’s not quiet. He’s no screamer but you will definitely hear that he’s having a good time. He’ll groan deep in his chest when you nip at his neck or when he’s sinking into you, and he’ll gasp your name near the finish. And he’s always talking to you in between, murmuring how good it feels.

W = Wildcard (random headcanon)

When he’s drunk: Arvin finds everything funny when he’s drunk. He chuckles at anything you do and will even take your hand and make you spin for him just so he can admire you. He leans on you more, burying his face in the crook of your neck even if you’re with friends and family. You’re always so happy to see him let loose and relax for a bit.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s in those pants)

He’s an average length and fairly girthy. Fills you up well. There’s also a curve to it that does wonders for you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Moderate. He can sometimes be really eager to get his hands on you, especially if you spend the weekend apart or something like that. Or he’ll sneak into your room late after you’ve gone on a date just to taste you again. But some days he just enjoys being around you with no pressure to perform in any way. 

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It varies. Sometimes Arvin will be out like a light as soon as he knows you’re satisfied and cleaned up. Other times he lays awake worrying for your safety or a dozen other things, and those nights you’re there to hold him and whisper the anxieties away with sweet nothings.

[taones]

𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 // 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝𝐚

Pairing: takeda x gender neutral!reader (afab)

Notes: I simp for this man so hard and hes like legit on 3 days of kinktober sjdjjdjd day 2 of kinktober I had so much fun writing this even if its pretty short!

Warnings: Dom!Reader, sub!takeda, some biting, reader calls him slutty like once, minor dumbification, lowkey subspace, hair pulling, reader calls him kitten cause I think its CUTE, praise kink

The soft silk of the sheets cooled the scorching skin on your back slightly. Takeda was sitting at the desk at the end of your shared bedroom, head buried in a pile or poorly written essays. Furrowed brows and repetitive sighs alerted you to just how frustrated your partner was getting. After the 7th sigh in a row you grunted and pulled yourself off the bed, slinking towards his hunched over figure. Your hands moved towards his tense shoulders and began to massage the knots away, making him groan in relief. 

“You know it’s the holidays right?” you questioned, pressing a kiss against his hair “you have a week off come lay with me”

Sighing once again, he turned his eyes towards you and you could see the bags underneath them, giving you a matching frown. It was obvious he hadn’t been sleeping well and you were beginning to worry about him. Not to mention the fact that you barely spent any time together, didn’t cuddle, didn’t go out, didn’t fuck. It was taking its toll on both of you. What you did know is that your partner always slept better after a good fuck.

“I’m just stressed y/n” he muttered, pulling you to sit on his lap.

Despite him doing the action, a soft red blush swam onto his cheeks causing you to giggle. No matter how long you dated, he would always be easily flustered by you and you loved it. Swinging your hips round to straddle the blushing man, you moved a hand up to cup his face. The soft rotation of your hips against his made his blush grow more and he tilted his head back slightly. 

“Ittetsu you’re working yourself to the bone” you hummed “I can make you feel better’

Whimpering, he rolled his hips up into yours. The damp patch growing on your underwear made you groan and you decided to stop fucing around with him...for now. Standing from the quivering man's lap, you peered at him and smirked. The blue fabric of his work trousers did nothing to hide the obvious bulge he was sporting. 

“C’mon Ittetsu,” you cooed, “can you take your strip for me baby?”

The desperation in the man made you giggle slightly. It was nice knowing you had that effect on him so easily. Once he was standing in just his work shirt and boxers, you slid over to him. Kisses with Takeda were usually soft and sweet, with just a hint of lingering nerves. This time tough, it was desperate and messy, to the point that his arousal was seeping through the kiss. As you began to move your lips down his jaw, your fingers reached up and began to unbutton his shirt. This left his chest and collar bones wide open for marks that his colleagues wouldn’t see. Not that Ittetsu minded people seeing, he liked people to know he was yours and liked the reminder himself. Of course, that is something he would never admit. A moan was ripped out of him when you sunk your teeth into the junction of his neck and shoulder, it caused his hips to buck in desperation. 

“Okay baby, sit back at your desk” 

The confusion and pleading eyes that fell over his face almost made you give in but you wanted to mess with him a little longer. A tutting sound escaped your mouth and you grabbed the hair at the nape of his neck, dragging him to your eye level. The melodic whines of the man filled the room and you shivered.

“I won’t say it twice Ittetsu” you growled, “bed, now.”

The tangle of long limbs as he scrambled to the chair made you hum in content. So well behaved. I guess that’s what you get when you teach all day, you learn to appreciate obedience, even if it’s you being told what to do. And boy was Takeda good at being obedient.

“Good boy” you purred.

The praise and hand running through his hair made him gasp and lock eyes with you. You could see the desperation beginning to seep into the pretty hazel of his eyes. It was a favourite expression of yours on him, only second to the glazed over, tongue out look he wore when you properly ruined him.

He had been a good boy. You decided to give him a treat and began to strip out of your nightwear. The way his thighs pressed together sent a rush of confidence through you and you decided to toy with your nipple just to hear the way his breath hitched at the sight. Eventually he let out a high pitched whine and you took mercy.

“Please y/n” he whispered, trying his best not to grind down on the rough fabric beneath him

You giggled and pulled your underwear off. The slick must have been obvious on your thighs because your partner's eyes started to get that glazed over look and became hooded. Slinging over once again, you straddled him like last time and hovered above his lap. Your hand slid down to pull his aching dick out of his boxers, precum sticky on your fingertips.

“Awe look how hard you are for be baby” you teased, leaning down to bite his ear “you must be aching”

A low moan bubbled in his throat but you swallowed it with a kiss, choosing that moment to sink onto him. The moans you both released were simultaneous and you couldn’t help but forget your task and grind onto him a little. It was nice to finally feel full after so long of his work taking up his time. Thin hands moved from gripping to cushion to hold onto your waist but you landed a harsh smack to his thigh, getting a squeak in response.

“No touching kitten” you growled, “pick up the pen and carry on marking”

Despite his situation, he was ever obedient and picked up his pen to continue marking the tests. You adjusted so that you were leaning your back on his chest and could see the work. This way you could punish him when he had a lapse in concentration or reward him when he finished a paper. 

Takeda was trying so hard not to thrust into the wet heat surrounding his dick and it was obvious. His face was the same shade as the pen he was marking with and you giggled when you shifted slightly and he jolted. By the third essay he had begun missing mistakes and you used the opportunity to entertain you. 

“You missed a spelling mistake tetsu” you cooed, “hmm a little touch to your cock and you lose all concentration, how slutty”

The raven haired man trembled beneath you but he knew better than to respond. He was lucky you had let him stay inside you instead of locking his dick away in a cage or using a cockring. The moment he found the mistake he missed, you rolled your hips down on his in reward. Well, you called it a reward but it was more like a punishment for the hypersensitive man beneath you. Heavy pants felt warm against the skin of your neck and you clenched around him. The mewl he let out caused you to chuckle darkly. Turning to grip his chin, you pulled it up to give him a kiss. 

“Such pretty noises baby” you breathed, “one more essay and i’ll let you finish like the desperate little kitten you are”

Eagerness spread over his face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Despite your efforts to distract him, he missed only one mistake. This time you leaned back, turned and bit the lobe of his ear. His head lolled back and you giggled at the hitch in his breath despite him still scribbling on the page in blood red ink. The last word he circled brought relief for both on you. Hazel eyes connected with yours and you had the perfect example of the most captivating face he could pull in your opinion.

His eyes were glazed over, reflecting the fuzzy feeling in his mind, bitten lips were coated in spit and his cheeks were flushing a shade of hot pink. Grinding on him, you turned and pulled him up by his hair to meet you in a kiss. It was messy and desperate, the pleasure had messed with his mind and he was now soft and pliant underneath you. He could barely control his tongue, instead letting you take charge of the kiss and press it against yours in a desperate kiss.

“C’mon kitten, you were amazing, so pretty for me” you rasp against his mouth, already riding him slightly, “let’s go to the bed so I can reward you like you deserve hmm?”

Sub takeda lives in my mind rent free I can’t help it

[thotsforvillainrights]

Ok this idea has been living rent free on my mind just hear me out, how about chubby Kai being insecure so the reader just shows him how beautiful he is, the reader being a soft dom and Kai being a sub.

(Pspsps can the reader have a bodyworship and a praise kinks please)

[Not me coming back after a long hiatus with barely reasonable smut lol. You’ll have to forgive me if this one isn’t as good. I feel like whatever ability I had to write smut just disappeared but I’m hoping I haven’t lost it. I promise I’ll do my best!]

~Adoration~

-Chubby!Kai Chisaki smut-

Adoration- deep love and respect

You sighed while mindlessly watching the show in front of you from your spot on the couch. Your eyes were trained on the TV but your mind was elsewhere. The people on screen slowly shifted into colorful blobs and soon your interest in whatever they were talking about began to drown out as well. It was like your body was there but it wasn’t at the same time. Instead of focusing on the shows, you were wondering what was taking so long in the other room. Usually it was the other way around, but tonight Kai was taking too long to get ready. After a while you began to worry, so reluctantly you stood from the warmth of the couch and trudged down the hallway, careful to not step on your dress end/tux pant leg (or whatever choice of fancy clothing reader chooses to wear). When you finally made it to the room, there he was. Kai was standing in front of the floor mirror while scowling to himself. Your eyes trailed to the myriad of clothes that littered the bed. He noticed your reflection behind him in the mirror and turned to look at you, trying his best to hide his discomfort. “Y/N, I’ll be finished in a moment. Go wait for me in the living room.” He demanded quietly while fumbling to unbutton the shirt he was wearing. You chuckled and pushed some of the clothes on the bed out of the way before taking a seat. “I don’t know if you noticed this or not Mr. Chisaki, but that’s what I’ve been doing for the past hour and a half. You don’t suppose we’ll be able to make it to the event within the next 20 minutes do you?” You teased him but your smile instantly diminished when you noticed his eyes were a bit glassy? 

“Kai? What’s wrong?” He scoffed at your concern and tossed the shirt he was wearing onto the bed with the others. He went to the closet to search for something new but he paused when he noticed it was nearly barren, save for but a few ties hanging up. “Perhaps you should go without me...I’ve...changed my mind.” He spoke quietly, his back still turned to you. “What? Are you being serious with me right now or is this a joke?” You furrowed your brows. Suddenly he turned to look at you with a touch of anger and desperation in his eyes. “Do I look like the type to kid around?” You sighed and stood up to approach him. He was confused for the most part when you made it over to him and gently grabbed the sides of his face in your hands. You smiled and nuzzled your nose against his before planting a gentle kiss upon each cheek. You managed to diffuse his anger but the mood shifted when you saw his eyes glisten with water, tears threatening to fall but he was too stubborn to let it happen. “Kai please talk to me, you know I’ll listen if you tell me how you feel.” He sighed at your words and looked everywhere but into your eyes as he started to explain. 

“None of my clothes look good on me anymore. I’ve gained so much damn weight in the past few months that I don’t recognize myself in the mirror anymore. I can barely stand to look at myself anyway...Aside from that, I can hear some of the men at the very lowest rung of the Hassaikai make fun of me behind my back. Surely I killed them off but it doesn’t diminish how their words made me feel. My quirk can easily be used to get rid of this issue but I feel like that’s the easy way out of things. I’d like to become much more active but between work I just can’t find the time. I’m a disappointment and far beneath what you deserve to be seen with.” He finished ranting to you and quickly reached up to wipe a tear away but you beat him to it. When he looked at you with wet eyes, he expected to see you agreeing with him but instead you met his gaze with adoration, love, and support. “Kai I can understand how you must be feeling right now. Gaining weight like that must’ve felt drastic considering its only been a few months but you shouldn’t be caught up comparing yourself to the past yknow? We’re humans, and our bodies grow with change. It’s good you want to work out instead of just using your quirk, but you should know that working out could be done to make yourself feel better health-wise instead of changing your appearance to change others. Personally I thought you were handsome before and I still think you’re handsome now as well. No matter what appearance you take on you will always be Kai Chisaki, young head of the Shie Hassaikai. If I can love you, then you owe it to yourself to love you as well. Got that, my capo?” He rolled his eyes at the nickname and rubbed away more tears. “I suppose...but now what will we do? I’ve made us late to the entire damn event and I’m sure Pops and the others are waiting on us.” He scratched his chin in thought and stared off at the wall while trying to figure out a game plan. Meanwhile you had much more devious intentions wrapped beneath all that fluff you laid on him. “Angel???” You caught his attention immediately when those hands of yours fumbled with the rim of his underwear. His ears and cheeks quickly turned pink/red from the shock of it all. “What are you doing?” 

As if he had to ask.

You smirked at him and flashed mischief from those half-lidded eyes. “What do you mean what am I doing? I’m simply showing my husband how beautiful he is and how much I appreciate his body. You can’t honestly expect me to give up this opportunity when you’re right here in front of me.” You feigned innocence and he could already feel himself hardening up...especially with the way your free hand gripped him and teased him from the outside of the underwear. “Angel, but we’re already late. What if we-” He paused and sucked in air from his teeth when you slipped his cock out from the confinement of the underwear, and your tongue took an experimental swish at the tip. His hands clenched at his sides, trying his hardest not to grip your head and guide you. He was trying to deny it, keep his composure but you were too much to handle sometimes. “C’mon Kai, since we’re already late to the party, why don’t we have our own fun here, hmm? Be real good for me and let me taste that cock of yours? Maybe if you’re really a good boy, I’ll let you cum. How does that sound hmmm?” You voice may have seemed sweet, but he wasn’t dumb enough to fall for it. He knew of your dominance sometimes displayed in the bedroom when you were up to it. The temptation to bend to your will was all too strong so he obeyed. “Fine, j-just make it qu-quick.” He pouted and looked away from you, his face cherry red by now. You smirked in triumph and wasted no time on him. Taking his entire member and shoving it into your mouth at once may have been the closest thing to heaven on Earth he would ever feel in his life. In all honesty, he almost came right then and there, but he wanted to hold out for you. He needed to be good for you or else your punishment wouldn’t be nearly as soft as you were treating him right now.

“Mmmm, you’re certainly tasty Chisaki~” You spoke after slowly moving your mouth from him. You spit on the tip and used your thumb to spread it around, taking delight in the way he shivered under your touch. “Are those knees of yours getting weak, capo? You can’t really be giving out on me already can you?” You teased him and he groaned lowly. “C-cut it out and just suck it already.” You frowned at his demands and shook your head. “What are the magic words, handsome?” He blushed lightly at your compliment and uttered a soft ‘please’ while looking away. You smiled and began swirling your tongue around the head of his cock while using your hand to gently massage him. You only pulled away to occassionaly speak praises on him. 

“You have such a lovely body Kai, it’s just right for me. I love your tummy, I love your cheeks, you shoulders, back, arms, all of it. I adore most of all the way it react when I’m touching you like this while we’re alone.” He shuddered at your words and only began quietly moaning when you went back down on him. With each bob of your head and hand, it was getting harder and harder to contain the sounds he was making. By the time he was nearing his finish, he was a moaning mess. His legs were shaking and standing was barely an option anymore but he held on so as to not appear to weak during your show of dominance. His face was a brilliant red/pink, and it was coated in a sheen of sweat. He couldn’t really find the words but this wouldn’t be good enough for you in the moment. You needed him to understand all of this was out of love, lust, and adoration for him so you made him beg.

“Kai speak up for me. All those moans are just a garbled mess and you know it.”

“Angel please...”

You smirked and worked your hand a bit faster than before, spitting on him again to keep the slick lubrication on his cock. “Beg harder for me handsome. Tell me you need this.”

“Please Angel, I can barely take anymore. I’m so close I’m-”

“Beg harder.”

“ANGEL PLEASE! I want to cum so badly, I’ll do anything!”

“Hmmmm, anything?”

“Yes, GOD YES!”

“Then admit it. Admit that your body is beautiful no matter what. Admit that you’re worthy of love from my, others, and most importantly yourself. And promise that you’ll stop being so hard on yourself. Do it Kai, if you wanna cum.”

“YES, I PROMISE...I’ll !!!” He gasped loudly and came without much of a warning, with you accidently getting caught in the crossfire. You pouted and he quickly looked away while trying to catch his breath. Slowly he fell to his knees on the ground in front of you and lowered his sweaty head to your shoulder. “Ugh, you make a mess of me every time...” He quietly gasped out between breaths. You wiped the cum from your face and pulled him into a tight hug. “Making a mess out of you is fun. I’m the only one that can do it, so I take a lot of pride in that.” You teased him lightly and he sighed. “Let’s go take a shower. This is disgusting you know.” 

“Agreed.” You kissed his neck and joined him in the shower. After preparing for bed, you shot a text to Pops and the others letting them know that a matter of business came up last minute and that was why you and Kai couldn’t make it. After the little white lie, you cuddled up into bed beside him and he pulled you into his chest, placing his head on you so he could inhale your sweet scent from the body wash. “Y’know I meant everything I said back there, about loving yourself and how you were worthy of it. I just wanted you to know it wasn’t just the heat of the moment.” You spoke up after a long comfortable silence. You felt him kiss the top of your head as he began rubbing gentle and loving circles into your hip underneath the covers. “You treat me too well, Y/N. I love you, and I suppose I’ll make better attempts at your wishes. Now please go to bed.” You chuckled at his words and rolled to face him. His eyes were full of gentleness and appreciation for you. “Okay, mochi tummy.” You teased him with a smile and planted a gentle kiss on his lips before nuzzling into his neck and chest and falling asleep. “Pshhh, such an annoying nickname.” He lied before following shortly behind you to dreamland.

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

Instagram: @pastelbattydraws & @pastelbattystore

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCRNMJH7vHL7APNobUykhK4w?view_as=subscriber

[hope-to-hell]

A Possession, part three: Dissolution. August Walker x Henry Cavill. Warnings for the entire fic: possession, dubcon (possession-related; our hero never asked for this), mentions of past torture (prior to story events), some degradation, praise kink. Roughly 6k words altogether. Section heading titles largely pulled from whatever music I was listening to at the time. This is it: the last chapter. A little smut, a little angst. Nothing lasts. Part one is here, part two is here

—-

Shake, shake

—-

Somehow, impossibly, you make it more than a week without touching him. And somehow, you figure out a way to exist in the same space. Thank god for quarantine, at least, so you have an excuse to stay at home, to keep this weirdness out of the public eye.

Walker turns out to be a surprisingly competent cook, but hesitates when you ask what his favorite foods are. And despite everything, it’s so hard to shake the feeling of being a host, of providing for your guest, however uninvited he might be. So you make a grocery order and start in on the best dishes you know: pies and roast lamb, hamburgers, risotto, whatever comes to mind when you think of meals you’ve enjoyed. He eats them all dutifully, but it’s not until you hit upon rainbow trout in parchment that you get your first real sigh of pleasure. Huh. You would’ve pegged him for a red meat kind of guy.

And everything you do, everywhere you go, he’s there, watching. Considering. Ten feet away.

It’s like this. One evening he braces one hand against the wall of the shower and drops his head in a pose you know so well. You don’t mean to look, but Christ, he must want you to. Must, because he draws open the shower door to stare straight at you from under his sopping curls as he fists his cock. Must, because he kicks his legs apart to press hard behind his balls with his other hand. Must, because he hisses your name like a curse when he paints the bathroom floor white. And the whole time his eyes are locked on yours.

“I wouldn’t mind,” he says again, and somehow you find the voice to answer.

“Wouldn’t mind isn’t good enough. You’ve got to tell me you want it.” And you have the satisfaction of seeing August Walker poleaxed, however briefly. He hmms a little, thoughtfully, and brushes past you into the bedroom, water droplets shining on the curve of his ass. His gait hitches as he approaches the limits of separation, and you hurry to follow, clean enough to get by for another night but feeling filthier than you have any right to. And when you slide carefully under the covers, he inhales deeply, like he’s scenting you. He smiles, victorious, in the half-dark as you lie there with both hands fisted in the sheets just like you have for days, but now you know exactly what he looks like when he comes.

Fuck.

He escalates, because of course he does. He waits until you’re soaking up sunshine in the kitchen window, then presses in close to cage your body against the counter. He brushes scarred fingertips down the side of your face, and it’s like your mind has been ripped straight out of your body. You feel him touching you, and fuck. You feel him touching you. It’s the strangest sensation, touches doubling and echoing. Licking into his mouth and tasting your own tongue, pulling him in by the hips and feeling matching bruises rise on your own body. And from the way he surges against you, he must feel it too.

Remember. Your nerves are my nerves. You want me to say it? Here it is, directly from my mind to yours. I. Want. This.

This is the part of the movie where it fades to black, where the last thing the audience sees is the lovers, entwined, maybe a flash of light on a naked thigh. This is the part where the music swells, climaxes, spills into silence.

This is the part where the next scene is either a soft, affectionate embrace or a hasty exit from the bed, a quick redressing and an angsty downtempo tune, maybe a walk in the rain.

This is the part where he starts to rise, where you wrap your hand around his wrist and whisper, “stay.”

—-

Untethering

—-

It isn’t clear, at first, what’s happening. A little extra hair in the drain is easy to explain away; you’ve got two people sharing the shower now. Same with the bruising that appears on his arms, his back, his ribs, because for all he grips at you, you give back in equal measure. And if he takes a little longer in the shower than before, if he seems to spend an awfully long time just leaning back and letting the spray hit him, well, maybe he’s finally relaxing a little.

It’s days and days of rutting against one another, of watching in the mirror as he takes you apart. And he loves it, that grinding ache in his fingers as he presses them inside you. He loves it, and you know because you feel it; you feel an answering ache in your own hands and a twinge in your cock that’s almost but not quite unlike anything you’ve felt before (it’s close, so close, to the first time, when he was still just a voice in your head).

Somehow, it’s still a surprise when he shakes you awake and hisses, “Get inside me. Now.” And when you reach for him, a little hesitant because you’ve had each other in nearly every way except this, you taste something strange and metallic, chilly on your tongue. He’s anxious, desperate. The metallic taste increases in its intensity as he surges at your mouth, licking into you with savage competency.

“Are you—“ are you sure is what you want to say, but he’s pressing lube at you with one hand while trying to tear your sleep pants off with the other, and it feels like he’s got half a dozen hands roaming all around you, and it’s unfair because he knows exactly what this does to you, exactly how you respond to every touch. It’s overwhelming, and soon you lose that peculiar metallic taste in the static that sparks hot down your spine and right into where you swell and pulse with the sudden desperate need of him.

And you want to watch his face, watch those eyes shine in the darkness, want to rub your face against his as you open him but he’s turning away, over, hitching a knee under himself and reaching blindly back for your hand. “Now,” he grits out in a voice like the bottom of a dry well. And it’s too soon, has to be, before he’s demanding two and then three fingers and then “godfuckingdammit, that’s enough. Get in me already.”

And when you press into him it’s, fuck, for a moment your vision whites out and you are nowhere, hurling aimlessly through a great expense of nothing, and it’s simultaneously the most terrifying and exhilarating thing you’ve ever felt. Is it like this for him? Can’t be, he’s always so controlled, so precise. It’s impossible even to think like this,

I’ll think for you. Don’t worry, just act.

so you don’t think, and when you return to your body it’s to find yourself draped over him, clinging, rolling your hips like a ship in a storm. Desperation doubles back and builds on itself until you feel as though if you don’t come right now you will die. And you don’t want to die, but you also aren’t sure what the rules are, so you try to withdraw and that’s when his hand closes around your wrist, hard and tight and don’t you fucking dare.

And that’s it, that’s all it takes, his touch and his blessing, before you’re spilling inside him in long shivering pulses. And even then, even when he clenches so tight around you it’s like he’s pulling all the blood from your body, he doesn’t let you go.

You stay with him, in him, until you soften and slip free, and when you wrap an arm over his belly he lets you. He feels warm, as relaxed as he ever gets, and most of all relieved. “Better?” you ask, and in return he twists his neck, rolling his shoulders back till he can reach to kiss you. It’s soft, but almost mathematical in its precision. And he still tastes like metal.

—-

Waves and light (how bold I was)

—-

He’s stopped sleeping. In the night you reach for him and find the bed cold. He’s there, of course, ten feet away, staring out the window. He’s all hard muscle, luminous in the moonlight, a demigod or an avenging angel. He turns and tilts his head, and you can see his breath hang frosty in the air. You wake in the morning to find him still standing at the window, and for a split second you could swear the light passes right through him.

He’s stopped sleeping, and he hovers a little closer than he used to but he doesn’t touch, not until you sigh and tell him to “get over here. C’mon. I don’t have to touch you to know you’re worried about something.”

So you enclose him in the circle of your arms, bump your face against his scars to feel that little spark, that staticky sensation from nerve damage, to feed him the pleasure that touching him brings. You breathe softly, saying nothing, until he relaxes by degrees.

He smells like blood, but then again he always does. Chaos and death are embedded into every fiber of his being. If he were to shed his skin, to slither pink and naked into the world as a man reborn, maybe it would be different. But he is who he is, and you are who you are, although tangled like this it’s sometimes hard to tell the difference. One of you sparks a slow-burning arousal, the kind that takes hours to come to a head if it does at all, a slow soft yearning. You sigh into it, nuzzling at him a bit, feeling your stubble scrape across his cheek. Like this, you can almost forget who and what he is.

And he hears you, huffs a little. What I am doesn’t matter anymore, not outside these walls. And I—

He sucks in a breath, harsh and wet, sucking air up from your lungs. It burns, scraping bloody up your throat.

Metal again. And pressed against him like this, you can catch the echoes of fear, of a strange sort of dissolution. Light through greasepaper, snow drifting through broken windows. Shoulders straining against his jacket. Blood and bone and a lonely valley. Trying to breathe but the shards of his ribs dig into his lungs—

Oh.

Oh fuck. You realize, then, that he’s dying, pulled back to that moment. None of this mattered in the end; all it did was delay the inexorable march of fate. You can almost see it happening, scars brightening and blooming into wounds, bruises rising where he hit the ground. And you hear it too, the slow scrape of metal across the floor, the heavy tread of boots and a soft susurration of fabric. She’s here.

And it’s strange: you’d expect her to revel in this, finally capturing this soul that’s eluded her for so long. But it’s almost like she’s trying to be comforting. Things fall apart. Entropy comes for us all, in the end. And you got more time than most.

Listen, I don’t want to you have to go. His fingers tremble against yours, coppery fear blooming heavy on your tongue.

I’m not unkind, you know. It’s just the way it has to be. Think of this as a gift. Better than falling apart piece by piece, isn’t that right?

Is it? Maybe, with more time, you could figure something out, maybe if he took just a little more, a few of your years, you don’t need that much time, you could spare him that—

No. Hey. We. We had a good run, didn’t we? Just, remember me. Please.

He’s terrified, pulse rabbiting in his chest, fingers clutching yours as the scythe descends. And you feel it when the connection breaks, tension dissolving as he fades, the cruel hard core of him pulling free from your chest. Your hand is your hand again, grasping at nothing. He manages a smile, almost, shimmering through a film of tears. Hey, listen. I—

And then he’s gone, nothing more than motes of dust in the air, as you blink hard, trying to pull him back into your sight.

—-

Epilogue (the last thing inside the box was)

—-

You see him sometimes, a flash of cold eyes in the crowd or a particular way someone has of standing. You listen to the wind, and watch frost crawling up the windows in winter, and you miss him.

You return to the world, you smile and wave and show your teeth. It’s not a real smile, not quite, but you’ll get there. You always have.

You bake trout in parchment, and American biscuits, and you eat alone.

On a wintery afternoon you climb aboard a packed train, mercifully anonymous in the crowd. Your bare hand brushes against a stranger’s. You feel a spark, pins and needles, like a waking limb.

[talkfastromance4]

Sundress Seductress// Luke Hemmings

Twin @spicycal​ and I bounced this idea back and forth and we had to write it! We’re so excited to share it with you all! Check hers out here but to clarify this is not a Cake fic! You’ll see why ;)

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: smut, slight voyeurism, slight praise kink, unprotected sex (always be safe!) 

Masterlist

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.  *copyright is listed at end*

Enjoy! :)

• • • •

Since you first met Luke, there was no denying the attraction you both shared for each other. He was the first amongst the guys to catch your eye. His tall frame, broad shoulders, blond curls and sky blue eyes made your heart flutter. While he caught your attention, Calum caught the eye of your best friend.

The first few times you all hung out, you felt like a fool and acted like one around Luke. You stammered over your words a lot because you got lost in his eyes and his intimidating stature even though his personality was that of a golden retriever puppy. You swooned every time.

As time went on and you got closer and more comfortable, you began to tease each other light heartedly. You’d call him a tree and he’d call you munchkin because of how small you are compared to him. He’d come up behind you and rest his forearm on your head because you’re the “perfect height for an armrest.” And he’d smirk and you’d pretend to be offended but secretly you loved it each time he did it.

Your flirtationship grew and grew, just as your best friend and Calum’s did as well. They were always goofing off and laughing about inside jokes no one else ever wanted to understand. Many nights you’d stay up on the phone nitpicking each other’s interactions trying to decipher any hidden meanings. You always came up short.

You both figured if they liked you, they’d make the first move and that’d be that.

One night while you were all over at Calum’s with the rest of the guys, Luke was being more flirty than normal. He kept wanting to compare hand sizes and leaned on you more than usual.

“What’s gotten into you?” you giggle when he wraps his arm around your neck pulling you against him, your hand holds onto his chest. He’s very warm and you can feel his heart thud beneath his teal silk shirt. A shirt that makes his eyes dance and your knees weak as you gaze up at him.

“You haven’t,” he grins and you scrunch your nose at his attempted sexual innuendo.

“You want me in you?” you laugh.

“Well, I’d prefer to be in you,” he smirks, rubbing his thumb on your cheek, “but I’ll take whatever I can get.”

“Oh yeah? I think you’ve had enough to drink.”

He shrugs, a dazed smile on his face until someone calls his name. With a quick, wet kiss to your forehead, he leaves you to speak with them and you’re flushed. What the hell was that?

***

It’s been a hot four days in LA and it will only get hotter so you were out shopping with your best friend for sundresses to wear. They kept you cool in the blazing sun and Michael was throwing a BBQ this weekend, putting his DJ skills to the test for entertainment while the pool was open.

She was telling you of the most recent encounter she had with Calum and you listened intently but also a bit distracted from Luke texting you. Just recently you began sending each other playful texts.

It stemmed from a few nights ago when you were having a girls night of going to dinner and a bar for some drinks to let loose. You had on a dusty rose body-suit with lace along the bodice paired with jean shorts and black boots. You felt great, you looked great, and with the amount of drinks you’ve already had you were feeling pretty great as well.

Feeling bold, you went to the bathroom of the bar and snapped a pic in front of the large oval mirror above the sink. The lighting in the bathroom made your skin glow. With your hand on your waist, hip jutted out and your head cocked, you stuck your tongue out at your reflection and sent it to Luke. Swaying slightly in your boots, you examined the picture more closely and thought you looked hot.

You took a few more in different poses, peace sign above your head, your back facing the mirror so you looked behind yourself and then a selfie with your tongue sticking out, the camera angled perfectly at your cleavage.

It wasn’t until you got home that Luke responded to your little photoshoot and you were giddy at what his response would be.

Fuck, you look good

Then he started sending pictures back. Not long after that, the pictures turned into scenarios and late night confessions of secret attraction. Your stomach filled with butterflies when you found out the attraction was mutual.

“Hey, what do you think of this one?” your best friend asks, nudging you harshly in the shoulder.

Your attention was fixed on Luke’s most recent text, it was a picture of him shirtless lying on his bed, his phone held at arm's length so you could see his chest.

Wish you were here

“Hm? Oh, um,” you look at the dress in question that is held between her fingers. It’s speckled blue with pretty wildflowers scattered about and a high slit that comes up just underneath the waist. “Wow, I love it!”

“Me too,” she giggles then smirks. “What’s on your phone that’s so interesting?”

“Umm, Luke’s just texting me,” you smile slyly. You reply back: yeah, why’s that?

“Are you guys still sexting?”

“I wouldn’t classify it as sexting, it’s very PG-13,” you defend just as your phone buzzes.

“Yeah?” she quirks her eyebrow then holds out her palm, “then what’d he say right now?”

You glance down at your phone and unlock it. His response makes your cheeks heat up and your heart beats erratically in your chest. You took a deep breath and read aloud his response,

“So you can join me in the shower, conserve water and all that.”

Then you gasp at the picture he sent. He’s in his bathroom now leaning against the sink with his arm on the mirror so it shows off his thin but muscular bicep, his stomach taut. He’s smirking at you in that charming way he does and your eyes slide down his torso, the treasure trail leads down to his pubic area that you can see a little bit of his shaft.

You gulp.

“Honey, that is not PG-13.”

***

Before the BBQ, your best friend sent you a very in depth text about how you can both get Calum and Luke to make a move. You stared at her plan for a solid two minutes, mulling it over and thinking of all the ramifications. Yet it also made you think of the potential perks that could go along with it.

Staring at yourself in the mirror you look at your sundress you chose. It’s a dandelion yellow with clear buttons all down the front. It’s short and fun and you chew your lip thinking over her plan once more. Luke sends you a text saying he can’t wait to see you with a winky face and it made up your mind.

With a big sigh and a look of determination at your reflection, you lift up the skirt of your dress and slip your panties off. You kick them to the side and examine every angle of yourself in the mirror making sure no one will be able to tell you’ve gone commando. Before you can change your mind, you slip on your sandals then leave out the door.

No turning back now.

When you arrive at Michael’s house, music is already booming from the backyard and you feel like everyone is watching you and they know your little secret. You spot Luke near the back of the yard and he’s looking hot in a white tank top tucked into his dark washed jeans. He spots you almost instantly and makes his way over to you, smiling happily.

“Don’t you look like a drop of sunshine,” he says and it makes you blush. He pulls you in for a hug, his hands slip lower on your backside and he gives you a light squeeze. You yelp at the action and hope it didn’t hike up your dress or that he could feel you were bare underneath. “C’mon, let’s go get a drink.”

The bbq is in full swing, the music is amazing and Ashton is grilling up a storm. When you finish your first drink and move onto your second, that’s when you gain some confidence in your plan. Glancing around you see your best friend and Calum dancing together in front of Michael and she shoots you a wink.

You’re sitting in a group near the pool where other party goers are happily splashing in the cool water when you have an idea. Luke is sitting directly across from you and he’s resting both his arms on his knees. You’ve got a clear view of his chest, his necklace dangling.

So if you have a clear view of him, then he must have a clear view as well. You have to time your moment perfectly and then Luke shifts his focus to you. Eyes on him, you slowly uncross your legs, spreading them a little wider and like clockwork, his eyes flicker in between your thighs.

After two breaths you cross your other leg over again, and smile sweetly at him when he looks back at you. He licks his lips and shakes his head, it makes you giggle as you down the rest of your drink.

Later on as the sun is setting, you went into the downstairs bar area to take advantage of the air conditioning. You’re leaning against the bar with your hair off your neck and then you feel hands grip onto your waist and a body press against your backside.

“Was that little show just for me?” Luke murmurs against the skin on your neck. His voice vibrates onto you, his breath hot as his thumbs knead into your waist.

“Did you like it?”

“Mmm… mhm.” You feel him nod against you, the tip of his nose traces above the collar of your dress and he lifts the skirt of it up a little. “I liked it a little too much.”

Luke spins you around quickly and suddenly you’re sat atop the counter, your dress pushed past your thighs. His fingers tickle along your skin and it leaves chills down your spine. You glance down and see just how much he liked it.

“What are you going to do about it?” you exhale, voice low.

“Take full advantage,” he smiles then drops to his knees, his fingers push your dress up further and he opens your legs wider. He inhales deeply through his nose and the way he’s looking at your pussy has you reeling, you can’t help the way you clench. He groans and presses his lips to the inside of your knee, dragging his lips higher and higher until you feel his breath on your core. “Can I have a taste?”

You let out a shaky breath, your voice quivers in anticipation and arousal, “Please.”

Luke keeps his eyes on you, they contrast perfectly with the golden color of your dress and he flattens his tongue against your folds. He flashes his smirk before his eyes close and he attaches his lips fully onto you, his tongue swirling and flicking ever so slowly. He’s taking his time and your head tilts back from the tickling sensation, your fingers fly into his curls.

The pads of his fingers are hot on your knees to keep you open for him and when his tongue flicks your clit you have to bite your lip to keep the moan at bay. He does it again and again and a small squeak slips out.

“Moan for me, lovie, let me hear you,” he breathes and the vibration of his voice pulses against you in the sweetest way. “There we go, good girl.”

He speeds up his actions and your thighs begin to shake, your hold on his hair tightens and you’re sighing his name. His words of praise take you to another level, his lips and tongue are magic and you feel that all familiar tug in your lower belly. Then Luke slips his long finger inside and you clench your thighs, your heels joining together on the middle of his back.

“So wet for me, lovie, cum for me, c’mon.”

With each glide of his finger and dart of his tongue, you feel your climax climbing, you grind yourself against his mouth and when he hits a certain spot you gasp. You let out a long moan as your body goes rigid from your orgasm. Luke drags it out as long as he can, slowing his movements with yours until you stop clenching. He gives you a last kiss on your core, removes his finger then rises onto his feet.

Through half lidded eyes you watch him move his finger to his mouth but you snatch his wrist and place his finger between your own lips. He watches you suck your arousal off his finger with his mouth open, loving the way you take his whole finger in your mouth.

With your lips still around his finger, you untuck his tank top from his pants and work on undoing them. Just as you’re about to pull his pants and briefs down, you hear a commotion from the stairs. In a flash, Luke has you in his arms, your legs hooked around his waist and you let out a squeal of laughter as he runs into the bathroom.

He places you on the sink and shuts the door locking it, the only source of light from the small window bathes you in a warm golden glow.

“Shh,” he chuckles pressing his hand against your mouth, you laugh against his palm.

“Did you see who it was?” you whisper when he removes his hand.

“No,” he shakes his head, “we’ll wait until--”

You both hear Calum and your best friend’s familiar laugh. You and Luke burst into a fit of silent giggles against each other as you hear what sounds like exactly what you and Luke were doing no more than a minute ago.

“Now what do we do?” you ask sliding your hands up and down his chest and over his shoulders.

“Well, I think you were about to take my pants off,” he knocks his forehead against yours. His hands brace onto your lower back and pulls you forward so he can grind himself against you.

“Oh yeah, you’re right,” you sigh. Your fingers drag down his chest and under his shirt, you tease against his lower stomach with your nails. You can feel his pubic hair and his breathing becomes uneven when you let your finger dip a little lower, touching his dick. “But I think you should kiss me first.”

He groans and presses his mouth to yours, tongue sweeping into your mouth and you moan. You kiss quickly but quietly as you tug his pants down. He removes his hands from you to help and then you feel his dick press against your thigh.

“Fuck,” you sigh against his lips.

“Want me to fuck you?” he whispers moving his lips to your jaw and your neck. You take him in your hand, pumping him slowly and rubbing your thumb around his head. He’s a little sticky from precum and it only makes you want him more.

“Please, Luke,” you beg, your voice rises as you buck your hips against him on instinct.

“Shh, you need to be quiet. Can’t have Cal hear you,” he breathes on your neck. He rocks himself against you as well, his tip teasing your entrance with each rock.

You help each other out, your hand guides him inside and he pushes in further and further until he’s fully slipped inside. The start of your moan is loud but he smashes his lips to yours quickly, feeling him inside you is far better than you imagined. He fills you completely and when Luke drags his hips away and slams back into you, you moan again into his mouth.

His hands are on your lower back, jerking your hips forward and back as he starts a steady pace. Your butt is hanging off the edge of the sink and if Luke wasn’t holding onto you, you’d fall to the floor for sure.

You’re both panting, breathing hot on each other’s skin as he rocks your world. You think you’re about to pass out from keeping silent but he feels so good as he fucks into you with perfect precision.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he sighs and you moan at his words which he seals quickly with a kiss. “You like praise, huh?”

“Yes,” you squeak out pressing your hands on his lower back so he can fuck into you deeper. “Ohh, right there, right there…”

He slams into you rapidly, his balls hitting your ass and it adds to your pleasure, you feel your orgasm coming faster this time. You hear a groan from outside the door but you don’t even care that Calum and your best friend might hear you. Luke is making you feel good and you want him to know it.

Luke kisses you again just as you cum, you moan loudly into his mouth as you see stars behind your eyelids. He pumps into you a few times before he pulls out and shoves the skirt of your dress up so he can cum onto your stomach and thighs. His load is hot as you feel it dribble on your skin, his moans are sweet in your ear as you encourage him to keep going.

“Mm, just like that,” you breathe in his ear and his body jerks against you until he stops.

Hearts racing, you stay there holding each other as you gather your breath back. In a few short minutes the moans and low talking from beyond the door quiet down as well and that’s when Luke pulls away.

You fall back against the mirror, body spent from the two orgasms he gave you and you watch him tuck himself back into his pants and gather toilet paper to clean up his mess on your thighs.

He tosses the wad into the trash can and pulls you forward off the mirror. You fall against him like a ragdoll and he smiles. The setting sun colors him in a vibrant pink now and he’s never looked more beautiful.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” he tells you.

“Me too,” you smile and give him a soft kiss. “We just had sex while our best friends had sex outside this door.”

“I know,” he chuckles helping you off the sink. Your legs are a little wobbly but his hold on you helps. “I think the coast is clear. Should we head back to my place and continue?”

“Yes please.”

He kisses your forehead then unlocks the door and lets you out first. You think he’s being a gentleman but he smacks your ass as you walk past. You’re laughing and then you stop dead in your tracks when you see Calum buttoning his shirt and your best friend readjusting her dress.

“Oh shi--”

“Uhh--”

“Hi!” you laugh nervously trying to break the very obvious awkward situation.

“Were you guys in there--?” Your best friend asks.

“Yup,” you nod trying to make the situation pass more quickly.

“So...we were out here having...and you two--”Calum points at you and Luke “--were in there having--”

“Yeah,” Luke sighs, grabbing your hand and tugs you along past them. “Tell fucking no one.”

You follow him up the stairs and with one final look behind you, your best friend gives you a thumbs up which has you laughing. Sundresses have more perks than you thought.

• • • •

Copyright talkfastromance4 © All works is intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction or any part or all contents in any form is prohibited. You may not, without written expression and consent from the author, distribute works amongst other social media platforms

Taglist: @galcalirwin​ @cashtonasff5sos​ @wokeupinjapanisabop​ @myloverboyash​  @rotten-kandy​ @tea4sykes​ @jannimoeller3​ @loveroflrh​ @iovehemmings​ @cxddlyash​ @princesslrh​ @here-for-the-uproars​ @katiaw2​ @g-l-pierce​ @fairyintheglass​ @gosh-im-short​ @banditocth​ @dezzym17 @loverofmineabi​ @lukeisbaby​ @spicycal​ @mysticalhood​ @thesubtweeter​ @wastedheartcth​ @atlcalm​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​ @calumance​ @babylon-corgis​ @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt​ @lanternlover2​ @istaywithmyjonas​ @calteahood​ @sarcastically-defensive17​ @allier59​ @calumhoodaf​ @frontmanash​ @philthepegacorn​ @mantlereid​ @lukedorkyhemmings​ @addietagglikesbands​ @kikixfandoms​

[themurphyzone]

PatB Nova Ch 8

Ch 8: Radiant

It’s been a long time since I updated this fic. Thanks for your patience!

FFN Link, AO3 Link

Brain scrambled off Pinky as soon as he was able to move. Though part of Pinky wished the moment had lasted longer, he was happy that his best friend was okay after that mean ol’ Mr. Lamont squished him.

Brushing off the dust from his favorite pair of denim shorts, Pinky hopped to his feet like a piece of fresh popcorn. Next to him, Brain wiped the lens of his sunglasses on the inside of his shirt and slipped them over his eyes. He ran his fingers over his antennae to get the kinks out.

“Are your hands okay?” Pinky asked, grabbing Brain’s hands to make sure there was no bleeding or bruising or barbecuing. “Your elbows? Kidneys? Crookedy tail?”

“I’m fine. In case your addled mind can’t tell, no extremities are out of place and my internal organs have remained internal,” Brain grumbled. He turned his attention to the frightened worker, who was scrambling to pick up the scattered items Mr. Lamont had rudely thrown to the floor. “As for you, your inaction almost cost me my guide! Have you no shame?”

The worker, whose name was Conner according to the spiffy name tag on his chest, glared at Brain and angrily threw a baseball cap into the box. “And risk my job here? No thank you! What were you thinking, talking to Mr. Lamont like that? You trying to get us all in trouble?”

Brain scowled and folded his arms. “I will speak to Mr. Lamont however I desire. He’s hardly different from any other inhabitant.”

“If you want his lawyers ripping every cent out of your body, that’s on you,” Conner snorted. He stood up and nudged the box behind the podium with his foot. “But leave the rest of us out of it. Just what rock have you been living under if you’ve never heard of him anyway?”

Brain’s fur started to bristle, and Pinky nudged him aside. “Sorry about my friend,” he said to the worker. “He’s new here. Poit! They don’t even have blueberry bagels where he’s from, you know.”

“Yes, truly scandalous,” Brain scoffed. Though Pinky figured he really did wish he’d been introduced to the joys of bagels sooner.

For a moment, Conner was silent, but he accepted the explanation with a sigh. “Well, guess I can cut you some slack then,” he muttered. Brain tapped his foot impatiently, and Conner plopped into his chair behind the podium. “You just backtalked the guy who owns a good chunk of the city, including the mall. Displease him in any way and he goes complaining to the boss, then it’s a reprimand or a firing, and nobody here can afford that.”

Come to think of it, he might’ve seen Mr. Lamont’s face on the local news while channel surfing, but it could’ve easily been a large dust bunny or a mustard stain as well. He wasn’t sure which.

Oh well.

Then Pinky noticed a glint of light on Conner’s right hand. Conner ran his hand down his face, revealing a simple silvery band on his ring finger.

“I like your ring!” Pinky exclaimed. “Very pretty!”

Conner smiled sheepishly, a light blush over his cheeks. “Heh, thanks. Got married a month ago. Not really on the expensive side, but-”

“-but I bet you love each other very much!” Pinky said, giving Brain a nudge. “What do you think, Brain? Isn’t it just lovely?”

“Very,” Brain grunted, slapping Pinky’s hand off his shoulder.

Very extremely completely romantic indeed! Exchanging vows, slipping the rings on, the kissing and the cheering and the I do’s! Mounds of flowers and lots of food and dancing! And he couldn’t forget the bouquet toss! How could he forget the bouquet toss?

A sharp tug of his wrist brought him back to reality.

“This has been most enlightening,” Brain said, turning his back on Conner. “However, you have your objectives and we have ours. We’ll be on our way. Come, Pinky.”

As Brain led him back to the crowded parts of the mall, Pinky turned and waved to Conner. “Bye!” he called. “Have a nice day!”

Conner waved back, then he looked down and rifled through a stack of paper on the podium. “Hold on a sec!” he shouted, snatching up two small papers and running towards them. He had a much longer stride than them, so it only took seconds to catch up before they could rejoin the main walkway.

Pinky stopped in his tracks. Brain’s grumpy stomps came to a halt, but he wasn’t happy about the delay. His fingers tensed around Pinky’s wrist.

“I was saving these promotional coupons for some other time, but I figured I owed you for the trouble,” Conner explained, handing the coupons to Pinky. “Besides, it’s Free Burger Day. Might as well get the full American experience with your friend there.”

Reading through the info on both coupons, Pinky practically felt his eyeballs pop out of their sockets Looney Tunes style. Free cheeseburgers with a side of French fries? His tummy rumbled with hunger, and oh, where were his manners?

“Thanks so much!” Pinky exclaimed, hooking his arm around Brain’s, who made a surprised noise as he tried to read the coupons himself. He didn’t have the same excited reaction though. “Bye, Conner!”

With the coupons and Brain in hand, Pinky took off, darting around people’s feet, shopping bags, and the occasional stroller.  

Brain never had fast food before either! Sure, it could be unhealthy, but it was so delicious all the same! Besides, the wheel would help get rid of all the bad cholesterol anyway.

“Wait ‘til you see the food court, Brain! They’ve got all sorts of things there! I wish you could try them all, but we need money for that and Conner was so very nice to give us coupons for free burgers!” Pinky shouted above all the noise. “Oh, watch out for that gumball machine!”

“What?” Brain yelled back. He was looking down, short legs trying to match Pinky’s speed, and not watching where he was going. He slammed into the base of a gumball machine, wobbling back and forth as if he was following the movement of the pretty swirling stars that appeared whenever one was dizzy. Mumbling something in Selenian, he nearly wobbled into the path of a kid’s sneaker.

Pinky tucked the coupons under one arm and dragged Brain away before he was accidentally squashed again.

“Sorry, Brain,” Pinky said once Brain shook enough of the dizziness away to level a glare at him. Even with the sunglasses’ dark tint, Pinky felt those pink eyes boring into him. “I’ll slow down a bit?”

“See that you do,” Brain replied, shoving his hands into his denim pockets. “And no more hand-holding. As one of the future rulers of this world, I refuse to allow the public to see me being carted around like a dead weight.”

“How can a weight be dead if it wasn’t alive to begin with?” Pinky asked.

Brain shrugged. “I don’t know, Pinky. You seem to lug the one inside your head around just fine.”

Pinky rocked back and forth on his heels, preening at the praise. Oh, it was so nice for Brain to take notice of all the weightlifting he did with his batteries!

Brain didn’t comment, gaze fixed on a nearby giant map of the mall. Pinky couldn’t help but wonder what color Brain liked most on the map. He liked the light blue himself, and the green and pink and yellow too. He couldn’t leave out any of the colors. They were all so pretty.

“We’ll have to figure out a different way to obtain money. Not to mention contacting Snowball,” Brain said. “I hope you have ideas, Pinky. Though I reserve the right to take that statement back any time.”

Pinky held up the coupons. In truth, he really couldn’t think about anything but lunch. His stomach growled at the very thought of yummy burgers and fries!

“Food court?” he said hopefully. “This is your first time at a mall, Brain. What mall visit is complete without eating at the food court?”

Brain rubbed his temples, ears falling slightly in annoyance. “If we go, will you stop thinking with your stomach?”

“Nope!” Pinky said proudly. How could he possibly turn down a free burger? “ C’mon, food court’s on the second floor! Last one there’s a purple pickled egg!”

o-o-o-o-o

They took the elevator up, since it was much safer than the escalator and they wouldn’t have to scramble up a flight of stairs. Besides, the elevator was next to a pretty wishing fountain. The water was a beautiful light blue, a stone dolphin spewing water several feet into the air so that anyone nearby was showered with a fine mist.

The mice tucked themselves into a back corner, where the large glass window provided a clear view of people tossing their pennies into the fountain. They kept their tails close so that a stroller’s back wheels didn’t run them over in the tight space.

A young girl tossed a penny into a high arc, and it splashed down near the dolphin centerpiece.

“Narf! What a throw! Whatever she wishes for, it’s gonna come true for sure!” Pinky exclaimed as the elevator started to move. The family they shared the elevator with chatted among themselves, the adults facing forward while the boy lifted the cover of the stroller and made funny faces to the baby inside.

They seemed happy.

Like Mom and Papa when they chased each other around the cage. He hadn’t heard from Sis in a while either. He really oughta write back sometime.

“Pinky,” Brain said, cutting into his thoughts. He seemed uncomfortable, though Pinky wasn’t sure why. Maybe Brain just wasn’t used to elevators. “I don’t see how tossing something into a body of water can result in a wish coming true.”

“It can if you wish all your heart,” Pinky said. “That’s how you go to Dragon Land.”

“Satellite scans have revealed no such country named Dragon Land on this planet.” Brain looked away as the elevator came to a stop. The doors opened, and the humans piled out first. He and Brain followed, and the empty space behind them was quickly filled with other mallgoers. “Assuming we’re at our destination, it’s probably best for you to think with your stomach for a while.”

The scents of delicious food filled the air, and the scent trail of an extra cheesy pizza slice was especially strong. Pinky inhaled deeply, his stomach grumbling just like Brain.

“But you said-“

Brain watched somebody throw away a styrofoam container. “Only until we’re finished with the food court. Anyway, you’ve…um, well you’ve got a leak on your face.”

“Oh, not sure how that happened. I don’t remember eating leeks. Poit,” Pinky said, wiping away the leeks with the back of his hand. The skin was a little damp when he looked again.

Oh. Not leeks then. They were tears.

Thinking about his family usually did that to him.  

Just say narf.

He took a deep breath.

“We should procure ourselves a place to sit,” Brain suggested. He didn’t seem too keen on the lunch crowd. “Preferably a secluded area away from all this noise pollution.”

“Narf! I think there’s a few tables over there.” Pinky pointed to a chair that stuck out from behind a sub sandwich shop.

Surely enough, the tables were unoccupied when they went over to investigate.

A brief smile flitted across Brain’s face as he climbed onto the table. “Good work, Pinky,” he said as he sat down, feet swinging over the edge. “With my current observations, you have to exchange those coupons for our meals, correct?”

Pinky nodded.

“In that case, you grab our food and I’ll remain here.”

“It’s gonna take a little time, Brain,” Pinky admitted. The line for the burger place was at least ten people. Or one hundred. It was hard to tell from this distance. “You sure you don’t wanna stand in line with me?”

“I’ve been trampled once and had many near-misses today.” Brain crossed his arms. “I’m long overdue for some peace so I may ponder quietly to myself.”

The coupons crinkled slightly in Pinky’s hands. Brain couldn’t move with squished antennae, and his accidental crash into the gumball machine probably didn’t do him any favors. And of course there was the crash landing from just a few days ago.

Being alone again was…well, after meeting Brain he just couldn’t imagine it anymore. Pharfignewton was lovely and kind and fast, but she couldn’t live in the lab and he couldn’t live in the stables.

“If you say so.” Pinky turned to leave, then looked over his shoulder at Brain, who was lying on his back with his sunglasses still in position. He didn’t think they’d be very comfortable though. “Brain?”

“What?” Brain snapped.

“You’ll…you’ll still be here when I get back, right?” Pinky asked.

“I already told you, Pinky. I’m staying put. Now kindly allow me time to plan our next move.”

Pinky’s tail perked, and with a little more confidence and a skip in his step, he joined the burger line. Though the line was long, he didn’t mind. The long wait would just make the burgers tastier. He could already taste the melted cheese and sweet tomatoes.  

o-o-o-o-o

Ten minutes later, Pinky was only halfway to the counter. He tried to make small talk with the woman behind him, but she was too busy playing Candy Crush on her phone to hold a conversation. Then he tried to talk to the guy in front of him, but he had a headset on, the volume loud enough for everyone in earshot.

While Pinky wasn’t familiar with the punk rock scene, he thought the beat was pretty good, and his foot tapped along to the music.  

Another five minutes passed. Pinky was fifth in line, a gap between him and Headset Guy open so people could pass through easily.

He was close enough to the counter that he could easily hear the cashier explaining to a customer that one of the grills had gone out and they could only cook so much at a time. Was that all? Pinky didn’t see why she had to apologize for something she couldn’t help.

Pinky hummed quietly, lost in the music, occasionally glancing at the area where Brain said he’d be. Though he’d hoped Brain would keep him company in line, he knew Brain needed his rest too. It would do wonders for his dark bags and stress lines.

A high-pitched thwap-thwap-thwap made his ear flick. At first, he thought it was just an odd beat in Headset Guy’s music, but he turned it down so he could place his order. The noise continued, even when Pinky batted his ear like he was trying to clear water from his head. Something tiny and dark flitted around in the corner of his vision. Pinky looked up.

Next to the burger shop’s sign, a small black camera hovered with spinny propellors. It looked a lot like the camera that had bopped him in the head when he first met Brain. Maybe it was the same brand?

It had a silver ‘NS’ emblazoned on its side. Pinky couldn’t think of any logo that used NS.  

Oh, what if it was taking pictures? He wanted to look his best! Quickly, he adjusted the hem of his lavender blouse and posed like a supermodel walking down the red carpet. His blouse was a lovely piece of clothing after all.

The lens focused once, twice, then quickly zoomed towards the high ceiling and out of sight.

Maybe he should’ve worn a matching necklace.

“Next,” the cashier said as Headset Guy picked up his order and walked away.

His turn now! Pinky rolled up the coupons and tucked them under his arm, then climbed up a pole and onto the counter surface.

“Two burgers and fries please,” Pinky said to the cashier, whose smile didn’t reach her eyes. He slid the coupons over, and she tossed them onto a pile from previous customers. “And two waters as well. Oh, could I get those both in the kiddie cups? I really like the colors on those.”

The kiddie cups were a lovely shade of sunshine yellow with happy kiddos on them. He thought they looked nice.  

The cashier moved away without a word, mechanically filling up two colorful cups with ice and water and covering them with bright red lids. She left them by the water machine and went into the back, coming out with an almost bursting paper bag. Then she loaded it onto a paper-lined tray and pushed it towards Pinky, tossing two straws, a few ketchup packets, and a set of brown napkins onto the tray.

“Enjoy,” she mumbled.  

“Thanks!” Pinky grinned. “Oh, the waters are by the machine thingy. Troz!”

The cashier marched over to the cups, snatching them up and slamming them onto the tray with a loud bang that Pinky nearly fell off the counter in surprise. “Sorry…” she whispered, eyes downcast to the floor.

“It happens! Don’t worry. Thanks for your help!” Pinky said, but his reassurance didn’t seem to mean anything to her. She just stood there, ignoring the line’s shouts to get a move on. The woman behind Pinky didn’t seem to notice anything, her thumbs tapping away on her phone.

Pinky dragged the tray to the edge, only to run into a new problem. If he pushed the tray off, he would spill everything. And he didn’t want to drag the tray to the table either. That was just unsanitary.

“Oh…um…could you help me with the tray please?” Pinky asked. The cashier didn’t seem to notice. Pinky rubbed his neck, scuffing his foot against a taped down paper menu on the counter. “Sorry. Poit.”

Maybe one of the other mallgoers would help out? Pinky called for help to the people behind him, but nobody wanted to give up their place in line or just hadn’t heard him at all.

“Kelsey! What’s going on out there?” Another worker stomped up to the front, but when Kelsey didn’t reply, her stormy expression was quickly replaced with concern. She was an older woman with hair in a tight bun, and she struck Pinky as someone that shouldn’t be messed with. “Oh. You need a moment?”

Kelsey shook her head, staring vacantly at the wall. “Just one of those days, Paula. I’ll be fine.”  

She was definitely not okay though.

“You can take a moment if you want to. I don’t mind,” Pinky chimed in.

“What the little guy said,” Paula agreed, then shot Pinky a curious glance. “Ya need tray help? Seems a bit heavy for ya.”

Pinky nodded, stepping onto the paper-lined tray. “If you don’t mind.”

“Alright,” Paula clapped her hands, then picked up the tray and put it into Kelsey’s hands. “Kelsey, help this little guy out, then freshen up in the restroom.”

“What?” Kelsey yelped, her eyes widening to an almost comical degree. “Are you crazy? If Derek finds out-“

Paula shrugged. “Derek’s too busy cozying up to the rich jerk to ‘manage’ right now. And if he does turn up, I’ll cover ya.”

With that, she shoved Kelsey out of the workers’ area and took over her place as cashier, handling orders with ruthless efficiency.

“Narrrrf, she’s amazing,” Pinky said in awe.

“Better manager than Derek. Even without it being official,” Kelsey sighed in resignation. “Which way?”

Pinky pointed straight ahead. “Behind the sub shop. This is the first time my friend’s ever eaten a burger. I bet he’s just gonna love these!”

Kelsey didn’t press for details. She just walked ahead, balancing the tray in her hand and trying to not bump into people.

They found Brain curled up on the table, Pinky’s tail wagging on the cute little sight. Brain’s chest rose and fell, but even when Kelsey set the tray down, he didn’t respond.

Pinky was about to scold him for being rude, then he heard a high-pitched whistling sound.

He giggled. Brain was asleep and snoring again.

Though he really needed to learn not to sleep with sunglasses on. His fur would get all smushed.  

“Hey…sorry I snapped at you. And thanks.” Kelsey’s eyes were watery, and she dabbed at them with the back of her hand, trying to smile anyway.

“It’s okay!” Pinky said. “Thanks for the help. Now get yourself cleaned up and treat yourself to something nice later!”

Kelsey gave him a thumbs up and walked away.

Pinky waved goodbye until she was gone, then hopped out of the tray and gently shook Brain’s shoulders.

“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!” Pinky sang. “Before all the good eggs are gone and we’re just left with a pile of mush, Brain!”

Brain muttered something that could’ve been either ‘go away, Pinky’ or ‘lo mein, Binky’. Lo mein was definitely going on the list of foods Brain had to try. Really, how could Pinky have forgotten Chinese food of all things? It was so obvious now that he thought about it!

Instead of waking up, Brain rolled over and scratched his side.

Pinky put his hands on his hips. He needed to take more drastic measures.  

Crouching on all fours, Pinky slowly crept up to Brain, approaching him from the front to avoid being zapped by the tail orb.

Closer…just a little closer…perfect. Brain was completely unaware.

Pinky tensed his muscles, and on the count of one, two, and narf, he pounced.

“SCRIK!” Brain swore as Pinky’s hands landed on his chest. With a startled gasp, he sat up quickly, the sunglasses pushed up to his large forehead. The sudden motion made Pinky lose his balance, his head landing in Brain’s lap.

“Afternoon, Sleeping Beauty!” Pinky grinned up at his best friend.

Brain’s cheeks reddened. He pushed Pinky off, quickly hiding his eyes behind his sunglasses. He folded his arms grumpily. “I wasn’t sleeping. I was sleep-pondering. There’s a difference.”

“What’s the difference?” Pinky asked. He hopped to his feet and skipped over to the tray.

“It’s too…complicated for your feeble mind to comprehend, I’m afraid,” Brain replied. He didn’t look Pinky in the eye, focusing on the tiny print on a ketchup packet instead. “Yes. Very complicated.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Pinky nodded. He tipped the bag onto its side, dragging the burgers out by their wrappers. “You don’t know what the difference is either, do you?”  

Caught in his little fib, Brain went silent.

He ignored Pinky and unfolded one of the burger wrappers, tearing off a small piece of the bun and sampling it. Then he shrugged. Not bad, but not spectacular either. But it was the inside part of the burger that really counted.

Pinky brought out both cartons of French fries, popping a small one into his mouth. Crunchy and salty, just how fries were supposed to be.

Since the cups were bigger than both of them, Brain unwrapped the straws and punctured the lids with one end while Pinky tilted and held them in place.

Their little dining setup was complete. Though they didn’t have any scented candles, Pinky pretended there was a vanilla-scented one next to the tray, its sweet fragrance wafting in the air.

Licking his lips, Pinky unwrapped his burger and took a large chomp out of it. The taste of cheese, beef, and tomatoes flooded his mouth. “Narrrrf,” he hummed in delight, wiping away a spot of mustard on his chin. “How’s yours, Brain?”

Brain had only eaten part of the top bun so far. Instead, he pulled the contents out one at a time and took small, cautious bites. He didn’t seem to mind the mustard, and most of the ingredients he seemed to like just fine. He was indifferent to the lettuce.

Then he got his first taste of a pickle, and his antennae orbs sparked violently. Pinky laughed at the comically fast speed Brain spat out a pile of green mush. He snatched up a napkin and wiped his tongue on it, sounding very much like a cat hacking up a hairball.

“Drink some water. It’ll get rid of it faster than the napkin. And also cause you’re just gonna wind up eating whatever napkins are made out of. Trust me. You don’t want that,” Pinky suggested.

Brain took his advice, making loud slurping noises with his straw, then finally calmed down.

“Cease your laughter, Pinky,” Brain grumbled as he removed the rest of the pickles from his burger and threw them in Pinky’s direction. They landed next to Pinky’s fries. “And take these disgusting so-called edibles off my hands.”

“Will do!” Pinky tossed two pickles into his mouth. “Hey, so what’s the grossest food they had on New Selene? There’s gotta be something too icky for us poor little Earthlings to understand!”

Brain hesitated. “Perhaps I shouldn’t say. I’d hate to spoil your abnormally large appetite.”

“Never in a million billion eight hundred trozillion years!” Pinky gasped, putting a hand over his heart. He’d always wanted to do that! It was so much fun being dramatically offended.

“If you insist. But I warned you, so don’t try to claim otherwise,” Brain said.  

Pinky tore open a ketchup packet and squirted it onto the burger wrapper, then motioned for Brain to continue. Brain slid his ketchup packets over to Pinky. There were a lot of things that went on French fries, but Brain seemed to like them plain.

“Cuisine on the colony was made to be sustainable for long periods of time. Because survival was more valued, flavors and variability were often lacking. I would describe food on New Selene as more bland than outright disgusting,” Brain explained. “But to humor your question, there’s an aquatic species called dholmuth from the imperial planet which can be caught and used for food. However, it’s only attempted by the foolish or the desperate. No sane being wants to deal with a delicacy that smells like the unholy combination of fuel exhaust and rotting corpses.”

Pinky wrinkled his nose.

Brain shrugged. “I warned you.”

“Alrighty, so what’s the most delicious, positively scrumptious thing you ever ate in space?” Pinky asked.

“Rusuphri,” Brain said without hesitation. “They were in the bag you found with me.”

He looked away, the half-eaten French fry in his hand wilting along with his posture.

Pinky snapped his fingers in recognition. “Right! The blue star candies! They were very sweet. I get why you like them so much!”  

“Actually, they’re seeds, not candy, though I understand how…wait, how do you know they taste sweet?” Brain asked suspiciously. “Did you eat any from the bag?”

There was a dangerous edge in his voice.

“I…well, I ate a few that got scattered around the ship before I found you. It was a bit of a mess, really. But I never touched the bag. Honest!” Pinky held up his hands. “I’m sorry if they were important to you.”

Should he have not done that? There were so many, and they seemed so tasty. And the walk back from seeing Pharfignewton off had left him a little peckish, so he’d given into his hunger. Biting his lip, Pinky waited for the scolding that was sure to come.

Brain pushed his burger away.

It was only half-eaten.

“…Snowball found those rusuphri bags just before our departure from New Selene,” Brain said quietly. “I was going to split the remaining one with him upon our reunion. My apologies for accusing you.”

“You’re excused,” Pinky said, sighing in relief. He wasn’t going to lose his best friend over his own stupid actions. He was just grateful for that.

Pinky finished off his burger, licking the last bits of mustard off his fingers. He started on his remaining fries while Brain cleaned his hands with a napkin.

“Brain, aren’t you gonna eat the rest?” Pinky asked. “I didn’t make your tummy upset with me too, right?”

“Enough with your ridiculous notions, Pinky.” Brain shook his head, reclining against the tray’s raised edge. One hand rested across his pudgy stomach, rubbing a soothing circle into it. “I can’t eat anymore. That’s all. There was simply too much for just one sitting.”

Pinky made a loud slurping noise with his straw as he sipped his drink. “Zort! Really? This was just a small burger! Good thing they weren’t putting the largest ones on the coupon, huh?”

“Small?” Brain’s brow lifted in disbelief. “How does one categorize this meal as small?”  

Pinky pointed to a man eating a burger that was triple the size of what they had. “Ooh, so that’s the triple bacon cheeseburger,” Pinky said. It had been advertised on TV a lot as a new addition to the menu. “Looks tasty.”

Brain’s mouth flopped open, like he’d never seen food that large in his life. “Your portion sizes are messed up.”

“Thanks. It’s an American staple. Just like burgers!” Pinky exclaimed. “If you’re not gonna eat the rest, can I have it?”

Brain made no motion to stop him, so Pinky figured it was okay to take the rest. He squirted ketchup onto the bun of the half-eaten burger and dug in.

“Should I be concerned over the state of your stomach later?” Brain asked.

“Don’t worry, Brain! I can handle it easy-peasy!” he tried to say, but it came out very muffled and with bits of tomato juice spraying from the side of his mouth.

“Clearly, your stomach is not your only vital organ that bears worrying about.”

o-o-o-o-o

Once they recovered from full stomachs, they went back to finding a hat for a snowball—no wait, that wasn’t right—finding a hat for himself and Snowball for Brain. But first, they had to stop in the play area!

It was filled with plastic structures of rocks, boats, fish, and water. There was even a lighthouse and a beach! All right here in the local mall! And of course there were the screaming, playful toddlers and parents who just seemed plain bored and weren’t paying any attention to their charges.

“La-la-la-la! Don’t you wanna play too, Brain? Look, I’m king of the world! Narf!” Pinky stood atop the highest point of a plastic blue tugboat, spreading his arms wide and leaning forward. He could just feel the wind and seaspray in his face!

“Pinky, you’re posing on a child’s imitation of aquatic transport.” Brain seemed just as zoned out as the human adults around him. “And don’t mock my rightful title with your childish playtime.”

“I’m not mocking, Brain,” Pinky said. “King of the world’s just the name of this pose!”

That seemed to get Brain’s attention. He slid off the bench, barely dodging a blonde-haired toddler who seemed intent on escaping the play area altogether.

“Is that a common pose for Terran royalty?” Brain asked. He climbed up the side of the tugboat, slipping a little as he tried to grasp its smooth surface. Pinky hopped down from his perch next to the little red steam whistle and offered his hand to Brain.

After a moment’s hesitation, he took it and Pinky hauled him up.

“Not really, but it’s pretty fun to do!” Pinky said.

Brain stood at Pinky’s former place by the plastic steam whistle, and Pinky balanced in the narrow space behind him.

“It’s protocol to stand in the highest position so that one may assert superiority over the population,” Brain declared.

“Oh, that’s very good, Brain!” Pinky exclaimed. At his praise, Brain’s antennae perked. “Now spread your arms out wide like you’re giving the air a great big hug!”

Slowly, Brain spread his arms out. “And what purpose does this serve?”

“To make you look more royal of course!” Pinky said. “Though you’re more off-white in this lighting than royal blue.”

The corner of Brain’s mouth quirked up. Yes, now he saw the appeal too!

“Behold, I am the Brain! One of the future mighty kings of this world!” the shorter mouse announced, arms held triumphantly out to his sides. Below them, the children paid no mind and continued playing. The adults didn’t care either.

Well, if they didn’t know how awesome his friend was, then he’d just have to show them!

Far beyond the skylight, a cloud moved away from the sun, a beam of light shining down just in front of them. It was perfect timing!

Pinky lifted a startled Brain beneath his outstretched arms, hoisting him as high as he could.  

“IT’S THE CIRRRRRRRCLE OF LIFE!” Pinky belted out.

“UNHAND ME AT ONCE, PINKY!” Brain screamed, his feet kicking out in little circles. He suddenly lunged to the right, and he and Pinky tumbled off the tugboat.

They collided painfully with the ground. Shaking the tingly feeling away from his lower jaw, Pinky cleared the swirling stars from his vision. Brain had landed a few inches away, face-first. He groaned as he lifted his head, the left lens of his sunglasses popping out.

“This pain will surely linger,” Brain muttered. He took off the ruined sunglasses and set it aside, where it was immediately snatched up a young boy, who ran off cackling with the broken frame on the bridge of his nose. “You’ve had your fun, Pinky. It’s time we got back to-“

A faraway melody made Pinky’s ears twitch. It wasn’t coming from the play area. Then a woman started to sing about breaking up with her boyfriend, though Pinky couldn’t place the specific song. There were a lot of boyfriend and breakup songs out there.

“-and we haven’t been to the third floor yet. Perhaps there will be something of value—where’s that horrible racket coming from?” Brain scowled as the woman hit a high note that was far beyond her voice range.

But she sounded like she was having fun, and that was the most important element in karaoke!

“That’s no tennis racket, Brain! That’s karaoke!” Unable to contain himself, Pinky tucked Brain under his arm and shot off like a rocket, following the trail of music to its source, which turned out to be an electronics store.

Upon seeing all the technology behind glass, Brain’s pink eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and his demands to be released stopped instantly.

“I can’t believe you have all these devices lying around like this…” he murmured. “It pales in comparison to Selenian tech of course, but this is much more advanced than what I was expecting.”  

As much as Pinky loved playing with the apps, they were here for another reason entirely. Namely, the TV screen displaying a karaoke program just a short distance away from the entrance.

The woman who’d been singing earlier set the microphone on its stand and walked away, leaving the area up for grabs. Pinky set Brain down, and he darted away, climbing up a display table. His face scrunched up in pondering mode as he examined a smartphone much larger than he was.

Scrambling up to the microphone, Pinky spotted an open songbook nearby with a ginormous list of songs from just about every decade. Egad, there were a lot of options! How could he choose just one?

Instead of flipping through every page, Pinky closed his eyes and shut the songbook. Then he opened it to a random page, and placed his finger on a spot without peeking.

There. He’d sing whatever song this was.

He opened his eyes.

“AHHHHHH! BRAIN, I GOT A GOOD ONE!” Pinky screamed. Brain’s ears flicked in irritation, but Pinky paid no mind and inputted the matching number onto the microphone buttons. Since the mike was too big for him to hold, he swiveled it down to his level.

Best part was that his hands were free for dancing!

He hit the start button, his hips and tail swaying along to the catchy opening riff.

Ooh, see that girl! Watch that scene!

Diggin’ the dancing queen!

Pinky’s foot tapped in rhythm, and he lost himself to the melody.

He was at prom, and his all his friends were cheering him as he made his debut on the dance floor. Low lighting, a shining disco ball spinning above and creating a swirl of light circles around the venue. Everyone in handsome tuxedos and gorgeous dresses, some dancing, some eating at the buffet, and some were wallflowers shyly seeking out a dance.

He wore a beautiful floor-length pink dress, the skirt sweeping around with every graceful movement he made. A silver necklace rested just above the V-neck, a white corsage around his left wrist. And he felt absolutely beautiful.

He danced, and everyone was mesmerized. Everyone wanted to dance alongside him, and he turned no request down, because prom night was meant to be fun and he wanted to make everyone happy!

There was one wallflower who didn’t join in though. Nobody asked him to dance, and he made no invitations either. Just standing there with his arms folded against his chest. But his tuxedo was nicely pressed, a corsage pinned to his chest.

Pinky wanted to make this night magical for him too.

So he invited Brain to dance.

Brain stared at Pinky’s inviting hand. He blushed, slowly placing his hand in Pinky’s.

And dance they did. They commanded all the attention.

Pinky’s graceful movements contrasted with Brain’s sharper ones. The spotlight was on them. Their audience was captivated.

They were called to the stage. And they were crowned king and queen of the dance.

Brain gave him a genuine smile, and together they danced in celebration.

o-o-o-o-o  

He finished the song to raucous applause. When Pinky opened his eyes, he was surrounded by a crowd of people on all sides. They cheered loudly and started calling for song requests. One man took off his blue baseball cap and set it upside down next to Pinky, and the audience tossed in dollar bills and quarters.

“Egad, a hat for me?” Pinky wiped a happy tear away, flicking his hand down bashfully. “You shouldn’t have! But as my thanks for being such a lovely group, how ‘bout some song requests?”

Over the next fifteen minutes, he performed Footloose, Don’t Stop Believin’, and Accidentally in Love.

He’d drawn Brain’s attention by the end of the third song. With some difficulty, he squeezed through the packed audience and climbed up the stand where Pinky stood.

Oh, maybe they could duet together! That would just be lovely! Pinky flipped through the songbook for any duets, but Brain grabbed his snout and yanked him down before he could decide.  

“Pinky, this isn’t getting us any closer to our goal!” Brain snapped. “We can’t laze about here all afternoon!”

Pinky giggled as his nose pressed against Brain’s face. Brain reeled back in surprise, his antennae sparking when he realized how close they were.

“Narf! I’ve got my hat, Brain. I’m just singing as thanks to everyone!” Pinky said. “So I achieved my goal exactly as you said. And now I finally have a hat so I can properly root for Pharfignetwon!”

“So you did, Pinky,” Brain sighed. “A most unorthodox way of accomplishing your objective, but at least this will put you a step closer to striving towards something much larger. Now we just have to find a way to contact Snowball. Fortunately, this store may have parts that will enable me to create a tracker. The money you’ve earned should be sufficient enough.”

He gestured to the cap, which was now overflowing with cash.

“But I can have the cap?” Pinky asked.

Brain nodded. “Yes, Pinky. You may have the cap. Now, we must take our leave.”

He grabbed the cap by its brim, dragging it to the edge of the table before Pinky stopped him. “Hold on a sec, Brain,” Pinky said, tugging the cap back before Brain could push it off the edge. “Since you’re here, you wanna sing a duet with me? Please? Then we can go find Snowball together!”

Brain’s fingers tightened around the brim. “I don’t sing, Pinky. There was…no need for it on the colony. It served little importance to scientific endeavors. Besides, we came to conquer, not pursue singing careers.”

There was a tinge of…bitterness? No, not bitterness. More like embarrassment.

“Brain? Do you like music?” Pinky asked.

Brain let go of the brim and stared out into the crowd, who waited impatiently for Pinky to begin a new song. Then Brain looked down, his cheeks flushed, and he gave the tiniest of nods.

“I’m not a singer though,” Brain muttered.

“You don’t have to be to just sing,” Pinky said. “You can let loose!”

Brain shook his head. “There’s an audience here, Pinky. I’m not doing it.”

Pinky went to the songbook and flipped the pages until he found the duet he was looking for. He still really wanted to do one, but he didn’t want to make his best friend uncomfortable either. “Well, I still really wanna pick a duet, but you don’t have to sing. Just feel free to join in if you want.”

“I won’t,” Brain said stubbornly. He sat down with his back against the crowd, a short distance away from Pinky and the microphone. “But I suppose your offer is acceptable. One more song, and then we purchase the parts I need for a tracker with that money.”

“Okey-dokey, Brain. Zort!” Pinky typed in the matching number, and the song title appeared onscreen.  The songs he’d picked earlier were all high energy and fun. This one was slower, more tender.

And he really wanted to sing for Pharfignewton so she’d hear him. Horses had excellent hearing after all.

Pinky turned to the audience. “Everyone, you’ve all been great. I have to go after this, but I just wanted to dedicate my last song to my girlfriend Pharfignewton. She’s a marvelous mare who’s dreamed of winning the Triple Crown since she was just a young filly. We love each other a lot, and I miss her so much, but I know she’s gonna do great out there in the Derby!”

The crowd made sympathetic cooing noises. Several people had their phones out to record.

“And I also want to dedicate this song to a missing friend of a friend. We don’t know where he is exactly, but I just know they’re gonna be super happy when they find each other again.”

Brain gave him a surprised look, which melted into one of gratitude.

The opening notes for Somewhere Out There played. Pinky took a deep breath and poured his entire heart into the melody.

Somewhere out there

Beneath the pale moonlight

Someone’s thinking of me

And loving me tonight

Pinky caught Brain’s eye, but the alien quickly returned his gaze to the screen, which displayed a beautiful Hawaiian beach at nighttime.

He hoped Pharfignewton was thinking of him.

Pharfignewton had to be almost to Kentucky now. If she won the Derby, then she would move onto other horse races, photoshoots, and interviews. Not to mention all the eating and sleeping so she could be at her best.

Sometimes, Pinky wished she could’ve stayed. But she had a career ahead of her. And so he let her go.

And when they reunited, they’d make up for lost time.  

He sang the other singer’s part too, watching Brain in case he changed his mind. He seemed content with listening though, so Pinky let him be.  

Somewhere out there

If love can see us through

Then we'll be together

Somewhere out there

Out where dreams come true

Pinky caught his breath as the instrumental began. All this singing was making his throat dry, but he had to finish his song.

He wondered if Brain would ever introduce him to Snowball. Maybe the three of them could be besties!

The refrain started again. Pinky poured his soul into it, hoping they could find Snowball soon.

And the song drew to a close. Pinky’s throat tickled, so the last lyric was quiet rather than loud.

“…out where dreams come true.”

That was Brain’s voice. Deeper, hesitant, and whispering, but he harmonized well with Pinky’s higher vocals. Brain sang beautifully. It felt like being entrusted with a secret only the closest friends shared.

Though everyone clapped for Pinky, none of them heard Brain. The lyric was meant for him and Brain alone.

“Come, Pinky. We must make haste,” Brain said. He stood up, taking Pinky by the wrist and leading him to the table’s edge.  

“Righty-o, Brain! Bye, everyone! Love you all!” Pinky waved goodbye to their captivated audience, then grabbed the cap’s brim, dragging it along behind him.

Brain tensed, ready to leap from the table to the ground. Then a flicker of movement by the store sign caught Pinky’s attention. Was the neon sign broken? They should really fix them.

But it wasn’t a broken, blinking neon sign. The color was too dark for that.

Pinky leaned back, trying to see what the mysterious thing was. It could easily be a bird, a plane, or Superman.

He leaned too far, and instead of a graceful leap, he and Brain tumbled to the ground. All the money spilled out around them, the cap landing on top of them.

“Pinky, I don’t care if you want to fall from moderately elevated platforms, but don’t drag me down with you!“ Brain snapped as he shoved Pinky away. He crawled out from underneath the cap, flipping it upside down and tossing the spilled money inside.

“Sorry, Brain. I was just trying to see where that dark thingy went,” Pinky said, scooping up a handful of coins and dropped them into the cap. Now that their audience was gone, it was much easier to see everything.

Including the flying camera just hovering around the entrance. The mini blades whirled above the main body, which had a silvery ‘NS’ on its side.  

“Oh, that’s what I saw! Hi, Mr. Flying Camera! Narf!” Pinky waved to the flying camera, which shrank the size of its lens, almost like it was glaring at him.

“Mr. Flying Cam-“ Brain’s scoff cut short as he looked up. His pink eyes grew huge and round. “Pinky, that’s…that’s Selenian tech. The NS is a New Selene trademark.”

“A long way from home then, isn’t it?” Pinky asked.

Brain ignored Pinky’s question. Slowly, he walked towards the camera, his hand reaching out, expecting the camera to come to him.

But it flew outside the store instead, dodging any obstacles in its path.

“Come back!” Brain shouted, and he took off after the flying camera. Though he couldn’t fly himself, he dodged every foot and stroller in his dogged pursuit.  

He never noticed Pinky.

“Brain, wait for me! Brain!” Pinky yelled. But the camera and Brain turned a corner and disappeared.

He tried to drag the cap and money behind him, but it only slowed him down. He’d never catch up to them.

Unless…

“Sorry, Pharfignewton,” Pinky whispered. He ran off, leaving the desired objects behind.

Someone would find a cap and lots of money. It would make their day brighter. He found comfort with that.

o-o-o-o-o

He found Brain outside a side entrance. The alien dropped to his knees, looking up into the afternoon sky.

There was no sign of the camera anywhere.

“Brain?” Pinky said. “Where’s the camera?”

Brain’s mouth trembled as he tried to stifle a stream of tears. But they came anyway, spilling down his drooping cheeks like twin waterfalls. His eyes bored through Pinky, like he couldn’t really see him. Pinky pulled him in for a hug, gently stroking the back of his large head.

For once, Brain didn’t protest, and he clung to Pinky like a lifeline.

“Gone,” Brain choked out.

End AN: CHAPTER COMPLETE. WHOO.

Naming minor OCs is surprisingly hard to do.

I used to really love Dragon Tales as a kid so I shouted out to Dragon Land here.

I fully admit to just conveniently declaring a Free Burger Day with a coupon cause the mice don’t have money. I have god powers and I do what I want. And I declare the mice deserve burgers.

The karaoke here is a program called Magic Sing, which is what I grew up with. Trust me, Filipinos adore their karaoke. Basically, you hook the microphone to a TV, and you input a number code into the microphone to bring up a song. For instance, 0001 brings up Elvis Presley’s All Shook Up.  

Pinky has some abandonment issues.

Give them hugs. They need them.

[gagmebucky]

my first steve fic... don’t drag me about the characterization please i did my BEST and that’s all the matters, really 😌

[boxer!steve. size kink. doll.] 

His jaw ticks. “It’s not a challenge, doll,” he bites out. “It’s a warning. If I tried to get inside you, I’d split you in half in the process.” His eyes flicker down, and your nipples are pebbles against the thin, easily-rippable fabric—you’re testing him, and he’s failing. “Goddamn it,” he hisses underneath his breath. “That - that shouldn’t turn you on.” Bristling, he drops his hand and pedals backward—he’s on his last thread, and it’s his sole chance to make a clear-headed decision. 

in which steve can’t resist what he feels for you. (includes boxer!steve x coach’s-daughter!reader, steve’s pov, dirty talk, mild choking, size kink, grinding, unprotected sex, creampie kink, overstimulation.)

—

Steve Rogers has impeccable self control. He knows how to control his emotions, to maintain a clear head amid the mist of commotion, to command his body to follow his head and not the violent, primal instincts that prickle underneath his skin. 

And despite the lifelong effort required to uphold this principle, he’s found great fortune in the endeavor. Most don’t realize it, but in his occupation, there’s a certain level of restraint necessary in order to be successful. He has experienced it on both ends so he’s aware of just how important it is. 

Growing up, he hadn’t known better. In the numerous instances where he’d been provoked and pushed, he gave in; consequently, suffering gravelly. Knuckles split, bones broken and face bloodied, his anger got the better of him, and his opponents always got the benefit. 

But that’s where your father came in, and showed him the way to fight back and win every time, to redirect his mania into his fists and funnel them in tactful blows that resulted in trophy after trophy. Once Steve learned how to do that, everything became a breeze. It’s more than a combat style but a way of living. 

Ultimately, he gets what he wants because he can make logic-based decisions and utilize his visceral drive in executing them. And a wallet fat with unmatched winnings, a house for his family and a luxurious apartment of his own, his name on the lips of the masses, it’s a fucking amazing life—for the most part, anyway. 

Except for the one part: you.

The problem with self control, he has come to realize, is that when he truly desires something, he sees the cons of that thing. Usually, if it outweighs the pros, he’ll stop it before it begins. However, in the case of you, that formula isn’t working like it’s supposed to. 

You see, he knows he can’t have you, and he knows why. You are the daughter of his mentor, the only child of the single reason that he’s evolved into the East Coast’s Golden Glove Champion three times in a row, and pursuing you is beyond disrespectful. 

So why the fuck can’t he get you out of his head? 

That’s what he keeps asking himself. Another glorious win, and it won’t stop rattling inside his skull like a hammer on a gong. The crowd is chanting his name but yours is beating a tattoo inside his rib cage. The post-win rush surges through his veins and hits harder than any blows he’s ever received but spotting the proud tilt of your lips amongst the masses is like punch from God themself.

His clean-shaven jaw locks as the referee lifts his right arm and everyone goes wild, losing your face in the fanfare. This is the part where he basks in it, where he loses himself in the victory of sweat and blood slick across his skin; money and recognition, a reminder of the advantages of self-discipline; his reward of what he gets when he uses his brain and not the urges that prickle underneath his skin. 

This time, however, it’s not as gratifying as it’s supposed to be. No, it’s fucking agitating because instead of being the thing that gets him what he wants, it’s the obstacle in his way. 

He can’t pin-point exactly why the desire is striking him this intensely but he suspects it has something to do with the fact that you’ve just returned after a while, and your father is still gone—which means you’ll be upstairs in the gym’s apartment, alone, when he comes to see you (and he will come and see you, what’s the quote about looking and not touching?). 

The tension in his muscles advises his better judgement not to. The wild thump thump thump of his heart to the tune of your name dictates he find some other not-forbidden girl to release the mania coiled inside him before he does; that, it’s not like you’d mind he greet you in the morning—in fact, you’d understand. 

Except, he feels like a live wire right now, and there’s a pull inside him that feels like you’re the only thing that can fray his edges back into stability. 

You’re on the counter when he walks in. Barefoot, you’re kneeling on the flat surface to reach a high shelf in one of the kitchen’s cabinets. One arm stretched above your head, you blindly search for the contents for a cup, palm slapping against wood as you do. After seconds of failure, a cutely disgruntled noise leaves your throat, and you shuffle up to your toes. 

For a moment, he’s entranced by the display. A smile quirks the corner of his lips, running his gaze down the outline of your figure. Adorned in a tank top and ass-hugging jeans, there’s not a flaw in sight; other than his hands not on you, exploring every inch, crushing your body against his. Oh, that and you’re about to fall. 

“Oomph!” expels in a feminine grunt when you flail backwards and collide with the cushion of his embrace. His forearm hooks around your waist like an anchor and packs you against his chest before gently sliding you down his body to the safety of the ground. In doing so, momentarily, he’s caught up in how you feel against him, your back huddled into his front like puzzle pieces.

Everything about him is big, and it occurs to him that everything about you is small. His herculean stature dwarfs yours: six-foot of towering strength versus your soft, shorter frame. You barely require an ounce of strength to be lifted, and his blood rushes to his lower region with what he can do with that knowledge. 

Subconsciously, he tightens his hold until you tilt your head back to blink up at him with those enamoring big eyes. With that, he snaps out of his daze and relinquishes you with a quiet, “Sorry.” Before you can respond, he reaches beyond to grab the item of your desire and hands it over.

Your lashes flutter. “Thanks, killer,” you breathe cheekily as you accept it, the delayed rise and fall of your decolletage slowly regulating. You step out of his space. leaving him cold in your wake, and pad over to the sink with your back to him. “You did good out there, by the way.”

At the praise, his smile restores, and he inches toward you. “Just good?” he echoes after you’ve turned the faucet on and off and crosses his arms in faux offense.

Lips curled around a drink of water, you whirl around and finish a swig. Droplets glisten on your Cupid’s bow, and he swears you’re doing this on purpose when your pink tongue licks the liquid clean. “Do you really need little ‘ole me feeding your ego?” you tease and lean against the counter. 

“You are little,” he agrees with a perfunctory nod. 

You roll your eyes playfully and set the half-full cup down. “No. You - you’re just huge.” You gesture pointedly at his broad, muscle-laden build; dragging your stare down his squared shoulders to his defined abdomen to the tree trunks he has for thighs. An airy quality lingers in your voice, almost high pitched, as you add, “I don’t understand how your competitors don’t go running for the hills when they see you.” 

Taking another stride forth, head cocking, he observes you. There’s something in your expression he can’t quite explain but it pumps confidence into his blood. He glances at himself, white under armor t-shirt and gray sweats, but there’s no downplaying the physical strength he possesses. “You think I’m intimidating?”

You scoff and shake your head vehemently. “To other people, yeah. Me? Not so much.” A devious grin curves into those alluring lips of yours, and you straighten against the counter (not that it helped any with the height difference). “I could take you better than any of those losers you’ve gone against.” 

He laughs, husky and genuine. “Oh? Is that what you think?”

You stand your ground and encroach upon him, stabbing a finger into his chest. “It’s what I said, isn’t it?” 

Alarm bells ring between his ears, but he’s too lost in the beautiful arrogance on your face to listen. “Okay,” he says then backs up to the middle of the room where space is more ample and beckons you over with both hands. “C’mon then.” 

As he expected, you don’t back down. You smooth your hand through your hair and kick off the bottom cupboard. Rolling your shoulder, you enter his orbit; a friendly competitiveness gleams in your dilated pupils, darkening enough for him to notice beneath the kitchen’s warm-toned luminences. 

Your stance is nothing less than perfection (much like the rest of you). Orthodox, you project your right side but spread your weight evenly through both legs; a smidge wider than your shoulders, you bounce on the balls of your feet. Hands in a loose fist, your elbows are drawn together, and your chin tucks, looking up at him through your knitted eyebrows. 

There’s no question about your combative ability but his just more developed—given this is what he does for a living—so while you’re fast and your punches twist like it comes straight out of the textbook, he has the upper hand. 

In a half-hearted demeanor, he humors you. For a moment, the both of you encircle each other, him with a suppressed smile, you with concentrated brows. Like lightning, you advance on him and push through a superlative jab. But as quick as you are, he’s quicker. 

Deftly dodging your knuckles, he catches your dainty wrist. A squeal escapes your throat as he wrenches it behind your lower back. The swift action draws your body against his once again; the dull ridges of your back molds so close to his front that he knows you can feel the hammer of his heart beating an imprint between your shoulder blades. 

You wiggle briefly, and he has to bite down on a groan at the faint jean vibrations against his sweats, but you eventually relax with a long whine of, “No fair!” 

“You said—”

“Not what I meant,” you interject breathlessly, a salacious underlying in the words that he can no longer play oblivious to—dawning on him in a gut-clenching heat. “When I said I could take you, Rogers, I wasn’t talking about in a fight. Though, I won’t mind if we got a little violent. . .”

His breathing hitches. “I knew it.” A truth he long-buried—the strike of realization he avoided confronting in an attempt to hinder his own feelings—hurtles in his rib cage as he unwillingly accepts the reality you want him in the perverse idiosyncrasy he wants you. That beastly part of him roars in ravenous elation while his practiced erudition advises you in a low and pained plead, almost a groan, “You gotta stop.” 

With a breezy laugh, a twinkling song of laughter, you repeat a doubtful, “Stop?” and do the exact opposite. Your body careens into him, specifically your ass grinding encouragement against the hardening bulge in his pants. “Doesn’t feel like you want me to.” 

You’re right. “I don’t.” The reply rumbles through his chest and wrenches out strangled. The grip on your wrist increases before vanishing altogether. “But you’re Coach’s daughter, and out of all the things not to do, you’re number one on that list.” 

Freed, you twirl around and retain the lack of distance. You look up at him with unwavering seduction. “When you’re looking at me like that, does that really matter anymore?” 

Again, you’re right. But that’s not the issue—not the prevailing one, that is. “I’ve thought about you a million different ways but in reality, I’d break you,” he admits in a ragged exhale and licks his bottom lip. Another analytical once-over confirms his deduction; your danity frame clashing with his would be something beastly. “How would your daddy react knowing I ruined his pretty little girl?”

To his pleasure and displeasure, it doesn’t dissuade your attraction. No, it seems to have heightened it instead. “Is that a promise?” you ask, lust scintillating in your eyes like moonlight on the ocean, and he has to recoil away because you’ve got too much power over him with a look like that. “Steve—” 

Your hand grapples his before he can get far, an earnest strength he doesn’t have to bat an eyelash at. But it’s that—another reminder of your size differences and how easily he could bend and fold you to his liking—that has a carnal current torrenting from the depths of his soul, demanding an innate action. 

On impulse, he lurches forward with an inhuman growl and herds you backward until his hips are trapping yours against the counter edge. His hand wraps around the column of your neck, partially spanning your jaw to tilt upwards. 

“In every one of those fantasies, I use you like a rag doll—fast and rough, never gentle. And you wanna know why? ‘Cause you’re fuckin’ small and it’s the only possible way for me to fuck you,” he rasps, strained and serious, imploring you to understand the gravity of his words. “That’s in the case, that I can even fit inside you in the first place. So, you may say you can handle me but the truth is, you wouldn’t be able to take just one of my fingers.”

The speech is to deter you; invoke some common sense in that intelligent brain of yours because all of his is withering by the second. In lieu of his intention, it excites you further. Your pulse races against his palm but the flames in your gaze tell him it isn’t from fear. “You seem so sure about that but. . . but I don’t think so,” you purposely goad that volatile and competitive aspect of him. “Why don’t we try and see who’s right?”

His jaw ticks. “It’s not a challenge, doll,” he bites out. “It’s a warning. If I tried to get inside you, I’d split you in half in the process.” His eyes flicker down, and your nipples are pebbles against the thin, easily-rippable fabric—you’re testing him, and he’s failing. “Goddamn it,” he hisses underneath his breath. “That - that shouldn’t turn you on.” Bristling, he drops his hand and pedals backward—he’s on his last thread, and it’s his sole chance to make a clear-headed decision. 

“No,” you state simply, following after him. “I - I think you’re scared. I think you don’t want to admit that someone as small as me could take you so easily—and I mean easy—where everyone else fell to their knees.” A coy smirk upturns the corner of your lips. “Though I also wouldn’t be opposed to getting on mine right now.” 

That’s it. The last shred of ascetic lessons from the past six years bursts into ash. The fire ignites an unhinged frenzy, tunneling into his veins and coursing through his blood like the water of a previously dammed river now freed of placating obstruction. 

With unrestricted strength, Steve hauls you into his arms, cording underneath your ass and hoisting you high around his abdomen. In a gnashing kiss, he crushes his lips against yours. There’s no delay in your response, returning his passion in a rivaling degree. 

That formerly-leashed, hedonistic entity within him preens from its shackles and livens with unhinged reign. Electricity crackles underneath his skin and tingles violently in feral need. Every filthy imagining he’s conjured of you strobes through his mind, and he feels like a man who hasn’t eaten in years, and you’re the delectable T-bone steak he gets to devour. 

You moan into his mouth, a pretty vibration he swallows, as he laps up your taste. The musical sound, the way you explode on his tongue, it all goes to his head like a hit off a drug and slithers down his spine to the ache in his cock. 

His hips snap forward, and his grasp on you intensifies; clutching your ass, he’s rocking your center into his cotton-clad erection roughly. Shards of pleasure ricochet through him, but it’s not enough—he needs more, needs more of your titillating sounds, more of your body on his, of you coming undone because of him, you making him fall apart. 

As you writhe against him with breathy sounds, he sets you on the counter and goes for your pants. Logic evades him at this point—like the fact it’d be the same amount of time with less effort it’d be if he slipped off—and his hands tear the denim material down the middle. Using little effort, he continues to remove what separates you, doing away with your panties next. All the while, you’re gasping in surprise and possibly outrage but he can’t focus on that right now. 

“You don’t understand,” he speaks laboredly, shoving his sweats to his knees to reveal he’s gone commando. “How bad I’ve wanted you. How hard it was—how hard you make me—to keep from myself taking you in every disgusting way I dreamed about.” 

Slicked with precum, his veined manhood is just as thick as it is long; past lovers have gawked at the formidable steel, shying away immediately after, and he’s always understood that. But you, you look at him starry-eyed, licking your bottom lip like you want him exploding on your tongue. 

And as much as he’d marvel at the sight of your cheeks stuffed like chipmunk with his cock— has thought how hot it’d sound when you’re gagging relentlessly around him—he’s got his attention lasered on that tiny prize between your thighs. 

A teasing triangle of perfection, daring him to completely abuse and batter as he pleases. You’re glistening like diamonds in the sunlight, effectively blinding him in a bind of corporeal desire—there’s no thinking, only action; no right or wrong, just what he wants.

His hands pinch underneath your knees and slide you to the edge. In tandem, he slots himself flat against your weeping heat, squishing the length of his cock between the split of your slit, burrowing himself there as if it’s his new home. 

Mutual moans and shivers expel through you both. It’s better than he’s ever imagined; mentally-created experience has nothing on the raw reality. Soft like silk, the honeyed aperture of your sex is eclipsed by his tanned thickness, barely shrouding a third of him, his tip twitching at your navel, and it’s a snapshot to behold. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he rasps, jaw locking before he reels you tighter and snaps his hips forward, rutting against your throbbing clit. It’s the match that starts the fire, a million sparks prickling all over that has him taking you like a madman. 

“S - Steve!” you cry, music to his ears, as he hooks his elbows under your knees, bending them over his shoulders, and works your divided folds up and down the length of his translucent-white dribbling cock. Your arms shoot around his neck desperately while you bury your face in his neck, mewling into his collarbone; the vibration unmistakably his name. 

“I am going to fuck you, doll,” he promises through gritted teeth, using his hands palming your ass to grind your little pussy into him harshly, at the same time his hips rock into the assault. “I am going to shove every inch of my cock inside you, make it fit if you can’t. But first—first, you’re going to cum on my cock then you’re going cum around it.” 

Your weight is nothing to his hulking strength, bouncing you in undulation like you’re his own personal fuck-toy (somewhere in that darker, aggressive facet of him chides that’s exactly what you are; a wanton toy to use to his desire). 

Every upward thrust is grating over your bundle of nerves, coaxing gush and gush of your essence. Mixed with his own liquid arousal, it further lubricates his slippery anatomy and empowers quicker ministrations—filling the room with your crescendos of whimpers and moans. 

“Y’like it when I make your pretty lil’ pussy grind against my cock? When the tip rubs over your soft clit?” he says, winded, in your ear as you shake like a leaf in the steel cage that is him. “Or d’you like knowing despite how bad I need to be balls-deep inside you I have to wait ‘cause your tiny pussy won’t be able to take it yet?” 

“Oh. God. Steve—” you moan, raking your nails into his flexing back muscles, and he revels in the faint sting. “I - I—it feels good. Fuck, it feels so good.”

Shocks needle down his spine and gnaw in his lower stomach while static nibbles at his limbs; a prelude to a knee-buckling reckoning. “Y’gonna cum for me, beautiful?” He can feel the tautness constricting in your body, the crook of your calves as your toes curl. “Want you to. Wanna know what’s gonna happen when you do?” He doesn’t wait for a response, especially when you’re borderline incoherent. “It’s gonna loosen you up for me. Get your pussy prepared to take all of my big, fat cock. And, you fuckin’ will. Y’hear me?” 

At that point, he’s unsure whether you nodded or not because your head does bob, but so does the rest of you. His neck muffles your cry as you buck wildly against him, and if that isn’t telling enough, he can feel your engorged nub pulsating with euphoria. 

And he can’t resist it. The threat of his violent upcoming orgasm; the fact that he knows your channel is clamping down hallowly; the earlier declaration of being able to handle him easily, it all overwhelms him. 

In a millisecond, before his mind comprehends what his instincts are doing, his hands slip from underneath your bottom to either side of your slit, and his thumbs spread your opening. He heaves you up, and when gravity brings you down, his well-endowed cock drives into your spasming insides. 

With an audible wet slush and slap of skin, he powers through your channel harshly until he’s seated to the hilt. In the throes of your orgasm—before he could stretch you first like he intended—inches that outwardly reached your belly button, width that dwarfed your mound  invades your walls in one blunt movement. 

The orgasm is still flooding you but it’s combined with the convulsions of vanquished hollowness and encompassing fullness. To be perfectly fucking honest, it’s heaven: snug, fervid heaven. And he wastes no time losing himself in you, fucking you through your stimulation while you’re rendered to a babbling mess.

“Oh - oh, my—Steve!” you squeal as your rubber-band-like resistance desperately tries to accommodate the intrusion of his size. “Big—you’re big—I didn’t realize you were so b - big—” 

“But you’re going to take it, aren’t you? Said you could, swore you’d handle me like no other before, right?” he croons and continues to decimate your swollen valley. “I told you you’d cum on my cock and around it, and that’s what you’re gonna do.” The order has your strangling heat fluttering in delight. “Unless you aren’t as big and bad as you claimed to be.” 

You gasp and cling tighter. “I can - I can,” you whimper, and it’s so cute—he can’t wait to fuck you until you pass out. “Just a minute. I can’t cum yet—n - not yet.” 

He laughs huskily because he knows he’s gonna to make you do exactly that. “Yeah, we’ll see about that, doll,” he practically purrs and cinches you closer so with each pass of his hips, your sensitive clit is chafing against his pubic bone; it has the intended effect of forcing your swollen walls to quiver around him.

“Shit,” you choke. “I can’t - I can’t—”

Motivated by your disbelieving insistence, he reaffirms his grip and pistons through your folds quicker. He ebbs deeper and deeper with the combination of his hips ramming in and his hands controlling your body so your channel swallows him all the way. 

Rising sensations pulse within him at an alarming rate, numbness climbing up his toes to cover him completely, encasing his nerves with an escalating bliss. In a minute, he’s going to blow and empty the contents of his balls into your never ending, clamping depths—and he can’t wait to see your reaction when he does, what it’ll look like to have his thick white dribbling out of you. 

That thought spurs him on, and he abruptly props you on the kitchen counter. There’s no break for your used pussy as he slithers a free hand to fist your throat, laying you flat against the cold granite.

“You are gonna cum for me,” he growls, voice unrecognizable with animalistic carnality. The sheening and flushed exertion on your face, the moans vibrating up your esophagus and the wriggle of your body is mesmerizing and provoking. “And you’re going to make me cum while you do it. Your tiny pussy is gonna milk my big cock until I’m flooding you full of me.”

He ruffles your shirt up and out of the way, giving him a glimpse of the single hottest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. As his hips jut back and forth, the indent of his bulbous tip prods visibly from your stomach; he can see himself bulging low in your belly. 

He releases the unholiest of groans as lightning zaps through him, tactfully shocking his pressure points while his blood pumps to his dick, and he swells bigger inside you. The temperature is boiling to the top, and when your warbling voice breaks into his haze, “Steve—Steve—Steve—!” his eyes snap open. 

His gaze drags further down, he’s greeted with the eyeful of your exploited mound: puffy and swollen from his unyielding, punishing onslaught, your clit peaking through faintly as if beckoning for his touch. Of course, he obliges you—he has zero idea how he managed to deny himself of you in the past. 

The second he thumbs at the little nubbin, you’re sobbing his name and squelching around his cock. In a domino effect, the lava blasts from the bottom of his gut to your enveloping convulsions; sheathed to the hilt, a visual ingrained in his memory of his cockhead pushing up inside your stomach, he pours all the mania he’s kept locked away into you. 

Riding out the wave, he watches how you cream around him when he retreats from you. A ring of clear white contrasts against your bruised sex and his tanned length, the mix of your essences oozing down his balls and onto the floor. 

“Fuck,” he says hoarsely. “That’s hot.” 

There’s a periodic twitch of you, and he glances up to see you staring at him, glossy-eyed but undoubtedly satisfied. “You. . . that was. . . God,” is all you manage, and pride blooms in his chest—at the fact that you kept up, and at the fact he did you good. “You’re amazing.” 

“You did good, doll,” he speaks roughly, the hand around your throat tracing your pulse. “I couldn’t have thought of a better way for this to have gone. . .” Despite his recent orgasm, there’s a hunger clawing back to the surface as he observes the way you’re splayed out like an offering, fucked to the point of limpness. “Or, to be going. . .” 

“S - Steve,” you whimper but it isn’t a protest, far from it, he can tell. 

So he continues to trail his hand to your clit, encircling it while you give a half-hearted bleat. He rakes his teeth over his bottom lip and maneuvers his hips until his growing semi is teasing your cum-dripping entrance. “Y’said you could handle me, doll,” he murmurs and promptly glides right back into you, and a wanton cry tears from your lips. “Let’s see how true that is.” 

[masterlist / feedback]

[samwrights]

I’m sorry but ukai with a breeding kink😳yes PLEASE

I swear I saw another ask that asked for Ukai with an impreg kink

*ahem* anyways—WOW this one was a doozy but holy shit did I have fun writing it. 11k words you guys. 11. K. It is a lot so grab some cocoa or coffee and a blanket because this is a read. It even has to be split into two parts because I hit the fucking text limit, BUT this also means there is no actual smut in this portion. You can find that here.

If you guys need some ear candy, I recommend the following:

Day N Nite (Crooker’s Remix) by Kid Cudi

Pursuit of Happiness (Extended version with Steve Aoki) by Kid Cudi

Breaking Me by Topic

C’Mon by Ke$ha

Flannel by The Cardboard Swords (it has to be sad somewhere)

Magic in the Hamptons by Social House

Fun fact: Ke$ha was actually the primary inspiration for this fic and for DJ!Ukai. God bless her.

Warnings: language, nicotine and alcohol consumption, implied drug use, implied emotionally abusive relationship, breeding/impreg kink, dirty talk, rough sex, risky sex, road head, slight dub-con, praise, multiple smut scenes, 3rd person POV reader-insert—because the word ‘you’ just didn’t seem to fit.

Without further ado, please enjoy the filthy depths of my brain followed by a relatively happy ending that I’ve titled, “Between the Lines’” :-)

“You’ve been more tired lately, and you’re showing up right when practice starts. Is everything okay?” Was the question that Takeda had asked Ukai Keishin that haunted him for years to come. Sure, he had wanted to gain more independence from his parents, wanted to start being more adult-like and take over the mortgage and the bills so his parents could finally rest. At the age of twenty-six, it seemed like a good idea at the time. With four years passing, however, Keishin was so damn tired, but it wasn’t like he could just stop working.

He was still tending to crops every morning, tending to the shop, coaching for Karasuno, but in the four years time, he had adopted one more job on the weekends—Ukai Keishin was a local nightclub DJ. He’d discovered the job opportunity one fateful night that he was out with his friends from the neighborhood association. To this day, he was still unsure of why he was approached with the job, especially considering he didn’t know the first thing about being a DJ, but the woman who had offered him the position had taught him everything he needed to know.

It turned out that he had a natural affinity for the position, seeing as he was still at it years later under the alias Spira. Ukai kept telling himself that he would quit the gig eventually because there was no way he could continue working four jobs—it was inhuman and the money didn’t even really matter to him. Okay, that last one is a lie; his DJ gig has been a substantial contributor to his savings funds to the point where he was even able to afford a newer, larger, (and slightly) used SUV in full compared to his tiny, old yellow beater. Even his mortgage bills were starting to look less daunting with the current cash flow.

Who needs sleep anyway? Ukai survived and thrived off of nicotine and caffeine anyway. Besides, sleep was the last thing on his mind whenever he set foot into the club. It was impossible to think of anything other than the writhing bodies of sweaty, young adults that were already drunk or high or were practically fucking each other with their clothes on. Perhaps that was part of the reason Keishin felt the need to quit this job—he was envious. Envious of the fact that he never got to indulge in his youth like these kids did; he started working and helping his family out right away after college. Sure, he went out here and there, but these twenty-something-year-olds were living their best life, while he was thirty and catering to their whims.

To say he was a bit bitter would be an understatement.

Bitterness aside, however, it did him good to see the youth enjoying exactly that—their youth. They got to do as they pleased between exams and becoming functioning members of society and, while he was jealous, Ukai was proud to be able to contribute to their pleasure.

He’d arrived to the club early, as he often did, to try to grab a drink before he was due for stage time. Ukai was thankful the bartenders knew him enough that he didn’t have to verbally order considering the music was too loud to hear him in the first place. A rum and coke manifests itself in a small, plastic cup that the blonde raises in thanks before weaving and bobbing around the various partygoers. For the most part, he’s successful in dodging the flailing bodies as he mutely notes the very upbeat remix of some female pop artist playing.

But only remotely successful as Keishin attempts to salvage his drink from spilling as he raises it over his head as one of the partygoers is pushed into him. “Hey, careful!” He snaps toward the younger, [hair color]ed woman. She only looks half-offended by the scolding, but otherwise unperturbed. If anything, the dominating expression on her face was confusion.

“Coach Ukai?” He’s surprised to hear both his given name and his title, let alone coming from a club patron, as they all knew him as Spira. Recognition slips his mind entirely—he’s never met this girl in any way that he can remember. Certainly, he would never forget crossing paths with this beauty, even if she was dressed in a similarly juvenile fashion to the other ravers. Tight crop top tee cinched together by a knot at the midriff, with army green high-waisted shorts attempting to cover the bare skin, face painted with makeup, glitter, and sweat; even underneath the garb, she brought forth no recollection. “Uh, d-do you remember me?” It’s a challenge to hear over the music, but she presses forward close enough that her lips are right in Keishin’s ear.

“Can’t say that I do,” he yells right back into hers.

“Karasuno class of twenty-twelve, I was Sugawara’s girlfriend.” Oh.

Oh.

Now he remembered, vaguely, but he doesn’t ever remember her looking like this. The last four years had been incredibly kind to her, in more ways than one. Back in her Karasuno days, [name] had always looked pleasant, for lack of better term. But there was always a lifeless, matted, dull glaze to her eyes that screamed she was searching for something more. While it was still somewhat present, there was a substantial joyous air around her. It looked good on her. However, as much as Ukai wanted to stay and admire, he had to go get set up for the evening. Or rather, that was the excuse he used when he said he would catch her after the show. “[name], did you know who that was?” The woman in question gives a nod, confused at the sudden star struck gawks that her friends held.

“Uh, yeah? My ex-boyfriend’s volleyball coach?”

“No dude, that was the DJ, Spira.”

“What?”

Being the closing act meant a lot of different things to Ukai Keishin. On the negative spectrum, it meant he was going to have to tend to crops as soon as he finished cleaning up his set. That also meant he wasn’t going to get to go to bed until nearly eight in the morning after his shift at the farm. Yet, for him, the positives greatly outweighed the negatives. For Keishin, watching the audience lose themselves in euphoria, albeit probably a drug-induced one, just hit different for him. It was a sense of satisfaction that only came from a select few activities, with coaching volleyball being the other major contributor. There was just something about the way the crowd was overwhelmed and screaming the second underground remixes of old Kid Cudi tracks with his own twists overtook the speakers that granted Keishin a sense of enlightenment.

For him, being a DJ allowed an audience to flow and vibe with the journey of his life and all its constant up and down motions while under the guise of anonymity. As Spira, Ukai opened up the complexity and conflicting feelings of his inner mind and brought it to fruition through his mixes. He felt that in his soul, he’d done his art of storytelling justice. The audience felt it. Hell, his mom at home probably felt it. Perhaps it was one of the main reasons this dingy, hole-in-the-wall club kept asking him to come back every weekend.

His mind wanders further as he clutches an electronic cigarette in his hand, mixing beats on the turntable while taking hits of nicotine in between. He wonders if the girl he had ran into just a few minutes prior had been frequenting here as often as he had. Then, thinking back to what little information she supplied earlier, Ukai’s mind drifts off to the former third-year setter from when he first started coaching. Sugawara was a nice boy with a firm, almost parental, hand that walked dangerously along the lines of being a partner and being a control freak. When it came to his relationship, things had to go his way. And while his girlfriend that came to every tournament was much more outspoken yet easy going, she was opinionated and didn’t shy from confrontation.

Now that the coach had given it more thought, it was a wonder that one tolerated the other at any point in time. If anything, Ukai imagines the two of them would typically be at each other’s throats. From the few times he had interacted with her, she was always more free spirited and couldn’t be weighed down by any one else’s opinion, but seeing her now was different—she was in her element in the dingy, dark club with the glitter on her cheekbones refracting light off of her face. There was laughter and true, unabashed joy on her face. She had a light of her own—like she was ray of sunshine in the center of a storm.

Three hours past midnight when the club closed was always Keishin’s sign to leave, regardless of the countless attempts to attend the after party he’d been invited to. He had to go to work, after all. Sure, a part of him had always been a little green with envy at all the DJs that got to hook up with club patrons after, but after being at this gig for a few years, he figured that the right girl for him would eventually come to him if he continued working on himself. After all, he didn’t want to just have a string of one night stands with a bunch of fresh adults that could barely function after the small drop of Malibu rum—he was too old for that.

“Uh, coach?” [name] felt strange calling him that, but she didn’t feel familiar enough with him to address him otherwise. He was halfway in his car, the blonde ready to leave for the weekend to go back to his regular day-to-day work. “You coming to the after party?” [name] asks when Keishin only looks at her in question, cigarette hanging betwixt his dry lips.

“No, I actually have to go to work right now.”

“Oh,” she doesn’t mean to express her disappointment, but it slips anyway, “guess I’ll catch you later then?”

“Uh, yeah.” A tight lipped hybrid of a pained grin and grimace crosses her wet, gloss covered lips. Without another word, Ukai closes his car door, a little more brusquely than he intended to, before backing out and leaving the young woman to her own devices. His mind wanders once again with him humming absentmindedly to the soft acoustic punk playing over the car radio. His eyes are focused on the passing greenery, the cars that are weaving and bobbing off the freeway—hell he even noticed the way the tendrils of the sun are just barely starting to peak over the horizon because it reminded him of her. A thought he banishes immediately because he feels creepy for even thinking that.

Yet no matter how much scenery flitted through his honey eyes, his mind keeps traveling back to one thing, or rather one person, only.

Goddammit.

On Monday’s practice, Ukai Keishin’s mind is flooding and drowning in memories of his first year as the volleyball club’s coach. It was as if his mind was coercing him to attempt to reach out to the girl that plagued his mind for the last forty-eight hours or so. Though, he had no way of contacting her. Instead, with every step along the wooden floors, he can remember the way she would walk Suga to practice, almost physically seeing her standing in the doorway to kiss the third-year setter goodbye. As if he could see her sitting underneath the third window from the left, quietly doing homework and exchanging small talk and airy laughter with Kiyoko and Daichi. As if he could see the same sunny smile she gave in the audience from Saturday night at the club between the lines of the woodwork in the floorboards.

It was a repeating pattern day in and day out that was beginning to make Ukai question his sanity.

“Hey, man,” his assistant coach and fellow Karasuno alumni, Tsukishima Akiteru, places a hand on his shoulder and looks at him in worry. “Are you okay? You’ve been out of it all week.” In what world did a week translate into three days, the older blonde coach didn’t know.

“I’m fine, just tired,” Keishin all but bites back. He didn’t want to admit his conscious had been running rampant with thoughts of a girl he’d briefly met at a club. It felt almost as disturbing and perverted as it sounded in his mind.

“The team’s worried about you. Why don’t you take an early weekend and get some rest? We’ll see you back on Monday, yeah?” Normally, Ukai would have vehemently refused. However, his circumstances were far from normal and he was gracious for an assistant coach he trusted wholeheartedly to do the work that needed to be done. And so, Ukai heeded Akiteru’s advice and went home before practice even began on Thursday afternoon.

It was slightly disorienting for him to go home and nap, but he was incredibly thankful for the gift. Waking up just before he was technically supposed to start his shift at the shop, Keishin jumps into a cold shower to bring him to life before heading downstairs. A bellowing yawn passes his lips through his teeth as he starts his evening. Maybe his team was right—he really did need a break. Thankfully, he knew that the second the doors to the Sakanoshita were locked, he was done for the evening and wouldn’t need to reawaken until three the following morning. Just a few more hours until then, he thought.

With it being a slower evening as well, Ukai was able to kick his feet up on the counter as he always did, pull open the newspaper from earlier in the morning and casually flip through. Briefly, he considers giving up one of his four jobs because this was something he missed doing. But consideration aside, he was far too in love with the cash flow and the thought of paying off his mortgage to entertain the thought for long. Maybe one day, he would finally sell the Sakanoshita store or quit helping on the farm—

“You still work here?” Huh. Her voice sounds different when it isn’t drowning under the speakers of a nightclub.

“I do own this place, you know.” Ukai snarks at the woman who’d been consuming his brain for the last week. She looks different without glitter reflecting off of her unreal cheekbones or the heavy layers of foundation and eyeshadow. Even more than before, Keishin definitely recognized [name] now. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Shopping,” she snorts as if it were the most obvious thing, “why else would I be at a store?”

“Dunno, maybe you’re just here to see me.” Ukai responds without skipping a beat, turning the page of the paper to play into his guise that he wasn’t the slightest bit surprised at [name]’s presence.

“Uh...actually...” her voice is quiet, prompting the coach to quirk a brow and fold up the paper he was now pretending to read. It wasn’t like he could focus on anything right now outside of the woman standing before him, spearated only by a thin counter. Without talking again, his brown eyes lock with hers, silently goading for her to continue speaking. “I-I just...I don’t know. It was just really weird to see you at the club and then to find out that you’re Spira on top of that. I haven’t seen anyone from Karasuno since I graduated and—“

“Woah, kid, breathe.” Ukai interrupts her before she can continue spewing word vomit at a hundred miles an hour. “So what if I’m Spira? Though, you better not tell anyone that. My stage name is a secret between us, alright?” For a moment she’s quiet, gears turning in her head. The secrecy didn’t make sense to her because, if anything, he should be proud of the fact that he’s rather well known in the underground electronica scene. Or at least, she was in his stead, because [name] would have been proud of Ukai regardless of whatever occupation he held.

She supposed it came with the territory of having an unrequited crush on the coach years ago, that continued well beyond high school and even university, back when she was still dating Sugawara Koushi. It was the reason she had even bothered to come sit in on his practices and partially the reason she would come to his tournaments and matches. Not that she didn’t want to be supportive of her then-boyfriend—it would have been a fight had she not—but seeing the hot older coach was definitely a bonus in her book. “But why?” She offers, not wanting conversation to end despite her not having actually bought anything.

“If the school ever caught wind of me doing that, I could lose my position as the coach. Some shit about Karasuno’s image or whatever.” [name] gives a small nod, fidgeting subconsciously, as an attempt to shake her nerves and anxiety, by sifting through various candy bars that were in front of her before grabbing her favorite. Without a second thought, she peels the wrapper before placing the candy between her lips, the puffy pink skin greatly contrasting the chocolate coating. “Ya gonna pay for that, kid?” Ukai irks, his honey brown eyes steeling over in irritation. The nickname she’s given hits the final nail on the coffin and seals away [name]’s trepidation. Instead, her own sass comes out to join the fun.

“Nah,” she hums playfully, the chocolate-covered wafer cookie crunching between her teeth. “Quit calling me kid, coach. I’m a lady,” the irony isn’t lost on either of them as she speaks with her mouth full.

“Still a kid, kid. And quit calling me coach, I’m not your damn coach.” The familiar, grumpy attitude of his brings [name] back to the Ukai she knew back in high school. In a mix of nostalgia, warmth washes over her as the haughty tone in his voice sent shivers down her spine like it did a few years back.

“Sure thing, coach,” she teases again before tossing the wrapper of the stolen candy bar into the nearest bin. “You’re at the club tomorrow, right?” The question adds a bit of context and confirmation to Ukai—it seems she knew when Spira was performing, meaning she must have been a patron for a decent amount of time. Part of him wonders how she never realized who he was before, another part wonders how he’s never noticed her considering she could make all traffic stop if she stood in the middle of a freeway. At least, that’s what looking at her did to his heart.

“Yeah?”

“Maybe this time, you’ll join us at the after party.” Without another word, [name] pushes herself away from the counter she’d been leaning on while talking to the blonde man. With Akiteru giving him the weekend off, he actually entertained the thought of attending this time. Even if her invitation was rather blasé and indirect, he didn’t see the opportunity of him attending one presenting itself any time soon. He may be old, by his own standard, but there was a unknown allure to the thought of showing up to a wild party with a woman that was so adamant of his attendance.

Or rather, adamant in his mind. Whether she actually wanted his company remained to be seen, but the curiosity was gnawing at him, and was something he would have to unearth sooner rather than later.

Having an entire night, or a day’s worth, of rest was a rather disorienting, yet pleasant feeling for Ukai. After tending to crops and returning home in the early hours of the morning, the blonde coach was able to catch a solid nine hours of sleep before his shift at the Sakanoshita store with another chance to nap before he needed to head to the club. Despite knowing he had the ability to do so before another restless night, his mind felt the need to keep him awake and alert. Even after showering and styling his blonde tresses into their usual mane—mundane acts that usually came to him automatically—he was hyper aware of the slightest unruly flyaways.

Ukai Keishin was nervous.

He didn’t know what to wear or if there was a dress code or if anything he typically wore would be deemed worthy of an after party. A part of him wanted to leave it alone and let him sport his usual white track pants and tight, maroon muscle tank, but that part of him immediately drowns in the ocean of his anxiety. Another string in his brain prompted him to dress up just a little bit to help him look the part—it had nothing to do with impressing a certain club patron, no—he tried to convince himself. A miserable attempt, but still one nonetheless.

Eventually, he settled on crisp, dark-washed jeans that hugged his muscular legs without being suffocating, paired with a vibrant, crimson muscle tee that hugged his biceps all the same. Ukai still felt a little out of place in the attire, as he often had back when he first assumed the alias Spira, but headed out the door of his apartment before his conscious could dispute it.

He was early again, even more so than normal. Desperate for a drink to calm his nerves and replace his blood with liquid courage, Ukai worms his way around to the bar, signaling the attendant for his usual. Rum and coke in hand, the DJ stands off to the side, hiding like a wallflower, while he studied the sweaty, dancing bodies. Did he know why he was looking for her—no. Maybe partially to tell her she owed him for the candy bar, maybe to tell her he was joining in on the after party this time around.

Maybe to just see her.

Keishin banishes the last thought with a shake of his head before skulking off to the attached patio to smoke. Pulling a cigarette from his pack and a lighter from his pocket, the flame torches the end of the filter at the same time the blonde inhales. Forcefully pushing the smoke out past his lips, Ukai takes a hearty sip of his drink until it’s nearly gone. He was going to need something stronger tonight.

“Is it that time already?” The older man’s head snaps to the voice that had been haunting him subconsciously.

Part of him wishes he didn’t look.

As if to play into her question, [name] checks the large, rose gold watch on her right wrist—an incredibly stark contrast to her outfit for the evening. Maybe it was a hunch when Ukai felt that he had been underdressed, as if his intuition knew that she was going to be dressed to the nines in a black skater dress. Even with a modest neckline, the lace cut out detailing on the sides of the dress accentuated her curves impeccably, playing well with the volume of the skirt, while the open back she was sporting dipped dangerously low.

It took everything in Ukai to not throw every milliliter of restraint and inhibition out the window and fuck her right then and there.

Taking a lengthy drag of his cigarette to hold himself back, Keishin inhales deeply, the smoke billowing past his lips emerging densely and grey in color. “I’m a little early—needed an extra drink today.” The man manages to choke out, downing whatever is left in his little plastic cup for added emphasis.

“Need another?” [name] chirps politely; almost too politely as if to deliberately dispute the salacious thoughts flooding the coaches mind.

“I can get—“

“I owe you anyway,” she reminds him, alluding to the candy bar she had eaten without paying for from the previous night. “Pick your poison.”

“Double rum and coke.” He concedes. [name]’s lips twitch upward slightly at the corner before she plucks the empty cup from Ukai’s hand. He doesn’t miss the way the shellac on her nails grazes against his skin, leaving the whispers of contact to run warm. Immediately, the blonde man uses the nearly dead cigarette between his teeth to light a fresh one—heaven or hell knows he needed the nicotine right now.

Given the silence, Keishin takes the opportunity to absorb his surroundings. From the general direction that [name] initially came from, she wasn’t around any of her friends or really anyone that he knew. That was good at least; there wasn’t anybody else that knew of his presence. [name] returns, two clear plastic cups in her hands and surrenders the darker of the two to the man awaiting. “Hold mine for a sec?” Without thinking, Keishin holds his cigarette between his left index and middle fingers, his drink in the same hand, while taking hers. To his surprise, she pulls out her own pack of menthols and a torch lighter, setting the leaves ablaze before taking her obvious vodka cranberry back.

“You took up smoking?” The older of the two asks in surprise, noting the way her lipstick leaves the slightest bit of residue along the brown filter. [name] gives a shrug.

“Surprised you didn’t notice it sooner, coach. I’ve been smoking since second year.” Ukai gives a roll of his eyes at the use of this strange pet name he’s been dubbed by her. But he thinks about it, thinks about how Suga must have felt probably knowing that she did. Thinks how it just added to this strange, sassy yet happy, wild and free exterior she now had. And [name] notices instantly the very same look Ukai had in his face when he was trying to strategize, trying to figure out a way to navigate a conversation with his team about becoming better—she knows what’s coming next. “Yeah, yeah, I know I should quit or whatever. Suga lost that argument a long time ago.”

“Can’t really tell you what to do when I’m just as guilty.” Ukai gives a laugh—one that is embedded with bitterness and envy at the mention of the third-year setter—yet is just as vivacious as he is. A sound entirely different than she’d ever heard leave his lungs before. She likes it.

After finishing his smoke, Keishin gulps down a hefty swig of his drink before patting [name] on the shoulder before announcing his departure. “I’ll see you inside,” the girl, woman, calls out thoughtfully as she gives a small wave with her cigarette filter between her fingers. Ukai doesn’t verbalize the same sentiment. He doesn’t want to slip up and admit he’ll be looking for her.

But it’s painfully obvious that he is when he takes over the booth. Unable to hide the fact that with every chance that he looks into the audience, he’s searching for that black skater dress that hugs her all too perfectly, [hair color] locks swaying as she moves in the crowd. Ukai can’t hide it at all—not behind the turn table or new remixes meant to get the crowd moving.

He can’t hide the urgency he feels to find her outside in the crisp evening air, smoking on the back patio of the club after his set. [name] is talking and laughing with her friends while thin grey smoke billows from her open mouth before her eyes land on him. Some of her friends take notice to the tension and their shared gazes, some of them whispering his alias in excitement. But [name] just smiles knowingly, if not a little cocky, because she can see that urgency, that desperation, that Ukai was trying to hide. “Wait, [name], do you know Spira?” A bystander asked. Clearly, they weren’t present the last time this was brought up.

“Yeah, I may have met him once or twice,” the woman in question snickers as she strides over closer and closer to the aforementioned DJ.

“Cute,” Ukai sneers teasingly at her jab before instinctively reaching for the half-gone cigarette she pulls to her stained lips. At first, she thought he was going to put it out, considering their little conversation from a few hours ago. Instead, the volleyball coach puts the filter to his own lips, noting the damp fabric probably from her freshly applied lipgloss, and takes a drag. It tasted like watermelons and mint.

“Cheeky,” [name] returns, plucking her cancer stick back from the blonde man. While her friends are still behind her murmuring about the familiarity between the two of them, Keishin and [name] are lost in their own little world. “So since your set is over, and considering you’re still here, I’m assuming you’re joining me for the after party? Or do you have to go to work again?”

“I told them I’d be out of town this weekend,” Ukai tries to play it off as nonchalantly as he could, ties to swallow it down his nerves with rum and nicotine. It proves rather difficult considering the coy smile on [name]’s face is wearing and cracking through his resolve rather quickly. But at least, to him, he could confirm his mind was not playing tricks on him and [name] was just as adamant about his attendance as he initially thought. Even more so with her next statement.

“Cool. Your car or mine?” It took him a minute to process her words even—lust thickening and constricting the flow to his brain at the vague question. Ukai was getting far too ahead of himself, but goddammit how could he focus when the fabric of her skirt hit her mid-thigh and framed her like a Venetian goddess—“I don’t mind driving there.” She adds to coax him away from his silence.

“Nah, I got it. We’ll take mine.”

“Lead the way,” [name] chimes sweetly as she wraps an arm around the coach’s forearm. The physical touch is everything he’s been fantasizing about for the last few days—hellfire and brimstone and sunlight and goddammit why did he wear jeans that were only getting tighter and tighter?

Ukai opens the passenger door to his SUV, supporting the woman as she clambered in cautiously so as not to stumble from her heels. Getting settled in, the coach surrenders his unlocked phone to allow her the entirety of his music library. The irony of the DJ surrendering DJ rights to the passenger was not lost on either of them. Much to his surprise, [name] put on soft acoustic punk as he usually did on his way home from the club. The kind of softness one would turn on to accompany the fragile pitter-patter of rain against the windshield. “Cardboard Swords?” Ukai asks in surprise, more than familiar with the band.

“Flannel is a favorite of mine. I’m kind of surprised it’s in your library.” She adds after she begins directing him to this evening’s party location. From the corner of his eyes, he can see the way her full lips are moving along each word with expertise. He sees the way her [eye color] orbs soften slightly and he can tell this song hits home for her.

She’ll never say why—she’ll never tell him this was the song that helped her move on from Sugawara Koushi while restoring her inner peace.

But Keishin is no fool. He can tell that this is physically hurting her—crushing her soul into the leather seat of his car and, instinctually, he wraps a large hand around hers that’s resting in her lap. “I came out tonight to have fun with you, so don’t you go getting sad on me.” He means each word with innocent intent, yet he cannot ignore the almost hidden, salacious drip to each syllable and neither can she. How could she when his touch sent volts of electricity through her skin?

“Right, right,” she says in a conceding tone, switching the audio to something much more upbeat and a little flirty. “Why did you agree to go out tonight?” If Ukai had an answer, then it died on his lips as he let go of [name]’s hand to reach for another cigarette. The process of lighting the tube, inhaling, and exhaling bought him an extra minute to come up with an excuse; her doing the same giving him another thirty seconds.

“I don’t know.” It’s a blatant lie—a lie that [name] believes all too easily—but Ukai can’t bring himself to admit the truth. He can’t admit out loud that she’s the only thing that’s been on his mind all week or that he jumped at the opportunity, created one even, to be able to have a one-on-one moment with her. Keishin can’t admit that he can tell there are intricate webs spun in her mind and that all he wants to do is untangle them one by one.

And he certainly can’t tell her that even the mere sight of her sends his brain into overdrive and all he wants to do is repeatedly fill her over and over with his seed until she is entirely his, inside and out in mind, body, and soul. There was no way in the nine circles of hell that Ukai Keishin was going to admit to his sinful thoughts.

“It’s just up here.” [name] points with gaunt fingers, cigarette between them as her voice is half choked from inhaling her own smoke. Mirroring the man’s actions earlier, she indulged in her own nicotine habit to quell the budding disappointment from Ukai’s lackluster response. They drove up a slight winding hill and as the trees pass by, the itch for her truth and her history was gnawing at him. He wanted to know why this rambunctious party girl invited him all week to these elusive after parties. Why Flannel ate away at her insides like it did his. Why did her and Sugawara breakup?

But he decides against it for the moment.

“Where are we?” Ukai asks. There’s cars all lining the sides of the road of varying worth—he felt even more out of place than normal with his older SUV, even if it was an upgrade for him, considering the large number of luxury vehicles.

“Bevelle’s house.” [name] says simply, pointing to an empty space in the streets as she throws the butt of her cigarette into the road. The casual way she name drops the owner of the club makes him gawk, catching flies in his mouth had there been any at the hour. With a satisfied, cheesy grin, she hops out of her seat and walks in the grass to meet Ukai on the other side as he clambers out of the vehicle as well. In familiarity, she grips into his forearm once again as they walk towards the forest mansion.

Keishin wasn’t sure what to expect when the two of them walked in, but a home full of people screaming his pseudonym and her name was not on that list. Younger hordes had surrounded [name], greeting her warmly and telling her how glad they were to see her again for the evening. Others were approaching Ukai, telling them how rare and a momentous occasion that the infamous artist Spira was amongst their midst.

“Glad to see you could join us, Spira.” His boss and club owner, Bevelle, approaches the mismatched couple. Bevelle was an alias used by the middle aged woman, her real name unknown to those that didn’t know her know her, and was once upon a time her stage name. While she had chosen a quiet location in the Miyagi prefecture, Bevelle was quite known in the underground scene. Granted, Ukai didn’t know any of that when he’d taken the job. If anything, it was all thanks to her that he was able to learn for his own success as well as granting him the opportunity to learn in the first place. “Good to see you too, trouble.” Bevelle affectionately goes to muss at [name]’s hair, to which she only replies with a cheeky grin.

“How do you know Bevelle?” Ukai presses his lips towards the ear of the woman still hanging onto him as she expertly leads the way to the kitchen. The car ride left her feeling slightly uncomfortable, ashamed even though she would never admit to that, and she knew she definitely needed a drink after it. Part of her was heavily rebuking herself for trying to pry into his mind by asking why he came along, even more so when she put on the one song that shattered her heart every time she heard it. It just excited her that he had it in his library, that he even knew who The Cardboard Swords were, and that he enjoyed the same obscure taste in music as much as she did.

“She’s a close family friend!” The chirp that [name] gives isn’t entirely convincing, like she isn’t telling the truth. Regardless, Ukai washes down his doubt with the beer he was handed, figuring she probably had her reasons. And as soon as the plastic is in each of their hands, [name] downs the contents immediately, hoping to drown out the nerves ebbing from her stomach with vodka. She should have been ecstatic—her old high school crush, her unrequited crush, was here with her, drinking side by side but she can’t help but feel the tension between them—sexual or otherwise.

Just as the two of them down their second round, a piercing voice cuts through the thicket of the masses, calling out her name and capturing her attention. “It’s your song! Come on!” A shrug and a smile crosses [name]’s features as she’s all but dragged away to a different part of the mansion. Much to his surprise, she grabbed onto Keishin to drag him along as well.

The two of them are presented with a myriad of sweaty, rolling bodies—much more gone than Ukai had ever seen at the club itself. It was oddly...sensual, if it could be called that, to see the fluid movements between party goers. Sensual, intimate, strange—all of them could be used interchangeably at this moment.

[name] is dancing with another woman, mouthing all of the words to the current pop song while bobbing and jumping around excitedly before her eyes lock on his. She’s in her element now. All sunshine and smiles like Ukai had seen from on occasion from years ago or most recently at the club, but they’re directed at him for once as she pulls him closer onto the dance floor. The taunting beats and repetitive call of “come on” and the way [name] loosely wraps her arms around his neck as she dances brings Ukai to the realization that this was the end of the line.

The end of the line, because Keishin can’t hold himself back anymore.

Not with the way her hips are grinding against is and she’s laughing warmly and heartily at his slight discomfort and her teeth are glittering off the lights in the dark room like stars in the night sky. Not with the way her head is thrown back and her dress drops low enough to flaunt the expanse of bare skin of her neck and collar bones that are just begging him to sink his teeth in. Not with the way her [eye color]ed orbs are locked with his as she sings along with the music, oddly enough alluding to some form of confession of her feelings.

He can’t fucking take it anymore.

The large hands he has on her hips move just under her arms to hoist her up, [name] instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist to keep her balance. Their eyes are locked, honed in on each other with the rest of the party melting into the background. With her deepest, most wild high school fantasy driving her actions, she grins. “Hi,” is all she says before Ukai cranes his neck back to cover her lips with his.

His kiss is everything she imagined it would be after years of pining. The smell and taste of smoke and wood floods her senses as his tongue laps at the watermelon lip gloss on her bottom lip before seeking refuge within her mouth. His hands, now wrapped around her thighs give intermittent squeezes, either to keep them grounded in reality or just because he needs something to clutch at—she’s unsure of which. In response, her manicured fingernails tangle into his messy blonde locks. Their kiss pours out their desperation, laying it all out on the table for the both of them to see clear as day.

The only thing that prompts them to break apart is the ending of the song.

“You wanna get out of here?” Ukai asks as he tenderly puts [name] back on the ground. As if he weren’t just making out with her moments ago, the motion is delicate and gingerly and almost loving.

“Not yet,” there’s a knowing, smug lilt in her voice as she turns on her heel and throw herself back into the throng of party people. Or rather, attempts. While she’s attempting to flee, Keishin snatches her wrist, pulling her closer until their chests are flush against each other.

“Nuh uh,” the blonde man tuts, “you’ve been asking me to join you at a party all week, now here I am. The hell makes you think you’re leaving my side tonight?” [name]’s grin only grows wider.

“I’ve waited for years for this opportunity, coach, so if you think I’m not gonna have fun with it, you’re dead wrong.” The word ‘years’ constricts the man’s heart—forces his pupils to blow into dilation with her modest, yet blunt confession.

“Years?”

“Years,” she repeats, “ever since that first practice you stumbled into the Karasuno gym as the temporary coach. Why do you think I came to every single exhibition match and tournament? Or came to study and do homework while you guys had practice?” This girl was grinding at every steel line of self-control that was left in Ukai’s body because every word spilling past her lips added an additional ten volts to the sexual tension between them.

“We’re leaving.” He bites out despite the delicate tone. Wrapping his hand around hers once again, Keishin tugs her along time dodge the party goers that threw the two of them curious glances, wondering why they were quick to leave shortly after their arrival. Just to tease him further, [name] almost wants to offer a rebuttal and tell him that they should stay longer and enjoy the show. However, she knows she’s done enough waiting and if he was taking her home, she wasn’t going to argue.

While urgency and desperation was their game, Keishin didn’t cut corners when it came to presenting himself as a gentleman as he helped [name] back into the car. Hormones be damned—he was still going to help a lady into the passengers seat. “You never did tell me why you finally agreed to come out tonight.” She says quietly, as if the two of them hadn’t been making out and dry humping a few minutes prior. “And it’s clearly not because you knew I had a crush on you all throughout third year—“

“Don’t act like you’re the only one with feelings in this.” Ukai grits out, speeding much faster back home than he did on the way to Bevelle’s house. Paying that no mind, [name]’s ears perk up at his own wayward confession. When she asked for clarity, a rumbling groan shakes his chest as he patted down his pockets in search for his nicotine sticks. “I didn’t recognize you the first night at the club because you look different now. Happiness looks good on you.”

“Happiness?” She echos confusedly, turning to face Ukai fully after lighting her own cigarette.

“You used to always look content back then—just barely content and nothing more. And I can’t stop thinking back to those days because you’re this ball of sunshine, kid, and I can’t stop wondering what the hell Suga did to you to dim your shine that badly. I haven’t stopped thinking about you all week.”

[name] is quiet for a moment at his own rendition, his own version, of a confession and she’s stunned. And she can’t tell if she wants to cry or kiss him because this is not that way she ever fantasized this conversation going. It was going better than she dreamed. Better, because the words that Ukai is saying adds an entirely new layer to his amped up personality—he wasn’t just the sexy volleyball coach that she used to pine over. He was a person with deep rooted feelings for justice in the sense of wanting to understand how someone could inflict damage to the innocent and he wanted to rectify said injustices. He wanted to know how someone like Suga could try to dampen her sunlight instead of allowing her to thrive and bloom.

She wants to kiss him, she decides, but since he’s driving, she settles for placing a chaste one on the corner of his mouth. “Serves you right,” she jokes when she pulls away, “it’s been a long four years for me. It’s your turn to suffer.”

“Trust me, this car ride is torture enough.”

[ next ]

[rhinklibrary]

College Rhink Top Fics

Hi Readers! We’re so excited for our first official list! This week is one of the most popular genres in our fandom - College Rhink. 

Please note these are all based on the dates of completion and/or the last update. While most are completed or are WIPs, you might come across an uncompleted fic. This list also does not include writings exclusively on Tumblr, or other sites, so please send us those recs!

Below the cut, you will find the top five kudos’d fics from the years 2015-2020. At the end you will also find our librarians’ recommendations. 

Happy reading! 

2015

#1 I’m Not Scared, Man, You’re Scared - thenthekneehits - [Teen and Up] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 3122

College, Cohabitation, Fluff without Plot, Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Awkward Boners, Sharing a Bed

In which two stupid boys turn weak, there is a spider, and no cuddling.

#2 Pierced - Isra/ @mythical-rhink -Rhink - [Explicit] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 5301

College, First time, Piercing, play piercing, Blood, D/s, Kink, BSM, Alcohol, Profanity

Rhett’s in college and wants to try something new, and of course he’s going to bring Link along for the ride.

#3 Rewritten - Chellan_Nicollares - [Explicit] - Chapters: 8 - Words: 16,040

Alternate Universe - College/University, Pining, Angst, Jealousy, Metafiction

If you have the power to rewrite reality, how far would you go for love? Rhett has already answered the question, but his actions might lead to his undoing within the very same day. 

#4 Encounter - Chellan_Nicollares - [Teen and Up] - Chapters: 10 - Words: 9280

Alternate Universe - Past lives, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Strangers, Transmigration, Supernatural Elements

This is a prologue to their life-long love and companionship. A mysterious encounter on a hiking trip gave Rhett some new perspectives. What's meant to be is meant to be.

#5 Grown Up Giggles - thenthekneehits - [General Audiences] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 269

College, Slice of Life, Growing Up, Self Confidence Issues, Cohabitation

Prompt: “I like your laugh.”

2016

#1 Whale, whale, whale - rhincoln/ @bloodbros (orphaned) - [Explicit] - Chapters: 4 - Words: 25,602 

Friends With Benefits, Epic Friendship, Hand Jobs, Alternate Universe - College/University, Mutual Pining, Masturbation, Blow Jobs, First Time, Semi-Public Sex

During the day, it’s all sunny beaches and warm touches and the ocean. At night, strange noises can be heard from Rhett’s bunk. And why did Rhett bring a stuffed Shamu to the beach resort anyway?

#2 What Do You Want Me To Say? - @remembertherandler - [Mature] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 1311

First Kiss, Kissing, I’m dead move, rhink, young rhink, college!rhink, Light Angst, Cute, Touching

So you’re horsing around with your roommate in your dorm room...big deal? Someone saw you? Oh…

#3 Slight Altercations - notasponsor - [Teen and Up] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 4790

College AU, Sorta Enemies to Lovers, Look they just bicker a lot, and they don’t know each other rly before the fic, Studying then cuddling, Fluff

Link glares, “You’re insufferable.” “No, I’m Rhett.” “Asshole.”

#4 Enough - chaoticliv - [Teen and Up] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 2296

Angst, Teenagers, Pining, Pining Rhett, College, Childhood, First Kiss, Kissing, Rhett POV

They were best friends. That was always enough for Rhett.

#5 The Laws of Thermodynamics - MythicallySnappy/ @RatchetRhink - [Mature] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 2819

Recreational Drug Use, Alcohol, Fluff, First Kiss, College, Artistic interpretation of math and what an industrial engineering degree actually entails

Link finally lets loose in the midst of exam season, and Rhett’s smiling and no matter how hard Link tries, he can’t calculate the meaning behind it.

2017

#1 A Perfect Arrangement - rhincoln/ @bloodbros (orphaned) - [Explicit] - Chapters: 15 - Words: 93,859

Fake/Pretend Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Best Friends, Alternate Universe - College/University, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Public Display of Affection, Pining, rhink, Masturbation, Jealousy, Drunken Shenanigans, Angst, Mutual Pining, Mutual Masturbation, Porn, Idiots in Love, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Sickfic, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Grinding, Sex Tapes

In order to win the body and soul of Miss Perfect, a girl they think they’re obsessed with, Rhett and Link figure they first have to win the keys to the coolest place on campus - something that is offered to them out of the blue, with only a single catch: only couples could get to move into the lush apartment. Rhett and Link would do anything for the space, for the girls - even pretend that they’re romantically involved. As true best friends, together they start off on the ambitious quest for love. What happens is its own story.

#2 No Touching! - rhincoln/ @bloodbros (orphaned) - [Explicit] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 5701

Friends to Lovers, Alcohol, Jealousy, No Homo, College, Semi-Public Sex, Rhink

Gregg decides to to take the duo out to a gay clup for a lark. It’s all fun and games, until Rhett thinks it isn’t. (In other words, until Link gets hit on.)

#3 Writing Love On Your Skin - @magicbubblepipe - [Teen and Up] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 3723

Pining Rhett McLaughlin, Injured Link, College, Rhink, Fluff, caretaker Rhett

When Rhett and Link share a bed, there’s a certain game they play.

#4 Lincoln In Distress - meirenyu/ @mei-ren-yu - [Explicit] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 3577

College!rhink, Butt Plugs, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Internalized Homophobia, Fluff, First Time

Rhett’s awoken from a great dream to find Link in dire straits in the top bunk of their dorm.

#5 Over the Phone - tvmoviemaniac/. @galacticnocturne - [Teen and Up] - Chapters: 14 - Words: 28,044

Rhink, Alternate Universe - College/University, College AU, Alternate Universe, Teen Romance, Depression, Awkwardness, Loneliness, Anxiety, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Mention of abuse, Homophobia, First Time, Sexual Encounter

Link Neal, a sophomore in college, finds a remedy to his existential problems and depression in an unlikely relationship he forms over the phone with a stranger - Rhett McLaughlin

2018

#1 Lovers in the Backseat - Matrimus - [Explicit] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 4883

Alternate Universe - College/University, Public Hand Jobs, Link is a little shit, Exhibitionism

Rhett offering his lap as a seat had sounded like a good idea at the time. It doesn’t take long for Link to exploit it.

#2 Forget Me Not - Matrimus - [Teen and Up] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 3404

First Kiss, Temporary Amnesia, Internalized Homophobia, College

After breaking his pelvis in a snowboarding accident, Link suffers from temporary amnesia. He knows he’s in hospital, knows he’s hurt his hip - and knows Rhett is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

#3 The Naked Truth - @missingparentheses - [Explicit] - Chapters: 8 - Words: 22,786

College, Fraternities & Sororities, Light Angst, Dorm Room Sexytimes

After a night of drinking at a frat party, Rhett and Link wake up naked in bed together with no memory of what happened the night before. They set out to piece together the details of the night and see if they can find out what happened, how they feel about it, and if they want it to happen again.

#4 Hungry Ghosts - MythicallySnappy/RatchetRhink - [Explicit] - Chapters: 7 (Incomplete) - Words: 20,241

College, Underage Drinking, Alcohol, Boys Being Idiots, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Angst, Smut, the holy trinity of fanfic

It’s the summer after freshman year and Rhett and Link are back at home in Buies Creek. An uncomfortable experience at a party flips Rhett’s world upside down and Link is there to help him build a new one

#5 Sofa Symphony - @santamonicayachtclub - [Explicit] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 2321

College, Couch Sex

“C’mon, bo,” Link urges, husky-voiced. “Do me like you’re paying for it.”

2019

#1 Live Connection - @linkslipssinkships - [Explicit] - Chapters: 115 (Incomplete) - Words: 87,022

Porn Watching, Camboy!Link, Risky Behavior, Alternate Universe - College/University, Modern AU, Short Chapters, Stream of Consciousness, First Person, Loss of Virginity, Mutual Pining, Angst, Long Distance Relationship, Sex Work, Consenusl sex work, Sex work related slurs, Anal Sex, handjobs, Jealousy, Mentions of Infidelity, First Relationship

Rhett’s just a college kid looking for some good porn. Link is a camboy looking for loyal fans and good money. When Link goes live, the pair feels an interesting connection.

#2 Untethered - Its_mike_kapufty/ @its-mike-kapufty - [Explicit] - Chapters: 32 - Words: 109,097

Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, College, Slow Burn, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Demons, demon!Rhett and human!Link, Vomiting, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Master/Servant, Praise, Biting, Oh No He’s Hot, Marijuana, Drinking, Mutual Masturbation, Supernatural Illnesses, Churches & Cathedral, Abuse of Authority, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Vigilantism, Blow Jobs, Police, Guns, Anal Sex, Hearteyes Rhett, Obsessive Behavior, Matter of Life and Death, Blood and Gore, Near Death, Happy Ending

Link would’ve never guessed that the price of fucking up his entire life is approximately 5¢.

#3 Lucidity - Its_mike_kapufty/ @its-mike-kapufty - [Explicit] - Chapters: 31 - Words: 103, 027

Porn With Plot, College, Sensory Deprivation, Ice Play, Frottage, Mutual Masturbation, Stuffed Toys, Scent Kink, Phone Sex, Blow Jobs, Reading Aloud, Intercrural Sex, Sex Toys, Double Penetration, Glory Hole, Protectiveness, Clothed Sex, Anal Sex, Babbling, Feeding Kink, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Under-Table Blow Jobs, Fight Sex, Orgams Delay/Denial, Lingerie, Multiple Orgasms, Humiliation, Free Use, Rimming, Animal Traits, Marijuana, Public Sex, Pool Sex, Bladder Control, Milking Machine, Smoking, Angst, Exhibitionism, Clone Sex, Love Confessions 

Rhett doesn’t know why this is happening. Thank Goodness Link doesn’t know it’s happening at all.

#4  Everyone but Me - Its_mike_kapufty/ @its-mike-kapufty - [Explicit] - Chapters: 11 - Words: 46,790

Alternate Universe - College/Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Jock!Rhett, Internalized Homophobia, House Party, Drinking, Cigarettes, Sthenolagnia, Kissing, Blow Jobs, Bars and Pubs, Social Media, Pining, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Denial of Feelings, Piercings, Bets & Wagers, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Heart-to-Heart, Nude Photos, Masturbation, Basketball, Post-Game(s), Marijuana, Vomiting, Concerts, Slow Dancing, Slurs, Protectiveness, First Time, Anal Sex, Self-Doubt, Pride Celebration

Rhett can fit in anywhere, make small talk with anyone. He’s one of NC State's best players, after all. If he can’t dazzle strangers with his records and status--if he’s not the perfect example of the masculine standard--then who is he?

#5 The Elephant in the Dorm - @goodmythicalghoulboy - [Explicit] - Chapters: 1 - Words: 4940

College, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Mutual Masturbation, Porn Watching, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Comeplay, Dirty Talk, Spanking, (just the teeniest bit of it though), Boundaries? What are boundaries?, Daddy Kink

Rhett thinks he’s finally got an hour to himself to really take his time and indulge in a little self love. He’s sorely mistaken, but it all works out for the best.

2020 so far

#1 Big Man on Campus - @fanbabble & @mythicaliz - [Explicit] - Chapters: 16 - Words: 41, 973

1990s, Dorms, Roommates, Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Sharing a Bed, Strangers, Basketball, Arguing, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Angst but it’s gonna get better, Alcohol, Underage Drinking, Body Shots, Masturbation, Frottage, bed sharing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Forbidden Love, I’m dead move, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, Voyeurism, Public Blow Jobs, Gay Bar, Jealousy, Coming Out, Anal Sex, First Time, Shower Sex, Semi-Public Sex

1996. NC State University. Syme Dorm, Room 24. Two roommates with very different dreams. One wants to play basketball and make his family proud. The other wants to make movies and explore his new found freedom. But there’s a problem… there is only one bed!

#2 The Roles We Play - sassandpanache/ @sass-and-panache - [Mature] - Chapters: 16 - Words: 31,238

Alternate Universe - College/Universe, Theatre, Basketball!Rhett, TheaterKid!Link, Enemies to Friends, to Lovers

Rhett’s failing his theater class so in order to save his grade, he joins the crew of NC State’s fall production of ‘Cat on a Hot Tin Roof’. What he doesn’t realize is that the next month will change his life.

#3 Tell Me About It - Its_mike_kapufty/ @its-mike-kapufty - [Explicit] - Chapters: 1, Words: 7261

Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Sex Toys, Masturbation, Phone Sex, mentions of internalized shame

One of the biggest drawbacks of being incomplete without your best friend is the (very intense) fear of missing out.

#4 Taking Turns - @apparentlynotreallyfinnish - [Explicit] - Chapters: 1, Words, 2465

Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends With Benefits, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Pining

It didn’t take them long after starting college to get to this. One night of too many drinks and too few enthusiastic sexual partners available had lead to an awkward, fumbling experimentation in Rhett’s bunk. Rhett’s not sure anymore which one of them brought it up first, but somehow, in their inebriated and horny state, they’d realized that they could easily help each other out.

#5 Learning to Crawl - DarlingLo/ @darling-lo [Explicit] - Chapters: 5/6 (WIP) - Words: 33,081

College, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - College/University, First Time, First Meetings, Angst, Enemies to Friends, Sexual Tension, Internalized Homophobia

It took Link four hours to learn his roommate’s name. And those four hours are all that was needed for him to absolutely hate him. 

[mandadoration]

spoils go to the winner

summary: You’re one of the first friendly faces that Cara Dune sees when she first arrives on Sorgan after her early retirement, and now she thinks that this isn’t so bad, especially when you’re so pliant under her fingers.

word count: 3, 971

pairing: cara dune x reader

Warnings: smut, choking, fingering, praise kink, oral sex, overall debauchery, canon-typical violence

a/n: uhhh hehe enjoy 

Read this on AO3

Sorgan was not the most attractive of places, especially when compared to Cara’s home planet of Alderaan. It was too humid in the summer and fall months, and winters were short, villages and towns were spread far apart, and if you wanted any luxury items, you would have to track someone down who was willing to bring supplies to you. The ground was in an almost perpetual state of too-soft, tracking mud wherever you would go. But Alderaan was no more, and the New Republic had designated her to peacekeeping and riot control. That was definitely not what she has signed up for, so she left in search of something else. She dabbled in mercenary work, but soon realized it was just not her thing.

So she would have to settle for Sorgan. 

It wasn’t all bad, she supposes. Nobody thought twice about Sorgan. It was severely underdeveloped and villages and towns were spread all over the planet with a bare skeleton of a proper government. It would be easy to implement herself into daily life. Daily life just manifested itself into a local fighting ring at the tavern.

“C’mon,” the Zabrak growls. He makes an inviting motion with his hands, baring his teeth as they circle each other. He had been the reigning champion in this little town for quite a while, it seems like, seeing as how the villagers cheer for him and how they had bet on his win over her. The locals look at her with some disdain or with distrust, unsure of this new person that had dropped in. That was fine because Cara was determined in proving them wrong. 

Cara uses the harness keeping them together to tug the Zabrak forward. Using that moment of him stumbling, she punches him, and her knuckles catch on the brow ridge. Unfortunately, he lashes out blindly at the same time, and he catches her jaw as he reels back. Cara’s teeth clack together uncomfortably, and she’s dragged forward as the Zabrak backs up. He’s trying to buy time as he tries to gather his thoughts and think past the pain and where she spots a trickle of blood get in his eye. Cara dashes forward, shoving him hard and hooking her feet under his ankles before he can react, and he goes down hard, hitting his head against the table behind him. Both he and Cara freezes when one of his horns snap off against the edge, eyes following its path until it rolls to a stop next to her feet. 

The Zabrak howls, and lunges for her, but he’s telegraphed the move and she just moves out of the way, watching with disinterest as veins start popping out against his skin. Cara vaguely recalls how prideful Zabraks are of their horns. At this point, he’s not only fighting to win, but to exact revenge for his wounded pride. But in his rage, it’s easy to take him down. Cara merely blocks a sidekick, digging her nails into his leg and yanking him forward, slamming her elbow into his gut, following him all the way down and imagines herself trying to break through and hit the ground. The Zabrak goes down easily, the fight literally being beaten out of him as she feels the soft snap more than hears it, and he lays there groaning as the tavern goes silent at her victory. She strolls over to the table where the credits are, and collects them all. 

Cara sits down, winded as she feels the tender spot on her jaw and the ache in her hands. Nothing she can’t handle, and with how she’s counting her winnings, she could indulge in a bacta shot if she really wanted. But the mark of a fight is something she prides herself in. Besides, the Zabrak was looking much worse for wear. A few of his friends, she assumes, is giving him a pep talk as the Zabrak glares at her from across the room with a venomous glare. For a moment, Cara thinks that maybe the Zabrak will come after her at some point during the night, and then Cara is reminded that she needs to find a place to stay before he could try and track her down. A figure blocks her view and a cup of some shimmering blue drink is placed in front of her. Cara looks up, intent on questioning, and comes face to face with a warm, inviting smile of you. Her mouth goes dry and all thoughts of the Zabrak are wiped from her mind.

“Spotchka for the winner?” you offer softly. 

You look absolutely wonderful, with the light of the setting sun framing your silhouette in a halo-like glow. Wisps of hair escape from your carefully swept-up hairdo, sticking to your face and neck as a light sheen of sweat covers your body from the humid heat. To try and combat the temperature, she sees that your blouse is sinfully sheer and open at the top, where her eyes linger as she follows your breathing. Your sleeves are rolled up to your elbows, but she wishes that she could see more. Somehow, you make the awkward frock look good. Your eyes are sparkling, devoid of distrust or malice she’s seen in the other villagers, and Cara is sure you’re drinking her appearance in just as much as she is. If anything, there’s wonder and admiration in your heated gaze. And ever elegant, Carasythia Dune asks:

“What’s spotchka?”

Your laugh makes Cara uncharacteristically flush, face hot as your eyes crinkle. “Spotchka is a local drink on Sorgan. It’s good,” you insist, pushing the cup closer to her. You look around for your boss before you take a seat across from her, leaning forward eagerly. “You’re new, aren’t you?” you ask, voice low. There’s a local accent playing on your lips. “I’ve never seen you here before. Where are you from?” Your face shows such reverence that Cara can’t help but find herself wanting to answer every single one of your questions despite the fact she had come to Sorgan to forget most of her past. 

“I worked with the Rebellion,” she says automatically, and your eyes widen, flickering to the shock trooper tattoo across her bicep.

“Wow,” you breathe. You gnaw on your bottom lip and Cara looks down to watch. Her grin is wolfish as she flicks her eyes back to yours. It’s clear from your curiosity that interesting folks didn’t come through here often, if at all. “Did you arrive today?” She nods. “How long… How long will you be staying?” you ask, leaning on your hand. A drop of sweat disappears into your cleavage.

“As long as you want me to,” Cara finds herself saying, and she preens at how you blush. The redness crawls from the tip of your ears all the way down your neck, and Cara knows she’s still got it. She wouldn’t say that she was a flirt when she was in the Rebellion, but she won’t deny that she had taken pleasure in knowing that there were plenty of individuals vying for her attention. Now, she was giving it to you with the barest of encouragement. “I’m actually looking for a place to stay. You have any recommendations?” You blink.

“There’s an inn a few buildings down,” you tell her, pointing in some direction that Cara doesn’t care to remember. “It’s a modest place, but I know the owner. I could get you a room if you would like.”

“That would be great,” Cara says. Maybe Sorgan wasn’t so bad. If you were here, of course, she could bear to stay for a few months while she got her credits and figured out a solid plan. Wooing you would just be a bonus. “What’s your name?” You give her that wonderful smile again, telling it to her, and Cara repeats it, trying out how it feels in her mouth. “I’m Cara.” She reaches a hand towards yours where it’s lying against the wooden table, and she sees you open your mouth to say something when--

A customer waves their hand and calls you over, interrupting whatever you were going to say. You stand up, and Cara immediately misses your closeness and realizes how close she actually was, having instinctively leaned in while you were talking. “How much do I owe you for the spotchka?” she asks, offering up some amount of credits. It’s definitely more than she actually owes you for a simple mug of spotchka. You push them back to her.

“On the house,” you murmur, and you linger your touch on hers for longer than necessary, feeling how coarse and rough her hands are compared to yours. “For the winner of the match.” You wink, flashing her a bright smile as you turn away to serve more customers.

Cara will win a million matches if it means she gets to see that smile again. 

--

True to your word, there’s a room already waiting for her when she finishes the spotchka and heads over with her winnings. She settles down and puts what little things she has in the corner as she surveys her surroundings. There’s a bed pushed up against the wall on one side, two small nightstands flanking either side. A desk and chair is facing the only window opposite of the door, and a small wardrobe sits next to the door to a bath. Like you had said, modest. She pulls off her armor and strips down to her tunic and pants. At least the bed is comfortable, she thinks as she flops down on it. When she does, a dull pain throbs in her side. Cara has little faith in the medical prowess of such a small town, so she starts thinking of who could bring in medical supplies for her when a knock sounds at the door. Probably the owner, or maybe even the Zabrak she had beaten today. She thinks that maybe if she’s quiet enough, they’ll leave her alone, but scrambles up when she hears your voice.

“Cara? I brought some things for- Oh, hello,” you interrupt yourself, surprised when the door swings open. You’re holding rags and a bowl of water, and there’s a jar tucked under your arm. “Hope I’m not intruding.”

“No, never,” Cara says. She moves to the side and sweeps an arm out. “Come in.” You put your supplies on the desk and pull out the chair, moving it so that it faces the bed. “What brings you here?” You motion for her to sit down. 

“You have a nasty bruise,” you say, shrugging as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Thought I would help you.” Cara laughs softly and takes a seat on the bed obediently. 

“You help out all the winners?” she asks. You shake your head as you pick up a rag and dip it in the warm water, tilting her head up so that you can wipe away the sweat and grime on her face. It’s nice. Your touch is gentle as you focus on the dirt smudged across her nose, dragging the rag down to sweep across the purpling bruise on her jaw. 

“No,” you murmur. “Just you.” 

“Why’s that?” 

You don’t grace her with an answer, just a quiet hum, as you turn around to drop the rag on the table and pick up the jar. Inside, there’s some sort of pale green cream that you take a dollop of and spread over the bruise. It tingles for a moment, but then dissolves into a blissfully cooling feeling as an herbal smell wafts up to her nose. You rub it in for a few moments before pulling away to wipe your hands on the rag. You come back and tilt her head again to see it better in the fading light. 

“Are you gonna kiss it better?” Cara asks, breaking the silence, and although she has a joking tone, she wouldn’t mind if you did. You sweep a thumb over her cheek, a tender look on your face.

“You ask a lot of questions, Cara Dune,” you note coquettishly. She laughs, but the sound is quickly swallowed by your mouth capturing hers in a searing kiss. Cara immediately puts her hands on your waist, bringing you down so that you sit in her lap. Your mouth is wonderfully soft and pliant, willing and open when she prods her tongue in you. She digs her fingers into your hips, ears perking up when she hears you let out a small whimper, grinding down into her thigh. You thread your fingers through her hair, pulling back with a dazed look in your eyes as your chest heaves with each breath.

“Questions, hm?” she mutters, pressing fleeting kisses against your neck. “If I remember, you were the one asking the question earlier today.” You let out a breathy laugh that melts into a moan when she nibbles at a soft spot under your ear. You untangle your fingers from her hair to fully pull away. Cara lets you go with a final squeeze, disappointed but tries to mask it with a look of want. You must’ve seen it anyways because you smile coyly at her as you start untying the bodice of your frock with deft fingers. You had no intention of leaving.

“Lay back,” you tell her softly, slipping the straps off of your shoulders as you let it pool around your feet, leaving you in your sheer blouse and thin leggings. You kick your boots off, following Cara up the bed as she leans back against the pillows and pulling pins out of your hair to let it flow over your shoulders. Cara grabs the back of your neck and brings you down to kiss you again, tucking the hair curtaining your face behind your ears. She’s thankful that the nights on Sorgan are cooler than the days because she’s starting to sweat from how her body burns up. Still trapping you in a kiss, she trails her hands down your body, kneading your breasts for a short moment before she’s pulling at the hem of your blouse. Unfortunately, you have to pull away to take off your top, but you do so as fast as you can so that you can press a kiss to her jaw, the side without the bruise. As you do, Cara slides your leggings over the swell of your ass. She doesn’t bother with taking it off all the way before she cups her hand around your mound over your panties. 

The moan you let out is just sinful. 

You grind into her hand, sighing as you tuck your face into the crook of her neck. “Please,” you muffled voice says. 

“Please what?” Cara asks teasingly. 

“Touch me.”

“I am touching you,” she says, and digs the palm of her hand into your clit. You keen, high and whiny as you pull her hand away so that you can shimmy out of your panties and pull them and your leggings off, flinging them into the darkness of the room. As much as Cara wants to continue teasing you, one look in the dim light at your blown pupils and bruised lips convinces her to bring her fingers back to your clit. A ragged breath forces itself out of your lungs as she rubs it, bringing her other hand to play with your nipples, rolling the bud between her thumb and forefinger. The angle is awkward as you’re on top, so Cara flips you over, somehow managing not to roll the both of you out of the bed as you let out a surprised gasp. 

Your hair splays under your like a halo, and Cara swears that angels must be real with how etheral you look. She resumes rolling and tugging at your nipples as she slips two of her fingers down to your wetness, spreading it all over your pussy as she grins at the hitch in your breath. She slips two fingers in, pumping it in and out languidly and teasing your clit with her thumb as you writhe under her ministrations. “That’s it,” she whispers, dragging her hand from your breast, up your neck where her rough hands wrap around your throat. Your skin is slick with sweat, and you let out a soft swear in a language she doesn’t know when she curls her fingers in you. Your hand comes up to grasp her wrist as the other one fists the sheets under you. “You’re doing so good, baby.” You whimper from the praise, and Cara slips another finger in you. Her pace quickens, rubbing in fast, tight circles as she keeps hitting that beautiful spot in you, marvelling at how you clench around her fingers. With how you’re moaning, you’re close. “You gonna come?” she pants. Cara tightens her grip around your throat, her wolfish grin widening when she can feel your racing pulse under her hand. “You gonna come for me?” Tears are glistening in your eyes as you nod desperately. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you choke out, hips bucking up as that tight coil in your winds tighter and tighter. “Please, Cara I-- Maker I’m so close--” Cara curls her fingers one last time, pressing your clit as she sucks a hickey right above your left breast as she commands you to cum. White explodes behind your eyelids as you groan in pure pleasure, digging your nails into her wrist as your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting a few tears slip through from the feeling of it all. She lets you ride it out, slowing down the pumping of her fingers as you start to wind down. Her hand releases its grip from your throat. You grab the hand that was just in your pussy, bringing up to your lips and sucking on her fingers, still wet from your cum as you moan around them. 

“Holy shit,” she breathes. You look up at her through tear soaked lashes as you pop her fingers of your mouth. You lay there staring up at her with those doe eyes, chest heaving from the aftershocks, and Cara knows she’s not done with you yet. She pulls away from you light grip and slides down the bed, hooking her arms around your thighs as she drags you down until your hips are hanging off the edge, putting your legs over her incredibly built shoulders. You laugh, and manage to snag a pillow before she takes you too far, tucking it behind your head. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you say, threading your hand through her hair again. “You’re very beautiful,” you murmur, almost absentmindedly. Cara’s body burns hotter at your words, and she dives right in at the apex of your thighs without any preamble, lapping at your dripping pussy as moans tears themselves out of your mouth. “Oh, stars--” Your toes are curling when she licks a broad stripe up, tugging at her hair. 

“You’re so sweet,” she says. Then a pause. “Literally and figuratively,” she adds, and goes right back to devouring you eagerly. It was almost too much. You had barely any time to rest from your last orgasm, and here Cara was, bringing you closer to that precipice almost immediately. You take your fingers out of her hair to adjust the pillow behind you so that you can somewhat prop yourself up, and you let out another gush of wetness that Cara automatically laps up when you see her other hand has disappeared into her pants, playing with herself as she eats you out. With that image seared into your mind, and with how Cara was playing with your clit with her tongue, eyes dark with lust, it takes no time at all for you cum again, toes curling as you grasp at the sheets underneath you, the breath being knocked out of you.

Cara pauses for a brief moment to suck a mark into your inner thigh. You can see that her face is glistening all the way down her chin, and you curl up to kiss her to the best of your abilities, moaning again at the taste of yourself in her mouth. Cara surges up, pinning you against the bed as the hand in her pants move faster. Her other hand stays strong on your shoulder as she slips her tongue into your warm mouth. You whimper, running your hands over her, sneaking your hands up her shirt to scratch down her back. Cara growls at the action. She sits up, nearly ripping her pants off as she pushes it down her hips. This time, as she goes to down to chase after her own orgasm, you slip your hand down with it, rubbing that tight bundle of nerves as Cara stretches herself with her own fingers. “You’re so sweet,” she gasps, pressing open-mouthed kisses, wet and wanting. “Sweet, sweet girl, so nice to me, so willing--” She grunts, switching to the other side to plant more kisses. “You’d let me do anything, hm?” Even as you’re spent, legs still twitching, you feel more arousal build up. 

“Cara,” you moan. 

“Yes,” she hisses. “Say my name again, say it- say it again.” You call her again, a little more urgently, voice pitches upwards as you speed up until finally she cums, collapsing on you and biting down harshly at the junction of your shoulder as you cry out. 

You lay there, panting as you lazily mouth at her neck, tasting the salt of her skin as you rub her back affectionately and pull your hand out from where it was trapped between your bodies. Sleep tugs at you, but you sigh and gently nudge her. “We have to clean up,” you say. Waking up still gross and sweaty for a Sorgan summer did not sound nice. Your voice is rough, and you’re sure you’ll have hand-shaped bruises and a variety of other colorful marks on you when the day breaks. “Would you like me to draw a bath?”

“Only if you’ll come with me,” she murmurs. Cara props herself on her elbows to look at you, at how you were glowing and still flush from the orgasms she had drawn from you. She frowns as she runs a deft finger over where she hid bitten you. “Sorry about that.” You smile and pull her in for a fleeting kiss before you wiggle out from under her. 

“I like it,” you say quickly, and pad to the refresher, trying to ignore the self-satisfied smirk Cara has when your wobbly legs almost give out from under you. You feel wonderfully sore, and when you catch yourself in the reflection of the water, you see exactly how ruined you look. Your lips are red from bruising kisses, eyes still shiny with tears left unshed, and your hair is an absolute mess. Your neck looks like a battlefield, dark marks forming all the way down to your breasts and the one on your inner thigh. You run a finger over the deepest, darkest one that Cara had put on you. It’s sore as you press into it, but it makes you preen.

As the water heats up, you feel warm hands sliding around your waist, Cara sweeping your hair away and pecking kisses up the back of your neck. You stifle a laugh. “You are insatiable,” you say, but a warm feeling starts bubbling in your belly again. You slip from her grasp and go into the water to buy some time, and Cara follows straight after. She pulls your back flush against her bare chest as her hands start dancing downwards. 

“You think you got one more in you?” she husks in your ear. You grin.

“Anything for the winner.”