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tonycries · 3 months

Text

Girl, I Do This Often

Synopsis. How does he cope with a séx ban? He doesn’t.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, rough séx, unprotected, stuff with pantíes, gaggíng, bréeding, Nanami is a bit mean, overstím, finger suckíng, really desperate boys, light smackíng (Nanami), bondagé + víbrators (Geto), swearing.

Word count. 5.2k

A/N. Guess what, ya girl just turned 19 yippeeeee.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 4 days

On the first day, Toji’s more amused than anything.

A sex ban? With him? Ridiculous, he predicted a full 24 hours before you come crawling back, just begging to be split-apart on his cock. And he tells you so, too - a little over five times as he kisses your pouty lips, muttering a smug, “You’ll be eating your words soon enough, doll.”

By the third day, he’s beginning to think that okay, maybe you were serious about the ban after all. How cute - real cute.

He’s left to do nothing but complain pathetically on the phone to a very reluctant Shiu. Who doesn’t have much to say other than cut off Toji’s ramblings about “not having your pretty pussy all day” to groan, “Shut the fuck up and beg for her forgiveness. I’m hanging up.”

Toji can only scoff at the thought. Beg for forgiveness? Him? Toji Fushiguro never begs, he never-

That was until the fourth day.

With you - bent over the kitchen counter in his t-shirt - and nothing but his t-shirt.

“Please, pretty.” Toji drags his lips down your neck, just loving the way your traitorous hips are grinding back into his. “Said m’sorry, right? Don’t ya miss this?”

And you can only look behind your shoulder at the big arms around your waist, muscled thighs pressed up against yours. Angling your head just right to catch the way his hands snake down to your squirming hips to help you draw slow little circles against the rock-hard erection straining against his pants.

So close. So big.

Big enough that you’re almost thinking of throwing this sec ban out of the window altogether - almost.

But that little smirk of Toji’s is infuriating enough that you’re gasping out a breathless little, “I-I’m still mad at you, y’know? You never let me-” The words die in your throat as Toji pulls his pants down just enough for his aching cock to spring free. So angry and painfully hard, leaking hot precum all over your thighs.

“No no no- hah. Keep talking.” he grits out, breath hot against your ear. Hips pushing and pulling. “Please- keep talking.”

And fuck you didn’t know what was harder - trying to find your voice, or ripping your eyes away from Toji’s cock long enough that you could.

“B-because you-” you choke out, watching the way he takes his massive cock in his hands. Staring to pump so slow - so lazy - no rhythm or reason other than getting off so filthily to the sound of your voice. “You never let me take-” He wraps your smaller hands around his dick, so hot and heavy in your palms. “-charge.”

“F-fuck-” Toji lets out a low hiss, head thrown back as you thumb teasingly under his sensitive slit, trying to fuck something delicious out. “Yer killin’ me doll. Killing me.” Whether from your words or from the way you’re sliding him so lewdly between your puffy folds, you didn’t know.

And Toji didn’t either. Hell, he doesn’t even seem to be breathing as he shifts his toned hips so familiarly. Head filled with only you and your heavenly cunt and you.

“Toji-” you mewl. “Need you so bad.”

If he was any lesser man, Toji would’ve just bullied himself into your dripping cunt already, fucked you into the counter until there was nothing about any sex ban in your pretty lil’ mind. Instead, he’s panting out an absolutely wrecked, “Please. Then take all the charge you want, pretty.” Fat head lining up with your sloppy hole. “Next time.”

And oh has it really been that long?

Because Toji’s just barely pushing into your plushy walls, and he already feels like he could cum right then and there. The stretch too sinful. Your walls too tight. So cute how you’re already mumbling his name so deliriously.

“Awww,” he coos, watching awe-struck at the way you flatten your hands on the counter, fucking yourself back into him in short, shallow little grinds. “The s-sex ban was for ah- nothing, huh?”

You’re pulling him impossibly closer by the hair, catching his lips in such a searing kiss. Drinking in Toji’s guttural grunt as you bite down on his lower lip, “Are ya gonna sh-shut up n’ fuck me or do I need ngh- another sex ban?”

“No, ma’am.” he grins, kissing back so mockingly soft. And you know he’s making fun of you with the way he’s twitching so wildly inside your pussy. Veins dragging against all the right spots as he reels his hips back, back, back - only to slam his cock fully inside. “Guess you’re the one mm- in charge right now, huh?”

Over and over again. Fucking you exactly the way he’s wanted these past four days - and then some.

Hitting your cervix - but it feels like your fucking lungs. Heavy balls smacking against your ass, so hard that he’s sure it’ll leave some obscene marks for him to point out next time. One hand around your throat, the other keeping your slutty, trembling hips in place while you’re torn between running away and bucking back for more more more-

“Right here.”

It’s all you can do to whirl your head around, eyes glassy and unfocused, whining a broken, “Wh-what?”

“Right…” Trailing down, featherlight, right where he knew he was wrecking your insides. “Here. S’where I belong.” Pressing hard. “N’ m’gonna make sure you don’t forget it.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 1 week

A week. One week of being patient with your silly idea to “spice things up”. One week of pretending like he wasn’t excusing himself during important meetings to have his cock in his hands - thinking of nothing but you and that sinful little dress you had on today.

One week was all it took for Nanami to have a bad day at work. And you could tell when he did.

By the way that front door slammed, unfamiliarly harsh footsteps sounding against the hardwood floors. And all it takes is one look at you laid out so prettily on the couch and Nanami’s mouth drops into a soft oh!

One hand immediately loosening his tie, the other snaking down to his belt. Ashen, tense, - and you have half the mind to wonder whether he’s even breathing.

Not even looking at you as he mutters a low, “Panties off. Spread those legs.”

That was a few hours ago.

Before you knew it, your husband had you splayed out like such a slut for him on the couch - too starved to even think about making it to the bed. Legs on his sculpted shoulders, panties in tatters on the floor because you were taking too fucking long. Cock so angry and sensitive as he bullies into your snug cunt, stuffing you full of his cum.

Again. And again and again like he wanted to fuck any and every thought of that stupid sex ban out of your delirious mind.

“K-Kento- what-” he pulls you into a bruising kiss. Just a sloppy clash of teeth and spit and hands everywhere. “You’re ngh- different.”

At this, Nanami has the audacity to laugh - laugh. Hips snapping impossibly deeper, “Yeah? N’ who’s fault is hah- that? Who’s fault is it th-that we ended hngh- up like-” Pushing your knees all the way up to your tits, groaning at the mess of cum and slick pooling beneath you. “-this?”

Cock just ramming into you, prominent veins nudging against your gummy walls so agonizingly. The couch creaking in protest as he uses your pretty lil’ cunt exactly the way he’s been fantasizing this past week.

And when all you can do is let out delirious little moans in response, Nanami raises his hand up, up, up. Coming down on your ass, hard.

Smack!

“Didn’t you know we’d end up here?”

Oh the words hit you harder than that large palm-print stinging your ass. Tight pussy clenching and trying to milk the fucking soul out of him as you sob, “I- I didn’t-” Smack! You’re jolting at the impact, hips bucking wildly as you gasp, “-I did! Wanted this so bad, Kento. I did I did-”

And yeah, Nanami knew that. He knew you’d pulled this little “sex ban” stunt to make him break - to have him fuck you like the slut you are. But hearing the words from your pretty mouth had his balls squeezing so painfully.

“Knew it.” he manages to grit out. “Knew you were such a slut, my love.” Words strained with each harsh thrust, “N’ as my slut, y-you can ngh- take one more, right?” You keen at how soft his tone was, like he was whispering sweet little nothings to you instead of promises to absolutely break you. Fingers trailing down to draw lewd patterns on your throbbing clit, “Right?”

And as if to prove you could, he’s squeezing his swollen cock harder into your plushy walls. Faster. Unforgiving. Fat, leaking tip hitting all those sweet spots he’s mapped out, in time with his abuse on your clit.

“Didn’t hah- have to lock myself in my office for nothing, right?” Pulling your trembling hips flush against his toned ones, “Have to get by with j-just a pretty picture this week for nothing?” Hips out of control now. Bruising. Almost painful with the stretch and the sheer pressure of being so full. “S’all for this, right?”

Smack!

“Oh God, Kento- Fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

“Yeah? Feels good?” he nips at your lower lip, “Good enough to fuck- take another one?”

You were sure if he came once more then it might just be the death of you.

You’re not even lucid enough to realize what reaction you’re giving him - all you know is that it isn’t good enough for Nanami.

Because he lets out a tut, hand dancing across your stomach to where he knew he was absolutely making a mess of you inside.

“Fine.” And something about the way he says it makes your heart stop, already knowing that it didn’t bode well for you or your poor cunt. “Guess I hafta ngh- help you.” Sure enough, Nanami wastes no time before pushing down on your abdomen.

The both of you watch - awe-struck and speechless - as your overfilled pussy gushes all around him.

And shit neither of you can even begin to think of what a bitch it’ll be to clean out this couch later on. Too caught up in the way you’re soaking Nanami’s merciless cock in that sinful mix of cum and slick. Thick, and hot, drooling down the side of your puffy folds.

“See? Enough space, no?”

You raise your eyes, teary and hazy with lust, up to meet Nanami’s darkened ones and oh-

You weren’t going to make it out alive.

Especially not when he leans down, whispering so raggedly in your ear, “Now I get to give ya another week’s worth more, right?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - 9 days

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-

You didn’t know how it ended up this way. How that stupid bet about who’d be the needier one made Geto the one with the sex ban.

How he had you tied across from him so prettily on the bed, a bullet vibrator stuffed up your dripping cunt, unable to do anything but whine and watch as he spreads his bare, muscled thighs.

Tip flushed your favorite shade of pink, matching those panties wrapped around his throbbing cock. So angry and leaking all over his fist as one hand slides up, up, up. The other, fiddling with that tiny metal remote.

“You’re drooling, gorgeous. So desperate, huh?”

You know you aren’t - but you can’t help the way your face burns at your boyfriend’s low chuckle. Thighs squeezing together at the heavenly sight before you. “N-no fair, Sugu.” you whine. “I want to-”

Intensity setting 2.

But whatever words get stuck in your throat as Geto draws harsh, quick little circles on the intensity setting, smirking at the way you’re so wrecked already.

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-

“I-I want to-” he mocks your pathetic little whines, acting for all the life of him that they didn’t make his dick twitch so wildly in his hands. “My poor baby. S’not nice, right?” And if you were embarrassed before then it was absolutely nothing in comparison to when Geto knits his brows in mock concern, eyes locked on yours. Hand still moving down his cock, “But isn’t this what you wanted? With the sex ban? Isn’t this-” Hips bucking up to show off how sloppily he’s fucking his fist - and your panties along with it, “-what you were asking for?”

“No.” you’re tugging at the ties at your wrist, “I wanted…”

Intensity setting 3.

But oh it’s like Geto was well and fully intent on leaving you speechless - and succeeding at it too.

Because he immediately brings up your panties - flimsy and just so soaked - up to his face, breathing in so filthily. And as if he couldn’t help himself - as if he didn’t want to help himself - the remote falls out of Geto’s hand, “accidentally” locked on the highest setting, first wrapping around his cock to make a mess of himself.

“F-fuck-” he cracks one eye open, balls squeezing so painfully at the way you were almost in tears trying to get some semblance of friction. “Heh, looks like I’m winning the bet.”

You scoff, but it comes out so pathetically like a whine. “You’re a cheater, I’d have w-won this bet otherwise.”

Ah, how Geto loved your smart mouth - though, he probably loved it even more when you’re fucked dumb. But, right now, bet at the forefront of his mind, the next best thing he could do is shove those sinful panties into your mouth.

Hand flying up and down his cock faster and faster as you choke like such a slut on it. Greedily eyeing the way your lip wobbles, big fat tears welling up in your eyes, cunt all glistening and quivering as Geto blindly reaches behind to grab ahold of that remote again.

Intensity setting 4.

“And you’re too cute.” he drops his head, breath ghosting your lips. “So if you ask me nicely I might just-” Thumb playing around with the intensity, pressing down, hard. As if it would translate to your needy cunt, “-give you my cock, gorgeous.”

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-

It’s all you can do to keen as his fingers get faster on the remote, other hand getting so sloppy on his painfully hard cock. Matching that sinful little ah! ah! ah! leaving your swollen lips. Sinful - and stubborn, still refusing to say those words that you knew Geto wanted to hear so badly.

“Awww, still not giving up?” At your delirious little headshake, “Then how about this?”

Intensity setting 5.

And shit it makes you arch off the bed entirely. It makes you let out a strangled yelp of, “Oh- fuck. Fuck fuck fuck Sugu, m’gonna-” It makes you cum.

“Tha’s it.” Geto can’t help but let go of his aching cock to draw rough, messy little circles on your clit. Grinning at the way you’re so pretty when you cum untouched - all for him. Over and over and- He reaches over to catch your lips with his, tongue dancing with yours, around your soaked panties.

So filthy and dizzying that he almost forgets about that bet - almost. Because you’re murmuring something so incoherent into his lips.

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt-

God, doesn’t matter who wins next time - he needs to fucking do this again.

“What’s that?” he leans in tauntingly, pulling the fabric out of your mouth, finger still running circles around the intensity. Absolutely addicted to the way you’re twitching and whining at the aftershocks of your orgasm, “M’sorry, gorgeous, this vibrator is too loud. Speak up f’me, hm?”

“P-please fuck me, Sugu.”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 21 hours

If Choso had it his way, then you’d both still be at home and he’d be balls-deep inside your sloppy pussy - fucking you over and over into the mattress until the neighbours file another noise complaint.

But, alas, Jin Itadori was sure to hire a hitman - or worse, Sukuna - on him if he missed another family dinner. Which is how it ended up with you, sat so prettily across the table from him, watching through his long lashes at the way that red dress hugged you so sinfully.

So right, in a way that made Choso almost jealous. So irresistibly, in a way that had Sukuna looking over a few too many times and-

Choso’s chair almost hits the floor with how fast he stands.

Fuck it.

“Sh-shit, Choso I-”

“Keep ah- that dress up, baby. Unless ya wanna get it d-dirty.” he’s panting into your open mouth, tongue so hotly toying with yours as he gives you another harsh thrust. “Though, I don’t ngh- mind.”

And he was telling the truth, too. Choso was in no way gentle with the way he had you sat on the bathroom counter, flimsy dress bunched up at your hips. Strong arms spreading your legs so shamefully while he bullied his cock into you with reckless abandon.

Over and over and-

“Cho!” you yelp, as he hits that one spot so expertly. Flashing you a fucked-out grin as how you’re scrambling to cover your mouth. “Th-they’ll hear.”

“So?”

And it’s all you can do to stop your jaw from falling slack once more - both in disbelief and at the way he’s fucking you so mean. So desperately like he hasn’t in months - years, even. Just unfocused, sloppy movements to milk his cock on your snug cunt.

“I don’t mind hah- that either.” Hand dipping underneath your soaked panties - just lazily pulled to the side - to roll your swollen clit between two fingers. “W-what I do mind is my oh- fuck girl holdin’ out on me and wearing that fucking dress on the s-same day.”

Oh you knew you were pushing the limits of your sex ban by wearing his favorite dress, that it would drive him absolutely wild. You just didn’t know it would be this easy.

“But you promised.” you’re letting out such broken little whines, muffled through your fingers, ones that go straight to Choso’s achingly hard cock. “You hngh- promised we wouldn’t at your family’s…”

The only response you get is Choso rolling his hips deeper into yours, so bruising in a way you knew would make you feel so guilty even when all the marks are covered up. Leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck in time with the way he alternates between hitting your poor, abused cervix and that one spot.

Gasping out a ragged, “I know- I know I know fuck- Hah- I know.” Words strained - like he was losing a bit of his sanity with each thrust. And needed you to be the same. “But shit, baby. Do you know how p-pretty you look right now? Hngh- how fuckable?”

“Y-you’re so fuckin’ dirty.” you mewl, as if you were any better. As if your gummy walls weren’t sucking the fuckin soul out of Choso right now. “Should’ve made the ngh- sex ban even long-”

He bites down at the soft crook of your neck, growling out a little, “Don’t even joke about that.”

And if Choso expected a response, then he didn’t act that way.

Hips just erratic against yours, fingers even worse. Not even moving in circles anymore, just messy, sloppy patterns to-

No.

You gasp at the realization, the deft movements of Choso’s fingers, and it just makes you all the more fucked-out underneath him. Scrambling to grab at the counter - Choso’s hair - his shoulders - just anything and everything to stop yourself from alerting the entire household to what you two were up to. Letting him fuck you like his favorite sextoy, fingers so so messy and spelling out a relentless little C-H-O-S-O-C-H-O-S-

And then you’re cumming and cumming so hard that it almost hurts. Stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your eyes. Choso’s massive cock fucking any and every thought of the dinner just downstairs out of your mind.

“F-fuck fuck fuck- ngh- we’re never coming back here for dinner again.”

And it’s all you can do to drag your nails down his broad back, leaving deep red marks that make his balls squeeze so painfully.

It makes him throw his head back, gasping out your name so loud. It makes him pull your hips so bruisingly against his.

It makes him cum, spilling thick, hot ropes of cum into your pussy. So messy with the way it’s too much to bear, dribbling down your swollen folds, forming a lewd little pool below you. And Choso doesn’t give a fuck - doesn’t care if he leaves marks that everyone will see. Or if that slutty dress of yours has a suspicious little damp patch as he swiftly pulls out to snap your panties back in place.

Whispering lowly against your lips, “K-keep it in till we leave, hm?”

“Cho-”

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“The fuck? You brats fall in or something?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 2 days

The great Ryomen Sukuna has always been terrifying - but never before has he been this ruthless. So utterly savage. Destroying every single curse he comes across in the blink of an eye - friend or foe, big or small.

Why? All because he hasn’t been able to fuck your pretty lil’ cunt in two days. Which, in his opinion, are two days too long. All because of some stupid little experiment about wanting to see how long it would take to see the king of curses crack.

And when those trembling curses heard about this ah- sex ban through the grapevine, well, they wrote it off as another baseless rumor. Ha, Ryomen Sukuna cracking? Never.

“Please…brat.” he bites down on your earlobe, further pushing up your expensive robes - ones he’d bought just to get on your good side - to sink his cock deeper inside your heavenly cunt. “There I said it. Now jus’ a bit more-”

And maybe you’re a mastermind - maybe you’re an idiot. Because you’re digging your heels into the mattress, pushing off ever-so-slightly from his aching hard cock. So thick and angry as it slips out of your sloppy hole.

You bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently up at a pissed off Sukuna, “I didn’t like your tone.” Crossing your legs to cover that view he was so fixated on, “Either you beg n’ start all over again or-”

“Fine.” he grits out the word, like it physically hurt to. Though, nothing for what falls from his lips next, “Please.”

“Louder.”

“Please.”

There you had it. And you can’t help but smirk, “Well, I liked that one-”

Nothing more is said - in Sukuna’s eyes, nothing more has to be said. Because he’s got his favorite lil’ human all needy and spread so shamefully in front of him, what more could he want? Sukuna grabs your ankles, pulling you to him like a ragdoll. Wasting no time before he’s splitting you apart on his rock-hard cock.

“Ya don’t hah- know how many curses I killed these past two days.” he kisses your ankles so softly. “How many I wanted to kill.”

And God, if you didn’t know any better you’d say it’s like he wanted to kill you with the way Sukuna barely even gives you time to adjust. Stuffing you full of his cock, so hot and thumping against your gummy walls in a maddening little bump! bump! bump!

Letting out a strangled moan of, “There you go.” Brows scrunching together, looking wrecked already as he rocks his hips into yours - fast. Hard. hands coming up underneath your ass to arch you deeper into him, “Squeezin’ me so- tight. Heh, almost ”

“Oh hngh- ‘Kuna!” you moan, eyes snapping down to the way your cunt was taking him up so good. Puffy folds bulging around his massive cock, looking like they were sucking the fucking soul out of Sukuna as his massive cock disappears in and out in and out in and- “S’too- much-”

“Shut up.” he drops his head, one hand so bruising all over your body - groping your ass, your tits, playing with your throbbing clit. “Ya wanted hah- me to talk, right? And I say-” The other, squeezing your cheeks together into a pathetic lil’ pout, “Open up.”

It’s so embarrassing the way you can’t do anything but let your mouth fall open so sluttily, tongue lolling out just in time to catch the stream of saliva as Sukuna spits once. Twice.

So filthy with the way he lets it splatter against the corner of your mouth - on purpose.

“Wanted the king to beg, huh?” Each word is punctuated by such a harsh thrust, twitching balls stinging against your ass. “Well you got it. H-how does it feel, huh?”

And you couldn’t speak up even if you wanted to. Sukuna’s hand too tight around your face, cock too merciless. Slamming his hips down faster and faster as he runs his mouth, like he was taking revenge for the last two days. Again. And again. And again and again-

Grinning at your delirious little gurgles, “Heh, what? Can’t talk?”

And as if to prove his point, Sukuna loops two big arms around your waist, falling back on his knees with you sat like such a slut on his cock. Fingers lacing above your head to sink you impossibly deeper and deeper-

“Oh my god- K-” Your breath hitches as he fucks up into you so easily. Feeling more and more like some plaything with each ripple of his muscles underneath your legs. So hard you were sure it would leave marks - both confirming and condemning those rumors you knew have been flying around. His balls on your ass, thighs underneath yours, nails dragging lightly down your skin.

Resting on your waist, holding your quivering hips still as he grunts, “Now shut up. M’gonna get my fill of the last two days.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 4 hours

To the great Gojo Satoru, this droning, 4-hour meeting with the elders was a nightmare. To you, it was exactly where you wanted him

It wasn’t often that the strongest was tense - jittery, even, like he was about to jump out of his seat at any given moment. But, really, it was almost impossible not to, considering that stern talking-to you’d given him about “no sneaking out during meetings.” Especially when you’re sat across from him looking so beautifully unbothered.

Your smile too pretty, your uniform unbuttoned just enough that it gave him such a heavenly view when you bent over just so.

Oh, how Gojo wishes he could just-

And that was when he felt it.

That slow, slight touch up his inner thigh - so fleeting and light that he almost thinks he’s imagining it. But, no, Gojo could never mistake any touch from you.

It sends his entire skin burning to catch your eye ever-so-briefly from across the table. A tiny smirk gracing those pretty lips as your heel inches up, up, up-

“Gojo, do you have anything to comment on the recent increase in curse sightings?”

He stifles a groan underneath one palm, the other snaking under the table just in time to catch your ankle before you can carefully slip away. “I think…” he manages to grit out, heady gaze flitting over to yours, “-that is a question my lovely wife and I must discuss first.”

Oh?

And then, your back is hitting a plush mattress before you know it - long before the realization hits you that this bastard just fucking teleported the two of you to your bedroom.

“T-Toru-” you sputter out, whatever reprimand getting stuck in your throat at how desperate Gojo was acting. Your uniform buttons hitting the floor as he rips open your shirt, hands bunching up your skirt, only having enough patience to just pull aside your soaked panties, rolling your pretty clit between two fingers. Needy. “The meeting-”

“The meeting isn’t here now, right?”

Words so hoarse it takes you a moment to recognize it as your husband’s. You were only beginning to wonder just what the fuck you’ve gotten yourself into when Gojo tugs down his pants just enough that his rock-hard cock springs free.

And oh then it makes sense. Because Gojo was so hard that it looked painful - so so red, and angry. Soaked in enough precum that it made a damp little patch on his trousers, heavy balls twitching at the mere sound of your voice.

“D-didn’t I say no sneaking out this time, Toru?” You buck into his touch, despite your words, eyes locked on the way Gojo stops toying with your clit to pool your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips.

“You did.” Raising his long, glossy fingers to those pretty pink lips, “But this is teleporting, not sneaking out, sweetheart.”

Gojo’s like a man possessed as he pops your slick-covered fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sinful taste.

Gasping out a wet, “Fuck the ban. Can’t go without ya. Can’t-” One hand sliding his fat tip between your swollen folds, up and down up and down - spreading them apart, just barely dipping into your sloppy entrance. “-can’t live without this pretty cunt.”

And then it’s like something snaps - Gojo’s patience, his sanity, the last of his restraint as he sinks his throbbing cock into your plushy walls.

Pushing past that first, tight ring of muscle, and at the first feeling of your gummy walls milking his cock, he pants out a strained, “Fuck- oh fuck fuck fuck, yer the stuff of dreams, my girl. This cunt- ngh-” Pushing your legs further apart, fingers back on your clit “-would’ve fucked this cunt right in ah- front of those old toads. But, you’re lucky I’m a jealous man.”

“Oh- oh my god, s’too- too- big!”

God, you needed to spread your legs more - as if they weren’t being folded apart so easily by a delirious Gojo - maybe breathe, try to relax because Gojo was so big. And so unforgiving.

Feeling like he was pushing all the way into your lungs as he thrusts in quick, shallow little thrusts to bully himself inside your snug cunt. Jagged - like he was fighting with some absolutely, depraved, feral part of himself.

You can feel the way your hips are torn between pushing away and grinding back down for more more more- And Gojo can, too.

“No-” he hisses. Brows scrunching in frustration, hips becoming more and more sloppy - frenzied. “No no no no no- hold on, sweetheart. Need this, need this so bad.”

Going faster.

Deeper.

You sob, ankles locking around his slutty waist. “B-but Toru-” You make a feeble last attempt at regaining your sanity. Your entire body jolting as Gojo presses so hard on your clit. “-we should ngh- hurry up. W-we’ll be late to the meeting-”

But does it really matter? Gojo doesn’t think so, not when he finally bottoms out in one, rough thrust. Groaning as his sensitive balls smack your ass.

Your cunt so slutty and tight - sucking him up so good despite your cute lil’ pleas about something stupid like “responsibilities”.

So he really can’t help the way he wastes no time before reeling his hips back - all the way till his weeping tip is just kissing your sloppy hole. Before fucking into you completely - rough. Unrestrained. The same way he imagined taking you on that meeting room table. Over and over and-

“Not yet.” he grins against your lips, “We’re not done discussing the recent increase in curse sightings.”

A/N. Gojo’s came out toooo long I don’t even like this man fr (loud incorrect buzzer).

Plagiarism not authorized.

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steviescrystals · 4 months

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there is no feeling worse in the world than missing your grandma :/

#she died two months before my eighth birthday #and every time i realize i’ve lived well over half my life without her i go a little bit insane bc that just doesn’t feel right #like soooo many of my favorite memories are with her how is it possible she was only in my life for less than eight years #my grandpas on both sides died before i was born so all i’ve ever had is my grandmas #and there’s also the horrible guilt i feel all the time knowing my other grandma is still alive but i rarely ever see her #but when i was a kid she lived an hour and a half away from us and this grandma lived around the corner #so we saw her all the time and every christmas fourth of july etc that whole side of my extended family would all go to her house #she moved into that house when my mom was 2 years old and lived there for the rest of her life so 40 years #and when she went into hospice care her one request was to die in that house surrounded by her kids and grandkids so that’s what happened #my parents bought the house after she died but we lived there for less than 2 years before moving to arizona #they’re both from colorado but they met in arizona and me and my sisters were born here #and the main reason we moved back to colorado in the first place was to be near her #but when we moved again my parents sold the house to our neighbors who had two daughters that my sisters and i grew up with #and they’re still our family friends to this day and we used to go on trips to national parks together every summer #we didn’t see them for maybe five years but then two summers ago their older daughter got married and we went to her wedding #which got us talking about how long it had been since our last trip so we went on another one last summer #this has turned into a tangent but it just makes me so happy that they’re still in our lives #and this great family we’ve known almost my entire life is living in my grandma’s house #she had a pool in her backyard which is super common here in az but not so much in colorado #and she let us invite these girls over all the time to swim so they grew up spending almost as much time in that house as we did #last time we were in colorado we went to have dinner with them and swim and it was like being transported back to my childhood #that house is just so special to me and i felt so blessed to be able to go back there since this family bought it instead of strangers #in a perfect world everything would align in a way that would let me buy it when i’m older and have my own family there #i’ve never had a strong attachment to any other house we’ve lived in but that one will always be my grandma’s house in my mind #i just love and miss her so much she was the most amazing grandma i ever could have asked for #my mom still has a lot of her childhood friends on facebook and whenever she would post pictures of me and my sisters as kids #everyone would comment that i looked exactly like my grandma did when she was a kid and that makes me so so happy #anyway. idk. i just miss her sm she was an angel and i’m so happy she was such a big part of my childhood #lj.txt

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jiisoooo · 8 months

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as much as i like gojo, honestly I’m fine with him staying dead….nobara however needs to be revealed to still be alive or I’m gonna be inside gege’s walls

#bc if she’s actually dead that’s so unfair #it’s such a disservice to her character cuz she didn’t even get a chance to truly shine #which pisses me off bc there’s so much potential so much could’ve been done #like I understand nanami’s death for narrative purposes but nobara’s?????#like no there was no reason for her time in the story to be cut so short #and gojo I feel like he’s got his chance to shine too so #and again yeah gege did write himself into a corner with such a mega powerful character like gojo and characters like him usually #die anyway so #I’m still genuinely mad abt nobara’s death cuz now even if she does come back #she’s been gone for so long and ig the manga is reaching the end so she’ll still have too little screen time #aaghhhhh ☹️☹️☹️☹️#my baby girl deserves so much better :(

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ponderingmoonlight · 2 months

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Sharing a bed with kny men

Pairings: Yoriichi x fem!reader; Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 5,7k (lmao)

Warnings: injury in Yoriichi's part, smut in Sanemi's part so read if you're 18+, this is a long ass fic y'all, not proofread

This is actually my first time posting Sanemi smut and I'm super scared. Let me know what you think 🥹🤍

Also, do you want me to do other characters too?🫶

Yoriichi

I heard you @laurencrsnt 🫶

All your life, you never even thought about the possibility that maybe, you’ll encounter a demon someday. Why you, out of all people? Why especially you?

Even now with its cold eyes glaring down at you and your shoulder ripped open by its claws, you fail to find an answer for that. Is it your fate to die right here, when you only went out at night in order to buy medicine for your little sister who has fever? Is dying the cruelest death really your destiny when you wish for nothing more than growing old and watching your own children live their lives?

It’s unfair.

You shouldn’t lay here, crumpled onto the still wet street. You shouldn’t feel the sensation of your eyes watering, your hands trembling, your heart racing.

This shouldn’t be your last day walking on this earth. You didn’t even have the chance to find the man of your dreams yet…

It’s ridiculous and you know it, that spark of determination that rushes through your bones. All of the sudden you spring back onto your feet and start running. Out of the city, away from the lit streets straight into the dark woods.

Even if you have to die here, you won’t give up this easily. You won’t allow this demon to end your life without putting up a fight.

“Why do you girls always think you can run away, huh? It’s too easy to sweep you off your feet”, the demon behind you comments dryly.

With a swift motion of his hand, it digs open your tender flesh all over again, sends your violent scream echoing through the lonely forest. You fall to the ground like a bag of rice, your torn leg now refusing its service completely.

“Let me go!”, you shriek in horror.

No, you don’t want to die here, you just want to go back to bed and forget about this.

But the forest ground isn’t your bed and the demon in front of you who’s ready to slice through your throat isn’t only a nightmare.

Your heart sinks to the floor, body suddenly feeling numb and lifeless. You will die here.

“I’ll keep you in good memory. Well, at least for tonight”, the demon jeers at you.

You close your eyes, desperately try to imagine your little sister. She’ll find herself a loving husband and her very own family without any doubt. Even without you around, her life will turn out alright. Even without you around, life goes on. You don’t have to feel sad or guilty, you just have to let go…

“Get away from that woman.”

A low male voice, so charismatic that you think you might dream. He sure must be handsome. Men with voices like that always have a matching face.

A slicing blade, a dull thud. But no claws that dig into your flesh one last time, no bow of relief that you’ve been awaiting for quite some time by now. Your eyelids start shivering. When is this finally over?

“Are you alright? Please allow me to help you up.”

The second something touches your skin, your eyes snap open in an instant. But they aren’t greeted by those venomous red orbs from earlier. No, these ones are soft but strong and have that calming fuchsia color. This isn’t a demon.

This is a man.

“Don’t be afraid. The demon is gone”, he continues speaking with his low voice.

You have no control over your own body and shivering limbs. It’s impossible for you to say a single word. Are you really out of danger? Is it really over?

When he pulls you off the ground, a violent scream escapes your lips. No, you don’t want to die, you don’t want your life to end tonight. Not like this, not without saying goodbye.

“Please calm down, everything is alright now”, the stranger tries to reassure you, but his words don’t even reach your ringing ears.

You gasp for air like a fish on land, forehead now covered in ice cold sweat. This can’t be your end.

If Yoriichi doesn’t act now, you might faint due to your stress. But what is he supposed to do? You don’t seem to listen to his words and touching you might only make it worse. Maybe you need, assurance?

“I won’t hurt you, see? My hands have no intention of doing you any harm.”

Gently, he glides his fingertips up and down your uninjured harm. Despite the look of horror on your face and your gaping wounds, you do have a lovely face and truly remarkable eyes.

“I came here to help you”, he continues until his fingertips finally brush over your tear-soaked face.

What is this feeling of warmth deep inside his chest? You aren’t the first woman he saved from the claws of a demon.

“I would like to accompany you on your way back home-“

“No”, you suddenly blurt out.

Even though lying in bed on your own was all you were able to think about just a few moments ago, the thought feels like a threat now. What if another demon follows you back home? What if your little sister gets attacked because of your foolishness? No, you simply can’t go back now. But on the other hand…Just the thought of sleeping alone here in the woods runs shivers down your spine.

“I…I’ll find a place to stay. Otherwise…they might harm my sister…”, you mutter.

“Allow me to escort you to my estate, then.”

You yank your head to the side in sheer disbelief, eyes searching for a spark of humor in his calming orbs. Is he really serious about that? After all, you’re a stranger. He doesn’t even know your name. Now that you think of it…who is this?

“How can I know for sure that you aren’t a demon yourself?”

“Take my hand”, he instructs you gently.

Is this really a good idea? You take a deep breath in, try to calm down your pounding heart. What do you have to lose?

When your shaky fingers wrap themselves around his much larger hand, you get ingulfed by warmth. His palms feel rough but also comforting against your bruised skin.

“Demons are cold since they are dead”, he explains briefly.

“But I am not. I am a demon slayer. It is my only destiny to safe innocent souls from their death.”

Oh. Your gaze drifts towards a katana that hangs dangles from his belt. No, demon don’t find with those weapons. So, are those words really true?

“You…You want to help me?”

“I’d love to help you if you allow me to.”

What has gotten into him? Did he really offer you to hold his hand, let alone to sleep at his house so you don’t have to fear the night on your own? Never in his life, Yoriichi allowed himself to develop feelings apart from empathy for those around him.

But those eyes. Those eyes of yours really captivate him, devour him fully. How is he supposed to leave you out here, soaked in your own blood with bruises all over your body?

“You…really would?”

Is this really okay? When you were a child, your mother told you over and over that you aren’t allowed to talk to strangers, let alone man.

But…does that also include the handsome, charismatic and armored ones?

“I keep my word. Also, your wounds need care as well. Please, allow me to help you.”

What do you have to lose.

“If that’s the case, I’d love to take your offer”, you reply shyly.

“I’m glad to hear that. I will show you the way-“

A loud groan escapes your lips before you’re able to stop it. His charismatic eyes almost made you forget about the gaping wound the monster from before inflicted on you.

Almost.

“You shouldn’t move your leg with a wound like that. I will carry you to my estate.”

“You will…carry me?”, you mutter with widened eyes.

But just when you try to take a step forward, his words become painfully clear. No, there really is no way you’ll be able to walk anywhere with that leg. But allowing him to carry you?

“I might be a little heavy.”

“Let me assure you, you aren’t heavy at all.”

“Fine…”, you grumble.

“But only a few meters.”

Gently, he stranger wraps his arms around your shoulder and knees before he starts walking.

He smells good. Like a field of flowers on a sunny day. And the way his heart beats against your cheek reminds you that you’re still alive, that you survived somehow.

This man saved you.

“I didn’t even thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me. This is the least I can do for you after I almost came too late.”

He stares blankly at the blood that still drips from your leg. Just a few seconds later and that demon would have killed you with him simply watching. Why? Why is he not able to save them all, why is he still not good enough to stop this madness?

“Don’t tense up, don’t think anything less of yourself because I was injured. I was a fool for leaving the house this late at night on my own.”

Despite the fact that cold sweat still runs down your forehead and even though your fingertips still shake in shock, you cup his cheek and force his troubled eyes to look at you.

“I am beyond thankful for my rescue. The worst thing about dying today would have been leaving my little sister behind. But you saved me. And not only that, you even offered me a safe place to stay for the night. I really don’t know if…If I’d be able to sleep on my own tonight…”

The stranger doesn’t say a word, his eyes roaming around your face without a real aim.

“Oh, I didn’t even ask. What’s your name?”

“My name is not important-“

“I’m (y/n)”, you introduce yourself friendly.

“My…my name is Yoriichi”, the man carrying you mumbles.

Yoriichi. An unusual name that you’ve never heard before.

“That name suits you well.”

“We’ll arrive soon. I hope you don’t expect a big mansion since I am living in a rather small cottage-“

“I’m living in a tiny barrack in the city. A house in the woods sounds like a dream”, you mutter.

The second you open your eyes again, you find yourself in a wooden cabin with a plain futon lying on the floor and an improvised kitchen in the back of the house. Nothing special, very fitting for the man who gently lowers you onto the futon.

“I will take care of your wounds now”, he announces before taking off his haori and katana.

Without his threatful weapon dangling from his belt, he looks like a normal man.

If it wasn’t for those captivating eyes. He has to be the most breathtaking man you’ve ever seen.

“Fortunately, the cut on your leg isn’t deep. I’ll disinfect the wound and bandage it”, he explains briefly before his skilled hands spring into action.

“You really are good at everything”, you comment.

He’s so gentle that even the alcohol that disinfects your wound doesn’t seem to burn. Why have you never stumbled across him? You were so sure that you know each and every man around that it almost drove you insane. But him? He’s different from all the others. He’s truly special.

“You will have to take your kimono off. I need access to the wound on your shoulder.”

Oh.

“Y-yeah, sure…”

Hesitantly, you pull the blood-soaked fabric down your shoulder so that only your chest is still covered. Yoriichi’s eyes seem to gleam in the moonlight like liquid metal.

“You look lovely”, he flusters into the night.

He doesn’t know what has gotten into him. Is it the alcohol rising up his nose, the smell of blood that radiates from your bruised body that makes him say those strange things?

No. It has to be because of those eyes of yours. Those eyes that captivated him from the moment he first saw them.

"Thank you," you stammer, your cheeks flushing as you nervously tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You too," you add quickly, immediately regretting your awkward response.

Both you and Yoriichi swallow hard, the atmosphere in the room suddenly changing.

“I am finished. You should rest for tonight. After all, this was a draining fight for you”, he mutters while getting up.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, heart still hammering so roughly against your ribcage that you’re almost sure he’s able to hear it. What was this tension?

“But…this is your futon-“

“You are my guest. Of course, I will sleep on the floor on the other side of the room.”

Oh. A wave of disappointment rushes over you before you’re able to stop it. What were you expecting, secretly hoping? That this man will share a bed with you?

Honestly, yes.

“You…you really don’t have to…”

Oh, how much Yoriichi wished he wouldn’t have to.

“I insist on taking the floor.”

“I actually want you to sleep by my side. Please.”

The begging tone in your voice stops him mid-track.

“This night was…horrible. A little company would definitely help, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all”, he replies a little too hasty.

“I just don’t want to invade your personal space. After all, I’m a stranger.”

“A really kind stranger”, you add shyly.

Are you acting out of line? You shouldn’t push him to sleep next to you when his offer to let you sleep here is already generous enough, right?

“Forget my question, I was acting out of line-“

“No, not at all. I would love sleeping besides you.”

He crosses the room in an instant and kneels down next to you.

“But let me know whenever I become too much.”

What a ridiculous thought. Why would he ever become too much? Him, your savior, that remarkable man.

You scoot over until your back is pressed against the cool wall, eyes still fixated on his gleaming eyes. Will you really be able to sleep tonight when this is the first time ever a man lies beside you?

And what a handsome one on top.

“You should try to sleep now. Nothing will happen to you as long as I am here”, he reassures you.

That is the least he can do after failing to protect you in the first place.

“Again, thank you for all of this. I definitely own you a favor”, you mumble.

Suddenly your lids start to get heavy, your mind slows down bit by bit. Maybe this rough night really took its toll on you. Is It the safety he radiates, his calming smell? In the matter of seconds, only your low and even breath is heard.

Finally, Yoriichi is able to allow himself a closer look at you. You look so peaceful and innocent with a face so remarkably beautiful that he can’t stop staring. You have to be the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. A man like him really doesn’t deserve lying next to a woman like you. Maybe he should give you space, leave you now that you fell asleep-

With a quiet groan, you draw closer to him in your sleep until your head rests on top of his chest and with your arms wrapped around his upper body.

He doesn’t dare to move an inch, eyes widen in utter surprise. Is this…cuddling? His mind races back and forth, eyes resting on your calm features. What is he supposed to do now?

Hesitantly, he allows his hand to rest on your back. What an unknown sensation, all those feelings that rise up his chest right where your hand rests.

For the first time since forever, he is the one who feels safe.

He is the one who feels loved.

He is the one who feels warm.

And you? You cuddle yourself against him until the sun rises all over again.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

This one's for you @muichirolover14 🤍

“This is bullshit”, the man walking next to you mumbles under his breath.

“Keep focused. It was Kagaya-sama’s personal wish that the two of us go on this mission together”, you mumble with a fake smile decorating your bright red lips.

And that’s the only reason why you agreed in the first place. Why else would you pretend to be Sanemi Shinazugawa’s personal concubine if it wasn’t for Kagaya-sama and this undercover mission?

The plan is pretty simple. Countless people, including other demon slayers, lost their lives in this little innocent village that becomes a red-light district at night. Nobody knows why or who is responsible for this.

One of the upper moons, maybe.

It just made sense to dress you up as a concubine. After all, you are the light hashira, a mighty swordswoman and probably the most talented out of Mitsuri and Shinobu when it comes to acting.

And then there’s him. You glance at Sanemi’s annoyed face from the side. Why on earth did Kagaya-sama choose him? What about Rengoku, Giyu, Obanai, Tengen, Gyomei? Aren’t they a way better fit?

You sign to yourself.

Truth is, they aren’t. While Rengoku, Obanai, Tengen and Gyomei would stand out immediately, Giyu would never be able to sell you as his concubine. No, no one except the wind hashira is able to make this look natural.

No one but him looks this good in a dark green kimono.

What?

“Stop staring at me like that, brat”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“I was just hoping you might disappear if I stare long enough, idiot”, you bite back in frustration.

Why does he always have to be so mean, though? You really tried to get along with him countless times, put on the most precious smile whenever you talked to him and made sure to always bring him ohagi whenever you had the chance to. But Sanemi Shinazugawa never stopped hating you. And eventually, a part of you started to dislike him as well. That one part though…

You allow your eyes a minor glimpse at his barely exposed chest. That tiny part deep within your head is somehow still drawn to him. And you hate it.

“Aren’t concubines supposed to shut up?”

“Watch your mouth or I’ll leave immediately.”

“Both of us know you wouldn’t do that.”

You let out your shaky breath, your hand crushing his while you wear the same friendly smile as before.

“Don’t mess with me, Shinazugawa”, you speak out with low voice.

His face tenses up ever so slightly, hand fighting for freedom out of your merciless grasp.

“You’ll regret talking to me like that when we’re alone, brat.”

-at the estate-

“I’d like to show you to my newest possession. Please introduce yourself”, Sanemi speaks out.

Like Amane-sama showed you, you bow in front of the man that looks you up and down with his filthy eyes.

“My name is Kiyomi”, you introduce yourself oh so sweetly.

“That name really suits you. What a beauty you are. I’m sure I’d find a lot of paying customers for you here”, the disgusting man purrs and stretches out his hand in order to touch your face.

“Don’t touch the goods”, Sanemi barks at him immediately before slapping his dirty hand away.

Who does this guy think he is, trying to touch you so casually? No. That jerk isn’t allowed to caress your face. The plain thought of men like him getting to put their hands on you…

Sanemi’s guts turn.

“Aren’t you here to sell her and yourself for the night? If that’s the case, she won’t be your good anymore for the next few hours but mine.”

He smiles at you through rotten teeth, his breath almost forcing you to choke. You are only here to detect the demon who is responsible for the countless deaths in this area. You don’t have to touch any of these men. None of them will touch you.

What about Sanemi, though? An uneasy feeling rises up your chest when your eye catches a group of women who stare him up and down with lust in their eyes. Will he allow himself a taste before continuing with this mission? Will he find a woman he is attracted to? All of them look flawless, too good to even consider the service of a paid men. But if that man looks like Sanemi…

“You will find your room to the right. This is where the female customers choose their good. After paying, you belong to them”, the man explains briefly while showing both of you around.

“Why would these women pay for the services of a man? This is a noble region that is well-inhabited by countless men”, you blurt out.

“It’s not about them being men. It’s about looks. Only the fine-looking men even get the chance to work here for the night”, he explains briefly.

Fine-looking man, huh? Well, there is no doubt in the fact that Sanemi suits that description way too good. With his firm muscles highlighted by scars from countless battles, he looks like a walking god. Let alone his perfect face, his eyes that now look soft and seducing without being irritated constantly. His white hair that frames his features perfectly.

“As for the women, we look for a broad variety of bodies, looks and personalities. You are very easy on the eye and mysterious. I’m sure countless customers will fall for that.”

“And what…what services do they expect?”

The man in front of you bursts out in hysteric laughter, you can feel Sanemi’s eyes piercing through your skull.

“What they expect? Intercourse and everything that revolves around it, of course! Do you think they pay you for some cuddles and nice words?”

You swallow hard. There is no need to do that, right? You’ll somehow shrug them off and investigate this place at night. Maybe you’ll find the demon right away and-

“Now, you are a fine-looking man. Who is this?”, a woman suddenly purrs out of the shadows.

“A new worker for the night”, the disgusting man explains with a dirty smile.

“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll definitely make a reservation.”

“It would be an honor, my lady”, suddenly replies in the same cheeky tone

Your guts turn in an instant, eyes narrowing slightly as you watch how a smile forms itself on Sanemi’s usual resting lips.

“What a gentleman he is. I cannot wait to meet you.”

“The honor is on my side, my lady.”

And then he steps in front of her. Elegantly, he grabs the hand she already holds out and kisses her knuckles. Your heartrate quickens, the warm flush that starts creeping up your face barely covered by your makeup.

Fucking asshole. So he’s acting like a jerk towards you all this time while treating other women like this? You hate the knot that forms itself in your throat, the disgusting feeling of disappointment that rushes over you.

Does he really hate you this much?

“Well, I think I should introduce myself to the customers as well. Have a pleasant night, Sir”, your monotone voice speaks out on its own.

With one last bow towards him, you follow the man into the women’s corridor without even gifting him a single look. Sanemi can’t help but furrow his eyebrows at your sudden reaction. Did you really want to get rid of him so badly? Maybe you’ll actually meet up with some of those guys and…

“Are you interested-“

“I will meet up with you later this evening, my lady. Please excuse me.”

Without another look or word, he storms into his assigned room and closes the door behind him.

Sanemi’s mind starts going insane. What if you actually like one of those guys? Or what if one of them hurts you, tries to force you into something you don’t want? He heard the worst stuff about places like this.

Fuck, he shouldn’t have let you go in the first place. Why you? This mission is way too dangerous for someone like you, for someone this gorgeous-

“I’m losing my fucking mind”, he mutters through gritted teeth.

“I can’t do this”, you breathe out in sheer panic while lying in bed.

No, just the thought of Sanemi having the fun of his life with that girl from earlier feels like ripping your beating heart out of your chest. Will he really share a bed with them?

If it’s for the mission, he definitely would. Nothing is greater than his urge to kill demons, especially when it comes to an upper ranked one. That little sacrifice wouldn’t stop him.

And it breaks your dumb heart.

A hard knock on the door rips you out of your running thoughts. Is this your first customer? All color drains from your face, eyes widen in horror with every bow against the wooden door.

“Just a moment”, your shaky voice shouts.

You…Do you have to look presentable? You have to think about the things you can tell him. Maybe you don’t even have to sleep with him, maybe this will distract you from the things Sanemi is probably doing right now.

You open the door.

And stare straight into the furious eyes of Sanemi Shinazugawa.

Before you’re even able to react, he pushes himself into your room and closes the door behind him before yanking you against the wall.

“What did you do?”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

Your heart starts hammering roughly against your ribcage. Him? Here?

“What the hell are you doing he-“

“Answer my question right now!”, he barks into your face.

“I didn’t do anything!”, you shriek.

“What the hell has gotten into you!?”

“Has somebody touched you?”

His rough hands start running up and down your neck, yank the sleeves of your kimono upwards in a haste.

“What?”, you breathe out.

What the hell is going on? Just when you managed to pull your arm away from him, he grabs your wrist again with his face only inches away from yours.

“Did somebody touch you?”, he screams into your face.

“No!”, you cry back.

“But why would you even care? It looked like you had plenty of fun!”

He shakes his head while looking at you in utter surprise and confusion.

“What non-sense are you talking now-“

“Did you sleep with that woman from earlier when I was gone?”

God, you hate the way your voice cracks in the middle of the sentence, you hate the way your eyes fill with hot tears. He came here to confront you with all those accusations while he was out there having the time of his life, while all you were able to think about is him?

“No, I didn’t sleep with anyone!”

“Stop lying to me!”

“You’re the only one I want!”, he suddenly blurts out breathlessly.

“What?”, you utter in hushed panic.

This has to be a cruel joke, an unforgiving way to stop you from doing anything. Sanemi Shinazugawa, wanting you?

“Since I first saw you with your fucking perfect face and so melodic voice, I can’t think about anything else! You, sleeping with some random guy while I’m just a few doors away. I can’t take it!”

He grabs your head with both hands, eyes staring at you so intensely that you feel like collapsing any minute. If that’s really true, if that’s really how he feels…

“But…I want you too”, you squirm.

“I always wanted you, Sanemi.”

His lips crash against yours with so much power that you almost fall over. Suddenly his hands are all over your body, tongue unforgiving as he discovers your mouth with a passion you’ve never felt before. You allow your very own hands to finally discover the deep valleys of his muscular back, to let your hasty fingertips wander over his tight chest.

It becomes unbearable. Everything starts to become unbearable. That minor gap between your bodies, the clothes that still deny you full access to his naked skin, the feeling of not having enough.

“I need more”, you whimper against his lips, not even knowing what exactly you’re asking about.

Sanemi lifts you up with ease, not even breaking the kiss when he pushes you onto the bed with his massive body lingering on top of you.

You feel like suffocating in the most exquisite way.

“I’ll give you whatever you want”, he breathes against your lips that now find your neck.

A whimper escapes your mouth before you can stop his, body rearing up underneath him.

“S-Sanemi!”

“Fuck”, he hisses before his dark eyes meet you again in distress.

“Tell me you want this.”

“I…what?”

You can’t produce a single logical sound, head still spinning from the unknown sensation that starts building up inside your stomach. Is this what desire feels like?

“Tell me you want this too. Tell me you want me.”

“I wanted you all this time”, you reply without thinking twice.

With a swift motion, you find yourself engulfed by his arms with his lips caressing yours all over again. Like in trance, you begin opening his kimono, expose his bare skin to your merciless eyes.

“You look so shamelessly good”, you whimper.

Oh, how often you pondered about how his chest feels like, if his scars are soft or as rough as his walls.

“Can I…?”

His hands grab the ends of your kimono, eyes staring down at you flustered. Is that blush creeping up his cheeks?

“It’s just…You know…I’ve never done this before…”, you stammer.

“Do I look like I did, idiot?”, he mutters while gently taking off your kimono until you lay underneath him.

Completely naked.

“I mean, yes…”

“No, I didn’t”, he barks.

“I guess I waited for someone special…”

“I did as well”, you reply in an instant.

Is this real or are you dreaming? Sanemi Shinazugawa laying on top of you fully nude. Sanemi Shinazugawa stating that he likes you. Sanemi Shinazugawa’s hand that start moving downwards…

Until he reaches between your legs and simply takes your breath away.

“Are you okay?”, he mutters, eyes filled with worry.

You nod absently, eyes rolling back into your skull. God, this feels like heaven. When a groan escapes his lips, you completely lose yourself. Out of instinct, you grab his neck and yank him even closer towards you, your hot breath clashing against his face.

“Sanemi!”

His name sounds like a prayer coming from your mouth, forces his fingers to move even faster. Is this good? Is he doing everything alright? Your whimpers grow louder and louder, nails digging into his now oversensitive skin with so much pressure that it threatens to burst. You look so gorgeous with your eyes pressed shut, your delicate mouth forming an “o”.

And then you burst right underneath him, scream his name over and over again with your legs shaking. He can’t wait no longer, can’t contain himself another second.

“I need you”, he mutters.

“Please, let me have you.”

“Yes”, you breathe out, mind still spinning when the firework that just exploded in your lower body slowly starts wearing off.

Until you feel him all over again. But this time, not his fingers. Your glossy eyes widen in utter surprise when he carefully stretches you out and disappears inside of you, hands holding onto him for dear life.

“Are you okay?”, he whimpers.

“Please…give me…more…”

He almost loses his mind, the new sensation almost eating him up alive. Countless nights, he dreamed about what it might be like to have you, what it would feel like. But the reality is so much better than any dream.

Sanemi picks up his pace and grabs your waist passionately in order to keep you in place. Over and over, again and again your sticky skin collides with his until he threatens to burst.

“You’re mine”, he presses out through gritted teeth while pounding into you.

“I’m all yours, Sanemi!”, you cry out, nails now leaving marks on his skin.

“I need…ah! I need you! Please!”

He knows exactly what you’re asking for. One last time, he picks up the pace while holding onto you for dear life.

Until finally, you scream his name. Finally, he’s able to let it all go.

“(y/n)!”

He collapses on top of you, his weight leaving you dizzy and unable to move. None of you dares to make a move, the only thing that’s filling the room being your shaky and sharp breaths.

“I love you, (y/n)”, Sanemi finally mutters, his hand caressing your cheek oh so gently.

“I love you too-“

“Mission report, mission report! Kagaya-sama requires a mission re- AH!”

“Get out of here right now!”, Sanemi barks at the crow that casually entered the room.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!?”

“Get out!”, Sanemi screams on top of his lungs before yanking up and hunting the crow butt-naked through the room

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt

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gutsby · 6 months

Text

Diehard

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel tries Viagra for the very first time.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Erectile dysfunction. Daddy kink. Praise kink if you squint. Overstimulation. Cumplay. She/her pussy pronouns. Pushing physical limits with a pre-negotiated safe word in place for it.

Note: No more limp dick erasure. We die like [old] men.

Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse | Word count: 986

Joel just wanted to prove he could fuck like he used to.

He didn’t think he’d almost kill you in the process.

“JOEL!” you screeched, heels digging deep in the mattress as your climax came in seismic waves.

The stimulation was insane. Normally the much-older man would have been down for the count after two—and usually one—big O, but now his chest was heaving, hips relentlessly beating a punishing pace against your own.

Your walls were slick with not only your cum but his, milky ropes of his arousal making for an obscene set of sounds every time his dick slid in and out of your cunt. You could feel his balls tighten and twitch with every forthcoming spurt of him, practically reeling with the pulse of each new sticky gift inside you. His groans rumbled low, but the power and pleasure and outright primal fervor they conveyed were unmistakeable. You had to look down, feebly, to believe it yourself—Joel never fucked his way through your orgasm and his.

Then you felt a palm slide up the back of your head, and Joel held it up to make sure you watched him fuck you.

“J-Joel,” you whimpered, watching his girth disappear and reappear at least a half-dozen times as you did.

“Just a little more, honey,” he murmured against your forehead. The smack of each thrust was dizzying, “Want my pretty girl nice and full’a me before she leaves, okay?”

Joel never could let you head back to college without a few of his loads and a head full of filthy memories—something to hold you over until your next visit home. You would’ve liked to mumble back, ‘Okay,’ but then your pussy clenched around him, and his thrusts grew faster.

“My sweet girl,” he grinned, “She likes that, huh?”

You could scarcely manage a nod. The weight of your head was held fully by him, and if that wasn’t indicative enough of your fucked-out state, your face surely said the rest. When Joel leaned back to adjust the angle of his thrusts, he caught sight of your hooded, glossy stare and almost came all over again. He slowed his pace for once.

Then he dipped a finger between your body and his, just long enough to douse the tip of his digit with cum. He bottomed out inside you, watched you part your lips in a gentle gasp, and pressed his touch to that open space.

It was almost like you didn’t have the strength to suck. You just let him smear the sticky stuff along your lower lip, gaze plastered to his. Then Joel’s cock sank deeper.

“O-ow!” you whined, partly reanimated by the stretch.

“You can take it,” Joel grunted.

The double entendre wasn’t lost on you. You could, and would, take his finger and his cock inside. You suckled dumbly on the cum-drenched fingertip in assent.

But when Joel’s finger popped out of your mouth and his thrusts picked back up, you weren’t entirely convinced you would be able to hold up the second half of that deal.

It wasn’t fair. He took one magic pill, and poof, his dick stayed hard for half the fucking day. You had nothing but your youth and two shaking legs to ensure your survival. When Joel worked his cock back and forth a couple more times and it seemed your body was about ready to scream, you took hold of his biceps and squeezed tight.

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

The tip of his cock nicked a soft ridge inside you, and you jolted back. Joel’s palm was still pressed to your head, holding you to him, and his hips had you pinned as well.

Instead of answering, you whimpered.

You didn’t want him to stop, but you also weren’t sure if you could handle any more. Your eyes met his, pleading.

“Can’t what?” Joel pressed, a little more sternly.

Another whimper. Inside, Joel’s cock was rubbing that pleasure point raw, and you felt another climax coming.

“Use your words.”

“Too— too—”

Each new thrust was sending stars before your eyes. Joel was one sick man if he tried to make you talk while he fucked you past the point of all intelligible speech.

“Too what? Tell me, baby.”

You’d get that fucker back someday. Joel just grinned.

“Too much,” you hissed when his hips delivered another mind-numbing push. Then, feeling pleasure threaten to peak at almost a painful degree, “Toomuchtoomucht—”

Joel continued thrusting, knowing damn well you knew what to say if you really wanted him to stop. As if to underscore this point, he tipped your head back and made you hold his gaze, features creased with a frown.

“That sure don’t sound like the safe word to me.”

It wasn’t. You knew it wasn’t. He didn’t need to tell you twice, or even breathe a second word besides. With one more brush of Joel’s thick, throbbing, implausibly hard cock, he sent you over the edge and into your fourth orgasm of the morning, hitting that spot again and again.

And again.

Just like before, Joel fucked you through each wave, catching your lips this time to stifle your cries. You might’ve gone blind for a second or two, but that was alright; the pleasure, proximity, and then the sweet, erratic pulse of his cock sending rope after rope of his cum deep inside made the overstimulation worthwhile.

Your body went limp against the bed, held tight in Joel’s grasp, when you felt that sickly sweet dichotomy of soft, tender touches and a cock lodged between your walls that was as hard as it had ever been. Still trying to console you with kisses, still trying to warm you up for another round, perhaps, Joel almost laughed out loud in your mouth when you groaned into his and whispered:

“Please don’t ever take that fucking pill again.”

#SOMETIMES I WRITE THIS MIDDLE-AGED MAN LIKE HE’S 25 AND JUST NEED TO SHUT THE F*CK UP #*brittany broski voice* BE REALISTIC!!!!!!!#BE F*CKING FOR REAL #FOR A SECOND BE FOR REAL #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel

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staraxiaa · 3 months

Text

sunflowers

pairing: bakugou katuski x f! reader contains: childhood frenemies to lovers, fluff, mutual pining status: standalone, one-shot, completed wc: 17840

note: canon-compliant but i bend it; early childhood and then up to season 3. also cross-posted to ao3.

summary: there you stand at the beginning of the world, with you and your sunflowers; your lovely liar's smile.

The first time you meet Bakugou Katsuki, you are six-turning-seven, and you remember it well. Not just because it’s the first day of school, or even that it’s your birthday. Rather, you remember it because of him, and though you think you would rather die than admit it, there is some part of you⏤ a more rational part⏤ that can temper itself down to acknowledge the fact.

You remember it well, because that morning, your mother makes sure to doll you up extra pretty. She dons you in a frilled dress like it is your armor, taking extra care with your hair, its bows, and she does: so much that there is an extra skip to your step as you walk. You don’t just feel pretty, you know you are; a work of art atop a work of art. But you still make sure to say your thank yous to all the unfamiliar faces that compliment you with gummy smiles and a not-so-quiet, conspiratorial grin. “It’s my birthday!”

You remember the way your cheeks hurt from forcing the wideness of it, the way you think it has started to sound like a mantra. You remember smiling, nonetheless, at his friend, as he wishes you a happy birthday! in return⏤ you are smiling at his friend, and not him.

You remember it well, because the first time you ever meet him, he looks you up and down, clad in your careful curls and prettiest dress⏤ and dares to call you ugly.

If you were anyone else, you might’ve taken the words like a physical blow. Already, your new friends are tensing for the inevitable confrontation. “You can’t just say that to her,” Sueko says, her eyes already narrowing in a glare.

“And who the hell are you, extra?” The crimson-eyed boy scowls right back.

The other girl wilts a bit, but her glare remains set.

You decide, right there and then, that she is your new best friend.

You smile. If you were anyone else, you might’ve taken the words like a physical blow. But you don’t just feel pretty, you know you are; a work of art atop a work of art. So you only give him your kindest smile, because your mother told you to play nice in the morning, as she brushed out your hair. You make sure to give him a once over, glancing down, and then up.

“It’s okay!” Your eyes curve, ingratiatingly polite; ingratiatingly sweet. “Some people are just born blind. And stupid.”

“HAH?” His reaction is exactly what you hoped for, and it’s almost too easy. “WHO THE HELL ARE YOU CALLING⏤”

The slight quirk of your mouth is amused, but you only turn, pointedly, to your new best friend. “Any chance you’re free this weekend? Let’s hang out.”

She stutters an answer, eyes darting between you, and the blond you know is seething behind you, if the glare he’s practically boring into the back of your head means anything.

You tilt your head to the side. A little inquiry, a little push. “So?”

Hands slam down on your desk, cutting out her squeaked yes. You jump a little at the sound, your eyes widening⏤ both a little bit at the sound, and how close his face suddenly is. All of a sudden, you’re glad you didn’t call him ugly right back⏤ it would have sounded petty, after all, and almost certainly would have bit you right in the foot, considering how this crimson-eyed boy is so clearly not.

“I’m talking to you.” Well. You think, he’d probably be a great deal prettier if wasn’t glaring down at you, face contorted in what seems like half snarl, half scowl.

His friend adds, a little bit placatingly. “Bakugou-san’s not stupid. He’s really smart, actually, always been top of the class. He’s really cool!”

You note the way the class eyes him, the way the blond’s eyeing the door. He grunts. “I also have twenty-twenty vision.” His chin raises, arrogance in the set of his features, a bit calmer at the praise, but also a touch quieter, almost a bit wary.

The door opens. He glances back, just as a man walks in, old enough that you assume that he is your teacher.

It takes effort to keep the shit-eating grin from spreading across your features. “Are you sure?” You ask instead, completely straight-faced. ( You should really consider acting, you think. You’re practically a genius! ) You simper, a hand covering your mouth. “Could’ve fooled me.”

It’s almost too easy, you think, the way he explodes, literally.

“YOU WANNA FIGHT, EXTRA?” Miniature blasts pepper the table, and you might have thought it intimidating, if it’s not for the way your sensei is stalking over, looking almost as murderous as the boy himself. “I’LL KILL YOU!”

You coo a little, fearless with the backing of your newfound supporter. “You’re really scary. That’s illegal, you know.”

He opens his mouth. But then⏤ “Bakugou. Seeing as it’s the first day, you won’t be getting detention.” His mouth closes mutely. You grin a little at the way he’s being pulled away from your desk, fingers still clutching at the edges of it⏤ by the scruff of his collar, and somewhat like a dog, you think.

His eyes flash, a little bit angry, a little bit dangerous. He points one grubby finger in your direction. “She started it!”

The sensei also pins you with a stern look. “The next time this happens, the both of you’ll be staying after class to clean, as detention. Am I clear?”

You gape at both of them. It’s half genuine, half not. You think this verdict is a little unfair. The boy grins, smug.

A complaint is on the tip of your tongue, then you see the sensei’s expression: deadpan, tired, and unsympathetic. You sober up, frowning a little.

“Okay. Sorry, sensei. I’ll try.”

The crimson-eyed boy is still glaring at you, a little victorious, a little smug, but with a gleam in his eyes. This is war, they seem to say, silent and from across the room.

Little does he know, it has been, ever since the moment he decides to look you up and own, clad in your careful curls and prettiest dress⏤ and calls you ugly.

You blow him a kiss.

He jolts. The face he makes is obviously a frown of disgust.

The sensei straightens. You smile ingratiatingly, turning away.

This is war, his eyes seem to promise, and really, you can’t help but agree.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Your revenge is served not even three days later, on a Saturday evening, and you think it is the sweetest thing you have ever tasted.

You have your father to thank for it, actually. The boy, whose name you learn is Bakugou Katsuki, is something of a mini celebrity at your school.

This means that the surface level things are easy to find⏤ he has anger issues, an explosive Quirk, and is smart, consistently at the top of the class. ( You frown a little when they tell you. These are all things you already know, and the only new information⏤ he likes spicy food⏤ isn’t helpful in the slightest. ) But this also means that, knowing his temper, there are very few willing to actively take your side, and much more openly against you. You are the new girl, the outlier, and though he can’t quite make you an outcast⏤ you and your horde of girl-followers ( bought with your mother’s fashion, your father’s wallet, and your pure, sunny disposition )⏤ he has enough friends, or rather sycophants, that will ignore you in the hallways, or mutter names at you.

The boy in question doesn’t, though.

He storms up to your desk the second day. You are chatting with your friends, as he slams his hands on the desk and snarls: “Fight me.”

Catching your pencil just before it falls, you frown up with him. “What ever happened to: hi, hello, how are you?”

“Hi, hello, how are you.” He sneers. “Scared?”

“No, and my answer is no.”

His scowl deepens. “So you are scared.”

“I’m a healer.” You lift your chin in outrage, affronted. “I’m not violent.”

“Nah. You’re just an extra.”

Internally, you seethe. First ugly, and now an extra. You have never been called such things in your life. You open your mouth, a retort on the tip of your tongue.

The sensei walks in.

It dies in your throat, Bakugou’s face splits into a shit-eating grin. He turns away, head held high; arrogant and condescending, having won this encounter by a mile.

Wrath boils in your ears, but you tamp it down, expressionless. Your pencils are carefully aligned, your notebook opened with just a little more force than necessary. Internally, you promise yourself, he’ll get what’s coming to him. You will make sure of it.

You get your chance soon enough on a Saturday evening, dolled up again in a dress your mother painstakingly picked out for you, your hair pressed into careful curls. Your father had told you: your family had been invited to dinner by a friend he’d met at work, and that they have a son in the same grade as you, in the same school.

You had shrugged. So long as there’s a chance their son would be willing to join your Anti-Bakugou Society ( consisting only of you at the moment ), you don’t particularly mind.

“Play nice,” Your mother reminds you now, as you stand before the door; your father knocking on it. There is a bouquet of sunflowers clutched in your hands, matching the color of your dress, and you only scrunch your nose up a little at her.

“I’m always nice.”

Your mother doesn’t get a chance to respond, because then there’s a⏤ Katsuki, get the door!⏤ along with an answering⏤ “SHUT UP, OLD HAG! I’M GETTING IT!”⏤ and then, you blink.

The name sounds rather familiar. The voice, too.

The door opens. You stare, wide-eyed, as a head of blond hair enters your vision, familiar and crimson-eyed.

He’s just as stunned as you are, as you watch, with no small amount of delight, as he takes one look at you, and then the sunflowers you hold in your hands, and sneezes.

Christmas has come early, you think. “Katsuki! This is your house?” You step a little closer, a sickly sweet grin on your face.

He dodges the sweep of your bouquet. A pity, you think, but you are successful: he only sneezes all the harder.

You raise an eyebrow. “Are you… by any chance allergic to sunflowers?”

Your mother gasps, tearing the bouquet from your hands. She had been the one to pick them out.

He doesn’t need to respond for you to know the answer: as soon as they’re taken away from his immediate vicinity, his sneezes lessen.

Your mother had been the one to pick them out, and you had disliked the way they looked. But you decide, there and in the moment, that they are your favorite flower.

He straightens. His nose is still red, and there is murder in his eyes. “Why the hell are you here?”

His mother sweeps in, pinching him by the ear. “You will not address our guests that way.” She hisses, before looking up at the three of you, apologetic. “I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to teach him manners, I swear⏤”

“No worries at all, Bakugou-san.” Your mother says, correcting herself at the other woman’s oh, just call me Mitsuki! She pinches your ear in turn. “This one is much the same. A righteous demon, she is.” You narrow your eyes a little at her.

The blonde laughs, and the way she ruffles her son’s hair is terribly fond. “That’s just part of their charm, I suppose.”

He hisses up at her. She hisses right back.

You love her, you think.

“Oh, where are my manners!” She straightens, blinking. “Please come in. Masaru’s in the kitchen, just setting up⏤”

Your parents walk in first, complimenting the decor. Mitsuki beams at them, and down at you. “Masaru tells me the two of you go to the same school,” She says. “Have the two of you met before?”

You say: “Yes!” at the same time he gives a flat, but resounding, “No.”

He glares daggers into the side of your head. You grin. “We’re in the same class, and he’s my best friend!” You exclaim, the lie rolling easily off your tongue.

“No the fuck I’m not.”

“Language, Katsuki!” Mitsuki reaches for his ear again, her face the picture of delight. “I’m so happy you’re finally making friends!”

“WE’RE NOT FRIENDS!”

She gasps, affronted, looking like she wants to tear him a new one. You smile. Your parents look on, utterly lost. “It’s okay, Mitsuki-san. That’s just how Katsuki-kun shows his love. I don’t mind.”

“Oh, you angel.” And from the look on her face, one might have thought she truly believed it. She whips around to glare at her son. He glares back. “I don’t know how she puts up with you, but you’d better treat her well.” You grin at him from behind, terribly smug, and terribly victorious.

She turns around, and your smile is pretty again, pleasant and soft.

Mitsuki coos at you. You think the dichotomy between the way she talks to the both of you is like heaven and earth. “Come over to our house more often. I’d love to have you over anytime!”

“HAH? WHAT⏤”

“We wouldn’t want to trouble you, Mitsuki-san.” Your mother says, assertively. She is shooting you the look, the one that means she knows what you’re up to.

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all!” She dismisses the statement with a wave of her hand. “Katsuki has few enough friends as it is.”

Your father laughs, ever the mediator. “We’ll have to invite you over next time as well. We live just down the street.” He brightens. “Actually, seeing as they’re classmates, they could maybe walk together in the mornings?”

Your mother’s grip tightens around his arm.

There is a wicked grin on your face. “I’d love that!”

The boy in question doesn’t even get the chance to protest, because Mitsuki’s already chirping. “It’s settled, then!”

You think: it doesn’t even matter if he emerges victorious in all the encounters you have after this, because when the adults turn, you get to stick your tongue out at him.

The look on his face is so quietly violent, so blatantly murderous, as you wave your still sunflower-smeared hands in his face, that you think you will remember the sweetness of this victory for the rest of your life.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Your relationship does not change in the slightest after that.

Mitsuki invites you over to her house once a week, and your parents do the same. The adults do their own thing, and you do yours: trying your best to annoy the daylights out of your newfound nemesis, and he only does the same to you. You’ll make fun of his All Might merchandise, the ones displayed proudly in his room, and he’ll make fun of your Recovery Girl ones, the ones you have so painstakingly collected⏤ she’s not nearly as popular of a Hero. He’ll sneer: “So that’s why you used to kiss everyone you healed?”

You’ll sneer right back, cringing internally at the reminder of that phase, though you are still Recovery Girl’s number one fan. “My Quirk’s literally activated through touch. You’d be lucky if I poked you with a ten-foot pole, let alone heal you with a kiss.”

He’ll make a face. “Eugh. You wish, idiot. I’d never want to kiss an extra like you.”

The two of you have learned to act relatively civil with adults in the house. You smile up at him, sickly sweet. “Yeah. This extra is an idiot, and she definitely didn’t score higher than you on the last history test.”

By one point, but still.

He snorts, though you can tell the reminder irks him. “That’s only ‘cause you sucked up to sensei like, three classes in a row.”

You sniff in derision. “I did not.” Sure, it’s true: you’d definitely been a little more active in class, and answered more questions than usual, but you’d studied for it! You’d studied a lot!

He sneers back. “Did too.”

You have learned to imitate the murderous glare he likes to level you with, and the first time you mimic it, you grin a little as his eyes widen, stunned.

The two of you are civil for the most part, though, at each other’s houses. His mother would tear him a new one if she heard him acting anything but⏤ ( she has )⏤ and you think you like his parents too much to ruin your relationship over something as trivial as this.

School is a different story, however, as are your walks in the mornings. “Shut the fuck up,” He’ll snarl at you.

“But Katsuki-kun!” You’ll coo right back, using the tone you know he hates. “I haven’t even started talking yet!”

He’ll scowl at you. You’ll simper right back. He’ll speed up, and you do not slow, nor do you attempt to match his pace, because you know: if you slow, he will too. Always keeping that same distance, and if you speed up⏤ well, you’d tried that once. And you’d kept pace with him for all of two seconds, before he’d sped up in turn, until the both of you were practically sprinting to school.

You lose, of course. You have never run a day in your life.

( You start training right after. )

You make fun of the things he likes, and he of yours. You flop on his bed, making sure to crinkle his carefully-pressed sheets, forcing him to his desk during one of your so-called ‘hangouts’ and ‘study sessions’⏤ Mitsuki’s words, not either of yours, but there are textbooks in front of the both of you, so that is good enough. You study harder than you ever have before, and rub every one of your small victories in his face, and he studies like a demon in return⏤ ( even though he’s never needed to study in his life )⏤ until the both of you are neck and neck, with perfect grades in every subject. You buy everything sunflower-colored, sunflower-shaped, and tack sunflower stickers onto every surface you can see, pinning some cute ones to your backpack.

( Your mother picked out the flowers, but you are the one that held them, and you were also the one to decide, there and then, that these were your favorite flowers in the world. )

You make fun of the things he likes, and he of yours. You see his face more often than anything else, and he calls you an idiot when you tell him about the fictional boys you think are cute. Well, you don’t care. You tell him about them anyways, because you are bored and Kuroo-kun looked particularly stunning in the episode the other day⏤ only because you are bored and there is nothing else to do, or so you tell yourself. You find: you do not regret lying the first day and calling him your best friend, because even if you are not even friends⏤ you don’t think you are, at least, because he has never confirmed it, even if he does seem somewhat tolerant of you; punches your pseudo-stalker in the face for you, and carries you piggyback on the way home, crying all the while.

“You’re ruining my shirt,” He grouses. “Stop crying. I’m literally more injured than you are.”

You sniff. “I’m not kissing you better.”

He snarls. “Come anywhere near me with your mouth and I’ll blow your face off.”

“You want it so bad it makes you look stupid.” You tell him, and he tenses beneath you, but you only press your cheek to his neck, and think, heal.

The pain of the bruises lances through you, and you feel the way he relaxes.

You droop. “Onwards, steed.”

“I will literally drop you.”

“I just healed you. I’m tired.”

“No one fucking asked you to.”

He doesn’t make good on his promise, though, and eventually, you sigh a little into his neck.

“What.”

“Nothing.”

“What, dumbass.”

You hum, a little absentminded. “You’re going to UA, right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Oh, I was thinking of applying for the healer understudy openings.” You shrug. “Dunno if I can get in, though.”

“You will.” His certainty surprises you.

You smile. “Didn’t know you believed in me so much, Katsuki-kun.” Your head flops back onto his shoulder. “Will you still walk with me in the mornings, then?”

“After school, too. Even if you don’t get in.”

You shift to blink up at him in surprise.

He clicks his tongue. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look this uncomfortable.

“Who the fuck else’s gonna punch shitty stalkers for you?”

You don’t think you’ve ever felt like this before, like the sun cresting upon the horizon, lighting up like a dawn inside your chest. You laugh at the feel of it. “Are you sure you woke up on the right side of the bed today? Besides, you don’t even know where I’d be going.” You reach up to pinch him on the cheek.

He jerks away, the look on his face disgusted.

“Then I’ll teach you to fight.”

You make fun of the things he likes, and he of yours. You find: you do not regret lying the first day and calling him your best friend, because even if you are not even friends⏤ he is tolerant of you, he punches your pseudo-stalker for you, he walks with you before school, and he walks with you after. He lets you flop on his bed, lets you push him to the desk, wrinkles his nose at you when you tell him about a boy that was cute, and calls your friends dumb when you tell him about something they said that was funny. You weasel his birthday out of Mitsuki, and get him that All Might merch you know he’ll like. There’s some Recovery Girl merch left on your windowsill the day of yours. He laughs when you try a bite of his food for the first time and cough instantly after, your face aflame. What the hell is this? You hiss, and he grins, telling you it’s real food, and that you’re just weak. He never calls you his friend, but he believes in you and your dream, and promises to walk you to and from school anyways, even if you do not attend the same one.

( That’s just how Katsuki-kun shows his love, you tell Mitsuki-san, once upon a time, and though you are not sure if it is love, you think: you do not mind it. )

This is how your relationship is, and how it remains, until the end of the second last year of middle school, right before the both of you enter UA.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

You are asleep at your desk when you are jumpscared awake.

“UA? That national school? Isn’t their acceptance rate really low?” Someone in your class is asking.

“That’s exactly why you guys are just extras!” You roll your eyes as the ash-blond jumps straight atop his desk. “I aced the mock test! I’m the only one at this school who could possibly get into UA. I’ll definitely surpass All Might and become the top hero!”

This is not the first time you’ve heard this tirade. Sueko nudges you, quietly. “Hey. Didn’t you say you were applying for one of their healer slots?”

“Oh, yeah.” The sensei glances down at his list. “Midoriya wanted to go to UA as well, right? And someone else…” You tense.

The class bursts into uproarious laughter, and it seems you are temporarily saved.

“Huh? Midoriya? No way! You can’t get into the Hero course by just studying!”

The green-haired boy stammers. “Th-they got rid of the rule! There’s just no precedent…”

You roll your eyes at the sound of familiar explosions. “Huh? Deku! You’re below the rejects! You’re quirkless! How can you even stand in the same ring as me?”

“No, wait! Kacchan! It’s not like I’m trying to compete with you or anything! Believe me!” He falters “It’s just that it’s been my goal ever since I was little! I won’t know unless I try…”

“What do you mean, unless you try? You’re Quirkless!”

You slam your textbook down with a little more force than usual, and the whole class turns to you in surprise. “He has a dream that he dares to try for,” you say, coolly and careful. “Isn’t that enough?”

“And what the hell would you know about that?”

Disbelief rushes through you, and you turn to look him squarely in the eye. The class tenses, and his own eyes widen. It has been a while since you’ve challenged him like this directly, whether in school or otherwise.

Sueko pipes up, unhelpfully, from beside you, as if he wouldn’t know. “She’s also applying for UA.”

You don’t get the chance to glare at her, because your sensei continues the thought. “Oh, yes, that’s right! You were the last student applying to UA! The healer routes are notoriously difficult⏤ how’s that coming along?”

“Ah, I applied to some hospitals for volunteering, but I don’t know if they accept middle-schoolers,” You laugh.

Your sensei nods, in support, but also a little condescendingly. “Well, it’s also a very difficult path, so don’t beat yourself up about it too much, yeah?”

The smile on your face feels a little bit painful, a little bit stretched.

You are distracted for the rest of that day. So out of it, in fact, that when the sensei calls upon you, his favorite student, you take all of five seconds to respond⏤ blinking, first, then glancing up, with a: “Sorry, what was the question?” You are so out of it that you bump your hip into your own desk as you move past for lunch, wincing at the twinge of it, and you are so out of it that you forget your pencil case when you leave after class, and have to go back to get it.

“Believe that you’ll be born with a Quirk in your next life, and take a last chance dive off the roof!”

You know that voice. You pause. But then, the blast of familiar explosions.

Before your hands, the door slams open.

You don’t know what you were expecting. Bakugou and Midoriya both, obviously, and you suppose you should have known his two lackeys would have been there, too. They turn from their face-off, and your glare is sharp and terrible. “So what if he’s Quirkless?” You snap, storming over to grab the green-haired boy by the wrist. “At least he has a dream. At least he dares to try. That’s more than I can say for the two of you.”

“Stay out of this,” The blond snarls, a warning.

You are not entirely a good person. You lie as you please, wielding the power of your mother’s fashion, your father’s wallet, and do things entirely for your own amusement, uncaring of the aftermath. You know Midoriya, or rather, you know of him, and how he is a frequent target of Bakugou’s scathing remarks. At first, you had assumed he’d just been one of the people that disliked you, but it had become increasingly evident that he was just one of the people that didn’t dare to brave the blond’s wrath. And you are not entirely a good person, because you just didn’t care. Not to talk to him, not to stand up for him, not if he hadn’t even tried to for you.

You are not entirely a good person yourself, but even so, you know that there are lines that should not be crossed.

You lift your chin, and say, quietly. “Apologize.”

“Hah?” He tilts his head. “And why the hell should I? Why the hell are you defending him?”

You feel incredulous. “What does that have anything to do with it?” You don’t see the way his eyes flicker down to where you are holding the green-haired boy, by his wrist. “There are things that you should never, ever, say to a person.” His eyes narrow, but there’s an irrational anger within you, a disbelief. “You’re literally trying to become a Hero. How can you, an applicant of UA, who hopes to become one of the best heroes in the world, tell someone to kill themselves, and not think there’s anything wrong with it?”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Little explosions are escaping his hands, in the uncontrolled way they do when he’s furious and unaware of them.

You think Midoriya makes a pained sound, what with the way your hands are clenching, angry and white. Heal. A sting pulses through you, and you drop his wrist, but your eyes are flashing. “You’re being an ass. Apologize.”

“You don’t tell me what to do.”

You lift your chin. “If you value our friendship in the slightest, then yes, I do.” The vehemence of your words stuns you a bit, and the blond recoils, as if he has been physically struck.

You think you have won, for all of a moment, and then he scoffs.

“Yeah, right. What friendship? The one you lied to my mom about and said that we had? That friendship? The one that doesn’t exist? Won’t exist?”

His sneer is not harsh, but the breath that leaves you is shaky.

You do not hear his next words.

( You make fun of the things he likes, and he of yours. You flop on his bed, making sure to crinkle his carefully-pressed sheets, forcing him to his desk during one of your so-called ‘hangouts’ and ‘study sessions’⏤ Mitsuki’s words, not either of yours, but there are textbooks in front of the both of you, so that is good enough. You study harder than you ever have before, and rub every one of your small victories in his face, and he studies like a demon in return⏤ ( even though he’s never needed to study in his life )⏤ until the both of you are neck and neck, with perfect grades in every subject. You buy everything sunflower-colored, sunflower-shaped, and tack sunflower stickers onto every surface you can see, pinning some cute ones to your backpack. You make fun of the things he likes, and he of yours. You see his face more often than anything else, and he calls you an idiot when you tell him about the fictional boys you think are cute. Well, you don’t care. You tell him about them anyways, because you are bored and Kuroo-kun looked particularly nice in the episode the other day⏤ only because you are bored and there is nothing else to do, or so you tell yourself. You find: you do not regret lying the first day and calling him your best friend, because even if you are not even friends⏤ you don’t think you are, at least, because he has never confirmed it, even if he does seem somewhat tolerant of you; punches your pseudo-stalker in the face for you, and carries you piggyback on the way home, crying all the while. You make fun of the things he likes, and he of yours. You find: you do not regret lying the first day and calling him your best friend, because even if you are not even friends⏤ he is tolerant of you, he punches your pseudo-stalker for you, he walks with you before school, and he walks with you after. He lets you flop on his bed, lets you push him to the desk, wrinkles his nose at you when you tell him about a boy that was cute, and calls your friends dumb when you tell him about something they said that was funny. You weasel his birthday out of Mitsuki, and get him that All Might merch you know he’ll like, and there’s some Recovery Girl merch left on your windowsill the day of yours. He laughs when you try a bite of his food for the first time and cough instantly after, your face aflame. What the hell is this? You hiss, and he grins, telling you it’s real food, and that you’re just weak. He never calls you his friend, but he believes in you and your dream, and promises to walk you to and from school anyways, even if you do not attend the same one. )

This is how Katsuki-kun shows his love, you say to Mitsuki-san once upon a time, but now, you know, because you have learned to read between the lines of his words; to understand him: that this is just how he treats liars who worm their way into his world, and how he tolerates them.

Your lip wobbles. There is a lump in your throat. But you will not cry for him, nor will you plead. Play nice, your mother chastises you once upon a time, because you are a willful child, vindictive in both your action and your speech, and petty enough to hold onto your grudges. She chastises you once upon a time, because you do not particularly care to cater to the feelings of those around you unless you feel like it; do not care to stand up for a boy who has done nothing to you, just because he has done nothing for you.

You are petty, yes. Vindictive, too. You may not be that much of a good person, and you are not without your own feelings, hypocritical as that may be. But you are trying, and you are genuine, or at least as much as you can be, as much as you ever have, and he⏤ he has just thrown all of that in your face.

“Fine, then.” You smile, and you are unfeeling as you lie. “I’ve never thought of you as a friend, either. Don’t talk to me again.”

The door slams behind you.

You do not hear his next words, so you do not hear him mean: not while you choose him, and not me.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Katsuki is six-turning seven the first time he meets you.

It is the first day of school. You are seated at your desk, a crowd of adoring sycophants around you. “Happy birthday! You look really pretty today,” His friend says from beside him, and he looks you up and down. You are wearing a sky-blue dress, with your hair pressed into careful curls.

His cheeks warm. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, but he only grunts, looking away to the side. “Dunno. She looks pretty ugly to me.”

“You can’t just say that to her,” Your friend hisses. He doesn’t know her face.

He scowls at her. “And who the heck are you, extra?”

She wilts under the force of his glare, and he feels a little better, as if satisfied.

“It’s okay!” You smile. He blinks. Maybe he should call you ugly more often.

And then you call him stupid. And blind.

And the rest is history.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The results of your hospital volunteer application are sent back the next week, and the first thing you think of, somewhat bitterly, is that at least now, you have a proper excuse for skipping out on your weekly dinners.

You have already skipped out on the first, pretending you feel sick.

Your phone is still silent. You have not talked to him since that day, not even to check up on him when you see the news, though your fingers itch to. You think of sunflowers: how you didn’t even like them, until him. You think of how your bag now feels empty without its signature pins, how you have thrown every scrap of yellow clothing into a pile in your closet, your sunflower-themed charms and notebooks tucked away.

Proof of life comes from your mother, and you do not turn on your phone.

You break your silence two days later, pushing your vegetables somewhat morosely around your plate. “My volunteer application was accepted. They’re letting me intern at the hospital.”

Your father beams. “That’s great news! You should’ve told us earlier! Honey, we have to eat out to celebrate! Oh, I need to tell Masaru⏤”

“I won’t be going to weekly dinners for the rest of the summer,” You cut in. Your mother’s chopsticks pause midair.

Your father blinks at you. “Surely the hospital isn’t making its interns work that much.”

“Well, I’m applying to UA.” You shrug. That much is true, but it’s also just so you can fill in your hours, work yourself down to the bone. “I’d like as much experience as possible.”

Your mother is watching you carefully.

Your father clears his throat. “Well, don’t work yourself too hard.” He says, jokingly, as he dishes another helping of food upon your plate. “You tell us if they’re giving you any trouble, alright?”

You force yourself to smile back. “‘Course, dad.”

( Your mother asks you, a week later, when you arrive home from your internship. “Are you still friends with him?” She has asked you a similar question once, years ago and late in the evening, at the end of the dinner party, your father drunken and half-leaning on her shoulder.

You give her the same answer you did then, and in the same way. Cheery, and without a hint of hesitation. “Nope!”

She is watching you carefully.

You excuse yourself, and she does not ask you about it again. )

It feels like the days never end, and yet summer passes by before you can blink. You banish all thoughts of blond hair and crimson eyes entirely from your mind, and truthfully, you do not have the mind to think of him much, anyways. You steal the pain of your patients and make it your own, smiling at the brightness of their faces as you heal one, then two, then several more. It tires you terribly so, and between your time at the hospital and pre-studying for the UA exams, you’re so fatigued each night that you fall asleep before your head even hits the pillow. You don’t even have the time to meet up with your friends. And before you know it, the last year of middle school is upon you, as are the start of your applications.

It is a whirlwind of things to do, so much that you feel you do not have the time to breathe, or even think. Katsuki’s been placed in a different class from yours, which comes as a relief in more ways than one⏤ firstly, that you don’t have to see him, and secondly, because you can let your grades fall just a little, and still come out as top of your class. Between your intern shifts, your mindless studying, the applications, the tests and quizzes and preparing endlessly for interviews, the thoughts of anything else vanish entirely from your mind. You do not feel the emptiness of your afternoons, nor much of your mornings.

About two months in, Midoriya Izuku is the one to seek you out.

There is a spoonful of rice halfway to your mouth, a textbook in your other hand. You notice him when a shadow falls over it, blotting the light out. You glance up, drawling. “Yes?”

“Can I… talk to you for a moment?” He ventures, nervously, a tray gripped in his hands.

You eye him a little strangely.

You haven’t seen him since four months ago⏤ you haven’t really been paying much attention, and even the reminder sets your walls of iron slamming up. He’d been shorter then, you think, and significantly more hesitant. The boy from back then would never have even dared think about approaching you like this.

He flusters. “I-I just! Another time is also okay, or if you don’t want to, that’s also okay⏤”

There he is, you think, a touch amused. “Can it be said here?”

Beside you, Sueko’s jaw drops. You can feel the stares of your friends boring into the side of your face.

“Y-yes?”

“Then make it quick.” You flip the page of your textbook.

He hesitates. “Is it really okay…? For me to sit here?”

Your eyebrow arches, high. “Since when have you been unable to sit where you like?”

Mutely, he sets his tray down, and sits.

You only flip another page. “You can either eat or talk.” You say, conversationally. “Lunch won’t last all day.”

Obediently, he takes a spoonful of rice, and swallows. “I just… wanted to thank you.” He begins.

You know exactly what he is talking about, and your throat tightens. ( You think of your backpack, how empty it feels, but your refusal to tack on your sunflower pins anyway. ) You shrug. “No need to thank me. I didn’t do it for you.”

“Even so,” Midoriya perks up a bit. “N-no one’s ever stood up for me like that before, and especially not to Kacchan… I-I’m really grateful, either way!”

You snort a little. Never would you have thought Midoriya Izuku, of all people, would stand here one day, thanking you.

“I think you’re a really good person,” He says to you, a little bit hesitant. It jolts you a bit, the genuine honesty of his tone, but what you are not prepared for is what comes after. “And I know Kacchan does, too.”

Your spoon stops halfway to your mouth.

“He still cares about you,” Midoriya says, a touch softer. Your friends are not looking at you, but you can still feel the weight of their gazes, their ears.

You say as you set your spoon down. “If you want to be friends with me, then you will never speak of him again.”

Midoriya watches you carefully, notes the finality in your tone. His gaze rises to a point above your shoulder.

He flinches.

He does not speak of what he sees, or of this conversation, ever again.

You do not turn, and you do not ask.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The week of UA acceptances arrive, and you await your own with bated breath.

Your father laughs as you run out exactly at eight every morning to check, before he finally deigns to tell you that the postman usually delivers to your house around twelve. “I knew that!” You say, and he laughs at the obvious lie.

You stick your tongue out at him, but you still sneak out the next day at the same time, just in case.

But as it turns out, the postman is late. You know this, because Midoriya texts you late in the evening, after dinnertime, with his signature All Might emoji and a brief: check your mailbox!!!!!

You stop, your heart in your throat. You don’t think you are breathing.

He’s still typing, spamming your text messages with a thousand All Might emojis, each of them more despairing than the last. You do not know what this means. And then, you see his next message: I got in!!!!!

It turns out that you are not, in fact, breathing.

You feel like you are holding your breath the whole time you’re fumbling through your mailbox, dropping random letters haphazardly onto your doorstep. That one looks like it’s important, you think, distantly, and it gets dropped somewhere onto the growing pile at your right, scanning them all for a familiar logo, and⏤ you see it at the very bottom of the pile.

You thumb it open with shaking hands. Congratulations, it reads, and you scream.

( You think for one moment of sunflowers, how you can imagine exactly how he’d react, hear exactly what he’d say. )

Your father pokes his head around the corner. “I heard screaming. Everything alright?”

Your mother is smiling. “Mitsuki just called. Katsuki’s in.”

Your father is looking at you with wide eyes. You are grinning, there are tears in your eyes, and you are wordless in your delight.

Your mother laughs, soft. “I suppose two congratulations are in order.”

“Midoriya also made it, so make that three.” You correct, grinning.

Your father whoops. “THAT’S MY GIRL!” For the first time in almost a year, you feel light as a feather, like the world is spread wide before you, and you are a young god before it, your wings wide and at the ready.

For the first time in almost a year, you think, for one moment of sunflowers, how you can imagine exactly how he’d react, hear exactly what he’d say. You think of reaching for your phone⏤ ( and if you did, you’d see his icon that you’d purposefully wiped blank bubbling )⏤ but you don’t. You think of a boy with blond hair and crimson eyes that you have not looked at in almost a year, how you’ll brush past him in the halls, surrounded by your gaggle of friends, your uniform and makeup, your armor, and try not to note how he’s grown taller. For the first time in over a year, you think of him, and your heart does not feel like an empty cavity in your chest; you do not feel so hollow, nor do you ache.

Your heart only squeezes, a little tight, but.

You think you will be fine.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

You are delusional. You are not, in fact, fine.

You are standing in front of the classroom door. It spells the code of your class: 1A, in bold lettering, proportions inhumanly large. You are three minutes late, but it’s really not your fault⏤ you’d simply fangirled so hard over the fact that you’re finally getting to meet your idol in person last night that you’d barely gotten any sleep, and your mother had had to haul you practically out of bed and out the door, throughout the whole of your alarm.

You slide open the door. Instantly, you’re met with a sea of faces, and you steel yourself⏤ but then.

For the first time in over a year, you see him, and all of a sudden, you are painfully aware of the lack of yellow on your figure; your backpack entirely empty of its signature sunflower pins.

The smile is frozen on your face, and he looks just as shocked as you feel.

A voice drawls at your side. “You must be the healer,” You are glad for the distraction; the source a scraggly-haired man halfway through removing himself from a sleeping bag. Your sensei, you deduce. “You’re late.”

“Sorry, sensei!” You bow. “I overslept because I was fangirling too hard over meeting Recovery Girl today! I promise it won’t happen again!”

A wave of soft laughter ripples through the class, and over the din, you hear a⏤ she’s kinda cute!⏤ at the same time as a⏤ oh, I love her already.

“If I get hurt, will I get to see you?” A voice calls, and you turn to see a boy⏤ blond, and your heart stutters for a moment, but his shade isn’t ash, it’s golden. He’s grinning cheekily up at you.

“No flirting in my class.” Your sensei warns. “But yes, seeing as she’s 1A’s healer understudy.” He turns to you. “Recovery Girl’s waiting for you in her office. You know where it is?”

You nod cheerily. “Sir, yes, sir!”

“Good.” You turn at the obvious dismissal, shooting a wave at your green-haired friend as you do.

You leave the classroom with your shoulders set, your chin tilted high, your outfit your armor, and your makeup your helm.

You pretend like you do not feel the crimson glare that seems like it’s trying to pierce through the back of your neck.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Recovery Girl likes you, and you feel as if you are floating for the whole of a day. Not even meeting Bakugou’s gaze the next morning can knock you from it, nor can the grape-haired boy’s leering from across the room. You can’t really dwell on them for long, either, not with the crowd of people aggregating by your desk. You blink up a little, surprised.

It’s not like you’ve made an effort to dress up especially pretty today, and you don’t think you’ve come off as incessantly nice. You are not the you from first grade anymore⏤ you don’t just think yourself pretty, you know you are⏤ but are confident enough in your own skin that you have stopped putting on airs; have allowed yourself to be as cold and sarcastic and dry as you want. Most of your girl-followers⏤ ( the ones you buy with your mother’s fashion, your father’s wallet, and your pure, sunny disposition )⏤ have only seen glimpses of you like this, and you can count on one hand the people outside of your parents who know you as you are.

Sueko, Midoriya, and of course, him.

You do not dwell on it for long. You are confident in your own skin, and though you would like some more friends, you do not wish to temper yourself to gain them.

You smile a little at the question the purple-haired boy asks, disliking the way his eyes are lingering at your chest. “You’re all welcome to drop by the clinic anytime you like. It’s what we’re here for, after all. Though, if you want a kiss to make you feel better,”

You pause a little bit for dramatic effect watching the eyes of several boys brighten just a bit.

“You’ll have to go to Recovery Girl.”

Your straight face is very well-practiced, but you do not hide the small quirk of your mouth as you watch their souls die.

An arm slings around your shoulder, its pink-skinned, pink-haired owner grinning at you. “I think we’re going to be best friends, you and I.”

You remember thinking the same thing about a different girl, when you are six-turning seven, and you hear the same genuinity behind it.

( You are clad in your outfit like armor, your makeup a helm. Today, you are exactly as cold and sarcastic and dry as you like, because you are confident in your own skin, and you do not temper yourself in the slightest. )

You smile up at her. “I think I’d like that!”

Her grin widens, but then, an older Hero walks in⏤ Cementoss, you think. You have made an effort to memorize the roster. “To your seats, everyone.” He calls.

You take out your notebook, neatly arranging your pens. New year, new you. You don’t have as many shifts at the hospital anymore⏤ you don’t need the experience exactly, as you’re sure UA will look good enough on your resume, but it can’t hurt. Besides, you enjoy working there anyways; the older nurses who help you out with a kind smile, the doctors who are almost always willing to answer a question. But the lessened shifts allow you to breathe, just a little, to settle back into a healthier routine; one no longer so bogged down by your thoughts.

Math transitions quickly into English. You think you prefer Cementoss’s teaching style just a little, even if Present Mic is more energetic⏤ a little bit too loud for your tastes, you think. The material is basic, seeing as it’s the unofficial first day of class, and though you’ve already pre-studied most of the content, you end up writing most of it down, anyways.

Lunchtime arrives. You balance your tray on your hands, walking side-by-side with Mina. Midoriya waves at you from his table, surrounded by an assortment of friends, and you nod back. “Let’s sit there!” The pink-haired girl points excitedly at a particular table.

You see several boys from your class, some more familiar than the rest. A head of ash blonde, crimson eyes that glance up to meet your own.

“Midoriya wanted me to sit with him today,” You say, a touch apologetic. “You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like?”

Her eyes widen a bit, and you note the glance, the observance. Her own smile is your mirror, just as apologetic, and just as assertive. “Maybe another time,” She says.

She knows what she wants, and she’s not afraid to say it. You like that about her.

You incline your head, eyelid pulling down in a wink. “Do let me know which one you like,”

She only laughs at you, her answering grin somewhat sly.

All Might steps into the room after lunch, and though you’ve never been one of his particularly die-hard fans⏤ you think of your sunflowers, how you make fun of the things he likes, and he of yours⏤ you can admit that in person, he stands a legend in real life. You are just a little starstruck, you think, as he smiles at you, and says⏤ “Do try to keep your injuries to a minimum, though not to worry! Our healer team will be here to assist you!”

You find yourself grinning a little as you respond, “Nothing fatal, though. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything about anyone bringing a dead person back to life.”

He booms a laugh. “Naturally! You are all Heroes! You should refrain from using lethal power whenever possible!”

He speaks too soon. The first teams are called up, and the matchup is almost comical.

Bakugou will be fine. You know this. You are not worried for him in the slightest⏤ not that you would, you tell yourself, a touch sardonically.

No. What you worry for is the state of your Quirkless friend, and you are right to worry. Bakugou seems almost angrier than you’ve ever seen him, and that’s saying a lot, considering how good you are⏤ how good you used to be, you correct yourself⏤ at getting on his nerves, though Midoriya seems to be holding up very well.

Your friend has grown, you think. He is not at all the same person he was over a year ago in that classroom.

But you are right to worry, because All Might is shouting into his microphone. “Young Bakugou, stop! Are you trying to kill him?”

No, you think, immediately, instinctively. You know Bakugou is many things, but he is not that. Never that.

You feel the force of that explosion from here. “This is supposed to be a class!” One of your classmates, red-haired and red-eyed, is saying. “You have to stop him!”

“He knows what he’s doing.” You find yourself saying. Somewhat cold, somewhat callous. There are eyes on you, surprised.

You shrug.

You don’t really know why you say it, either.

“Young Bakugou, the next time you use that, I’ll stop the fight, and your team will lose. To attack on such a large scale inside is inviting the destruction of the very stronghold you are supposed to be protecting. That is a foolish plan for both heroes and villains, and you will lose a lot of points!”

You don’t need to look at him to feel his teeth gnash in anger, but you still watch the screen, anyways.

Their clash is violent. You remember saying, once, that you dislike violence because you are a healer. But that is not entirely true, you think: you see the passion in their every movement, even as your green-haired friend receives the brunt of the beating, the callous elegance of it. The careful calculations, the years of training that you have walked alongside most of to witness.

“This looks bad!” One of the classmates from before seems to shout. “Sensei!”

You don’t dislike violence just because you are a healer. What you have always disliked is the senseless brutality of it, the cruelty of its aftermath. Not because you have to deal with it, but because sometimes, you can’t.

You look to All Might. He seems to be struggling with something.

“So long as it is not fatal,” Your voice is soft, but no less firm. “I can heal it.”

His mouth tightens, but you see his decision made in that moment.

You turn your attention back to the screen just in time to see Midoriya’s Quirk. Your eyes widen. It’s so sudden, so powerful, that you almost miss it; the blast entirely different from Bakugou’s own. So he was not Quirkless after all, you think, but all thought of that vanishes when you see the aftermath.

All Might is turning for you, but you are already running.

You see the two you are unfamiliar with first. “How is she?” You ask the blue-haired boy who stands upright.

“I’m fine!” She gasps out. “Just nauseous! But Deku⏤”

You hear the nickname, and you think you look a little strangely at her for it. You don’t dwell on it very long, though, because you’re already slipping past.

Then, you see him, and though your heart stutters a little in your chest⏤ ( your bag, empty of its sunflowers )⏤ you still look him in the eye. You are professional. “Are you hurt?” You ask, because he is standing there, still gaping, a little open-mouthed.

He turns that look upon you, and his eyes widen.

The eye contact feels slightly unsettling. You look away first. “Well. If you are, you can let me know.”

You kneel at the green-haired boy’s side.

A hand stops you, just as you reach out. They’re a little bit bigger than what you’re used to, a little bit more callused. “Wait,” He says, voice raspy, and you tense a little: both at the familiar and unfamiliar touch, and because it’s been so long since you’ve heard his voice. “You don’t have to⏤” He scowls, cursing. “Recovery Girl.”

You blink up at him, a little confused.

But then you see his eyes dart towards your arm, and then the green-haired boy’s, lying prone on the ground.

“I am a healer. It’s what I do.”

“That’s not what I⏤” He curses again under his breath. “The damn nerd will be fine. Does he even know about your Quirk?”

“Why would that even matter?” You are confused, and you shove his arm away. Your friend is still hurt, and he is keeping you from your job. Why do you even care? You want to say.

You bite your tongue, and think: heal.

Midoriya blinks awake halfway through. Your arm is covered in purple contusions, and he gasps, jerking away. “You⏤ your arm!”

They fade within seconds. You only reach again for it, feeling the crimson gaze burning into the side of your face, as you’re sure the rest of the class is too, from their camera screens hundreds of meters away. You stare straight ahead, and think, heal, even as your arm ripples in agony again, painted and purple.

You steal your patient’s pain, and you feel all of it, but you don’t show a thing. Because you are a healer, and that’s what you do.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

You are a healer, and that’s what you do, but the next day, Aizawa-sensei still admonishes you for it.

“Your records are very impressive,” He tells you first, and you straighten. You figure: he is likely a man notorious for his lack of praise, so you might as well lap it up while you can. “However, just because you have a very high pain tolerance, does not mean you do not feel pain. Am I correct?”

“Yes, sensei.” You dip your head.

“The lot of you hear that, right?” He addresses the rest of the class. “She’s a healer, and she can heal almost anything, save those who are already dead. That’s very impressive, and it’s very rare. Don’t let her become your crutch. She will not always be there, and though she might say she doesn’t mind your burden, others will. Whether it’s yourself, your fellow Pro Heroes, or the civilians you are trying to save.”

There is murmured assent from the class.

He turns back to you. “Heroism is also about knowing when to step back and let others handle the situation. It is okay to share your burdens,” He tells you.

You blink a little, surprised at the comments that are not really criticism at all. “I am a healer,” You state. “It’s what I do.”

He sighs. “You’re just as stubborn as your mentor,” He says.

You smile at this, chirping. “Thank you!”

“That was not a compliment.”

You sink into your chair a little sheepishly, but it’s like a sun has been lit in your chest, because you take it as one anyways, and you are grinning.

Lunchtime is a little strange today, for more reasons than one. Mina invites you again, but she doesn’t protest your decision, a knowing glint in her eye. But she doesn’t mention a thing, and you are grateful for it.

Midoriya is sitting with the same people as yesterday, and he beams, delighted, as you slide into the seat beside him. Iida and Uraraka nod at you from across the table, and you nod back.

Surprisingly, it’s the red-and-white haired boy across from you⏤ Todoroki, who breaks the silence. “My father says he would like to meet you.”

You blink. That’s certainly not what you were expecting. “Endeavour, right?”

He nods, his face deadpan. “Please decline.”

You choke a little bit on the bite of food that has just entered your mouth. Midoriya slides you a napkin.

You cough around it. “Wow, Todoroki-san. You really dislike me that much?”

He shoots you a strange look. “Not at all. Why do you ask?”

You’re a little confused. “Oh, that was a joke.”

“Apologies. I have never been very good with jokes.”

“Nothing to apologize for, and I was planning on declining, anyways. I’m going to intern under Recovery Girl for the rest of my life!”

“I will communicate that to him, then.”

Midoriya coughs lightly from your other side. You elbow him.

Uraraka giggles, but whatever she is going to say is cut off by the sound of the alarm. There has been a level three security breach, you hear.

“Trespassing,” You hear someone clarify.

You stare at the horde of gray-uniformed students crowding the hallway. You have never been a huge fan of crowds, especially ones as tightly-packed as this. Besides, you think, a touch dryly, that if there were an intruder, walking headfirst into a mosh pit like this would probably be the best way to get yourself caught up in a mass murder.

But you don’t get to voice any of these concerns, because then Uraraka is tugging at your wrist. “If we don’t get ourselves in there now, we’re never going to get our way out! Come on!”

You fall, weightless, and are carried away upon the sea.

It’s horrible. Internally, you curse the girl, and almost don’t even feel bad about it because yes, she’s like the sweetest person you’ve ever known, but she’s also reason you’re in the midst of a thousand wayward bodies right now, wrinkling your nose at the reek, and practically fighting for your life to keep your head above the throng. You are a healer, you think, a little despairingly, as you elbow someone so harshly that your own limb twinges. You are fighting a desperate battle, but nonetheless a losing one⏤ at least you are, until hands lift you by the waist and carry you forth; your savior cutting his way through the crowd with ease.

Your back hits the wall, and gratitude is on the tip of your tongue as you look up, but then you see him: ash-blond, and glaring at you with crimson eyes. “The hell were you thinking?” He hisses. “You don’t even like crowds.”

You hate the familiarity in the way he says it, as if he still knows you, and you hate the way he cages you in against the wall, his body larger than you have known, but how it still feels the same, pressed up against yours.

( You think of your sunflowers, how your bag feels strangely empty without them. )

It is the nearest he has been to you in well over a year. You hate the way he smells, like burnt caramel, and you hate the way your cheeks warm.

You want to say: neither do you, and you want to ask him why he even bothered to try and save you. You know he doesn't like you, not even in the slightest, not this liar who has wormed their way into his world; this liar that he tolerates. You think of a thousand witty remarks, ones that used to make his eyes light, the curl of his scowl somewhat harsh, but no less familiar, of giving voice to your outrage, to your feelings, and simply storming past.

You choose none of the above.

You still your features, the picture of calm, set the steel of your shoulders, and stare straight at a point above his shoulder. “Why do you even care?”

You do not look at him, so you don’t see the way he recoils, ever-slightly. The expression he levels you, half-bewildered, half-disbelieving, the rest a complicated mix of emotions even he could not decipher himself.

You don't see the way he opens his mouth, because then Iida is there and shouting.

You see your chance, and you don’t wait for his answer. You weren’t expecting one, anyways.

He doesn’t even have the time to reach for you, before you slip past, and are gone.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

You stand before the mouth of USJ, your heart in your throat.

You barely notice the weight of the device upon your wrist; a monitor that connects you to all the ones distributed amongst the class, because there are villains down there, you think, a little dumbfoundedly. Real villains, like the type you see in movies, and you feel almost ridiculous, out of place, as if someone will smack you upside the head and tell you: wake up! and that you are not in a story. And you are not, because you pinch yourself, and yes, this is real life.

You have never seen a villain yourself before, because you are a healer, and have only ever dealt with the aftermath of what they have done. You know the damage, the pain, the torture it can inflict upon a soul; the way sometimes, no one can ever fully heal them afterwards, not even you. So though you are a little wide-eyed, your thoughts blank, when the mist wraps around you, you don’t even think.

You lunge.

Crimson eyes widen, and he catches you, just one second before you fall into darkness as one.

You try not to think about the way his body feels against yours, how he is cradling you, the way his hand automatically wraps around the back of your head. You feel the impact in your bones, though he bears the brunt of it. Automatically, you reach up, and think, heal, but you don’t have the time to do much else, because then his eyes widen, and he’s shoving you away.

“STAY THERE!” Distantly, you think he is roaring at you, and another time, you might have protested that you could defend yourself. But the shock of it all is still settling in⏤ ( these are real villains, you think dazedly, and this is real life )⏤ and you are a healer, right now, you are nothing more than a civilian.

In the aftermath, you still stand, dazed. Bakugou and another red-haired guy from your class are panting, smoke curling from your familiar ash-blond’s figure, and you register, like the world is separated from you by a film: it’s over.

“Oi.” There are palms cupping your face, and you blink a little, startled, as crimson eyes boring into yours. “You hurt anywhere?”

No, you think, a little too stunned to speak; the harshness of his tone at odds with the gentle manner of his touch. But then you see a hint of blood trickling down the side of his cheek.

As if on instinct, you reach out for him. He jerks away.

Wow, you think, the lump rising to your throat instantly. You had not known he hated you this much, to the point that he is unwilling of even your touch.

“I am a healer,” You say, your throat somewhat tight. ( You think of sunflowers, your bag that is empty, your closet and its piled-up yellow. ) “You are hurt, and I am simply repaying a favor.”

You sense that he is watching you carefully, but your eyes do not rise to meet his gaze. You simply steal his pain, and you barely feel a thing⏤ even if his injuries were not so light, you think you are too numb to, anyways.

You move past, and he does not reach for you. The red-haired classmate⏤ Kirishima, you recognize, grins at you, saying that he is unharmed. He offers to escort you back to the front, but then, your wristband is beeping, a location upon it.

You straighten. You are still afraid, you recognize, but there is someone out there that needs help, and this is simply another obstacle you must overcome. You will not always be in your hospital, tending to those that manage to get themselves wheeled in⏤ and though there is fear in you, there is also an equal determination.

“There are people who need healing,” You say, and that is all you need to.

You are a healer, but that does not mean you are any less brave.

You are a healer, and this is what you do.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

You ask Aizawa, two days later, if he would be willing to teach you self defense.

( You remember a boy, back from what feels like eons ago. You, on his back, the sun in your chest as he offers to walk you both to and from school. You don’t even know where I’m going, you tease, and he only scoffs at you. Then I’ll teach you how to fight.

You think of your sunflowers, and your bag, empty of them.

Your throat tightens, and you make your decision. )

He looks a little surprised, and asks you if you are sure. He warns you that he will not be a lenient teacher, but you have seen how this man dove headfirst into danger to save his students; seen his kindnesses that are masked in the form of tough love.

You also know he likes you, at least a little bit. If he hadn’t, he would not have complimented you like that on the third day, would not have had the hint of fondness in his tone as he drawled, that wasn’t a compliment.

And even if he doesn’t, you know he will be at least a little lenient.

You had been the one to heal him, after all.

You are wrong.

You hate running. Always have. You started training, years ago, but that had been entirely out of spite, and in the wake of it⏤ ( your bag, empty of sunflowers )⏤ you had stopped. You hate running, always have, and you have no time, you’d told yourself, nor the energy⏤ but really, you hate it because it reminds you of him.

Now, you hate it for a different reason. You hate it because Aizawa pushes you, hard, until your lungs are gasping for air, your knees and legs trembling⏤ you think, somewhat sourly, that none of your healings had ever prepared you for this. You have healed all manner of wounds, cured a variety of diseases, but that does not change the fact even back when you were running, you had not put everything you had into it, and that now, you are trembling, bones soft, muscles even more so, somewhat like a deer.

You heal fast, though, you always have. You would not have been able to heal without it⏤ Aizawa knows this, which is why he pushes you hard. “If you hadn’t been so dedicated to medicine,” He tells you, “I would’ve told you to go the Hero route instead.”

You shrug. The thought has never occurred to you. Your mother is a doctor, and as soon as your Quirk had developed, you had never thought about anything else. But you don’t get a chance to voice it, or even to thank him, because then he’s hauling you up by the arm.

“Break’s over,” He informs you, a signature shit-eating grin on his face. You think you’re beginning to hate the sight of it. “Back to running.”

You sigh, before dutifully acquiescing.

Schoolwork is easier, at least, though between your sparse shifts at the hospital and Aizawa’s daily after-school training, you are pretty much spent. You don’t even register Mina chatting excitedly beside you about the upcoming UA sports festival that Aizawa has just announced⏤ you only think, a little despairingly; more work.

You glance up at your pink-haired friend’s surprised exclamation, and you see: a crowd of people, so many that from your vantage point, it seems like it’s the intruder incident all over again. A scoff, vaguely familiar⏤ “They’re obviously scoping out the competition, small fries. We’re the group that made it out of the villain attack.” Someone protests, telling him to play nice⏤ no, you think. This is him being nice. “Out of my way, extras!”

“I came to see what the famous Class 1-A is like, but you all seem pretty arrogant. Are all the students in the Hero courses like this?”

You see: a head of purple hair, mussed, and you think⏤ wow, he could be Aizawa if your sensei’s hair was shorter, purple, and he were using his Quirk.

“Seeing something like this makes me disillusioned. There are quite a few people who enrolled in general studies or other courses because they didn’t make it into the Hero course. Did you know that?”

You didn’t, but he only continues.

“The school has left those of us a chance. And based on the results of the sports festival, they’ll consider our transfer into the Hero course, and vice versa. Scoping out the competition?” He scoffs. “I, at least, came to say that even if you’re in the Hero course, if you get too carried away, I’ll sweep your feet out from under you.” His eyes flash, chin raised high. “Consider it a declaration of war.”

You sigh a little internally at the theatrics. “Excuse me, coming through.” You call. You ignore the way the ash-blond tenses a little as you walk up beside him, and you smile politely at the crowd; your uniform your armor, and your makeup your helm. You can do damage control just fine. “I’m class 1-A’s healer, so I don’t have a bone to pick with you really, but,” You cock your head. “All we did was fight off and survive a villain attack. I’m not sure how that’s arrogance. Have any of us gone out of our way to bother you?”

You are sure your classmates haven’t, because though you have not known them long, you are observant enough to tell that they are good and entirely dedicated to the path of Heroism. And you are right: he is wordless in the face of your diplomatic tone, the maturity of it all.

But then⏤ a laugh, somewhat mocking. You think you recognize the voice, and you do: it’s class 1-B’s understudy, standing in the middle of the crowd. You have not talked to her much, thinking her quiet, but it seems that really, she just dislikes you.

“That’s so rich of you to say,” She says, with a scoff. “Sucking up to Recovery Girl all the time, parading around like you own the place, all because you went viral and people started calling you The Best Healer of our Generation.”

You blink⏤ you remember Sueko mentioning it once, you think, after one of your co-workers, one of the older interns had started making videos of you, with your consent. You had not put much thought behind it, and you hadn’t the time to, between your many hours and the boneless weariness that had been so constant in your life after.

“Get off your high horse,” She snarls, a vehement finality to it, as she scans you, up, and then down.

You don’t know what to say, because honestly, you had never thought of yourself that way; had not thought of any others thinking of you that way. There are cries of outrage from behind you, you hear, distantly, as if you are underwater, but you are still stuck on the way she scans you. As if you are less than what you are, reduced to the painted trim of your nails, the makeup on your face, less than what you are and undeserving. As if it does not matter that you go to the hospital more often than not, your features clear, your hair pulled up, and lose yourself in your work; the agony of your patients, healing them and then some more until your bones ache with the ghost of their pain and you drop dead to your pillow, your phone turned off.

You are silent not because you are hurt, exactly⏤ you do not know this girl, and she does not know you⏤ but because you are so stunned. You don’t know what to say, because you have never thought yourself reduced to just this, less than what you are and undeserving. Distantly, you hear the cries of outrage, you feel yourself, adrift amidst an ocean, your hands clenching. You don’t know how to start, or what to even say.

But he does.

“She doesn’t use social media,” He starts, and yes, you don’t, but how does he know? “It obviously wasn’t even her recording the videos, you fuckwit, and it says in the account biography that it’s owned and run by a friend.”

You are staring at him, your heart held like hope in your throat. ( You think of your sunflowers. ) You don’t understand why he is saying this, why he is stepping in for you. ( You remember making fun of the things he likes, and he of yours. You remember finding that you do not regret lying the first day and calling him your best friend, because even if you are not even friends⏤ he is tolerant of you, he punches your pseudo-stalker for you, he walks with you before school, and he walks with you after. He never calls himself your friend, but he believes in you and your dream, and promises to walk you to and from school anyways, even if you do not attend the same one. )

He does not look at you, nor does he pause, and though there is anger in his voice, you think he is holding himself back. “High horse?” He laughs sardonically. “Get off yours. She’s already ten times the healer, hell, the Hero, you’ll ever be.”

( He doesn’t call himself your friend, but he still stands up for you. )

You don’t know what sort of expression you’re making, but it has to be ugly, something complicated, not exactly bewilderment nor gratitude or simply hope but some combination of them all; like something in between.

“And what would you know? What are you, her guard dog?” She snarks back.

And finally, you find your voice.

“He does what he likes.”

You are still watching him, and you see the way his hands clench, and then unclench.

( You think very briefly of your sunflowers, and you think that you will always miss them. You can heal any wound on this earth, save the fatal ones, but you cannot heal the hole he has carved into your heart; not the one from this boy who knows you, every facet, both the good and the bad. You have never needed to hide the unsavory parts of yourself from him; after all, your very relationship was built upon a lie. You think a part of you has always loved him for it, will always love him for it⏤ this boy who is not your friend, has never been your friend, but still knows you, stands up for you, and believes in you, in all of you. And, you think, even if he does not care for you, there will always be a part of you that always cares for him. )

You turn to level her with a cool stare.

“He’s right,” You say. “I don’t use social media, and before you call me a liar, just listen.” You add, as her mouth opens.

( Your mother is a doctor, and when your Quirk develops, you know you want to go the same route. You have never even considered anything else; never even thought of being a Hero, until your sensei tells you that he might’ve pushed you for it, had you not already been so dedicated to the path.

And you will not pretend like you have been good every step of the way⏤ you are not that much of a good person. Your mother tells you to play nice, because you are a willful child, vindictive in both your action and your speech, and petty enough to hold onto your grudges. You are not that much of a good person, you have never particularly cared to cater to the feelings of those around you unless you feel like it; do not care to stand up for a boy who has done nothing to you, just because he has done nothing for you.

You are grown now, better now, you know, but some elements of you still remain. You still wear your outfits like your armor, though it is not your hair but your makeup that is now your helm, you take time with your appearance and you take care of it every morning. Your volunteering at the hospital was not born entirely out of unselfish intention⏤ firstly because your mother said it was what you should do, and second because you thought the experience would look good, especially since you were applying to UA. But⏤ )

“I don’t know why you applied to UA, but I know why I did.” You say, simply. “It was because I wanted to become a healer, and this is one of the best places in the world to do it.” You straighten, jerking a finger at the ash-blond beside you. “We all went through the same application process. Take him, for example. He’s arrogant, he’s loud, and he always gets on your nerves. But that doesn’t make him any less passionate, or any less of a Hero. It doesn’t matter, because if you’re determined enough, strong enough, you’ll eventually rise to the top.”

You are the center of attention, but you have never been so aware of a singular set of eyes, burning straight into you.

You continue. “I don’t know who you are, or what you want to be, but that goes for the rest of you, too.” You jerk your thumb back to your classroom. “There’s a green-haired boy in there that everyone thought was Quirkless, including himself. But he had a dream that he dared to try for, and look where he is now.”

You look at your fellow intern, the class 1-B one.

“I don’t use social media for a variety of reasons, haven’t for a long while, and I won’t pretend like all of them were good. But ever since I started volunteering at the hospital, whenever I think about it, I think: every second I spend scrolling the internet could be another life lost. Someone I didn’t save, something I didn’t learn that could’ve helped someone in the future.” Your shoulders are set, and you lift your chin high. “You can think I’m a liar all you want, but I would hope, as a healer, you would be at least able to understand this.”

She is mute, and you look at the rest of the crowd, wearing your outfit like armor, your makeup, your helm.

You raise one eyebrow. “Anything else?”

Silence is your only answer, and you shrug.

“See you around, I guess.”

The crowd parts mutely before you, but then your wrist is clasped in a hand⏤ you think, very briefly, of sunflowers, but then you turn, and it is Mina grinning up at you, several others from your class in tow. “You’re so fucking cool,” She tells you, bright and genuine.

You are not that much of a good person, never have been, and, you think, you are not entirely sure if you ever will be. You will never be entirely unselfish, free of your precociousness, your pettiness, your occasional lying habits, and all the other thousand-and-one flaws you could find in yourself, if you really tried.

But you are growing. You are the same you that you were before, and you are also different.

You grin at her. “I know I am,” You say.

You are not that much of a good person, but you are growing, just as much the person you were before, as you are someone new.

You are a healer, you are yourself; this is who you are, and this is what you do.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

His mother calls him out on his sulking, barely a week in.

“Did something happen between the two of you?” She frowns, and his heart clenches painfully in his chest.

“S’fine,” He snarls. “Keep your damn nose out of my business, old hag.”

For once, his mother does not take him up on the challenge⏤ he almost wishes she would. He’s been itching for a fight, to get it out of his system somehow, but she’s always been able to read him⏤ just like you.

Mitsuki waves the phone in her hand. “Her father said she won’t be joining us for weekly dinners anymore⏤ she’s started volunteering at the hospital, and just won’t have time.” She states, plainly, and without judgment. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, or if you’re still friends, but you were probably a little shit like usual, so get off your ass and go apologize.”

Apologize. That damned word. He hates it. And he’s considered it, but then he remembers: you, your face, the way it had crumpled, and then the way you’d sneered, don’t talk to me again.

He has always been able to tell your lies from your truths, and it stunned him in the moment, because it had not seemed like so much of a lie.

And it’s not. He sees the truth of it, a week later, when you skip out on your weekly dinners, accept your volunteer position, and cut the whole of him from your life, just like that. He sees the truth of it, on the first day of school, as he waits by your intersection and is almost late because you aren’t there, as he scans his class for your face and finds you absent, when you pass him in the halls and don’t even bother to look up. He sees the truth of it two months later, when that damned nerd stands at your table, a tray in his hands, and you allow him to sit. His heart is in his throat, clenching around something painful, there is smoke rising from his hands⏤ Deku looks up instinctively, flinching, and you do not even bother to turn.

( You and your sunflowers, the way you smile like the sun when you find out he is allergic, and go out of your way to plaster sunflower-themed things all over yourself, and he’s not quite sure if they are your favorite flower, or you do it just because you hate him. But then he gets to know you, slowly and over the years, a thousand-and-one forced interactions until he finds, one day, that he is not reacting so sharply to your barbs, uncaring that you flop onto his bed and muss up the sheets, unminding of your chatter, your studious, stupidly competitive nature, the way your eyebrows knit a little when you focus on a more difficult concept, or how you’re grinning as you annoy him, rambling about anything and everything; your fictional crushes.

You say you want to be a healer, and the first thing he thinks is: that’s stupid, why not a Hero?⏤ but your eyes are determined as you say it, there is a fire in them, and he sees that bleed into the way you do things; the way you act. You never call him your friend⏤ you have, once, very clearly a lie⏤ but he punches your pseudo-stalker for you, promises to walk you to and from school, even if he does not know which one you might go to, promises to teach you how to fight. It’s stupid, he knows it is, the way he tenses when you joke that you want him to kiss you so bad because he’s imagining it. And then the guilt after, when you press your cheek softly into the curve of his nape, feeling the dried-out tracks of your tears, the way you shudder as you steal his pain⏤ barely-there, but he feels it, anyway. )

He looks at you, properly, fork crumpling in his hand. “Yo. You’re staring.” One of his friends nudges him, gently, and he forces himself to look away.

( You, the sunflowers you bedazzle yourself in, your bag absent of them, and the way you never wear anything yellow ever again. )

He’s angry at you, at first. It’s unfair, he thinks, the way you seem to carve him completely out of your life, with all the practiced precision of a surgeon, that he spends almost all his time thinking about you, and that you do not do the same for him. You don’t want to talk to him, you’ve made that abundantly clear, and that’s fine⏤ he has his pride, and he is not going to beg you to stay. Not when you chose the nerd over him.

But then you stand in the doorway. You look like you did the first day, clear-eyed, but older. Your eyes widen when they catch sight of him, ever-slight, but he’s never missed a single expression on your face, and he does not miss it now. All of a sudden, he wants to talk to you so badly that it hurts⏤ he sees the bags under your eyes and wants to tell you to sleep, the bone-weariness with which you carry yourself, your step absent of skip.

But then, your gaze drops. He sees your bag, absent of its sunflowers.

He feels as if his gut were a stone, heavy and damning.

He remembers: you have never once thought of him as a friend, and he will not beg you to. He will respect your space, your wishes.

And yet. You stand by the entrance, the day of that first class, fierce and silhouetted by the sun. Are you hurt? You ask him, and it feels as if he were floating, stuck in a dream.

He takes too long to respond, and you give him a once-over, clearly discerning he is fine. You kneel by the damn nerd’s side, and he feels the absence of your attention like a physical thing, but even that is secondary to the horror he feels when you reach the other boy; his arm painfully bruised and almost a terror to look at.

He wants to say: you don’t have to do this, you don’t have to hurt yourself. There are other healers in the building, and don’t you have a mentor? You raved about Recovery Girl all the time, there’s no reason you should be taking his pain for yourself. And the nerd will be fine⏤ anger clenches at him, then, because if the nerd knows about your Quirk and still allows you to hurt yourself for him⏤ “Why does that even matter?” You ask him, and he hears the ghost of what you don’t say: why do you even care?

He does. Of course he does. He always has, even when you giggle to yourself about something so blatantly stupid, even when you are an entire pain in his ass.

But then he thinks of you, your bag empty of sunflowers, the way you have not worn yellow since.

His arm drops back to his side, and he says nothing more to you, just as you’d like.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

You have always disliked crowds, but so has he.

He is watching you when it happens, sees you lingering hesitantly by the exit. You’ll be smart about it, he’s sure⏤ he’s hotheaded, yes, but that doesn’t mean he’s stupid or blind. But then⏤ brown-haired cheeks tugs you by the wrist, forcing you into the throng, and he thinks: what the fuck?

He knows it’s stupid, and that you won’t thank him for it, but he dives after you, anyway.

He forces his way towards you, watching as you elbow someone particularly hard with a surge of pride, before he’s holding you and marching away, towards the wall, towards free space, trying not to think about how you feel in his arms, how you feel with the whole of you pressed against him. He needs to say something, anything to distract himself, so what he says is: “What the hell were you thinking? You don’t even like crowds.”

Your cheeks are a little flushed, and you are staring at him. He feels his own warm in turn, and he feels like a kid again, heart like a sun in his chest.

Your features still. Your mouth flattens, and you are cold as you say what you did not only a day before. “Why do you even care?” You ask.

He does. Of course he does.

But you do not ask this question in hopes of an answer. Your gaze slides past, and then you go with it, refusing to give him even the time to reach for you.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

When the mist envelops him, the first thing he turns towards is you.

His eyes widen⏤ you are already in the air, lunging at him, and he barely has the mind, the presence of thought to catch you. You fall as one, and his gut lurches⏤ he wraps himself around you, shielding your vitals, your head from harm, and gladly takes the brunt of the impact. He has all of a second to check up on you, to feel you pressed against him, know that you are safe, before he catches sight of more villains behind. “STAY THERE.” He shoves you into a corner, setting his back to you⏤ and when they are done, you have not moved an inch.

He sees the daze of your eyes, the shock, and cups your cheeks anyways, trying to ground you. “Oi,” He says, harsh, but also soft. “You hurt anywhere?”

You blink up at him, and then at the red he barely feels sliding down the side of his cheek.

He jerks away. He doesn’t want you to touch him, not to heal him⏤ he’s strong, he’s fine, he can deal with it, he doesn’t need you to steal his pain. Not when it’ll hurt you.

“I am a healer,” You say, and his heart clenches again at the sound of your voice, and again when you tell him: “You are hurt, and I am simply repaying a favor.”

He hears the steel in your voice, lets you touch him.

He would give anything to curl into your touch, even if for the rest of your life, your relationship is just like this: he, the dog, and your favors, the bone. He wants it, so long as you will keep on touching him like this, and yet he also doesn’t want it, because he cannot bear to be the one causing you such pain.

He is angry beyond words when the extra starts laying into you like she does, and you simply stand there, bearing the brunt of it all.

He’s watched the videos, seen every single one. Seen how hard you work inside of them⏤ the comments talk about how beautiful you are, but all he can think of is the tired pallor of your face⏤ but what’s more is that he knows how hard you work outside, too, and who is this girl to even talk about you like that, when she doesn’t know what it’s like to take the pain of another, and make it into your own? His tone of delivery is quiet, no less than lethal, and he speaks with every ounce of pride he has in you and the person that you are.

You are watching him, he thinks, and he thinks, somewhat dizzily, that this is it. You’ll chew him out in front of the crowd, call him out on his bullshit, tell him to stop speaking about you, speaking for you, that you hate him, that he’s stupid, anything and everything of the above.

But you do not.

You only rise, and he thinks that you are not at all the girl he has known before. Some parts of you are the same, entirely unchanged, but you have grown⏤ so much that it takes his breath away. You have always been coolly elegant in your deliveries when you mean it, but this⏤

He thinks: it is okay if you never want to talk to him, if you don’t care one bit. It is okay if you choose never to wear yellow again, your bag remaining empty of its sunflowers, it is okay if you carve him entirely from your life.

He will respect your wishes, and watch from the sidelines, basking in the radiance of you: the healer, the girl, and simply everything that you are.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

You should not be here.

You feel terribly out of place in this darkened room, with a crowd of familiar villains before you, disoriented and groggy.

If it were not for the ash-blond by your side, you think you might’ve started hyperventilating. You are quiet as you wake. You notice: his hands are bound, but yours are not⏤ they know you are a healer, you think, and they do not fear you.

You feel, rather than see, crimson eyes slide to yours. You blink up at him.

And then, his eyes flicker up.

You see the resolve set firmly onto his face. You know him, likely more than he does himself, which is why you know what he will say.

He says: “I’ll listen. I’ll consider working with you, so long as you make sure to leave her out of it.”

No. The word clangs into you with a force, a viciousness. You jolt upwards, so fast your head spins⏤ no. You know he won’t. He is a Hero to the core, and you know this, because you have decided early on that you will remain a step behind him always, even if he does not care at all for you, there and ready to steal away your pain. You have decided: you will see him live out all of his days, full of glory and entirely unscathed, victorious, and you will not watch him burn his life away like this, tucked away in a corner of this world, quietly and without a sound.

He lies to protect you, and you decide there and then that it isn’t worth it. You know him, have spent a thousand and one days getting to know him, just as you know that his bluff will be called before long, because though Bakugou Katsuki is many things, you have always known him to be a terrible liar.

You aren’t, though.

You straighten, and rasp. “No, he won’t.”

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

He watches you straighten, watches you drawl, and he feels a terror like ice creeping up to his throat.

Your lips are pulled into your liar’s smile, soft and lovely under the candlelight, but then⏤ “Katsuki’s going to be a Hero,” You tell them, and his heart stutters because when was the last time you actually called him by his name?

“Shut the fuck up,” He tells you.

You ignore him.

“Trust me when I say, this guy’s like, the biggest All Might fan you’ll ever see. Well, actually, maybe not the biggest⏤ Midoriya’s collection is insanely impressive, but you get the point. Did you really see his actions at the Sports Festival and think that was your opening?”

You stand, a smirk on your face, and he wants to tell you to shut the hell up again, to just stop talking, but⏤ you turn, you flash him a grin, and it’s like he’s six again and seeing you for the first time. You see him, in a way no one else ever has, in a way that assuages all the criticism he’s seen since, narrowing his world down to these things: you, and your unwavering confidence in him. Your lips are pulled into your liar’s smile, you are scared and terrified and pretty much everything in between, but he hears your words, hears your truth.

“Newsflash, losers. He’s wanted to be a Hero ever since he was a kid, and nothing’s ever going to change that.”

His heart swells so tight he thinks it’s going to burst. You, in this moment, like you still care, that he’s not alone in this, and that he cares for you more than anything else in the world, loves you more than you will ever know.

You do not need to say anything else, because there is a knock on the door⏤ pizza delivery, someone calls, and then the door opens; All Might in the flesh. The heroes⏤ and then you are scrambling for him, your fingers fumbling with the knots, but he simply jerks his hands apart, tearing the fabric, and reaches for yours.

You still a little, surprised, flinching back a bit, but his heart is singing⏤ you care, he thinks, somewhat dumbly, like a mantra bouncing around inside his head. He barely registers the rest of it⏤ he emerges by the ruins of a building, your hand still in his, piloting the both of you around the villains who try to keep you. Shitty Hair, calling down at him from the fucking sky⏤ what the fuck? but then he’s calling for you, and then there is you: looping your arms around his neck, knowing, instinctively, what he means.

His chest warms like the sun, ethereal and glorious.

You blast together into the night. His hand lands upon another one, similarly callused, and then he’s curling his other around you, latching you to him. Your head is settled in the crook of his neck, and you don’t protest it in the slightest, only untangling yourself once you land.

You don’t reach for his hand once you do, but that’s okay. His heart is singing.

He snarls at the others in his usual manner, and you assert yourself with your own. He follows you as you walk, a step behind. The others leave you at the police station, their own parents plenty concerned, and he doesn’t mind it in the slightest⏤ he gets to walk you home, after all.

You are silent as he does. He walks a step behind, and does not prod you.

You stop. He does, too. Your hands ball up into fists. He watches, waiting.

Finally, you whisper. “Why the hell’d you do it?”

That is not at all what he’s expecting you to say.

“Hah?” He’s never been good with his words, always more combative than means. Particularly with you. Especially with you. “Cause I wanted to, dumbass. The hell do you want me to say?”

You whip around and slug him instantly, punching him square in the gut.

He barely bends from the force of it. You clutch your fist, teary and glaring.

“Fuck you,” You hiss. “Fuck you, Katsuki. You don’t just get to pretend like you care when you want to, whenever it suits you! You don’t get to⏤”

He’s stunned into silence. He’s the one that’s pretending like he cares about you?

Your mouth opens and closes, so angry that you cannot quite find the words. “You don’t get to just fucking try and sacrifice yourself for me! What the fuck!”

He steps closer, disbelief lighting a second sun in his chest.

You lash out. “Stay away from me!”

He catches it in his hand, and you try to fucking headbutt him. He dodges that, too, and then he’s pulling you into him, as tight as his heart feels.

You stiffen. Frankly, he doesn’t give a shit, not when he’s figured out how you really feel.

“I’m sorry,” He rasps into your ear. “I care for you. I’ve liked you since we were fucking six, and you shoved your stupid fucking sunflowers in my face. I was angry. I’m sorry. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll have me.”

You do not move. Do not breathe, and for all of a second, he thinks: this is it.

And then, you crumple.

He can count the number of times he’s seen you cry on one hand, but you weep into his shoulder now, a year’s worth of repressed emotions wrung out of you in an instant. You melt into him so perfectly he feels as if he was made for you, the weight of you so perfect and familiar in his arms. “You’re so fucking stupid,” He thinks you are saying though it’s somewhat unintelligible, between your sobs and the way your voice is muffled from being pressed into his chest.

He chuffs in your ear. “Feel free to add blind and ugly to the list, if you’d like.”

You laugh, broken and teary, but then your arms rise, and you are wrapping them around him.

He thinks: it’s okay if the world ends right then and there, so long as he gets to hold you; just like this; just then and there; just for a moment longer.

( He thinks of you and your sunflowers, your liar’s smile. How your face had lit up in absolute delight at the sound of his first sneeze, and how you’d stepped forward to thrust it further into his face, a wicked grin on yours all the while. How you lie your way into weekly dinners, and he’s furious, swearing he won’t talk to his parents for the whole of a month⏤ but then you’re there, in his room and making fun of his figurines.

You say, somewhat disinterestedly, that you think you remember a new All Might one on the market. He caves, and his vow lasts only a week.

He thinks of you and your sunflowers, your liar’s smile. How he had always hated the sight of them before you; a young god faced with his one mortal weakness, but as time went on, he learned how he did not quite mind the look of them on you. He thinks of you and your sunflowers, your liar’s smile; soft and lovely under the candlelight, scared and shaking and terrified but still believing wholly in him, just as he does you.

He thinks he has loved you since forever. )

Absent-mindedly, he presses his mouth to your hair.

And in the light of the dawn, pink-streaked and painting you awash in sunflower yellow, you look up at him, and smile.

bc i need to rant about this fic: afterword

#bakugo #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugou #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #[✧] — writing!

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candiehearts · 1 month

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“He’s My Person.”

Paring: Hugh Jackman x Actor F!Reader

Summary: You and your co-star Hugh Jackman are in the eye of the public. Your fans always loving the dynamic between the two of you. However no one knew if you would be anything more than friends, not even you.

- oneshot, Hugh Jackman M.List, Navigation — other works!

Warnings: None!

Taglist: Just ask to be added.

I walked past the camera set crew, and smiled when I saw Hugh sitting in one of the chairs. The Aussie immediately stood up, and gave me a hug.

Today was the first, of many interviews for the press tour of X-Men Origins Wolverine. I had been so lucky to get a part in this film, and I loved filming every second of it.

The lights dimmed a little, and focused on us and the cameras started to roll.

“Welcome, welcome you too.” I smiled at her and did a little wave to the camera. “First I would like to say congratulations on your achievement in making this film.”

“Thank you, that’s really sweet.” I could feel red lightly forming on my cheeks at the praise while Hugh — like the professional he is, take the compliment like a champ. “Thank you, much appreciated.”

“Now we have a bit of a game set up for us to do, but first some questions.”

Oh gosh, I could feel slightly nervous, but Hugh placed his palm on my knee and slightly rubbed it with his thumb. Calming my nerves.

“Now Hugh, you’ve done X-Men for quite some time now, but Y/N this is your first time in the Marvel franchise.”

Hugh squeezed my knee slightly, and gave me a proud smile while he rested his chin on his other hand.

“Yes well it’s such an honor.” I couldn’t help but feel a tiny nostalgic when I remembered how I started my career and where I’m at now. “I had done some small films before, but nothing like this. It was truly a one of a kind experience.”

I was expecting for another question, but Hugh spoke up as well. “Not to mention Y/N is such an amazing actor — and she’s always fun to work with. She’s a very good sport when things don’t go right the first time.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that sounded like a giggle leaving my lip, a smile brightening my face.

“Careful Hugh I might think you’re flirting with me.” I wouldn’t mind that, and this teasing, flirting thing we do is something we’ve always done since we first met each other.

“You two are adorable.” The interviewer — Annie — commented. “What was your favorite thing to film.”

Oh god, this is a trap. The movie hasn’t hit theaters, and there’s only so much we can say before it comes out.

I slapped my hand over Hugh’s, “kissing Hugh Jackman.” That little bit was in the trailer — so it’s the safest thing to say, if not the honest.

Hugh didn’t his cute little laugh, a snort breaking free, before he regained his composure.

“I won’t lie, I 100% messed that scene up so I could just kiss the wonderful Y/N again. So I’ll have to agree with her there.”

My face started to warm in embarrassment while I hid inside my hands, all while Hugh laughed — his hand never leaving my knee.

“Do either of you have a date to the premier? If yes, then do you mind saying?”

My response came so quick out of my mouth I didn’t have a moment to process what I was saying, though that’s how I am a lot of the time. “Hey, Hugh, wanna be my date?”

Hugh looked at you, and despite his smile, and the humor in his voice — his eyes were laced in seriousness. “It would be the greatest honor of my life, to walk down that carpet on your arm like eye candy.”

I blew him a kiss, teasing him before looking right back at the camera. “I might look fine right now, but trust me girls I’m screaming on the inside.”

The whole camera crew started to laugh, while I silently laughed as well.

“In ten or words less describe each-other’s character.” I gestured for Hugh to go first to which he took a moment to think, using his fingers.

“Badass solider that always completes a mission no matter what.”

Fuck. Alright.

“A military solider that can’t die, infused with metal.” Fuck I need another word. “Handsome.”

“Aweeeee.” Hugh leaned over and kissed my cheek.

The sound of cheering was the only thing I could hear as I grabbed a hold of Hugh’s arm and made our way onto the carpet.

“God, what if I fall on my face?” I stopped just before my heel could meet with the carpet. Too nervous to go on.

“Y/N, you’re going to be okay. I won’t let you fall.” He laced his fingers with mine and walked us down the carpet, giving me the push I needed to get out of my own head.

The paparazzi photos started to flash immediately, blinding me but I had been used to this by now — so I just kept my focus.

Hugh leaned down to my ear, whispering a joke about how a photographer back would hurt tomorrow in that position, causing me to laugh.

The lights went crazy as he hugged laughed with me, “you look very beautiful tonight.”

“I might have to make you my date to every premier Mr. Jackman.”

We made our way to the first reporter of the night, sticking close together.

“Good evening.” She was a pretty decidedly young girl, and you could see how nervous she was. “Hi/G’day.” Me and Hugh responded.

“So you two are each other’s date, any special chemistry going on.” The Aussie wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him, while I held his shoulder with my left arm. This position was suggestive, but it was teasing.

Unfortunately, to my disappointment we weren’t seeing each other.

“One day.”

One day.

You couldn’t help but give him a smile, and he returned it with the same exact emotion in his eyes. Care, and love.

Over the next few years, you and Hugh had worked on a few projects together, but even if you weren’t, you and him always were close and kept in touch.

You would grab dinner together often, or sometimes when one of you were free and the other was busy on a set, it wasn’t strange that one of you would fly out to the other.

Everyone believed that one of you were together, especially after a video leaked of you and Hugh slow dancing at a house party together.

But whenever asked about it, you two would always either say, “not yet,” or “one day.”

You were having a premier coming up, and it was the only time that there was a chance that Hugh couldn’t make it. So everyone was wondering if you would bring anyone else. It was well known you didn’t like going places without someone close to you.

You sat with one of your co-stars and smiled at the interviewer that was asking the question on everyone’s mind.

“Are you sure you and Hugh Jackman are not dating.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the phrasing of her words.

“Hugh Jackman? Never heard of him.” The crew and your Co-Star started laughing, but you did answer the question. “No we’re not dating.” It was the first time the two of you were direct with it, and not being vague.

Overtime you grew to love Hugh, and to be honest you didn’t know if you could keep telling yourself ‘one day.’ Because in your head you two weren’t only giving fans false hope, but you were giving it to yourself.

“Hugh is away filming, you always take him to events, since he won’t be here will you take someone else.”

You were quiet for a moment, thinking through your answer.

“To be honest, even if I wanted to take someone else I don’t think I could.” You looked down to your lap before continuing. “Hugh is such a major part of my life. Really he’s my pillar. He will always be the one a I take, and if I can’t take him then I wouldn’t go with anyone else.”

“It sounds like you deeply care for him. Are you sure there’s no feelings?” She didn’t ask if you were dating, but if you had feelings.

“Hugh Jackman is so many things. He’s a great dancer, actor, singer. Full of so many talents — and I always love the fact that I am apart of his life. Because most of all He’s my person.”

You finally looked back up to the interviewer.

“If something were to ever happen between us, then it would have already.”

Sure you fans would be sad, and even you, but it was time to finally put the rumors to rest.

You were a little quieter through the rest of the interview, but still kept it fun.

Hugh downed his drink. He was on a plane, flying back to you. He wore a tux so he could be on the ready to go so when he lands, he can confess, then they can make their way to the premier — where he can make it known to the world.

He was watching your interview, and when you put said that you two weren’t happening, he felt panic.

He cursed himself for waiting too long. But the truth was he felt like with his career going the way it was that maybe he wasn’t ready for a relationship. He was an idiot.

He felt terrible for leading you on so long, but he would make it right — and hope maybe you still liked him.

By the time he finally landed you had just walked onto the carpet, alone. So he paid the driver extra to just step on the gas.

Once he was let in — the crowd started going wild. He was on the carpet, and he didn’t stop to take photos, or talk to people.

He set his sights on you and immediately started to hurry to you. And ironically it was like something from a movie.

The cameras all the sudden started going crazy, and you looked to your right to see what was going on, but was met with a Hugh Jackman out of breath, and grabbing your face.

“Hugh? When did—“ You were cut off by his lips pressing into yours. His hands gently leaving your cheeks, and resting on your neck while he pulled you closer.

You parted just a little, so he could whisper his confession to you.

“You’re my person too. I’m sorry for being an idiot, but I’m an idiot in love with you.”

A smile took over your face, finally your one day was today. “Just kiss me again, you bloody fool.” You didn’t need to tell him twice — and the camera was absolutely going crazy.

The rest of the premier, Hugh had a few lipstick stains on his face that he didn’t even bother to wipe away.

He was took focus on the smile that was on your face, the same smile that matched his.

The next day Hugh found a photo of you two kissing, with Ryan Reynolds shocked, smiling face, he immediately posted it, letting your fans know that your finally got together with the caption, “my person.”

You two also made that your locks screen and every time either of you are asked about your friendship with Ryan, you immediately talk about it.

—

#hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman #hugh #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #x men #x men origins: wolverine #x reader #Hugh x reader #Hugh Jackman x you

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vnti-vntiety-recs · 5 months

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LEARNING CURVES (M)

★ PAIRING: 00 line x Reader (ft.Mark)

☆ WORD COUNT: 23k

★ GENRE(S): Pure Smut

☆ SUMMARY: After a negative sexual encounter in high school, fear and reluctance hold you back from exploring new experiences. However, a friend offers advice that shifts your perspective, suggesting that perhaps all you need is some practice to improve and feel more confident in trying new things outside of your comfort zone. You would need a lot of practice.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Multiple sexual acts, unprotected sex, orgy, cursing, choking. Literally just sex.☆★ NOTES: I had some fun writing this, shout out to my friend for literally living this life. You made dreams come true.

You loved being able to catch up with your friends; it was rare you got to see them nowadays with your conflicting schedules and new adult responsibilities. By now, you were all grown up, having traded in your sibling-shared rooms for an open loft and independence. You lived alone, and while at times it can feel lonely, you really enjoyed the time to yourself. Spending time alone would allow you to learn more about yourself.

Today, after debriefing with your friends about their sex lives, you discovered that yours is about as dry as the Nevada desert.

Your friends occupy the living room space of your new loft. You had been in your new home for about a month when they decided to come over for a housewarming party. With Jisung's tall, lean frame stretched out on the couch, everyone else had to make room on the floor. Being a lightweight. He ended up knocking out before anyone else. Your friends Chenle, Yang Yang, Yuna, and Mia surround you on the floor. Your not sure how the conversation got started, but everyone was recounting embarrassing sexcapades from the past.

“And then he fell asleep on top of me after finishing. He was practically crushing me; I thought I was gonna die,” Yuna laughs hysterically at the memory.

The idea of your friend experiencing that makes you shudder. Your other friends laugh along easily. The empty alcohol bottles that decorate your carpet and countertops can only indicate one thing: everyone was off their ass drunk. There was easy conversation, unceasing laughter, and smiles so big they hurt your cheeks.

The stories continue on, and you’re enjoying the time you get to spend together. Yanyang tells you about some girl he went home with after class one day and how she could only get off if he was wearing a cat headband.

“So you pretended to be her kitten the whole time?” Mia asked with a laugh. You could tell she was getting a kick from the mental image of Yangyang purring like a kitten.

“It was hot, actually!” He protests.

"Well, I thought this story was supposed to be embarrassing? You’re in to petplay, big whoop?” You chime in.

"Well, it only got weird when she started calling me Mr. Whiskers,” he groans out of anguish at the memory.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but you were practically weeping at this point. “MR.WHISKERS??”

“There's no way! Tell me you left!” Chenle adds,

“I had to see it through” Yang Yang shakes his head before shrugging. “What about you, miss lonely? Any stories? Don't think we haven't noticed how quiet you are” Yang Yang targets you.

You feel a chill down your spine, like a bucket of ice water was just dumped over you. Although they were more of the second-hand variety, your friends did have some embarrassing stories. They weren't the ones that embarrassed themselves, and that intimidated you a little from telling your own story. Yours had been so embarrassing that you refused to try anything sexual since then. You felt like they wouldn't understand.

"Well, I haven’t really done much.” You say. You wanted to avoid the conversation.

“Oh come on, what about Doyoung? You two didn’t do anything?” Yuna asks.

“No, Well, not really” You could feel your cheeks heating in embarrassment. This was why you didnt want to talk about it. Your lack of sexual experience was probably the reason he broke up with you.

“I've only ever given head, and it was really bad,” you finally admit.

"Well, come on. It was your first time; you can’t beat yourself up about it,” Yuna encourages.

It was back in high school; you had been dating Doyoung for a few months, and you were both ready to take the next step in the relationship. You were too afraid to go too far, so you offered to just give him head.

You should have known better than to try to sneak away at school, but you were young and foolish. Things took a turn for the worse after you and Doyoung slipped into a supply closet in between classes.

You were both really inexperienced and only knew sex from porn. You were overly cocky in your abilities, and so was he. When you first put him in your mouth, you didn't mind your teeth at all. You used too much saliva, making everything too messy. He couldn't get hard at all, so it was hard to stroke it, and so you were just awkwardly flailing your wrist on his length. He wasn't that big, and you thought that maybe if you took him farther down your throat, he would feel better. Big mistake.

You swore it barely touched the back of your throat, but you had just finished lunch like 30 minutes prior, and honestly, the unfamiliar taste of his precum was making your stomach turn a little. The next thing you know, your throwing up on his shoes.

“And then the janitor walked in, and he had to help clean up my throw up” You finish your story, hands cringing at your sides.

Your friends had listened intently through the whole story without interrupting once. You finally look up from your lap to scam their reactions.

Chenle was biting his lip, holding back a laugh for his dear life. Yuna was trying her hardest to look serious as she nodded her head in understanding, but you could see the tears in her eyes that threatened to fall from how hard she wanted to laugh. Yangyang and Mia were fully turned around; all you could see was their shoulders shaking.

“THIS IS SERIOUS!” you whine in aggravation. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. The previous silent laughter turned to full-blown cackling. They were so loud, it made Jisung stir on the sofa.

You pout and cross your arms, trying to shrink yourself away. Thinking back on it after all these years, it was funny now, but it had really taken a toll on your self-confidence. You couldn't even get Doyoung hard, and after he broke up with you, you found it hard to try again. You had dated a few other guys here and there, but the moment they tried to get more physical, you got cold feet. You were a virgin, but if you wanted to be technical, you lost your virginity to a fence in the 5th grade while trying to climb a fence. You had slipped and fallen hard on the fence. You didn't realize it at the time, but the blood in your underwear that day was caused by your hymen breaking, not a deep cut from the fence you couldn't find.

Your friends finally calm down after they see you not laughing along. "Hey, we're sorry,” Mia apologizes “Does it still bother you?”

"Yes,” you say

"Jeez, its been years; you really haven’t had any better experience than that?” Chenle says

“You always know exactly what to say,” you say dryly.

“What he meant to say was you were young and that was a long time ago; you shouldnt beat yourself up about it.” Mia glares at Chenle.

“I guess,” you shrug unimpressed

"Well, practice makes perfect so your not gonna get better if you do nothing,” chenle says

This time, you shoot him a glare at his brutal honesty.

That's how you find yourself downloading Tinder. You had thought about it over the next few days. Your friends were all grown up and living their best lives, and you were still stuck on something that happened in your freshman year of high school. Years had passed, and you needed to move on. Maybe Lele was right? Maybe all you needed was to go out and keep falling until you could stand up on your own. Clearly, they had had their fair share of embarrassing stories, and it had helped them grow. You had a lot of growing to do if you were going to make up for the last few years.

You make your profile very simple. You add a few cute photos; nothing risky because you’re still afraid you might run into one of your friends on the app, and you would just die if they found your account.

You add the description of “just looking for fun” and hope you can cast your net wide enough to catch someone promising.

You swipe for about half an hour until you get tired. You had a lot of planning to do. Chenle probably didn't mean it literally, but that's how you were going to take it.

You knew nothing about being intimate or physical with someone, but you were quite bookish. Instead of love and companionship, you were drawn towards studies and literature.

If there was something you didn't know, you would just crack it open and study its insides. That is how you would approach this; you would treat it as an equation that, with a little bit of study, you could solve.

Practice makes perfect...

Practicing math makes you a mathematician

Practicing science makes you a scientist

Practicing law makes you a lawyer

So technically speaking, if we follow the trend, if we recognize the pattern...

Practicing sex makes you a sexist?

Ok no, but you get the point. With practice, you should improve.

Your phone dings, and you smile at the message you got “What kind of fun are you looking for?”

Renjun was his name, and you had made plans to meet with him this weekend. In between classes and work, you made time to prepare yourself to meet Renjun. You had spoken to him briefly through text. You had told him that you were inexperienced and were only comfortable with giving head. He told you not to worry and that he was more than okay with that.

First things first: you had to deal with your first bully if you wanted to move past your past and loosen its hold on you. The thing that made you insecure, the thing that kept you up at night, you had to overcome.

THE BLOWJOB

You had prepared for this day all week. You read article after article of different techniques to try. You had gone through a whole 18 pack of popsicles, and by the 10th one, you had finally managed not to gag when you reached the last color. You couldn't quite pat yourself on the back yet; you weren't sure if you were getting better or if you had just frozen your tonsils. Today, you would find out, though.

You nervously clutch your phone as you shoot him a text letting him know you were outside. He buzzes you in, and you make your way up to apartment 0323 on the third floor. When he opens the door, you can't help but return his smile. You shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but this cover was really pretty.

Renjun just had a welcoming aura that made you feel comfortable. When you come inside, he asks if you want anything to drink, and he shows you where his bathroom is in case you need it, making you feel at home. After he does a short walk through, he leads you back to the living room, and you both sit on his couch.

“This is a really nice place,” you comment, awkwardly unsure of what to say “Do you have roommates?” His apartment was very large; you noticed it was on the nicer side of town, and you saw at least 4 bedrooms.

“Yeah, but I kicked them out tonight,” he says before eyeing you up and down “I want to take my time with you”

Your skin instantly heated up at his bold words. The kind man who had smiled and welcomed you into his house might have been a fox.

“I've only ever done this once before, and I'm not really sure if I’ll be any good,” you say, unable to hold his eye contact.

“Its ok baby; I’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he says softly “You wanna sit closer so I can see your pretty face?” He says it gently.

You scoot closer so that your thighs are touching. “There's my girl,” he says, and you can feel your heart rate pick up at the praise. He doesn’t look away from you once; his piercing stare makes you feel shy.

Your eyes are glued to your hands, folded politely in your lap, and when he reaches out to intertwine his with yours, you wonder if he can feel the way your hands tremble in his grasp.

“Are you scared? Why are you shaking baby?” he asks sweetly, using his other hand to caress your cheek soothingly. “Don’t be afraid, baby we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do” He strokes your face for a bit longer before lightly gripping your chin and pulling you to finally face him “Do you want to do this, baby? Let me hear your pretty voice”

His compliments twist at your heart again, and it feels like you’re under his spell. He spoke to you in a way that was sweet like honey; it made you want to comply with everything he asked of you.

He smiles at the dopey look on your face when he calls you pretty “You like it when I talk to you like that? Hmm pretty?” Still not brave enough to take a full sip from you without your permission, he pecks the corner of your mouth. "You have to answer me, or we can't have fun."

You nod lazily, and you try to chase his lips when he pulls away.

he pulls back "words," and his eyes look glazed over as he stares at your lips.

“Yes, I want this,” you whisper breathlessly

He kisses you gently, barely allowing you to savor his taste, before he pulls away again. “Let's take it slow, ok? I got you; just follow my lead,” he says, inches away from your mouth. You nod impatiently and surge forward again, claiming his lips against yours.

You were really eager; you didn't realize how touch-starved you were until tonight. You were pressed heavily against his side as you worked your lips over his. It was a very sloppy kiss, but you loved every second of it. His lips were so soft, you couldn't help but groan against them.

You felt a rough hand against your sternum until it traced up towards your neck. His finger tips barely grazed the skin of your neck. He caressed you there for a moment before his grip turned firm, and he pushed you back just enough to get your attention. You whine in disappointment, and he kisses the pout on your lips.

“I said slow, baby I’m not going anywhere,” he says softly. He tries to keep things light so you don't become discouraged. “You taste so good; I want to savor it,” he soothes with praise.

He spoke in a way that made your stomach do backflips. You nod and take a deep breath. You wait patiently for him to lean in and allow him to take the lead. He kisses you slowly and sensually. You can fully understand what he meant earlier when he said he wanted to savor it. There was something about his slow, almost lazy kisses that had you gripping his thigh. He slips his tongue inside your mouth and strokes against yours. You gently suck on his tongue, matching his energy. When he pulls away, you have trouble catching your breath.

“like that, ok? you try now”

You lean in and kiss him, copying all the things he did to you before pulling away.

Your eyes were completely glazed over at this point. Your body was loose, all tension from before evaporating. His kisses were like liquor.

“Good baby,” he says.

You were ready for more, so you sank off the couch until you were situated between his legs. He doesn't say a word while you buckle his belt, holding your eye contact as you discard it to the side. He helps you by pulling his pants down his thighs before pulling himself out of his briefs. He stood in front of you completely hard, and your heart feels light.

You did it! He was hard, and all you did was kiss. first obstacle overcome! You smile dopely at him, and he returns the look with a soft smile before caressing your cheek.

“What are you so happy for, baby? Want it that bad?” He says this, stroking himself languidly.

With your new-found confidence, you shoo his hand away and grip the base.

step one… firm grip

step two… pump and suck

or was it suck then pump?

You tried to remember the articles you had read, but it was like your brain was short-circuiting.

“Relax, baby, don't think about it.” He pats the top of your head soothingly “Open your mouth,” he guides. You do as he says and wait for the next command, “stick your tongue out”

You stick out your tongue and slap the length lightly against your fat tongue before pulling it off and licking from the base to the tip again.

You lick at the underside of his tip before kissing it. “Is this ok?” you ask shakily. From the way his breath picks up slightly, you suppose your off to a good start.

"Baby, you are doing so good for me. "Just like I taught you, take it slow," he says, panting a little.

You give him a nod, then glance back at his lovely pink tip. You suck on the tip experimentally, being extra cautious of your teeth. When you pulled up, you massaged the head with your tongue. You get comfortable, and soon your ready to take more. You slip down further on his length and stroke what you cannot fit in your mouth. His cock had a slight curve to it, and you were hesitant to go deeper. You didn't account for that with the straight popsicles you would suck. You stay within your comfort zone and work him as best you can. You start twisting your wrist at his base, and when you come up for air, you drag your hand up, chasing your mouth, to twist your wrist at his tip. This causes him to let out a moan.

“Just like that, baby, you’re doing so good”

The praise goes to your head, and before you can second-guess yourself, you suck one of his balls gently into your mouth. the way his hips jerk up suddenly scares you. you think you did something wrong but he immediately encouraged you.

“Keep your eyes on me, baby; im close”

You kiss your way back up the shaft until you take it back into your mouth. you moan around his length and he shudders.

“That's right, baby, almost there,” he says, his voice thick with arousal. You feel his hand at the back of your neck as it gently guides you up and down. “do you trust me?” he asks

You nod subtly, trying not to scrape him with your teeth. “Breathe in deep,” he tells you as he lifts you off his length.

You take a deep breath, and you know what is coming. You practiced for this. You were ready.

He guides you back down his length. Slowly sinking you down, forcing you to take more of him as he hits the back of your throat. Your eyes tear up immediately, and your hands move to grip at his thighs. Your nose is tucked into his abdomen as you deep-throat him.

Yes! You were doing it! This wasnt so-

You cough violently after a few seconds of having him down your throat, and he pulls you up immediately. You catch your breath, trying to contain your harsh coughing fit. Renjun is stroking himself in front of you, and you open your mouth again, letting him stroke over your tongue.

Without warning, he finishes all over your lips and face. You lick at your lips, tasting the mess. It tasted salty and bitter

It was a long day; you didn't have any courses today, but you'd just finished a lengthy shift and wanted to relax. Soft music fills your home while you give yourself the princess treatment. You really needed to relax, so you lit a few candles.

When you get home, you take a hot bath. You had filled the tub with bubbles, which reached your neck as you sank down into it.

Only when there was a knock did you realize there was a body in the doorway. You nearly leap out of your skin, only to discover it was Chenle.

“What are you doing in my house” you heave in a breath, trying to calm your heart.

With a playful hop onto your countertop, he mocks you, "Spare key." You feel at ease in his company despite being nude; Chenle was more like a brother to you. The bubbles were pretty dense, so you doubted he could see anything. “Had to do a welfare check; you werent texting back in the groupchat”

“I've been busy,” you say hesitantly. You hadnt told your friends about your escapades. You were too nervous, and you definitely knew they wouldn't like the idea of you meeting up with strangers in the middle of the night.

“Your hiding something,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you

"Well, I am in the middle of taking a bath,” you joke.

“Not what I mean,” he says, rolling his eyes “what have you been up to, you sneak”

You gave a deep, heavy sigh. Lele was the kind of person who would dig until he found the truth, so it was best to just tell him. You spare the two of you the hassle.

“I took your advice.”

“My advice?”

“Yeah, on practicing... you said I should practice if I wanted to get better.”

“I was wondering why you had three twelve packs of bombpops in your freezer” Lele tilted his head with a nod.

“So I did, and... I hooked up with someone” You sink further into the tub until only your eyes are visible above the bubbles.

“Tell me everything; I want every detail.” A Cheshire grin spreads across his face as he smiles at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

Honestly, you have been dying to talk to someone about this. You tell him how you met Renjun through Tinder, how sweet he was, and how comfortable he made you. Chenle is leaning forward, nodding along with everything you say, fully immersed in your story. It wasn't until you finished that he let out a shocked chuckle.

"Wow, baby bird has finally left the nest,” he jokes, “so whats next? You're going to keep seeing this guy?”

You liked Renjun, but you weren't ready for a relationship just yet, especially after only swallowing his dick. You aren't done with your expirations yet. You still had to find your other test subjects. You reasoned that including a variable would help you assess how much you were progressing and if you were truly improving. Renjun was nice, but it was almost time for someone new.

“Maybe. I dont know. Im not really ready for a relationship”

“Are you just looking for something fun?”

Precisely

Although he told you a thousand times that you did an amazing job, you still weren't satisfied. You could hardly take him down your throat. You would need more practice if you were going to be able to take on something bigger one day.

You had been training your gag reflex lately; this would decide if you were ready to move on to the next stage. You had looked up somewhere that practicing on a banana might get you used to the natural curve of a penis, but when it broke off into your throat and you almost choked on it, you decided to play it safe and stick to your ice pops. At least those would melt before you choked and died. You could stand proud the next time you see Renjun.

He buzzed you up like last time, and your steps were a little lighter as you bound up his stairs for the second time.

“Hey pretty, are you ready for another lesson?”

This time, as he brings you in, he takes you directly to his bedroom. You get a little nervous; you weren't ready for that yet. He notices your tense shoulder and laughs softly. “Calm down; we’re not doing anything like that. I just wanted you to be comfortable,” he explains

You relax and follow him as he crawls into his bed. His room was very... Renjun, or at least what you thought Renjun to be like. Ambient mood lighting casts a gentle golden glow throughout his space. He was very clean and ordered, and his room had an overall calm and cozy vibe to it.

He got comfortable against his headboard, and as you positioned yourself in between his legs on your stomach. His bed sheets smelled like fresh laundry, and it was like you were lying on a cloud. You prop yourself up on your elbows and begin working. You are grateful that things with Renjun were strictly business. You hated small talk, and this dynamic would make things less awkward in the long run. You reach forward and are about to pull him out of his shorts when he stops your wrists short.

“You gotta work me up, baby, not yet,” he explains.

Slow, steady, and sensual. That's how Renjun liked to move. You were getting better at understanding him. He liked it slow, and he liked it when you teased him.

You trailed your hand up and down his thighs; he was only in some sleep shorts, so you teasingly trailed your hand under the fabric and stroked high on his skin. You pushed up the other leg of his shorts as you laid hot kisses against the skin there. You kissed up his thigh and over his bulge that was starting to strain against his shorts. He was bare under, and just the thought alone had your mouth watering. You had to remind yourself to take it slow.

You trail your hand even higher under the fabric of his shorts until you softly grip his length. You kiss him through the fabric as you softly stroke his hard cock. It was right in front of you, and he was refusing you. You had to squeeze your thighs together as you pictured the way you would finally get to shove his cock down your throat. Your grip tightens at the thought, and his soft moans that now flow from his lips tell you that he's ready for more.

You finally slip him out of his shorts and take him into your mouth. You rest the tip against your tongue as you lazily lick him up. You hold his eye contact as you take more and more of him into your mouth. You hum around him in pleasure as his face twists in pleasure.

"Fuck, mmm so pretty. so fucking pretty with your mouth full,” he moans "I could watch you all day, just like that baby, just like that”

You could feel that familiar sense clouding your head; you were sinking again. Your thoughts traveled to that special place, and his words alone made you feel drunk.

Fuck going slow; you needed him down your throat. You pull up to take a deep breath in through your nose and sink down on him again. You take all of him and settle at his base. You look up at him from your position, and you can see his mouth drop open in a silent moan.

He heaves a breath and grips the sheets as you slurp loudly on your way up. You work at his base with a tight fist before sinking back down again. You repeat the motion a few times before you feel his hands collecting your hair up into a ponytail. He uses the makeshift ponytail as a handle to guide you up and down his length. The next time you come down, he holds you still for a few seconds, and you can feel his hips shyly cant up, fucking your throat. You cough hard and smack at his thigh for air. He draws you up, and your wet, tearful eyes meet his. However, a fox returned the stare. The fox he had hidden beneath his sheep's skin was finally showing his teeth.

“Back down, baby, we're going to make you learn tonight,” he says “Open your mouth”

You obey, and he grips your jaw with one hand while the other brushes his length on your lips before lowering you flush against his pelvis. “Come on, take it. Its all yours pretty,” he grunts, fucking your face until he feels your throat tighten again and he pulls you up. “Breathe, come on, baby we got to get that throat fucked out”

And your down again. He pulls you up and holds your head in place as he thrusts shallowly into your mouth and over your tongue. “Hands off, I got you," was another command.

You snake one of your hands down your front as he uses your throat for his own pleasure. He was so deep down your throat that you never wanted him to pull out. You circle your clit a few times as you get lost in your own pleasure.

“Almost there, look at me,” he cries as his hips begin to stutter so close to release. He brings you down again, and his thighs shake. He was about to pull you up, no doubt to finish on your face, but you refused to pull off. You force him to cum deep down your throat.

You pull off swallowing quickly before you start coughing again. You help him ride it out with a few weak pumps of his cock. You watch him catch his breath as he looks at you with nothing but disbelief in his eyes.

“How was that? Was that okay? Was I going to fast-”

He sits up and pushes you back onto the bed. He kisses you deeply and moans at the lingering taste of himself on your tongue.

“How about I show you?” He kisses down your body over your clothes until hes settled between your legs. “Let me show you how that felt, please. Let me make you feel good,” he begs

The look he gives you makes you ruin your panties all over again. You had never had anyone touch you like that before but you trusted him.

“Show me”

You conquered the blowjob and then the blowjob conquered you. After passing out in his room, you snuck out the next morning before his roommates woke up. You didn't plan on seeing him again after this and that left you feeling a bit down. There was no time to dwell on it, though. It made you wonder if Renjun was correct in saying you were moving too fast, since after two positive experiences, you were already thinking about exploring further.

Who would be your next target?

RIDING

Renjun was right. Renjun was 100% right. You needed to slow down.

You wanted to move things along; you were eager to learn more about your own body, so you opted to start small. Well, as little as a 7-inch dildo could be. Although you had never used a toy like this before, you were no stranger to an orgasm. You definitely made yourself come before but you used some shoddy vibrator you got when you were 18 from the back of some edgey store in the mall that had a small adult section.

You had ordered this toy offline and didn't think it would be as big as it was until you got it in the mail. It wasn't super grithy but the stretch still scared you. Maybe you should have listened to the online forums and started small with 4 inches but at the time, 4 inches didn't sound like a lot. That was less than a five-dollar footlong at subway and you were always still hungry after eating one of those. No matter how much lube you used, no matter how aroused you were, you couldn't take it. You will have to try again later.

You had effectively scared yourself back into a corner. You decided to take a break from your “studies” and focus on school and work. Maybe you just weren't ready to leave your comfort zone yet.

Your life returns to normal for a bit; you work, come home, then sleep. You wake up early for class, go to work, then come home and sleep. You wake up early for class, go out with your friends, come home, and then sleep. It was a constant rinse and repeat of the same things. You had hobbies but none of them were as interesting as the one thing plaguing your mind recently.

You needed dick, bad.

Against your better judgement, you eventually hit Renjun up again and you guys meet up a few more times. He'd come over to your house the last few times because he complained about not being able to get his roommates out of the house. You loved pleasing Renjun and he loved pleasing you but his tongue and fingers weren't enough for your greedy pussy anymore. You needed more.

You lay in bed one night after Renjun left, having finished another session with you and even though he had made you cum your pussy was still throbbing for more. You knew if you had asked, he would have given it to you, but you wanted to investigate on your own and conduct your own research before diving headfirst into something like that.

You reach down into your soaked panties and rub at your clit lazily. You squeeze your legs together as your pussy clamps down around nothing. You try to mimic the way Renjun had his fingers shoved knuckles deep in you earlier; you trace at your slit and work in a finger curling it the same way he did. It wasn't enough. You add another one and work yourself up, pumping your fingers pathetically inside and grinding the palm of your hand against your clit. It still wasn't enough, and even adding a third finger still didn't satisfy you. You needed something bigger. You shudder at the thought but pull your fingers out of your dripping cunt. You reach under your bed for your box and set it on your bed before pulling out your new toy.

“Take it slow; just like I taught you,” you repeat his words to yourself.

You line the toy up to your entrance and coat it in your juices. Your about to push it inside when you decide to play it safe and add more lube. Now that the toy is fully coated, you can get comfortable on your back and ease it inside. Your a lot more relaxed this time than when you first tried. Renjun had already made you cum earlier, and you thank him for his services. You slid the tip in and took more and more until it was at least 2/3 inside. You didn't particularly like the rubbery feel of the dildo; you bet Renjun would feel better nuzzled deep inside you. You imagine him inside of you and its like your body opens up and your able to take the rest.

You kick your legs open further, spreading them wider. You don't move for a few seconds, getting used to something being this deep inside of you. You found it hard to pull the toy out, your insatiable core clamping down tight onto it. Your able to find a small, shallow rhythm, barely able to pull it out, your back arching as you fuck yourself. You wriggle as you shove the toy in farther—suddenly, seven inches was not enough. Deeper, that is what you wanted. You would need to find something bigger. You grow close but you can't quite take yourself over the edge. You reached down with your free hand and rubbed at your clit. Your essence coats the toy as you topple over and spill all over it. Your bones are tired and you pray that you can wake up on time in the morning. You drag yourself to the bathroom, clean yourself up, and know that when you finally crawl into bed, you will sleep through all of your alarms.

You spend the following few days getting to know your body. You eventually part with your old toy and get a new vibrator—you choose a wand. Toys are expensive; you had no idea till you went shopping for them. There were a ton of beautiful ones. You ordered a gorgeous pink glass one, for which you were really excited.

The sensation of having something tucked away deep inside you had grown on you, but you still craved more. You could never get over the fact that you were fucking a toy, no matter how lifelike it seemed. You were getting off to plastic when you had already had the real thing at your fingertips once. You were ready for more.

Swiping. You swiped all day long, but no one genuinely intriguing drew your attention. You came to the realization that Renjun was a true blessing. Just as you were about to give up, a promising-looking message appeared on your phone.

The most gorgeous lips you had ever seen were the first thing you noticed. You knew right away that you needed them all over your body; they looked so soft. Although his profile picture was basic, it did not matter because his face was the main attraction. He had very dear-like features and you noticed the moles that dotted his tan skin. Haechan was definitely someone you wanted to get to know.

“I think theres something wrong with my phone”

“???”

“Your number’s not in it”

"Cornball, your getting blocked.”

“Give me a chance!”

His face demanded that you at least give him a chance to speak, and you did. After talking to him for a minute longer, he was charming. You noticed his quick wit and that immediately drew you to him. He was different from Renjun. He was cocky but not in an arrogant way. He had confidence and thats exactly what you needed. You needed someone to talk you through it and teach you how they liked it and haechan seemed like the guy. You give him the same speech you gave Renjun, about you being inexperienced and looking for someone to learn from. Someone to study. You tell him what you want to improve on, and he texts back shortly after

“I’ll have you riding like a pro in no time, trust me”

You trusted him.

He was late and you were growing impatient. You were waiting patiently in your living room for a text from haechan. He was supposed to be coming over tonight; normally, you prefer going to them because you really dont like letting strangers know where you live but it turns out he went to the same university as you so that made you feel a tad bit better. You had dressed in something simple but effective: your favorite lace camI and matching silk shorts. You even took the time to prep yourself before he got there. On the bright side, if he didn't show up, you could finally try out the pink glass dildo that came in the mail a few days ago. A knock at the door shakes you from your thoughts.

Although you were just complaining, now that he's here, you start to get a bit nervous. This was the first time you would be having penetrative sex with anyone. You shuffle over to the door in your house shoes and look through your peep hole. Messy black hair was peeking out from under a hoodie as the figure in front of your door scrolled through their phone. You tentatively open your door, not taking the chain off until you can clearly see his face. He looks up at the sound of the door opening and sends you a grin.

“I don’t bite”

“Thats exactly what someone who bites would say”

“Then you would be right”

You shut the door and take the chain off the hook before opening it fully again and letting him in.

He eyes you up and down, drinking in your figure. You do the same and under the light of your living room, you see him in all his glory. You send a quick prayer up to the tinder gods for blessing you again. He was dressed in grey sweats with a black hoodie pulled over his head but boy was he handsome. You take a daring step forward and push the hoodie off his head before wrapping your arms around his neck. Long black bangs fall into his eyes and the way he pears down at you through them has your legs feeling weak already.

“You gonna be mine for tonight?” he asks sultry

“Just for tonight?” he licks his lips at that.

“Your right, gotta teach you how to fuck me.”

“That could take a while,” you tease.

“Use me for how ever long you need, I’m all yours,” he says

You pull him down, claiming his lips with yours. You pull his hoodie up and he pulls it the rest of the way off before his hands are creeping up your sides.

In all the ways Renjun poured over you, slow and thick, engulfing you whole like honey, Haechan was brisk and jagged, pulling you every which way rapidly like a river as he flowed through you.

You tried to use what Renjun taught you but that wasn't going to fly with Haechan. You had to learn to adapt to Haechan. He didn't like it slow; he liked to move at a quick pace. If you pull away, he is on you, chasing your lips for another taste. If you stumble back, he's gripping you tight and pulling you closer. Haechan had almost a desperate kind of love.

You’re finally able to peel off of him and catch your breath and he wastes no time in moving down your body to your neck, kissing and leaving marks for you to find in the morning. His hands slide down your back and grip your ass. He kneads your plush ass before pulling you closer, your front flush to his. He had backed you up into a wall at this point and you suddenly felt him nudge his leg between yours.

"Are you ready for your first lesson?” He says that as he moves one hand back to your hip, he uses his grip to pull you over his thigh. He grinds you down into the muscle and you shudder at the feeling. ”Just like that baby, that's it.”

You follow his lead and weakly grind your hips into his thick thighs. You could feel everything between the thin fabric of your silk shorts, the fabric dampening at the front and the cold press of the cloth against your clit makes you shiver.

“Like you mean it, come on,” he coos

You pout but grind down harder. You were looking for that praise that Renjun gave you so easily; Haechan was going to make you work for it.

“There we go bear, just like that, thats my girl,” he says, helping you along until you whine for more. You needed more; you loved his thighs but you brought him here to learn how to ride a dick.

"Ready for you to bite," you declare, rolling your hips with assurance.

He tilts his head with a scoff, tongue in cheek. "Suddenly, you can handle it?”

You reach out and pull him to your lips again to shut him up. He continues to grind you down until a patch of your wetness forms against his thigh, until your hips tire and your legs shake.

He can feel your movements grow weaker and he nudges your forehead with his when you drop your head.

“Not so tough are we baby? Gotta work on that stamina,” he grins devishly. you send him a fleeting glare. Oh, he was going to work you out. “fix your face; you asked for this, you wanna learn; you better listen”

You want to argue back but all you can do is slump against his thigh and throw your head back against the wall to catch your breath. Haechan pulls away from you and has to catch you before your legs give out from under you. He leads you over to your couch and sits down. legs spread wide, sitting you on his lap. You straddle his waist and your thighs cramp up.

You groan out and move off to spread your legs out over his thighs, sitting on the couch instead. He snickers at you but works the kink out of your thighs.

"Are you ready to listen now?” he asks and you nod shamfully. “It may look easy but it takes a lot of stamina to ride. You gotta pace yourself, baby.”

You nod and let out a yawn. He had already tired you out and you hadn't even started.

“Don't tap out on me yet; come on just a little more and I'll let you rest,” he urges you back on top of him after properly easing out the tension on your thighs. You reluctantly get back on top and relax into his hold. With a mischievous grin, he sits you squarely on top of his bulge.

“If you can hold out long enough to make me cum, next time I'll let you ride it,” he says, kissing your lips before leaning back against the couch, waiting for your next move. You whine and try to lean forward against his chest. You were tired and if you were going to do this, you needed a clutch but he could see right through you.

“Nu-uh, sit up; you got this.”

You send him a frown but you start to move your hips none the less. You find a rhythm and pace yourself like he instructed. His hands rest on your hips uselessly, making you do all the work. You brace one hand on his shoulder and the other on his knee as you roll your hips into his. He felt so good pressed up against your center. His eyes were hidden behind his bangs and the sight of him leaning up against the sofa, his head resting confidently on the back of the couch, while a lazy smile played at his lips was making you dizzy. You swivel your hips and his breath picks up. You think he's close with the way he grips your hips loosely now. He's biting his lip, urging you to ride faster and push past the pace you set for yourself. He bounces you in his lap shallowly as he fucks up into you.

He has to be so close. He has to be because your thighs are starting to feel that familiar but unfamiliar burn as you lose your momentum again.

“Don't stop, fuck,” he groans.

He was close; you could see it in the way his back arched off the couch slightly, his breath hitched and his eyebrows pinched, but he didn't finish because you collapsed before he could.

Your breathing is heavy. your heaving chest from exhaustion against his heaving chest from exasperation. You had just unknowingly edged him.

“I cant, please,” you cry.

He strokes your back soothingly “You did great today, baby. We have all the time in the world for you to get it right,” he reassures.

and you feel better because he was right

You didn't expect Haechan to take his job so seriously. He was committed to having you ride like a pro by the end of the month at the latest. He sent you exercises to help you build stamina and strength while on top. You did your own research as well and found some good stretches to try because you did not want to cramp up again. You did plenty of at-home exercises and you were feeling really good about your improvements.

You didn't expect the large package that arrived at your door one evening. You surely don't remember ordering anything and when you pull it inside and open the box, your pleasantly surprised. Inside the box sat a teddy bear. The box could barely contain the bear and when you struggled to pull it out, you understood why. The bear was at least 5 feet tall when you laid it out. Deep inside the bottom of the box lies a single card.

For practice <3

—sunny boy

You roll your eyes and dial “sunny boy.” The phone rings and then a voice answers. “Did you get your present?”

“You cant be serious; this thing must have cost a fortune! I appreciate the enthusiasm but you really dont have to do this”

“Friends help friends”

“Do you not get pussy or something?”

“Wierd way of saying thanks but your welcome. Besides, I promised you I’d have you riding in no time,” he says over the line, “FaceTime me; I need to judge your progress”

“Sure you do, pervert”

You send over the FaceTime request and soon you’re looking at the top half of Haechan's face in what you assume to be his bedroom? Aside from his forhead being lit by his phone's light, it was too dark for you to see anything.

“Let me see your pretty face,” you coo

He whines and shifts the camera down more. He was so pretty and you would never get tired of looking at his face. You wish he would stop hiding from you.

“Enough talking, let's see what you got” Straight forward as always. Oh, how you adore him.

"Ok, hold up” You put him in your pocket as you haul the giant teddy to your room and drag it up into your bed. You spend the next few minutes setting up your phone and getting the right angle. You were wearing boy shorts and a tank top, which was nearly identical to what you had on when you first met him.

You suddenly feel shy under the gaze of the camera. You had the front camera facing you so you could still see haechans face and you mounted the teddy and you imagined it was him there under you. You hold his gaze through the lens as you grind down into the toy firmly. You roll your hips sharply and suck in a breath. He watches you intently; you see him rustling about on the screen; you could only imagine what he was doing.

You never thought you could be the dominant type, but when you rode, something clicked, and you loved it. You loved being in control. It felt good to be in charge every once in a while. It was all about you when you were riding.

Your hands travel up the teddy until they wrap around the bear's neck. You held it down in place as you rode it, taking it slow, saving your energy like he taught you. There was no rush when you rode; you controlled the pace. You could hear Haechans muffled moans through the phone and it made your ride a little rougher. Your eyes glaze over as you picture your hands around his pretty neck. You wonder if he would make those pretty noises for you or if he would hide them. Your hips don't stop for a second and you whine at the lack of heat against your skin. Nothing was more satisfying than feeling Haechan's warm body against yours and inhaling his scent. The thought alone had you sticking to your shorts.

“Show me what your doing,” You dont know what overcame you; you could barely recognize the person who spoke those words, even though they came out of your mouth.

A delicious moan tumbles from his lips as he angles his camera down to show his hand working furiously over himself. He angles it so far down that his face is no longer visible, and you instantly miss the sight of his plump lips trapped between his teeth. “Let me see you, baby. All of you”

He tilts the camera back up and the dazed look he sends you has you clenching around nothing. The way his hips thrust into his palm pathetically has you curling over the stuffed animal as you fuck into it repeatedly. Haechan's head falls back as his mouth hangs open in heavy breaths. He finishes over himself with a shudder. You watch him, sitting up a little straighter and slowing down your hips as you catch your breath.

“How was that?” you ask with a smirk

“5 stars”

You were in a good mood, and nothing could stop the excited skip in your step as you walked. Even your friends took notice of your happy demeanor; they didn’t know what had gotten into you but they hoped it was dick. Well, Lele knew and honestly, you were surprised he hadn't gone mouthing off to the others.

You are out running errands with Yuna when you get a call from him. You pick up the call in the middle of the grocery store, following behind Yuna and her buggy.

“Are you ready to hear the best news of your life?” he starts when you answer

You put him on speaker, nudging Yuna to pay attention. She raises a brow, asking who it is without saying a word. "Lele,” you mouth.

“I'm scared,” you finally reply to him. You were in the pet supplies aisle and luckily no one was around. You never knew what could come out of this man's mouth.

“I got you a date with that cute cashier; turns out he's Jisung’s cousin!”

Yuna sends you a shocked look. She grabs the phone from you excitedly “are you talking about the guy who checked us out last week at that thrift store?” she gushes

You and a couple of your friends went thrifting last week, and when it came time to pay, the cutest guy was there to cash you out. You remember looking at his name tag and remembering his name was Mark. Your friends swore he was checking you out, but you ignored them all. The poor guy was probably just trying to do his job, so you left without asking for his phone number.

“Yuna? Are you guys out right now? No invite, wow,” you hear him pouting on the other line

“You want to help Yuna put up twenty bags of groceries? Be my guest,” you complain.

Yuna hated going shopping alone, and choosing who to drag out shopping with her next was like playing Russian roulette.

“Dont change the subject!”

“What? but you did—”

“I gave mark your number and he said he was going to text you so be on the look out!”

You want to be happy. Mark was really cute and he looked so sweet but you still had a hard time connecting with people like that. Before you could answer, Yuna beat you too it.

“Dont worry, I'll be on the look out”

Chenle says something about being late and that he would call later for updates before ending the call. Just when you were giving him props, you should have known he was up to something.

"So, mark huh?” Yuna coos

“I dont know, Yuna, its been awhile since Ive been on a date; i’m really not looking for a relationship right now,” you groan. Your head was spinning with the news. You had a thousand things going through your mind. More stress was not what you needed. You definitely didn't have any time for anyone right now with your studies (not the academic kind) going on.

“Oh please, this iexactlyly what you need! Who said anything about a relationship? Why not just have some fun?”

Funny, it was like those words that started all of this.

You and Mark have been texting on and off for a few days now. He was one of the most down-to-earth people you had ever met, and you had even visited him at work, feigning looking for some scrap fabric for a project for class. You guys had gone on that date that he promised and ever since then, you have grown close with Mark. You wanted to grow closer to him so close that his body was on top of yours.

You weren't ready yet, though; you still had a few things you wanted to learn. You did end up going on a few more dates with him and one night after a few drinks, things got a little handsy. Nothing explicit happened and ultimately you told him you weren't looking for anything serious at the time. He took it surprisingly well and you two have been chill since. He has broached the topic of friends with benefits with you and you had told him you would be down but you haven't brought it up since. You need more time. When you finally have Mark, you want to give him everything and more. You need everything to be perfect.

You would not mess this up, not again.

Haechan was coming over and you were excited that you could finally take him for a test run. You would think you were training for a marathon rather than sex the way he was training you. Unlike last time, he got there perfectly on time. You had made sure to stretch before hand and when he walked through your door, you could barely get a “hi” in before he was picking you up and wrapping your legs around him.

“I've been waiting for you,” he mumbles, his lips pressed against yours. He kicks your door closed and pins you up against it.

“Let me make it worth your while then,” you call back and wrap your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair.

Haechan's kisses make you feel like you were drowning; he stole your breath like water replaces air in your lungs. It was like how waves rocked you peacefully in their embrace until you realized you needed to come up for air. You never wanted to come up for air.

Soon you were on your back, spread out in your bed with him on top of you. His hands were everywhere and he finally took pity on you and pulled away, letting fresh air fill your burning lungs. His kisses move to your neck as skilled hands undress you. You were getting lost in his touch and when you felt your mind slip into that place you sometimes went, that submissive headspace, you knew you had to snap out of it. Tonight was supposed to be your rodeo, not his. You were almost completely naked, save for your panties and he was still fully clothed. You raise yourself onto your elbows, watching him as he kisses you down your body. He kisses your navel before peeking up at you. You grab hold of his hair, pulling him back up to reconnect your lips. You use your lips to distract him before you push him down and flip your positions.

You straddle his waist and brace yourself on his chest. You smile in victory but all Haechan does is adjust the pillow behind his head before resting his hands beneath it. That stubborn smirk—let's see how long it takes you to whip that grin off his face.

“Im ready when you are sweetheart”

The first roll off your hips speaks for itself. Slow and firm. You wanted to make him feel it. You can feel him pressing heavily through the fabric of his sweats and you can feel yourself clenching at the thought of him filling you up later. You grind your clothed pussy against him, gripping his shirt in your fist as you work your hips over top of him. The smirk falters a bit as he huffs out a breathy sigh. He's good at taking what you give him; he just lies there and lets you use him, just like you used the stuffed animal he gave you.

“How am I doing so far?”

“So good,” he says off-handedly, more focused on the way your hips move. You smiled; it was time to give him more.

You slid off of him and he groans at the loss of heat. You help him out of his clothes and he lies before you naked. Your eyes examine his body and you moan at the sight of him. His dick was almost as pretty as his face. You had enough waiting; you wanted him inside. You mount his hips again and line him up with your entrance, coating the tip in your slick.

“Keep your hands right there; I don't need your help.” You instruct him to keep his hands gripped in the sheets. You wanted to show him you could ride it all by yourself.

“Fuck me,” he moans impatiently, his hips pushing up slightly, trying to slip through your folds.

"Are you sure there are no other tips you want to give me?” you tease

“I'm trying to give you mine if you would sit down,” he groans.

You grab the base of his length and sink down on top of him. You were so wet, he slipped in easily. You were flush against him—hips against hips. You had to take a few moments to collect your thoughts. He felt so good inside of you. You had never felt so full before; no toy could ever match the feeling of having Haechan stuffed inside of you. You were going to use him until he broke. You steady yourself over his chest again and lift your hips slowly, savoring the drag of him against your walls. You look into his eyes and his brows furrow at the feeling. You drop back down on him harshly. Your thighs tingled in the pleasure but they didn't burn; the exercises had paid off. You set a brutal pace on top of him as you use him. You had practically forgotten he was even there for a second until his loud moans filled the room. You had grabbed a hold of his cheeks, pushing his face into the pillow. You felt an upkick at your hips and you looked down to see his hips thrusting up into yours. You caught his rhythm and matched his pace, giving him everything he gave you in return. You let up on him and gave him space to breathe. His hands are at your waist the next moment and he's gripping tight, helping you fuck onto him.

“Don't stop, please. Let me do this; I need it,” he begs before his feet are planted on the bed and he's using all his force to pound into you from below. Your mouth drops open and you have to brace yourself on his chest again so you don't fall off. Your hands slip up a little farther and they encompass his neck beautifully. He lay under you, moans tumbling out of his mouth, his hair messy on his forehead, his tan skin damp with sweat and when your hands grip his neck, you think the image it creates against him should be a painting.

Your eyes daze and your mind slips but this time you don't go to that place that makes you want to give everything up to your last breath. This place is different. This place makes you feel bold and makes you want to take and take until Haechan trembles. This place makes you feel powerful.

“Fu-fuck baby, please,” he gasps, his eyes rolling to the back of his head breathlessly “Give it to me; fucking use me. Hurt me,” he whimpers the last part. You completely snapped. You don't know who you are; you don't know what this headspace is but it craves the tears that fall down Haechan's face pathetically.

“Hold still,” you say, pushing at his knees and motioning for him to lay back down flat. You wanted complete control. Your grip tightens and your hips roll sharply over his. So deep, everything feels so much; you feel everything at once and you’re certain your soaking Haechan’s lap. Only now do your thighs burn but now the ache adds to the pleasure. Your so focused on your own pleasure that your grip loosens and as the air rushes back into Haechan's lungs, he feels a high like no other and his orgasm crashes into him. His thighs shake and he orgasms deep inside of you. After a few more harsh flicks of your hips, you cum hard, sending a shiver down your spine.

You had previously discussed it because he would be the first person you would have inside of you. You had already been on birth control for some time and you had both been checked. You wanted to stay protected. Your not sure if he took your virginity or if you took his with how dazed he looked under you.

"Look who couldn't handle it” you brag smugly.

“Of course, your amazing. I taught you.”

“So you like being used? You smile, lying down next to him to catch your breath “intersting”

“Don't push your luck; I'll still fuck you better. Make you forget your name.” you core clenches at the thought and you remind yourself to take him up on that eventually

You pack your things, signaling the end of your English lecture. You exit the class with a yawn, having almost fallen asleep during the last half of the class. your walking across campus when you hear a voice call your name. You see Mark a few yards behind you. It turns out Mark also attended your college but only part time so you rarely saw him on campus. You return his smile and you are about to walk over to him when you see another figure moving towards you.

Renjun? you hadnt seen him in awhile; you had been keeping it casual with him. He goes here too?? Just when you think it can't get any worse, Haechan rounds a corner and spots you too. You had ghosted him after the last time you two hooked up. you did not want to confront him right now.

There is absolutely no way you just ran into all your hoes at the same time.

You turn around and flee the scene before anyone can approach you further. You’re speed-walking in the opposite direction now when you run into Chenle and Yuna. “Ask questions later for now, run!” you say, pulling them along.

You don't stop dragging them until you make it to your car. Safe and sound inside, you lock the door and catch your breath. “What the hell was that about you? You looked like you saw a ghost” Chenle tries to calm his breathing, adjusting his signiture shades back into place.

“Was it Mark? I thought I saw him over there. Did something happen between you two?” Yuna asks, letting the passenger seat fall back to lay down and settle her own breaths.

You wish there was something going on between you and Mark, but nothing has happened since the last time you saw him.

“No, not mark, it was something else…or someones else”

“someones?” she questions

You hated keeping things from your friends; you hadn't meant to keep it from them for this long but you had gotten so caught up in everything that you barely had the time to catch them up to speed. You explain everything. From Renjun to Haechan and to the new guy you recently found, Jaemin. You had moved study subjects already and you felt a little bad for ghosting Haechan like you did after all the effort he put into teaching you but with Mark as your end goal, you were really impatient to get to him.

The car is silent for a few moments, mainly from Yuna’s shock, before she finally decides to speak up. “How in the world did you go from being scared of the thought of dick to getting more dick than me?”

“That's what your worried about!”

“If you don’t want them, give them to me”

“YUNA!”

“Joking! I’m joking”

You feel a weight lifted from your shoulders now that you were able to tell Yuna how your life has really been going and what you’ve really been doing. Honeslty, you were getting really sick of replying with “nothing” anytime anyone would ask.

“Wait, why aren't you surprised” Yuna asks Chenle suspiciously.

oh my—

“You did not tell him before me!” Yuna narrows her eyes at you.

“She definitely did,” Chenle smiles.

“You traitor!”

“You know how he is! He practically threatened my family,” you say in defense.

You had no tint on your windows so to any onlookers, it probably looked like you guys were having a really heated argument. Everyone was talking at once and fingers were being pointed. The three of you continue to bicker until you hear a knock at your window and the car goes silent as everyone turns to look out the window.

Mark is standing outside your car nervously. “Is everything okay?” His muffled voice barely carries into the car. You roll your window down with a forced smile. This was perfect.

“How can I help you, officer?” You joke.

“I’m sorry, you just ran off earlier and I just wanted to, like, make sure you were ok.” he says, scratching at his face nervously.

“We’ll let you two talk,” Yuna says with a fake smile. Her and Chenle exit the car but not before she sends you a glare that says this isn't over.

After they left, you offered Mark a seat in your car. “Im sorry, I didn't like... interrupt. Did I?” he says awkwardly.

“Oh no, your fine. I’m sorry for earlier; I just realized I had forgotten something in my car. I needed it for my next class” You lie.

“Okay, thats good to hear. I thought you were like avoiding me for a second,” he laughs. “Your really cool and I don’t want what I said about being friends with benefits to ruin our relationship. We dont have to do anything if it makes you uncomfortable ”

“That's not it at all! I really like you, mark I've just been a little...busy lately. I like the idea of being friends with benefits. Just give me some more time. I can’t really explain now,” you say.

Out of all the conversations you wanted to avoid, this was definitely the one you wanted to avoid the most. You had no idea how to navigate this conversation. You wanted Mark so badly that it was driving you crazy but you just needed time. You were so close to the finish line that you couldn’t give up now.

“That’s cool, I get it.” He gives you a nod of understanding and he gets ready to leave, moving to open the door with a quick bye, probably needing to get to his next class. You wanted to leave him with something. You had to do something to hold you both over so you didn’t stop the next words that came out of your mouth.

“Before you go, can I have a kiss?” you ask sweetly. Mark just smiles at you and shakes his head fondly before leaning in and sealing your lips with his.

THE HANDJOB

It was probably a little too late in the game for you to be trying this but somehow your quick pecks turned into heavy petting. Now you had Mark’s dick in your hands. Mark was kissing hotly into your nouth as you stroked him slowly. You twist your hand at the base of his cock, focusing most of your attention there. After a few moments, you feel Mark’s hips shift and buck into your grasp. His hand joins yours and guides your hand higher.

“Don't tease. Please, I need you,” he breathes into your mouth.

When you sucked dick, your hand typically pumped the base. You would concentrate your attention on the areas that your mouth couldn’t reach. Without your mouth focused on the tip, you would have to make up for the lack of contact. You appreciate the information; every moment is a learning opportunity for you. Even now, you were able to gather data for your research.

You follow his lead and stroke the length of his length, twisting your wrist when you get to his tip. Mark's head falls back and rests against the headrest of the car. You pray no one's eyes wander to your small sedan because, from the faces Mark was pulling, they would no doubt know what was going on.

Mark's face scrunches up in pleasure and after a few more firm strokes over his cock, he cums. His seed pours messily over your fist. By the end of it, your arm was a little tired but it was definitely worth it.

He gives you a shy smile and apologizes. You reach over with your clean hand and get some napkins from your glove compartment. You assure him one last time that you definitely want to be more than just friends with him and that you will let him know when you’re ready. He left the car with a smile and your glad to have taken care of that because you were late to go meet Jaemin. There was still more you wanted to learn. There were more things you needed to experiment with.

SIZE

You had actually met Jaemin at a cafe. He sat at the table in front of you, glasses pushed up on his nose as he typed away at his computer. His white hair made him stand out and gave him a soft, rabbit-like appearance but there was something about his face that made him look devastly charming and boyish but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. He quickly stops typing and you notice that he is staring back at you. He sends you a smile and you return it awkwardly.

Fumbling the bag—I repeat, you are FUMBLING the bag.

You try your best to avoid his gaze again until you finish your own classwork and collect your things. Your leaving the cafe when you notice him in your peripheral vision, trying to get your attention. You thought he was going to tell you off for staring like some creep but he handed you his number instead. Fast forward; now you have a dick appointment.

After some talking and explaining, you give him your usual spiel. You were supposed to meet up with him today right after class but a few setbacks made you late. You finally arrive at the location he had specified, and you are immediately perplexed.

This was Renjun's apartment.

You walk up the familiar steps and hesitantly knock on the door. Your so used to Renjun opening the door that when Jaemin opens it, your slightly taken aback. What the hell was going on?

“Hey, come on in,” he says as you stand there stiff as a board. You shake yourself out of it and step through the door.

“I'm sorry I was late. Something came up,” you apologize.

“Its fine, my roomates are going to be out for the night so we have the house to ourselves for awhile,” he smiles at you. Just looking at that dazzling smile makes you forget about your internal dilemma.

You would worry about that later; tonight it was just you and this handsome stranger you met.

He leads you to his bedroom and you can't help but notice his room is directly across from Renjuns. You would definitely need a list of his roommates because you refused to find yourself in this situation again. The thought slips from your mind as Jaemin pulls you into his room and shuts the door.

“Are you okay, angel? You look a little shaken up?” he asks attentively.

"No, its ok, im just stressed about classes. I’m hoping you could help me relax?” you lie smoothly.

He gives you a sly smile and you hold your breath as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “You wont be able to think straight when I’m done with you”

You suck in a breath and your body completely opens up to him as his hands tentatively trail up your waist. He strokes your sides teasingly as he kisses the sides of your mouth before trailing his lips down your neck. His touch was light and soft, like you were a porcelain doll. You try to reach up and hold on to him but he just pulls away slightly and shakes his head.

"Nu-uh, baby hands to yourself until I say otherwise,” he corrects you.

You pout and open your mouth to protest but he grabs your face and holds you in his grasp. “Big girls don’t talk back. Fix your face,” he commands

You swallow nervously and nod your head. He kisses your lips once “Thats my girl”

He took his time mapping out your body with his hands. He was in no rush at all and you had to bite your tongue to hold back your whines. His hands gripped your ass, squeezed your hips, traced your spine and palmed your chest. He examined you with the same curiosity that a child does with a new toy or a scientist does with a new test subject. The tables had been turned. You weren't the one with the magnifying glass now; he was.

He helped you out of your clothes and you stood in front of him in only your underwear. He turns you away from him before pulling you back against him, your back to his chest. He hooks his chin over your shoulder and you can feel him bulging against his sweatpants. He was huge and the smirk you felt against your neck told you he knew how to use it. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought and when his hands return to your skin, you let out a moan. His hands spread out over your stomach; they were cold to the touch. You arch against him, pushing your hips backwards into his. He sucks in a breath and grips your hips. He holds them firmly before he pushes his clothed length into your ass, grinding against you from behind with a groan. You feel your panties soak up the feeling. You weren't sure if you could take something that big but you would sure put up a fight trying.

One hand travels down over your panties stroking you through the fabric. He coos at you as he feels how wet you are. He pats against the seat of your panites and sure enough, you’re wet enough that your panties make a soft, wet noise upon contact.

“Is that for me, angel? "Are gonna drip down my cock when I split you open?” he asks with a lazy smile. The things that came out of his mouth never matched the look on his face. He would say the most toe-curling thing so casually with a smile that you would think he was telling you about the weather. Your chest is heaving at this point. You had never played like this before. Was this what he meant when he said he was a dom?

“Answer me when I'm talking to you, baby. You wanna be my good girl, right?” You whine and nod pathetically. You would do anything for his praise. “Then speak up”

“Its all yours,” you say breathlessly, hoping that's what he wanted to hear.

He dips his hand past the waistband of your panties and circles your clit while his other hand holds firmly onto your hips. You throw your head back against his shoulder. He strokes over your slit teasingly before slipping two fingers inside, one after another. Your hips immediately buck up against his palm, or at least they try to but he has you pinned effectively against his hips.

“Dont fucking move; dont fucking make a sound. Just take it,” he rummbles in your ear “Take it”

His knuckles-deep and all you can do is bend yourself forward, trying to escape his grasp but he follows and fucks into you faster. You cry out, your thighs shaking as he curls an arm under your shoulder, using his leverage to pull you back against his firm chest. “Come on baby, if you can’t handle this, you won’t be able to take me,” he says sweetly.

He hooked his fingers cruelly and you collapsed against him, orgasm whracking through your body. He held your trembling form up like it was nothing. He picks you up and throws you on the bed. You were still in shock as you lay there, catching your breath, your legs still shivering. He held your eye contact form where he stood at the foot of the bed and grabbed the back of his shirt before pulling it over his head swiftly. As he stood in front of you, you saw him for what he really was: he was no rabbit, he was a demon, and you were a fool. He didn't treat you like a porcelain doll; that was just the calm before the storm.

He puts one knee on the bed, starting off towards you and you subconsciously scoot backwards. He sends you that devilish smile and grabs your ankle, pulling you back down the bed until your thighs bracket his hips.

“Where you running to, angel?” he says

You try to close your legs around him; the press of his hips against yours is already to much.

“Open your legs,” he says patiently. You shake your head defiantly, even though the command makes you even wetter.

He runs a hand through his hair and breathes an exhausted sigh. He pries your legs open, pinning them down as he leans forward over you. He uses a hand to grip your face and pushes his hips deep into yours, pinning them down from squirming. “I don’t like playing with brats so your either going to listen the first time I tell you to do something or I’m going to have to break you in,” he warns.

Your heart was beating out of your chest at his words. This was definitely not the same guy with the nerdy glasses you met in a cafe.

You nod your head in understanding.

“Use your big girl words,” he says with a peck of your lips.

“Yes sir,” you say. A pleased smile dances on his lips.

“You learn fast,” he praises. That you do.

He captures your lips in the first real kiss of the night and you moan into his mouth as his tongue snakes its way past your lips. You roll your hips up into his and he allows it as he shoves his tongue down your throat. The kiss was messy and lazy. You pull back to plead, “Please, I need to touch you. Please let me touch you”

He waits a moment, like hes thinking about it but he nods and pulls you back into another heated kiss. Being with Jaemin was extremely intimate; he worshiped your body as if it were his only purpose in life. His kisses were dangerous and claiming. He marked your body like you belonged to him and tonight you did.

You rake your hands down his spine, nails digging into his skin as your back arches against him. It was too much yet not enough at the same time. “I need you,” you beg.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve been good for you.”

“Thats right, baby, you have been really good,” he nuzzles at your neck affectialanty “but I need you to be sure”

“Im positive, I want you”

Jaemin kisses you assuringly and pulls down the sweatpants that still clung to his hips. He must not have been wearing any underwear because the heavy sound of his length slapping against his abdomen fills the room.

Your eyes trail down his body until they reach the sight in between his legs. You take in the leaking tip of his pretty pink cock and the veins that adorn the sides. That thing was supposed to fit inside you. Never in a million years would you have imagined that death by dick could be an option in your life.

“Don't worry baby, we’ll make it fit,” he says. He grips the base of his cock and strokes it a few times before lining it up over the top of your belly. It nudged over your navel tauntingly. "I'm going to fill you up until I get here." he says, tapping the length of his cock on your stomach.

No amount of study could have prepared you for this. You came up completely blank on the idea of how this would even possibly fit. He notices the nervous look on your face and kisses your forehead. “Relax, I got you.”

The tension in your shoulders relaxes a little at the comment. Jaemin seemed like he knew what he was doing. You trusted him enough.

He gives you a moment to collect your thoughts as he pulls away from you, going to retrieve a condom from his bedside table. You take the moment to steady your beating heart and prepare yourself. When he comes back to you, he has a bottle of lube and a condom already wrapped around his cock.

“Are you ready?” he asks finally

"Yes,” you breath nervously.

He uncaps the lube and takes your hand, pouring some in your palm and then some over his length. He guides your hand to his length and you stroke the cold substance over him. You coat him in the lube and your grateful for the quick lesson you had with Mark earlier. You know just how to twist your wrist to get a reaction out of him. He groans softly and lets you have your fun before he pulls your hand away. He lines his cockhead up to your entrance and traces through your folds, nudging at your clit in the process. You moan impatiently. He sends you a frigid look through the fringe of his white bangs, instantly putting you in your place.

You pout but wait patiently as he eases his tip through your folds. Ok, this was fine. This was good. He fucks you with his tip pulling out before pushing his way back in. He fists his cock, coating it in the slick that drips from your cunt. You relax under his ministrations, completely letting him take the lead as he works you up with just the head of his dick. You can tell he must be holding back and you appreciate it.

He continues like this for a while before slyly slipping more and more inside of you each time. You’re at the two-thirds mark before you notice the stretch. You face pinching up in pain and your hands immediately find purchase on his hips, a plea for mercy. Jaemin stills inside of you and takes your hands into his own. His touch was delicate and he brought your hands to his lips. He kisses your fingertips before he kisses your palm. He was giving you whiplash with how gentle yet rough he could be sometimes. He kisses down your arm and up your shoulder. He presses kisses into your neck and over your lips. When he finally pulls away,looking down at you with a smile, you realize that somewhere between his barrage of kisses, he slipped the rest of the way inside.

“Look at you, wasn’t that easy”

You just stare back up at him in shock. That was not as bad as you thought it would be; you could still feel a slight lingering discomfort from the stretch but that was soon melting away.

He kisses the confused wrinkle in your brow “just relax baby. Now that the hard part is over, leave the rest up to me”

He pulls his hips back and works them forward experimentally. You shift at the stretch but you handle it well. He massages your thighs as he thrusts into you at a lazy pace, taking it easy and giving you enough time to fully accommodate his length. He hit so deeply inside that you could hardly catch a breath. Your body was hyperaware of every drag against your core and every nuge against your cervix and it craved more. You wrap your legs tight around his waist as you urge him to give you more.

Jaemin ignores your pleas and continues the rythme that he has created so far. You roll your hips, impatiently clawing down his chest in retaliation.

“I'm trying to stay nice angel. Take what I give you” What he was giving you wasnt enough and if he thought you were dumb enough to not notice him holding himself back, he was wrong.

“Don’t fuck me like that”

“Careful angel”

“I can handle it”

"Behave,” he says, gripping your face. He pulls out until only his tip remains and thrusts back in harshly. You scream in pleasure at the snap of his hips. That was what you were looking for; you needed to be broken in. If you wanted to get what you wanted, you needed to disobey.

“Fuck you,” you spit

“Watch your mouth,” one final warning.

“Fuck.You,” you say slowly, making sure he hears every syllable.

Something takes over him. You can see it through the dark gaze in his eyes. Rough hands pull you halfway off the bed, suspended hips held tight in his grasp as he pounds into you. You can’t even scream; your voice is caught in your throat as he uses the grip he has on your hips to slam you onto his cock. Each brutal thrust of his hips sounds off with a harsh clap of skin. Your back arches dangerously off the bed and you almost slip the rest of the way off if it weren't for one of his hands pushing down on your sternum, pinning you to the bed.

“Is this what you want? You wanted it so fucking bad.”

He pulls out and your body compulses at the lack of contact. Your being manhandled off the bed, legs almost giving out from under you but Jaemin swiftly turns you, bending you over before pushing you flat on your stomach. He kicks your legs open further, opening you up for him before he finds your entrance again. You are grateful for this position because when the tears fall from your eyes and your saliva soaks his sheets, you dont have to worry about him seeing how pathetic you look. You hide your face in the sheets, crying out in pleasure. Your body cant keep up and overstimulation kicks in. You’re vibrating, literally, as you tremble in your spot under him.

His body leans over your back and you feel the heat of his body press into you as he continues to pound you into the mattress. His hand slips under you and circles your clit gently, knowing its already too much for you and just wanting to add a little extra to take you over the edge. You can't help the scream that bubbles out of your throat as you cum hard. Everything is black for a little bit and when you finally come to, all you can feel is your own wetness and release sticking to your thighs. Your empty and when you turn to look over your shoulder, Jaemin is stroking over your ass and soon that too is covered in cum.

You could hardly hold your head up anymore as it fell back down limply on the bed. You feel a rag clean you up but you refuse to open your eyes. You hear the sounds of a bath being run, and the next thing you know, your sitting in Jaemin's lap in the tub as he cleans the two of you. Your head laying lazily on his shoulder as he soaped you up and wiped you down. You know he lays you down in his sheets and when your head hits the pillow, you fall asleep.

When you wake up, the sun shines in your eyes as you roll on your side groggily. Your body was sore all over and you felt like you had died and come back to life. Maybe you should have stretched before testing Jaemin's patience. Speaking of which, you notice the oversized shirt adorning your body as you shift to get out of bed. You look around and notice your clothes have been neatly folded on his dresser. You stand and it takes every fiber in your body not to wince every time you take a step. You can still feel his phantom touch as the events of the night before replay in your mind. It was so worth it. You finally make it over to your clothes and notice the note sitting on top of them.

Had to leave for class. Grab breakfast on the way out ;)

One word kept replaying in your head. out. Somehow, you had to navigate your way out of this godforsaken wolves den without running into Renjun or any of his other roomates. You hoped and hoped that they didn’t make it back yet or that they had some class to go to, but when you hold your breath and press your ear up against the door, you can hear a few muffled voices. You could make out the voices of two people; one was Renjun for sure and the other was familiar but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

You were so fucked

You contemplate scaling the window but after looking at the 3-story drop, you decide against it. You try to wait it out, gambling on them just going back to their rooms but it sounds like they started up a videogame in the living room. Your pacing Jaemin’s room, completely forgetting about the ache between your legs. Your about to finally pull Jaemin’s shirt from over your head and put your own clothes back on when you have an idea. You pull open his closet and snag one of his hoodies off of a hanger. You find a pair of matching sweats in one of his drawers and tug those on as well. They didn't fit your frame well but that worked in your favor, with the baggy fabric helping to hide your shape. You pull up the hood and grab your things. If you move fast enough, they shouldn't be able to recognize you; they would no doubt see you, but at least they would just lump you in with any other random girl Jaemin brought home.

1…2…3

You pull open the door and peek your head out into the hall. The coast was clear; you held on tight to the sweatpants slowly falling off your hips and booked it to the front door. You pass the kitchen on your way out and your stomach almost growls at the food Jaemin had left out for you. You have half the mind to swoop in and snatch it but you keep trucking. You pass the living room in a heart beat. You quickly unlock the door, letting yourself out. The last thing you heard before the door closed behind you was, “What the fuck was that? Did you just see that?”

STAMINA

Maybe this was your karma. You had evaded Mark for another week and Chenle wouldn’t let you hear the end of how much Mark had looked like a “kicked puppy.”. You liked Mark, and you really did want to get closer to him in more ways than one, but that was why you had to do this. The last guy you really liked up and left you because you didn’t know how to suck dick... and threw up on him, but thats besides the point. The point is that you didn't want to lose Mark; you were scared to lose Mark, even over something as trivial as this. So you went back on the hunt.

The tinder gods were not looking down on you anymore because every match that came back just didn't make the cut. There were so many weirdos on the app that you were surprised you even got as far as you did. You would have to do the search by foot.

You would scout the courtyards and hallways in between classes, hoping to find your next target, but it was difficult to find what you were looking for. You were searching for stamina, not something that could be seen with the naked eye. Haechan's training helped you a lot, but you were looking for the kind of stamina that would carry you through multiple rounds. You needed someone to practice cum control with.

It was hot outside, and you were exhausted. You were almost late for your last class when someone ran into you. "Sorry, excuse me," the girl replied before scurrying away again.

"Wait!” you call out to her. She had dropped something—a keychain—from her gym bag. “You dropped this,” you say. She turns around and jogs back over.

She quickly thanks you for the keychain and says, "Sorry, I’m in a hurry. I didn’t mean to bump into you. I’m late for track." She then jogs over to the track and field facility. Your about to brush off the interaction when an idea suddenly comes to your head.

Who has more stamina than a long-distance track star?

You find a seat in the stands and observe the combined practices of the men's and women's track teams. You watched as they stretched and did warm ups and you finally found him. In his track suit, he was tall and slender. Although his waist was delicate, it only accentuated his broad shoulders and well-defined biceps. His short, dark hair was cropped close and clung to his forehead from perspiration.

"Jeno, You’re up on the 200-yard dash," yells one of the coaches. and all of a sudden, your mystery man is making his way to the starting blocks. So his name was Jeno.

You head down the stands, happy with your findings, when you hear someone talking about a party that will take place after today's track meet. You didn't know how but you would find a way to that party. Luckily for you, you knew someone who happened to know just about everyone.

“Please Jisung, I need to get into that party!” you beg your friend.

“Then go by yourself,” your friend huffs in annoyance.

You have been friends with Jisung for awhile now. Jisung just had the type of personality that allowed him to fit into any friend group. Everyone adored him. You had to be a nobody if you didn't know Park Jisung. Even though his reputation precedes him, he's actually really laid-back and easy to talk to.

“I don’t know anyone there!” you whine from your seat perched up on his desk in his dorm room.

“Then why do you even want to go” Chenle interjects from his spot on his bed as he scrolls through his phone, playing videos out loud obnoxiously like an old man.

“Its for science,” you state.

“Funny, because thats what im trying to study for,” jisung says sarcastically, “I need to finish my assignments. I dont have time to go out”

A beat of silence passes while you contemplate your next bargaining chip. “I'll do it for you”

Jisungs head snaps up from his textbook “Uh?”

“Come on, I’m like a genius. I’ll finish it for you if you come with me tonight,” you bargain

“This science you speak of doesn't have anything to do with your little outings, does it” Chenle says. He didn't have to specify which outings for you to get it.

“What outings?” Jisung peeks over at his roommate.

“Deal or no deal?” You hurry and try to change the subject; you didn't need poor Jisung to find out you were fucking around to eventually fuck his cousin. Everything leading up to that would probably just end up confusing him.

Pushing back from his desk and letting you take over, he said, "Knock yourself out." You knew those years of drowning your self in your studies to get over heart break would not be in vain

You arrive at a house a little ways off campus. The party was already raging and you were a little upset that you didn’t come to get absolutely wasted. Jisung parked his car on an off-street and walked beside you as you approached the house.

“I might disappear for a little bit tonight but don’t leave without me,” you advise him.

He bemoans, "Make sure you keep your ringer on; you never answer." He hated it when people split up from him at parties, but he was prepared. Chenle told him that you were trying to meet someone tonight.

Once inside, you waste no time in finding the kitchen. You weren't planning on getting wasted, but you at least needed a little liquid courage if you were going to talk to the Greek god you saw earlier. You and Jisung knock a few shots back until you start to feel the buzz. You stick to his side as he introduces you to a few of his friends, and you engage in small talk until you finally see Jeno walk through the front door.

Jeno had finally shown up and he looked even more delectable outside of his track uniform. He was wearing an open flannel over a dark shirt, adorned with a silver necklace. He wore some light-washed jeans that had a few rips and holes in them. He was like he jumped straight out of a boyfriend pin board. You felt a little creepy watching him over the rim of your red solo cup. You finish off your drink and part ways with your small group. Hes walking into the kitchen and you follow behind him.

“Hey, your Jeno, right?” you call out to him. He looks up from the drink he's pouring and sends you a friendly smile. You don’t miss the way his eyes look you up and down.

“Whats up?” he replies, taking a swig from the mixture he poured.

“I watched your track practice today; did you run the 200? Your really good,” you say honestly

“Thank you; do you run too?” he asks, keeping the conversation flowing.

Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was your impatience but you can’t find it in you to care about easing your way into the question. “I don’t actually, but i’m actually doing a study on endurance and stamina I was hoping you could help me with that”

“Oh yea? What class is the project for?”

“No class, just my own personal studies”

“On endurance and stamina?”

“Yes”

It takes a moment for the gears in his head to start spinning

“Oh…oh!”

"I can give you my number; just text me if you’re interested," you say, pulling out a piece of paper with your phone number on it. You had written it down earlier, knowing that a pen would be impossible to find at a college party.

He takes it from you and stares you down for a moment, his heavily lidded eyes raking over your frame again. "I'll let you know." You don't need to look to know that he's staring at your ass when you turn to walk away.

He texts you before the night is even over but you don't respond until the morning. You let him know the exact details of the “stamina training” you had in mind and he agreed to your terms and conditions. You plan to hook up the following day; this was the last thing you needed to perfect, and you were excited. That day had come in no time and now you were fresh out of the shower, waiting for the fateful knock on your door.

You had no time to prepare for this session, and you honestly didn’t know how to. How does one develop a resistance to pleasure, and how does one avoid the one thing you seek when satisfying oneself? Hopefully Jeno had the answers, and if he didn't, hopefully he helped you find them.

Your fixing your hair and making sure everything is laid neatly when you hear a faint knock on your door. You look at yourself one last time in the mirror before going to open your front door. Jeno stands infront of your door with a small smile and you let him in. At this point, you were used to the awkward small talk and embarrassing attempts at flirting. You wasted no time in pulling him towards you. His hands instantly find your waist. You’re so close, you notice the cute mole he has under his eye. He stares back at you, his eyes round like puppy dogs. You pull him back into a slow kiss. Today there was no rush; it was all about resistance.

Once you get your fill of his lips, you pull away again and lead him to your bedroom. You kick your door closed and pull him down on top of you on your bed. “No matter how much I beg, dont let me cum,” you warn him

“Who says I was going to let you cum?” he teases back before he meets your lips again.

You smiled into the kiss; you were going to like this one. You wondered what type of role he would play when darkness wrapped around you both in its cool, sensual embrace. Would he let you take control like you did with Haechan? Would he be as strict as Jaemin, keeping you in your place or would he be laid back like Renjun? Guiding you and willing to relent some of the control to you if you ask. His firm body pins you down under him, and he kisses you hotly before ghosting his lips down your neck teasingly. His hands snake their way up your shirt and he explores the skin exposed there before pushing it up and over your chest. He lays sweet kisses over the top of your breast, not yet ready to part with the image of you wrapped in the lace that was your bra. Your impatient so you sit up on your elbows to help him get you out of your shirt. You pull your shirt over your head, and you scoot a little out of his embrace to pull down your shorts. Jeno takes the hint and strips himself bare, except for his briefs. When your done, he pulls you back under him and gets you settled again. You can feel him pressing hot against your skin. You had barely just met him, but something about the way Jeno kissed you and touched you—the way he paid attention to your body—was so intimate. The little sounds you would make when he nips at your skin. The way you bite your lips when he licks your sweat-prickled skin unabashedly. He watches it all, doing his own little research to learn just what you like. You weren't sure at first, but Jeno was a lover boy. Even though you weren’t his, he would love you like you were.

Hes already slipping his hands into your underwear and the moans that slip out of your lips are sinful. He rubs your clit in soothing circles, spreading your juices so he can slip inside and open you up. His other hand slips behind your back and finally removes your bra so he can suckle on your nipples and massage your chest.

“Fuck Jen, I need more, please,” you whine

“You better be able to take what you ask for,” He warns.

He finally slips 2 fingers inside of you and begins to pump them leisurely. You grip the hair at the back of his neck and pull him back to your lips. You needed to drown out the sounds you were about to make when you felt his thick fingers stretch you out. His hands were warm; they warmed your entire body as they worked in tandem to bring you high. Deeply curled fingers had your back arching as you moaned in to his open mouth. He swallowed down all your sounds as he huffed his own into your mouth. He was grinding down shallowly into one of your thighs as he lay on top of you. The length of him rubbing against you gave you a good idea of what you would be working with tonight and you were happy for your lessons with Jaemin because Jeno was definitely going to split you in two. That thought alone had your thighs clamping against his wrist and your hands gripping on to him, anywhere you could reach.

“You there, baby? Fight through it. You got it. Come on,” he said, speaking with a soft bass in his voice.

“Im gonna cum,” you choke out every part of your body, lighting up with pleasure that you can't snuff out.

His fingers slow but they don't stop completely. He lets up, willing you to calm down. You feel your orgasm slowly slip away and the feeling that was left afterwards was something close to desperation. Your legs are spread wide as you roll your hips up onto his fingers, urging him deeper. You pull him impossible closer to your body. His fingers pick up their pace again and it feels like you have grown 100 times more sensitive because this time it takes little to no time for the waves that crash against you and lap at your stomach to finally drown you out. Jeno can feel the way you tense up in his hold and he pulls away completely this time.

“No, please, this is driving me crazy,” you cry

“Come on, baby your doing so good,” he says, kissing your pout

Your body is still tingling with the traces of your lost orgasm but you manage to calm down as Jeno passes his hands against your skin soothingly. Stroking your sides and stomach lazily until you settle.

“What if we try something else?” he suggests after another minute of gazing at you.

“Like what?”

"Well, if you find it difficult to hold back your orgasm, why not just let it go?”

“I'm not following. Doesn’t that defeat the whole point?” you quirk a brow at him

“Im saying what if you build your endurance to last multiple rounds. Find a way to keep going through multiple orgasms.

The thought turned your entire view upside down. You had never thought of it that way. You weigh the options in your head. The burning desire and desperation that edging leaves you with or the overwhelming sensations that overstimulation was sure to make you writhe with. Maybe this question was best asked when you weren’t horny and wound up from an orgasm denial because all you could think about was cuming.

“Lets try that”

Jeno kisses down your body until he lays between your legs. He shifts one leg over his shoulder and kisses your clit softly while holding eye contact. Your hips already twitch with need. “Hands behind your back” was his whispered command.

You fold your arms, bending each at the elbow, neatly behind your back. You rest against them as you breathe deeply through your nose. Jeno licks a flat strip against your folds. Your folds were already soaked, practically dripping onto the sheets and he just cleaned it all up. He licks a pointed strip now through your folds, parting them on his way up until hes teasing at your clit again, He wraps his lips against it and suckles gently. He slips his fingers back inside as he gets lost in making out with your pussy. It takes every fibre in your being to hold still; you needed to focus on lasting as long as you could. You decided you would scum but you at least wanted to see how long you could last. Jeno just hums against you, lost in his own thoughts and his own world. His eyes were closed now but his eyebrows were furrowed up like he was concentrating.

He parts his fingers inside of you, stretching them out to make room for his tongue, He licks inside of you over and over and you truly do go crazy. Your thighs attempt to clamp close, but Jeno’s free arm pins one of them open, forcing his face back into your heat. He fucks his fingers ruthlessly now, determined to throw you over into the current, and he does. Your orgasm leaves you feeling sleepy and heavy. The only thing that brings you back down to earth is Jeno’s slick mouth sliding into place over yours as he kisses you deeply.

“3 times. Can you handle that? 3 times?” he asks

You take his words into consideration; you feel yourself throbbing, but you think you could manage two more rounds. You send him a nod and he kisses you again as he shoves off the last piece of his clothing. You can feel him stroke against your slick folds, teasing the head of his cock inside before pulling back out to slap it against your wetness.

“You ready?”

You nod and he pushes inside of you. You were right; he was splitting you open. Once he was sitting all the way inside, you let out a small whimper, and he instantly soothed you.

“You’re ok. I'm gonna make you feel really good,” he shushes into your ear as he caresses you.

His voice is so soft and smooth that you relax against his hold. You wrap your arms around his neck and peck his lips before sending him a nod. You couldn't bring up enough energy to speak. You barely had enough to cum again but you would fight through the drowsiness.

“Let me know if you want to stop, ok?” he offers gently before pulling his hips back slowly to thrust deep inside of you again.

It was like he was hypnotizing you—the way his hips moved as he fucked you, the way his slim waist looked with your legs wrapped around it, the way his arms flexed when he went a little harder. You could get used to being under Jeno. You would take however many rounds he gave you. If it meant you could prolong this sensation, you would endure each and every one of them. You loved the way he filled you up and split you open over and over again as he pounded into you. You loved his noises you had to strain to listen for, you loved the way his face would scrunch up in pleasure when you clamped down tight around him.

Your bodies compliment each other's movements as you chase his hips with your own. You were wound up too tight; you needed release. His hands snake down between your legs and circle your clit skillfully. You cum again, this time around his length. He fucks you through it and settles deep inside of you, holding still until your breathing evens again. You didn't know how he did it. He hadn't come once since you started, which must have taken an ungodly amount of will. You knew you wouldn't be able to do that, at least not for a long time. You would have to settle for fighting through the overstimulation for now. You weakly thrust your hips up again, signaling for him to start again.

“Last one baby, I think I'll be a little more selfish this time,” he says before pressing a kiss into your shoulder.

You don't get to ask what he means before he manhandles you into the next position. He lips your hips before swiftly placing a pillow underneath you, angling your hips up. He grips your thighs, forcing them off of his hips and pressing them deep into your chest, your knees bracing your head. He shoves back in deep, fucking you into the mattress in a mating press. He didn't care if you could cum again because he was going to rip it from you. Puppydog eyes no longer stare back at you; they hadn't since he laid you down on the mattress, but this time something else swims behind his eyes. It was pure hunger, like that of a wolf. You realized that, although he was good at holding back, once the gate was open, nothing could stop what rushed through. It was like the final leg of a race, where you see the finish line and sprint for it. He was pent up, and he was going to let you have it.

Over and over again, his hips pounded harshly into yours. They were sure to bruise by morning, joining the others that probably adorn your body from all your other late-night activities. He hadn't mentioned them but you knew he had noticed because he focused most of his kisses there, like he wanted to paint over the others work.

Empty, there was nothing going on inside your head. Just his name repeating on loop until it filled up your thoughts so much that it had no choice but to spill from your lips. His own pathetic moans fill the air as he thrusts, getting sloppy, less sharp and less precise, and he finishes deep inside of you. You’re almost there and you’re grateful that he fights through his own overstimulation to keep fucking into you lazily. You cum around him and your body goes limp against your sheets.

“You were able to keep up with me; you were amazing,” he says around his heavy breathing. You just look over to him and smile, far too exhausted to speak

When you wake up the next morning, you are not expecting to see jeno still lying next to you. You were sure you made it clear to him this wouldnt be a long-term thing. You shake him awake and he stirs in this sleep before cracking an eye open. He looks at you, then rolls over like you were bothering him.

"Jen, get up. You have to go,” you say, shaking his shoulder again

"Hngm,” he groans, pulling more of your cover over him.

You just stare at him incredulously. You slap his shoulder hard and he finally sits up fully. He looks more alert now as he takes in your appearance and then the time on the bedside table.

“Fuck! Im going to be late for practice,” is all he says before rushing to grab his clothes and phone off your nightstand.

You just watch him in amusement as he scrambles around the room. He's halfway through the door before he stops in his tracks. He turns around and strides back to you before leaning over to plant a sweet kiss on your lips. This kiss was short, but you sensed something in it. He pulled away and stepped out the door fully this time, saying a quick goodbye. Jeno was a track star; he’d make it. As you hear your front door close with a heavy slam, one thought runs through your head.

Jeno the track star, and Jeno, the lover boy, was attached to you. In what ways, you didn’t know, but you could not find out.

Navigating across your college campus was already difficult when you had to regularly avoid crowds of students. Now that you were practically a wanted fugitive, it was even harder to slip between the halls and walk from class to class.

Jeno had texted you a few times since he left your house that one day. Haechan never stopped asking around for you, Renjun was pretty cool about everything so it was only a little awkward when you passed him in the halls, and Jaemin... Boy, if Jaemin got his hands on you, it was so over.

There was only one person you wanted to see and that was Mark. He was the only one who hadn't tried to hit you up. It was like he had vanished from the face of the earth. You had practically begged Jisung for any updates but even he hadn't seen him around. It wasn't until you walked into the library one day and saw Mark cuddle up with some girl that your questions were answered. You were devastated. You had spent so much time trying to be perfect for him and he had used that time to move on to another girl. You couldn't exactly blame him; you had been blowing him off for awhile in favor of your "studies.”.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You hated life. Life always has a sick way of turning you on your head. What was this all for without Mark? Not to say you went on this whole sexual exploration just for him but he was the end goal. He was the final boss. It was like putting in hours on a videogame just to have it shut down before you could save. Yes, you play it for fun, but you also play for the sense of accomplishment that comes with completing it and winning.

What was that saying? Play stupid games,win stupid prizes?

You were out sipping smoothies and pouring your heart out to your friend group. You told them everything. Some were more shocked than others.

“You were trying to fuck my cousin!?” Jisung says this in horror as he almost chokes on his smoothie.

“Sorry, Jisung, I cant explain that one” You send him an apologetic smile.

“I just knew something was up! You had that glowy look,” your friend Yangyang says

“Yeah, that post-sex glow!” Mia chimes in

“Will you two quiet down?” You shush them; you did not need the entire establishment knowing you “glow” after sex, making it sound like you had some type of radioactive pussy.

“I cant believe you fucked them; thats bold even for you,” jisung adds

“I dont need your judgment, jisung”

“No, im not judging; its just that they all-”

“Can we please drop it, I dont want to talk about this anymore; people are starting to stare” The old couple that sat across from your table sneaked glances at you and your friends.

"Well, if you want to get over Mark, you should get under someone else,” chenle says

“Its your advice that got me here in the first place,” you remind him as you finish your smooth sucking down the last drop.

You needed to just spend some time alone, collect yourself and get over mark. Honestly, your kind of happy that this happened sooner rather than later, before you developed more intimate feelings for him. You had already been on your way down that path and it had scared you a little. Maybe this was for the best since you weren't yet ready to face your feelings.

You were supposed to be the reasonable friend. You were supposed to be the friend who told everyone else when they were making stupid decisions, but now that you were making dumb decisions, there was no one there to stop you. You shouldn't listen to Chenle, especially not after the first time but it was like there was a devil-shaped Chenle on your shoulder, egging you on.

You texted Renjun; it has been weeks since you last spoke to him and you hoped there were no hurt feelings between you. You had told him you wanted to meet up and that you had a lot of things on your mind that you wanted to forget, even if just for one night. He said he wasn't upset about you ghosting him; he said that was what the app was all about and that if you ever needed a distraction, you were always welcome over.

You were so grateful to Renjun; he always made you feel safe and welcome. You were thankful that he was your first sexual encounter after your past failed attempts.

You know the way to his house like the back of your hand at this point. You were excited to see Renjun again. You hoped that you could build a relationship outside of just sex; he seemed like a really cool dude. You knock on the door, and it swings open a second later.

It wasn't Renjun.

“Sorry, my roomates were just leaving,” the man you were here to meet says, popping up from behind Haechan, who had answered the door. The blood drained from your face. "Haechan, let her in”

Haechan doesn't take his eyes off of you once. When he eventually shifts to the side to let you through the door, you expect him to walk out, but he simply closes it behind you.

You walk into the living room, and 2 other pairs of eyes lock onto you. Confused looks were exchanged between everyone in the room except Renjun, who still had no idea what was going on.

“These are my roomates, Jeno and Jaemin, oh and thats Haechan” Jeno and Jaemin were sitting on the couch in the living room, dressed to go out and Haechan was still standing in the small walkway that led from the living room to the front door.

“We know each other,” haechan says. Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun all give him a confused look after he makes the comment.

“So do we,” Jeno and Jaemin say in unison before quickly looking at each other, even more confused.

“I actually forgot I think I have an assignment due, I need to turn it in before 12 so I think I'll leave,” you say with a sheepish, akward smile.

You turn to run away but Haechan blocks your path. “Where are you running to babe? You’ve been avoiding me for weeks I think we should have a little chat.

“I really need to turn in that assignment” You try again

“Sit down, princess,” jaemins stern voice calls from the couch, He moves over and pats the space next to him.

Fuck.

“Wait, don't tell me,” Renjun says, finally putting all the pieces together. “Did we all fuck her?”

“Yes! I fucked all of you,” you grumble as you plop down on the couch sandwiched between Jeno and Jaemin. You were caught either way, so you might as well fess up. You can't bring yourself to look at Jeno; you knew there would be hurt in his eyes. “In my defense, I had no idea you were all roomates”

“No judgment over here love. I just wish you would have come to me instead of Renjun if you wanted to fuck tonight,” haechan smirked

You cross your arms against your chest and huff. its not like you were in trouble; you were all grown consenting adults but it sure felt like you were.

“That's what you were gonna do, right? Use everything I taught you to go fuck him?” Jaemin says, his piercing stare seeing right through you.

You were annoyed, you hated being on the hot seat, you had come here to escape your worries and not be confronted by 4/5ths of them. Maybe that is why you lash out a little. “Yes, Jaemin, I'm going to fuck your roomate and make him scream loud enough for the rest of you to hear”

“And where did you learn how to do that?”

“From you, of course”

The room grows silent and that annoys you more. You couldn't understand why no one was ripping you out of your clothes yet. “Is someone going to fuck me, or do I have to find someone else to do it”

“Are you ok with Renjun sharing you?” haechan suggests

“I think I can handle it; can you” you say to the room.

“Wouldnt be the first time we shared,” jaemin says

You finally turn to face jeno. He looks at you, then at your lips, and finally speaks. “I want you… I need you so bad” You had a feeling his words had a deeper meaning than that

You didnt have time to worry about him; you already had so much on your mind but you did spare him the slightest mercy and lean into him first. You kiss him, pulling him into a heated kiss and you can feel warm hands under your shirt as Jaemin kisses your neck. Suddenly, you were being pulled away from the kiss and hauled off the couch. Renjun stood in front of you and said, “lets go to my room; I have the most space”

The trail of clothes that is left behind in the hallway was the only evidence you left behind as the door to Renjuns room closed behind you. You crawl into the bed, and Jaemin crawls in behind you. Renjun takes it upon himself to have you first. He claims your lips in a kiss before he trails his hot mouth down your body. He sucks at your chest before continuing down. Jaemin grabs a hold of them from behind, massaging them in Renjun's wake. Haechan props himself up beside you and kisses you, his hand drawing mindless circles against the skin at your stomach as Renjun caresses your thighs as he prys them open. He lays between them and for once, he doesn't wait. He dives in, immeditaly pressing his hot tongue all over you, spreading your juices as he sucks and licks at your cunt. Your hips fuck up on to his tongue and into his face, and he doesn't stop you. He doesn't stop you when you grab ahold of his hair to grind against his face messily. From beside you, Haechan sits up, dick pressing against your lips and urging you to open your mouth. You do your best to suck him off, lazily closing your mouth around him, too focused on how Renjun feels between your legs than about properly sucking him off. Jaemin strokes your hair away from your face, gripping it in a makeshift ponytail for you as he watches you suck off Haechan. You can feel him pressing up against your lower back, and you can't help the new wave of slick that gushes out at the thought of him feeling you up again. You had missed him—all of them, really. The thought pulls your mind back to Jeno, who sat silently on your other side. You reach out blindly until you feel for him. He takes your hand in his and guides it down his body. His hand covers yours as you palm him through his boxers. Soft groans leave his mouth, and you manage to pull him from his confines. You grip firmly and stroke him as best you can from your angle. He seems to appreciate it because, in no time, he's fucking up into your fist.

You feel Haechan tense in your mouth and you think he's going to spill but he pulls out instead. He takes up camp next to Renjun, forcing the other to scoot over. They both lap at your fold messily and you don't miss the way their tongues swirl together, tasting each other. You are ripped away from the beautiful sight between your legs when Jaemin grips your hair and makes you take Jeno into your mouth next. He guides your movements, pulling you up and down the jenos cock, making it hit the back of your throat. Your training really paid off because you only gag slightly until you are in control of the reflex again.

Fingers slip between your folds; your not sure who they belong to, but their curving deep, fucking into you ruthlessly. The way they sissor you open has you moaning around Jeno, causing his hips to stutter. You feel a pair of lips sucking cruelly on your clit and you come undone violently. Jeno cums deep down your throat, making you choke a little. He pulls out, laying limply next to you. You don’t miss the way his eyes shine at you.

The grasp in your hair forces your head back and you turn over your shoulder to kiss Jaemin. You were positive he could taste Jeno on your tongue but that didn't stop him from shoving his wet muscle down your throat and chasing the taste. Sometime during your distracted haze, Renjun pushes inside of you and you moan into your kiss with Jaemin. Renjun fucks you fast and deep. Hold on tight to your hips. Haechan busies himself with your chest, sucking on your nipples before pulling back to steal you away from Jaemin's kisses. Haechan kisses you messily, just like the way he ate you out and swallowed your moans. Renjun's pace turns sloppy and he finishes against your stomach. With how neat and tidy he likes to keep his things, you were surprised at how messy he could get in the heat of the moment. He pulls out and flops down beside you. Haechan quickly takes his place and you thank Jeno for his help in preparing you for this moment.

Haechan pushes inside of you easily, your greedy pussy completely swallowing him whole. He wastes no time in driving into you over and over again. He used your body to get off, pressing quick circles into your clit. You swipe some of Renjun’s cum off your stomach and shove your soiled finger into Haechan’s mouth. Your fingers rest against his tongue as he licks them clean with a groan. You slip your hand free, smearing some of his spit across his mouth in the process. You didn’t know what it was about Haechan, but he just got you so worked up. Maybe it was how nasty he was, licking up another man's cum, and how he would probably lick you clean after this. You couln'tt stop your hips as they bucked up into his. You chase your highs and you use each other. After a few quick thrusts, you're cuming all over his length and leaking onto the covers, adding even more fluid to the mess. Haechan doesn’t pull out. He comes deep inside you, stuffing you full before he pulls out to watch it drip from your hole.

“Get on your hands and knees for me, baby,” Jaemin whispers in your ear. He had waited patiently for everyone else to get done with you because he wanted your full attention. Jaemin was going to show you that he was all you needed.

You don't even get a chance to move before he moves you into position himself. He takes one of the pillows from the head of the bed and instructs you to lay your head on it. You think hes being nice, worried about your neck cramping, until he says, “bite it”

He wouldn't go easy on you this time, not with how pent-up he has been. A hand grips your head, shoving your face into the pillow as he slips inside. This time, there is zero resistance. With all the slick spilling out of your hole, he was able to lube up before slipping inside.

“Fuck, look at that. Taking it so well,” Jeno says from his spot on the bed. A few moans follow and you assume they are all touching themselves at the sight.

Jaemin forces your head up and makes you look at Renjun, Haechan, and Jeno, all beating their dicks. “You think they can fuck you like I do? No ones got you like I do baby and i’m gonna prove it”

Your pushed back into the pillow, your screams muffled as he snaps his hips into your ass. Crude clapping fills the room as your skin makes contact from his long, deep strokes. Your moans are instead replaced with Haechan's as they fill the room alongside Renjun and Jenos. Jaemin doesn't let up, grabbing one of your arms and pinning it to your back. Renjun's pillow was soaked with your tears as you cried in pleasure at the way Jaemin fucked you. Your thighs grow weak and you can’t hold yourself up anymore but that's ok because Jaemin's strong grip keeps you up as he holds you in place, pounding into you from behind.

“Fuck, im gonna cum” Haechan moans

You’re about to as well when your thighs start to tremble and your body starts to thrash as you try to escape the onslaught of pleasure.

“Stay right there, princess. You got it,” Jaemin grunts into your ear. His chest is pressed against your back, and his biceps curl around your throat, pulling you away from the pillow and successfully trapping you in a chokehold. You scream out load finally, and your orgasm wracks through you. Your tight grip on Jaemin's cock has him cumming deep inside of you with a groan.

Everyone was exhausted and sprawled across Renjun's bed. Renjun, followed by Haechan, Jeno, You, and Jaemin. That was how you were all laid out. Someone went to grab a towel and whipped you clean before wrapping strong arms around you. Through your drowsiness, you looked up to see Jeno nuzzled into your side, embracing you. You had resolved most of your problems except for one.

You shake the thought from your head—not tonight. Tonight, you would just be his and enjoy this moment. You would face him in the morning. You didn't know him well but maybe you could change that.

a/n: I hope you enjoyed reading this. There will be no Part 2 anytime soon or maybe even ever. Maybe a spin-off could happen but probably far down the road in the future. This is literally just porn with no plot. I seriously have no idea where I would take this story. Comment and leave feedback if you want to; it is always appreciated.

a/n: Fun fact i actually did lose my virginity to a fence, it is completely possible to break your hymen through injury. That shit hurt so bad lmaooo. Some of these events in the fic are pulled from real life. See if you can guess which ones lol.

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roanofarcc · 1 month

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A LITTLE LIFE

pairing. tyler owens x fem!reader

summary. when a storm tyler is chasing changes course, putting you and your daughter in the direct line of danger, tyler drops everything to reach you.

warnings. established relationship, descriptions of injuries, reader gets hurt, angst w/happy ending.

word count. 2.7k || masterlist

You watched as Tyler slung his overnight bag over his shoulder and patted his pockets to ensure he had everything he needed for his latest storm-chasing adventure.

“Are you sure you have everything? Did you pack your charger? Because-” Your husband cut you off with a gentle chuckle.

“It was the first thing I packed,” he said. The one time he had let his phone die while on a chase nearly sent you into cardiac arrest. He hadn’t sent you his usual indication that the chase went well and he and the rest of the Wranglers were just fine. You were in a fit of panic until Lily called you with words of reassurance and a promise to scold Tyler for his forgetfulness. Since then, you always bugged him to ensure he had his charger and that he used it.

But he had gotten a lot better about checking in since you had your little girl. The reckless Wrangler pumped the breaks just slightly, calling every night he was away to hear the little baby babble before he fell asleep. He’d taken a rather long break from chasing when she was born, but you knew he missed it dearly. And while you’d miss him, he promised to keep his trips to a couple days tops and he’d come home the second you felt overwhelmed or needed help, no matter the size of the storm they were after.

You were nervous to let him go, but you always had been. Yet, Tyler’s love for the dangerous weather wasn’t something you wanted to stand in the way of. He was doing what he loved, with the people he loved even more. You were proud of him and his friends for sticking to their guns and doing everything they could to help the people affected by the storms.

Tyler moved to stand in front of you and your little girl, who you held on your hip. She was all smiles as Tyler kissed her cheeks. “You keep an eye on your momma for me this weekend, okay? She’s a handful.”

You playful rolled your eyes. “Right, because I’m the one who refuses to sleep at bedtime.” That had been an ongoing battle. Your little girl liked to stay awake all night and nap off and on through the day, leaving you and Tyler on the backward schedule too.

Tyler pressed a kiss to your lips, pulling away too soon for your liking. He looked unsure of himself, eyes flickering between you and your daughter. “You sure you’re gonna be all right?” he asked, for what had to be the hundredth time that morning. He always checked before he left, over and over again just in case you changed your mind, but you never did.

You placed a hand on his cheek, smiling in reassurance. “I promise,” you said.

He nodded, kissing you once more as he muttered, “I love you,” against your lips.

“I love you too.”

With your baby’s backward sleep schedule, you had managed to put her to sleep by mid-afternoon. She slept soundly in her crib, and you collapsed on the couch with a tired sigh. The TV droned on, playing some old sitcom that you’ve seen a million times, lulling you to sleep slowly before it overtook you completely.

The gentle breeze swept in through the open windows, filling your home with a springtime sweetness you thought would remain throughout the weekend, sprinkled with a few rain showers throughout. But as you slept, the pretty blue skies started to shift, changing into something much more sinister.

The storm was glorious. Tyler’s veins were filled with adrenaline as they followed the twister down an empty backroad, watching as it gained speed. Boone stayed steady filming it, hollering in excitement the whole time. They didn’t get a chance to catch their breath until the tornado was choked out, dissipating before their eyes like it had never been there at all, but leaving behind a clear path of destruction across the open plains.

The weekend was supposed to host a slew of storms just north of Tyler’s home, and he and his team felt pretty good about their luck based on the first tornado they caught. Maybe it was a little superstitious, but they often used the first storm they chased as a baseline for how lucky they’d be during that outbreak.

Meeting back up with the rest of the Wranglers, Tyler watched the sky with his hands on his hips, his mind split between the storms and you. Even though he had been chasing since your daughter was born, he was still a little hesitant, especially considering how much of a hassle it was to get her to sleep through the night, but you were just as supportive and wonderful as ever. His responsibility to you and your daughter was his first priority, but his responsibility to the Wrangles was second.

“We got another big one brewin’ southeast,” Dexter said, eyes glued to the radar. Peering over his shoulder, Lily watched it too. The fixed small smile on her lips faltered before her brows furrowed. She patted Dexter’s shoulder to get him to step aside from the device.

Tyler could tell she was thinking hard about something, her lip pulled between her teeth and shoulders rolling back.

“Lily,” Tyler said. “What is it?”

“It’s heading right for town.”

Boone’s face pinched in confusion. “What town?”

All Lily had to do was look at Tyler before he felt a cold twist of dread overtake his body. The storm was heading straight for you.

You were exhausted. So much so that you didn’t wake up until a loud crash jolted you out of your slumber. You shot up from the couch with a gasp, heartbeat quick in your chest. The curtains that framed the open windows whipped around wildly as a harsh wind blew through screen. It pushed over the vase of flowers that were resting on the end table in front of the window, leaving broken glass and water strewn across the floor.

You hurried over to the window, only to be assaulted by the violent wind and rain that seemed to be coming down sideways. Cursing under your breath, you went around the living room, closing the windows and blocking out the loud howl that rose goosebumps on your skin.

Thunder rumbled loudly, rattling the house and waking up the baby. You hurried down the hall, scooping up your daughter with her woven pink blanket. As you tried to calm her down, the sirens rang out with a fury.

Tornadoes were as common in spring as rain, but your nerves never vanished whenever the sirens sounded. You had been lucky, always just out of the direct path of the storm resulting only in a fallen tree or ruined patio furniture, but nothing too damning. Yet, you never wanted to take your chances, try to outsmart the force of nature by testing your luck. And you had another person to be responsible for. So, you grabbed the diaper bag hanging on the back of the closet and started toward the basement.

It was half-finished, but home to an emergency stock of supplies if worse ever came to worse during tornado season. Usually, you stayed calm during storms, either reassured by Tyler or able to talk yourself out of any worry as the storm passed by without too much rocking of the house. But Tyler wasn’t there, and it was your first big storm with the baby.

Panic welled in your chest, pushing against your ribs as you sat on the old cot set up in the far corner of the basement, beside the shelf of food, water, and a radio. Your baby girl had stopped crying, lulled by you gently rocking her. Flipping on the radio, you listened as the weather overhead worsened. The weatherman only confirmed your fears when he listed your county as being right in the path of the increasingly powerful tornado.

With one hand, you fumbled around in your pockets, in search of your phone, only to realize you had plugged it in not long after Tyler left. It remained upstairs. You heard the howl of wind increase and you knew you’d missed your window to safely venture upstairs. Instead, you were stuck, huddled in the corner of the basement silently praying your luck hadn’t run out and the storm would switch its path or disappear before it reached your home.

But your luck seemed to have run out.

Tyler was sure he’d never been so terrified of a storm before. Normally, he found the beauty in them, but he also had seen their destruction firsthand. It was always devastating to see people’s homes flattened and watch them in a desperate scramble to find their missing loved ones in the rubble. That was why they put their money towards helping those people; it wasn’t much, but it was the only way he knew how to help.

It was a different kind of heartbreak when the devastation plagued a familiar place. As soon as he turned down the little gravel road that led to his neighborhood, he felt violently ill. It was like a swift punch in the gut, nearly causing him to double over at the wheel. The homes he had memorized along the street were gone, old trees completely uprooted, and cars overturned and totaled.

“Oh my God,” Lily muttered from the backseat, bringing Tyler slightly out of his increasing panic. He didn’t know what he expected, based on the damage leading down the road toward your guys’ home, but nothing prepared him for seeing his little house in ruins. His mind didn’t even register what was happening until he abandoned his truck, running across what used to be the front yard.

“No, no, no,” he whispered, unable to say much of anything else as he climbed over the rubble of the house. His chest felt impossibly tight, like his heart had been flattened alongside the homes, because his heart wasn’t in his chest anymore, not really. His heart was with you and your little girl; he’d given it away to you long ago and then again when he held his daughter for the very first time.

And neither one of you were anywhere to be seen.

The Wranglers started to yell your name before Tyler found his voice and joined them. He peeled through the debris, numb to the pain in his hands as they cut against the mangled pieces of what once was a house. With each second that passed that he couldn't see you or hear you, his whole world seemed to darken around him.

In the very back of his mind, he held a worry of something happening to him while he was chasing; he was as careful as he could be, making sure to only get into situations he could get himself and his team out of, but he never had considered he’d one day he at risk of losing you.

Tyler had never considered having a little family of his own until he met you. He’d never felt so at home with a person since you crash-landed into his life. And after you two married, and you told him you were pregnant, he was faced with a brighter future than he’d ever imagined for himself. The idea that he may have lost it so suddenly was excruciating.

“I got ‘em!” Boone yelled above the blood rushing in Tyler’s ears. Boone was on the other side of what used to be the house, grasping a bloodied hand that poked out of the rubble. “I need some help over here!”

Tyler sprinted across the yard, as did the rest of the Wrangles. Lily, Dexter, and Dani ripped back the pile of debris while Boone and Tyler pulled on your hand, helping you out of the basement. You landed on your knees, one hand still clutching Tyler’s while your other was holding onto the baby.

A cry of relief left Tyler’s lips as he fell to the ground in front of you. Your hand wasn’t the only thing that was bloodied, it ran down the side of your face and stained the sleeve of your shirt.

“Baby,” he muttered, carefully grasping the sides of your face to get a better look at you. Your eyes were a little unfocused, red-rimmed, and watery. He wiped some of the blood off of your cheek, causing you to wince in pain. “Are you okay?” Clearly, you weren’t, but he needed to know if there was more damage than the cuts and bruises. Your eyes instantly fell onto the baby in your arm, panic taking hold of your features.

“I-I don’t know,” you cried. You pulled back the blanket slightly from your daughter’s face, and there were a couple drops of blood smeared across her delicate skin. “I don’t know,-” Your voice caught in your throat, resulting in a shaky sob.

Carefully, Tyler took the baby, who looked up at him with a quiet contentness, despite the chaos. She babbled quietly, reaching up toward him. He let her wrap her little hand around his fingers and quickly looked her over for any injuries. When he wiped the blood away, he quickly realized it was yours, not hers, which made him both feel relief and panic at the same time.

“There’s EMTs comin’ in now. I’ll grab one!” Dani said before she took off down the road where the sirens wailed.

Boone kneeled beside Tyler, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “Do you want me to take the kid to get checked out while you wait here, with her?” Tyler nodded, passing off the baby to Boone, who smiled kindly down at her and started talking nonsense in the way that always made the little girl smile.

Tyler’s full focus was on you as your shock started to wear off. You grabbed a fist full of his shirt, struggling to breathe as you tried to speak. “I fell asleep,” you choked out. “S-She went down for a nap, and I fell asleep. I didn’t…” A sputtered breath fell from your lips as Tyler held you close, hand placed firmly on the back of your head and the other rubbing something circled across your back.

“It’s all right,” he whispered against the side of your head that wasn’t cut. “You’re okay.”

You buried your head into his chest, sagging against him. “I’m sorry,” you said between hiccups.

Confusion flushed Tyler. “What in the world are you sorry for?” He was the one who was sorry. He knew tornados were unpredictable, that was all a part of their nature. But he felt like he should have known the storm was coming for you, even if it was something completely out of his control. You had done everyone right; he left you alone.

You didn’t answer, though. Instead, you squeezed your eyes closed just as Dani led an EMT back to where you two sat in the front yard. Not too far, Tyler could see Boone holding onto your baby girl while she was looked over too. By the little smile on her lips when Boone made a funny face, Tyler knew she was okay, and that was all thanks to you.

You had to spend a couple of hours in the hospital, getting a couple stitches and diagnosed with a minor concussion. Other than that, both you and your daughter were okay.

Since your guys' home was torn apart, the three of you posted up in one of the nicer motels just outside of town. You lounged on the bed, smiling softly as you watched Tyler and your daughter engage in a riveting conversation of nonsensical words and babbles that almost sounded like words. He felt your gaze and met it from his position at the end of the bed.

The bumps and bruises would fade, and homes could be rebuilt; the most important thing was that all three of you were okay. Your little family, something you only wanted to protect, was still standing strong.

Tyler scooped the baby girl up in his arms before he moved it sit right beside you, pressing a kiss to your cheek before he did the same to your daughter. You rested your head on his shoulder, brushing a gentle finger across the little girl’s chubby cheeks.

“We’re okay,” you whispered, like a reminder to yourself.

Tyler wrapped an arm around you, pulling you impossibly close before he repeated, “We’re okay.”

#twisters #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #glen powell #glen powell fanfic #twisters fanfic #tyler owens fanfiction

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hoshigray · 9 months

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𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐌𝐄 [& 𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲 𝑴𝑬] 𝐔𝐏!! | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: It's bad enough you got a crush on your gym instructor, Toji; however, it gets worse when things become too close and personal for this relationship...But who says you shouldn't get a little praise for your hard work?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: personal trainer! Toji x fem! reader - explicit contents; minors DNI - unrequited/crushing » mutual pining - sex in a public space (gym locker room + showers) - shower sex - thigh riding - oral (m! + f! receiving) - ball massaging - face + throat-fucking - breast fondling + nipple play - against a wall + upstanding citizen + standing 69 positions - praise - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - cervix fucking - pet names (angel, baby, doll, dollface, good girl, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - unprotected sex (doesn't shoot inside tho) - overstimulation - cameos: Haibara and Ino (gym manager and employee) - the reader accidentally walks into the men's locker room (they're a bit dumb, forgive them, lol) - mention of sweat spit and tears.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.4k (i'm about to lose my mind, bro.)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: mannnnnn, the way this draft has been collecting dust, it was supposed to be released on Dec!! ofc my first fic back would be for toji lmao. anyways, i hope you enjoy, and tysm for 4.7k y'all are so sweet ;;w;; and thank yeww @ramonathinks for beta-reading, mwah mwah

“That one was weak; do another three.”

“Gahh– …You’re such an asshole, Fushiguro.”

“Heh, like that’s anythin’ new. C’mon, let’s go!”

We’re counting down to the last weeks of the year, and so many people have already promised affirmations for themselves in the upcoming year. In terms of this year, you can’t say much. You’ve done your work, hung out with the same people since last year, and probably learned to spoil yourself more. Maybe another thing you can be proud of is that you crossed some TV series off your “get-to-watch” list, so go you!

Although, besides those minimal things, there is one change in your life that you’ve committed yourself to. One thing that you didn’t expect to be so in tune with throughout the past half of the year. It started as a forced challenge because your friend Miwa needed someone to motivate her to maintain her gym membership. What was once something you’d thought a one-time thing gradually became something you enjoy — something you felt proud doing!

Not only has your knowledge of your body and how to keep it in good shape improved over half a year, but your love for the community has grown more and more. The gym you go to feels like a second home, with many people you’ve gotten to know and befriend along your journey. Even the manager, Haibara Yu, practically treats you like a sibling after seeing you every other day. The same goes for the front desk associate, Ino, who is the goofiest goofball you’ve ever met (not to mention the best drinking buddy).

But – if you really had to pick – there is one person who has made this experience more enjoyable and worthwhile. “Hahhh!! There, I did them! Aren’t you supposed to be my spotter, not a shit-talker?”

“I’m doin’ my job, aren’t I?” Toji Fushiguro, your gym instructor for the past few months, has been a driving force in your physical journey. With his help, you’ve been disciplining yourself in and outside of the facility, maintaining a good diet, and keeping your body active in a balanced fashion. The gratitude you have for him supersedes all. But above all else, throughout the years, the two of you have gotten pretty close and know a good chunk about each other to call yourselves friends – at least, that’s what you’ve been doing. “Alright, that’s enough lifting for today; time for stretches.”

Aside from a friend, there is something else you refer to him as – something you’d rather die than admit out loud. Toji, your trainer, is your gym crush. Well, your crush in general.

Can you really blame yourself, though? Look at the man! When you first look at him, his physique alone is enough to keep you staring at him for hours and hours on end. Strong, bulky arms that look like they could pick up five treadmills in one sitting and with veins that decorate up to his forearm can effortlessly grab the attention of the normal eye. He’s wearing his black fitted tee, so tight that it was as if it was vacuum sealed to perfectly showcase the outline of his abdomen, ribs, and pectorals. And it doesn’t help from the back view either; you can’t count how many times you fell into a short trance from admiring his gorgeous back, from his trapezius to his waist. Every time the man flexes his biceps and triceps, all you can do is internally thank the gods for sculpting such a man to be in front of you. And those beautiful thighs and calves shaped from his black leggings and shorts? Damn.

But the thing about him that has you squeak more than a mouse are his eyes. Forest green orbs that can shift into a stern concentration whenever he’s working on a machine or when he’s observing your form and finds whatever needs correcting. Then there are times when they are mellow and soft when you’re speaking with him or when he’s deep in thought about something until you catch his attention. Then he’d throw a small smile at you — your biggest weakness. The scar on his lip being lifted to a curl never fails to put your stomach into knots.

He’s such an attractive man from the first moment you ever laid your eyes on him. You were bound to fall in love with him one way or another. It just sucks that it’s under such a professional relationship that you have to keep this little unrequited love to yourself.

Which is getting harder and harder every day, especially now when the guy is so close to your face when he’s helping you stretch. Oh, dear lord.

Every time you are done lifting weights, Toji will have you do stretches. He has you do them before and after a workout as they give your muscles time to warm up and straighten from the stress you put on them. So now, as you’re laying on your mat, Toji puts one hand on your right leg to keep it grounded on the floor and his other hand on the back of your left to push it up to your chest. The position has the two of you so close, him being situated between your legs and observing your breathing; it’s so wrong of you to dwell your mind into other things – other raunchier things.

And when he brings both your legs up to your chest, how the fuck are you supposed to calm your heart from exploding!?? You have to close your eyes during all this to not be pulled in by the examination of his gaze under his raven bangs. This is, without a doubt, the best worst part of the workouts. Thankfully, this is the last workout of the week, and the gym is about to close within an hour and a half.

Toji breaks the suffering silence between you two. “Y’re still stiff; take deeper breaths f’r me.”

Oh, if only he knew how your dirty mind took that sentence. You chew on your lip with a gulp, “Maybe I still have a little energy in me that still wants to exercise.”

That made him chortle. “Is that so? Well, maybe after your stretches, you can get on the stairmaster for a few minutes.”

You gawk at him, only furthering the smirk on his face. “Are you serious!?? You promised we wouldn’t do any cardio until next week.”

“Well, next week is around the corner,” Toji moves your knees a bit to the left, bending them further down to your chest so his face could be a little closer to yours. Your brain almost short circuits at the movement, trying to distract yourself from the fact that his groin is mere inches away from your shorts. “So, since ya got the spirit, be a doll and do a few minutes on the machine, okay? Five minutes.”

Your breathing is so slow that you’re too scared to move. Your lips pressed to a thin line to conceal the quiver, and your eyes don’t dare venture down. You already know your body is going through its own internal turmoil, a throbbing sense occurring in your lower regions the more you keep looking at Toji, who lifts a brow from awaiting your response. Oh, this man is going to kill me.

“…Five minutes.”

“Atta girl.” With a scoff, he finally straightens himself and places your legs on the mat. Toji then stands on his feet and grabs his bag. “Gonna head for the showers; finish up those stretches and head for the stepmaster. See ya later, Y/n.” And you watch him leave for the men’s locker room, finally having room to breathe. Before you can conclude your stretches with a cobra and child’s pose, you grumble to yourself in a whisper.

Why the hell did I have to fall in love with such a snarky, gruff, older guy like him…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You enter the locker room after completing the instructed exercise. Your mind is dizzy from walking on the step machine for about fifteen minutes, and your legs are mere minutes from turning into jelly. You curse Toji internally for the insufferable torture you’ve stressed on your poor limbs.

No matter, though; you’re finally done for the evening and can head home to your soft bed. The gym will close soon, so perhaps you could use the locker room showers to freshen up. But then again, after the strain you’ve put on your body for almost two hours, all you want to do is be home and listen to your favorite music. I don’t feel like cooking today…

Further into the room, you can hear the sound of someone using the showers, indicating you had picked the right idea to head home. You head for the locker side to grab your items to put in your bag before leaving, and it’s then that you hear the water stop running from where the showers are. Oh, shit, make this quick, Y/n!

In front of you is the locker with the number you’re familiar with — where you always leave your things, like your own spot. You open it only to find….nothing is in the locker? Huh? Where are my leggings? And my phone??

Come to think of it, where’s your duffel bag that you usually leave on the bench against the lockers? You’ve never had a problem with people stealing from you in this place, so how does a bag full of your stuff magically disappear? There is a bag in here, but it’s definitely not yours. And now that you get a good look, you start to notice that the color of the lockers is of a different, darker shade than what you’re usually accustomed to. Wait a minute, am I in the wrong—

“Y/n?”

You go still at the familiar voice. Oh no, please, God, no. There’s no way. Your eyes teeter to the corner as you ever-so-slowly turn to the direction where that voice was coming from. And, of course, it was your personal trainer, who is—OH MY GOD!!!

Toji stands afar on the opposite side of you from the showers, without clothing, his body and hair completely drenched from water. The only thing that covers him is a white towel wrapped around his lower body. His body, which you’re used to seeing being snug tight by his gym clothes, is out for you to see as water trickled down from his clavicle, pecs, ribcage, and abs. For a split second, you take in as much of the image as you can, storing this as it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in your mind (maybe to fuel more of your erotic fantasies when you go home). But you avert your gaze when your eyes travel down his abs, counting each one until you reach below his belly button, where strays of dark hair become more prominent with a trail down his pelvis and—Okay, stop looking, stop looking!!

“M–Mr. Fushiguro!?” You croak, eyes wide with realization at what you’ve just done. Your dumbass just walked into the men’s locker room without checking first. And to add salt to the wound, your crush is the first person to catch you in the act, “O-Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to walk in here! I’ll get going—“

“No, no, Y/n, calm down,” Toji walks to where you’re standing; a mini-heart attack was about to be deployed until the older man turned to the side to grab for something in his bag. He pulls out a smaller towel. “Ya walked in here on accident, right?”

You gulp, seeing the steam from the shower still leave from Toji’s nude body. “Uhm, yeahhh, I don’t know where my head was at. Sorry…”

The gym instructor scoffs at your apology. “It happens; must’ve been a bit light-headed from the exercise and forgot where y’re at. Heh, guess those five minutes did more damage than I thought.”

“Ahaha, yeah, it was…pretty….dreadful……” Were you distracted? Yup. Because Toji used the towel he pulled from his bag to wipe off the water from his arms and face. You couldn’t help but survey the man’s movements, watching the small white towel brush on his triceps and glide down to his torso. You continue watching the small towel until your eyes drift to the happy trail on his pelvis. Your breathing goes uneven, thinking of more indecent things that connect with the trail of hair and the limb that’s shielded by the towel around Toji’s waist.

“…–ou there…Y/n?” Your name said to you snaps you back, realizing where you are and what you were doing. Your eyes crawl back to Toji’s face, who throws a small smile at you. “Eyes up here, sweetie.” Sweetie?!? If the floor could give way and swallow you, that would be appreciated. “Is there anythin’ else you need to tell me while y’re here?”

No, I’m in the men’s locker room, so I need to hurry and get the fuck out! “Uhmm, n-nope, nothing at all! So…I better get going now. See you later, Mr. Fushiguro!” You turn on the heel of your foot to head for the door, only able to take about five giant steps before Toji stops you again.

“How was it today?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, what now!? You look over your shoulder. “Excuse me?”

“The workout. How was it?”

“It…It was, umm, alright, I guess. I feel like I could’ve done better on the weights.”

“And why is that?”

Your body turns to have your front fully face him again. “Well, I mean, I was struggling at the last few reps…I’m sure you noticed, too, since you scolded me about it.”

He hums. “Ya know I correct you because, I know, you can do better, right, Y/n?” It was rhetoric, but you humor him with a slow nod. He brings the small towel to his head and dries his damp hair. “I’ve had many clients who come at me with everything they got or burned out before the first two months. But don’t worry, Y/n, I can tell you take pride in what we’re doing, and it’s good to know…”

His words drown out from your ears. You didn’t mean for it to – you really didn’t. But while Toji was fixing his hair, you snuck more peeks at his body, enjoying his side profile. Admiring the way his arms move and flex, following the rocky silhouette of his abs that lead down to the towel again, you gasp at the dent of something that appears to be between Toji’s legs. Good lord, even with the cotton material covering him, you can still see it and—

“….Y/n.” Oh no, I did it again. You gulp with eyes venturing back to Toji’s face; the grin grew broader than before. “That's twice, sweet thing.”

“S–Sorry, Mr. Fushiguro. It’s just that you have a...uhhh…” The heat in your ears makes it hard to concentrate on looking at the ground, anything to avoid your instructor’s gaze. “…..areallynicebody—“

“Hmm? I didn’t hear that, sweetie,” Sweetie? Sweetie!? Why'd he call me that? What you should be questioning is why that nickname made your stomach flip. But who are you kidding — if anyone had a crush on their instructor and were called a cute name like that, of course, they’d be as hot as a volcano. “Didn’t catch that, say it fr’ me again.”

“I–I said that,” Oh for fuck’s sake, this is so embarrassing! “You have a nice body…An attractive body, really…” The heat on your cheeks and ears is reaching heights that would have you combust at any moment. It’s what you’d hope for, honestly. It’s bad enough you’re stuck in the men’s locker room for not paying attention; now you’re here admitting to your instructor that you got the hots for him. God, please strike me here and now!

Toji says nothing after you say that, and it has your nerves at an all-time high, wondering if you should wait for his reply or just dash for the door and hope no one sees you leaving the men’s locker room. However, his voice breaks the silence, “I can say the same fr’ you.”

Oh, stop it. “Oh, please, no need to butter me up, Mr. Fushigu—“

“I’m serious.” He shuts down your argument down your argument before you can even finish. “C’mere.”

Why did you do what you were about to do? You could’ve just declined, exited the facility, and headed straight home to wallow away about this entire interaction, maybe find a different gym to form a membership with. But you didn’t. Instead, with downcast eyes, you slowly approached your instructor, who stood behind the locker bench. “Closer,” he says, noting how you’re about two arms length away from him, which you meekly decrease to one. “You don’t think ya got a nice body?”

The adjacency between you two was too much for you, your face minutes from imploding. Too shy for words, you settle for a nod to give.

“How come?”

For God’s sake, this is not a conversation you want to have now with your crush instructor in the middle of the men’s locker room. “I…Well, Mr. Fushiguro—“

“Toji,” he cuts you off, discarding the small towel to the top of his bag. “Y’re over here tellin’ me I look good when you’re the one lookin’ like you could strike any guy that walks up in this place. Doncha think so?”

Again, your eyes avoided his toweled figure, focusing on the tiled floor beneath your sneakers. “I guess, but…Toji, when compared to you, I—“

“Then that’s what ya shouldn’t be doin’, who told you to compare y'rself to others?” Toji brings a hand to your chin to make your avoidant peer placed on him, a move you were not mentally strapped in for. “I’m me, and y’re you, right?”

“Right…”

“And that’s a good thing,” the hand on your chin slides down to the inside of your hoodie, his forefinger sneaking under the band of your sports bra. It makes your breathing stop. “But ya know what else I think?”

“What?” You sounded so low – so tiny – you didn’t know if he could hear you. He then brings his face close to your ear, and you could’ve sworn you almost felt your heart jump out of your throat. His free hand comes around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. The cotton of the towel now brushed your leg, and you could sink into a pool of embarrassment at the gasp you let out.

His voice was hoarse and low, the air from his nostrils grazing the skin of your ear. “…I think y’r body is the sexiest thing I’ve seen.”

The sentence hit you like a truck, your heart almost giving in to a complete shutdown. “Huh–Ohhhh, wait,” Toji takes a nibble of your ear while his hand slithers your hoodie off of you, freeing your arms and covered chest where he creeps his hand inside next. You whimper at his fingers on your nipples that harden at his grinding touch. “Toji, wait, please wait…Do you really mean—“

“Mhmm, I do,” He coos, and a kiss to your neck nearly has you give way and lose balance; lucky for you, Toji was smart enough to have a leg between yours. “Now that I have you here, I’ll prove it.”

“We’re—Ahhnnn…But we’re in the men’s locker room,” Toji brings his face up to look at you, your half-lidded eyes locked with his emerald orbs. “Someone could see us…”

Your worries are taken with a caress to your cheek. “Don’t worry about other people when y’re with me. I gotcha, baby.”

“And I’m…Ohooo, really sweaty…”

“Nothin’ a shower can’t fix.”

And before you refute him again, Toji places his scarred lips onto yours, a shocked moan muffled as he kisses and sucks on your bottom lip. The hand in your bra now positions to the back of your neck, positioning you for him to deepen the kiss once you allow him access to your mouth. And once you kiss him back, all the reins of restraint have been discarded along with your hoodie to the floor.

The sounds of lips smacking get louder by the second, the passion in the kiss unraveling when you bring your hands to cup his cheek and have his face practically glued to yours. And Toji complies, shoving his tongue to tease and play with yours. The hand that was on your waist comes down to your ass for him to grope with the flesh, urging more of your sobs to be taken from him. Is it possible for your brain to turn into mush from a kiss? You’re finding that out now, breaking the kiss to gather whatever air you can before Toji claims your lips again.

The leg you’re riding on is nestled between your thighs, rubbing against the groin of your shorts. With every kiss and hump comes a grind on his leg, and it alleviates the growing ache that’s flourishing in your panties. Shivers travel up your spine and heighten your horniness, this elated feeling so dangerous that you could turn into putty at any second.

Toji lets go of your lips with a heavy pant, breathlessly snickering at his work; turning his cute client into a mess flipped a switch he’s been dying to indulge with. “Mmmm, y’re too fuckin’ cute, baby,” he wipes your mouth before letting you go; you hold back a whine when he removes his warm figure from you and steps back. It’s then that your instructor finally removes the towel that’s been shielding a now-discernible tent. The white towel meets the floor, and you follow his happy trail to meet with his erection, a sight that makes your jaw drop. The older man takes a seat on the bench behind him, and his legs spread out for his dick and balls to be ever-so-present and seen.

“Ya see how crazy you and y’r body make me?” He bites his lip, getting more turned on with you marveling at him and his length. “C’mere, angel, lemme see what you can do.” It takes a good mental slap to snap out of your frozen state and look at the thing you’ve been imagining all these months. Now, when the chance has finally been brought to you, how could you pass this up? Following Toji’s command, you come close and go to your knees between his legs.

The sheer size and girth of his length nearly put you in a trance, your eyes taking every detail of his erection before your eyes. Every dent and curve, the prominent veins from the underside, and the oddly pretty pink tip where bits of precum dare protrude from the urethra. Your raised hand has hesitance, yet Toji is quick to assuage your unease, taking your hand with his and wrapping it on his cock. The rough skin on your palm hitches your breath, “Hmmm, oh fuck. Yeah, just like that, princess.”

And there he goes again, egging you on with more cute pet names. Your hand slides up and down along his shaft from the tip to the base, and the sensation of its veins is so raunchy for your overwhelmed fingertips. Toji’s gruff hums to your touches stick to your ears the most, a sound you never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be lucky enough to hear. You want to keep hearing them, want them to be stored in your memory for as long as you can. And when you meekly tease his glans with a tiny lick, the hiss he expresses turns you on even more, so much so that you take the tip with patience and start to suck.

Toji throws his head back to the lockers behind him; the feeling of your tongue rolling around his girth as you inhale his cock is crazy. Fuck, it felt so good – he has to fight the urge to rut into your hollow cheeks and puffy lips. “Hahhh…Mmmm, damn….Ahahaha, ya know how to use that mouth of y’rs, Y/n. Keep suckin’ me off like that, and I’ll—Ohhh! Shit, shit, shiiiit,” he wasn’t prepared for you to take in his entire erection to the hilt. The tightness of your throat around him sends shivers, having to use the bench to grip onto.

You bob your head along his length, a hand accompanying the motions to further the exhilaration. Spit and come wet your palm, yet you’re too focused on the task to care, the haze of your brain increasing every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. The jerk of his hips entails that you’re doing a good job, Toji bringing a hand to the back of your head when you kiss and lick on the head of his cock. You take note, assuming that it’s his weak spot, and continue to suck and tease the tip some more, massaging his testicles which almost had him choke.

“—Hnnmph! Fuckin’ shit, I can’t…” Toji then has enough of this ribbing pleasure, unable to hold it anymore. With a careful hold on your skull, he stands from the bench and plows your face with his member. The harsh hit of his hips propelling his dick down to the deep crevices of your throat was sudden; the assault on your uvula results in your gag reflex; however, Toji was here to calm you down, “It’s alright, angel, breathe fr’ me.” He caters to you with a mediocre rhythm to the hips, the movement relieving the abrupt stress to your throat as you hum on his cock. You find purchase on his thighs to stabilize yourself while he plays with you orally, dialing up the pumps to your mouth until it reaches an erratic mood. Fuck, it has your head ringing, but the growing twinges and throbs between your legs practically excite you for more. Goddamn, it feels so good. So fucking good. “Jesus Christ—Y/n, I’m ‘bout to cum. Keep swirlin’ that tongue…Nnmmm, fuuck, right there, right there—Ahhhck!!”

His release comes with a few rough hits to your lips, his balls hitting your chin until they’re pressed against it. He pups his load into you, and you take it like a champ, letting the fluid venture down as the girth pulsates around your walls. His choked breathing eventually simmers down, giving it a few long seconds before he steadily removes himself from your warm cavity. The last remnants of his white substance paint your tongue, your saliva coating him. And with a voluntary swallow, you open your mouth again to showcase your clean change.

“Heh, didn’t even have to tell you,” Toji chortles, bringing a thumb to wipe your chin. “Good girl.”

KA-CHA! CREEEEK!!

Wide green eyes shoot wide along with yours, and the both of you go frozen rigid. That was most definitely the sound of a door opening. The door to the men’s locker room, where you are on your knees, in front of your personal instructor, with his dick out for the whole world to see. The blood in your body runs cold, and your stomach drops to the chilly floor. Oh, it’s over. It’s done. Your life is officially coming to an end. Welp, it’s time for me to think of a good suicide note when I get home and—

Pause on that. Because one moment you were thinking of your demise from this discomfiting situation, next you’re being dragged by Toji to the other part of the locker room, the showers. He swiftly opens a curtain and throws you both inside with a close, and the wet tiles soaked to your socks have you cringe, so you take them off.

“Hello?” It’s a guy’s voice, of course — Ino’s. The young man is probably inspecting the male locker rooms before they close for the night like usual. You don’t dare speak so much as a letter when the footsteps draw closer to the showers, your heart rate spiking to a nervous high, and your breathing shallow. This is worse; now you’re in a confined space, face-to-face with Toji, who is utterly nude, towel left back on the bench. Your eyes locked with his, and your ears to the sounds of shoes entering the plane. “Anyone here? Saw some stuff at the front.”

“Yeah, I’m here,” your expression turns to sheer terror, wide orbs looking at the raven-haired man who spoke. No! Why would you say something!?

“Hmm? Toji, that you?” Ino’s voice comes closer, in front of the shower curtain that shields you from his field of vision. Your heart is on the verge of dropping to your intestines. “You’re still here? Figured you’d be home by now.”

“Nah, I’m still here. Just about to finish up and head out.” Toji then turns on the faucet, cold peeps of water hitting your sweaty skin, panties, and sports bra. And, of course, it catches you off guard. OH FUUUUUU— You don’t scream. You can’t. Instead, you shield your mouth and turn your back to Toji after giving him the most outstanding death glare of your life, which the older finds amusement in. You wipe your face from the water, cursing internally at this entire predicament.

“Oh, okay, cool. I was just worried someone left their stuff on that bench over there. Carry on, and have a good night!” Ino dismisses himself and leaves the showers, and you exhale a silent sigh of relief. Oh, thank goodness…

Toji, on the other hand, sees your relieved state, and he can’t help but grin to himself with what he’s about to do. Moving closer to you, he brings his wet hands to your sports bra and immediately goes to fondling your breasts. A moan sneaks past you at the contact, prompting him to grope you even more. “T–Toji,” the water gradually gets warmer, juxtaposing with his cold fingers. “Stop, we have to leave, this is—Ohooo…” He tweaks your nipples with his forefinger and thumbs, and a leg sneaks in between yours.

“Relax, dollface, it’s just you and me here,” Oh, sweet Lord, you almost fell to your knees when he whispered to your ear and a teasing lick to your helix. “Got ya all to myself, now…” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, his wet hair brushing your cheek while he snakes his hand down into your panties. The way his fingers graze your clit again has you arch your back to him, another hushed shriek when he bullies his way between your folds.

“Hey, Toji?” Ino’s voice again. Back to anxious stakes now that Toji’s toying with you. Goddamn it, Ino! What are you still doing here!? “I noticed you left your towel on the bench over there. But I also saw Y/n’s hoodie there.” Oh, fuck me!! Shit, shit, shit—"Ohhmph!!"

With quickness, you covered your mouth before your moan caught the ears of the front desk employee. And the reason for that is that Toji pulled down your soaked underwear and gave your chasm a sudden lick. If Ino weren’t back here, you’d give your personal trainer the nastiest kick to the throat you could ever do. But when he inserts a finger inside you, your aggression withered away in seconds.

“Huh? Ohh, yeah, ‘bout that,” Toji stands back up and continues to finger you, chuckling at the sight of your trembling figure using the wall as leverage. “I saw ‘em before headin’ to the locker room. We talked for a while, but then they said they needed to change and told me to hold their hoodie for ‘em.” He says it so casually, all the while scraping your inner walls with the tip of his forefinger, summoning hushed cries that turn to silent screams when his free hand comes down to playfully pinch and press on your clitoris. God, this is too much torture for one night.

Ino keeps questioning. “Really? I had someone check the other locker rooms, and she said she didn’t see anyone or anything except for a few personal items and leggings in one of the lockers. I’m guessing those would be Y/n’s, but where could they be?” Little did he know that you were just a curtain pull away from being found, chewing hard on your lip to quash your screams from the erratic swiping on your clit and the curving hits of his digits in your wetness.

“Mmmm, they probably are at another part of the gym or waitin’ for me at the front.” He lies effortlessly, yet his attention is still on you as he removes his fingers from you, the pleasure subsiding from the removal. Instead, he brings his erection in between your folds and humps you, and the feeling of his dick on your lips worsens the throbs in your awaiting cunt. With the heat coming from the shower and your uneven breaths, you’re bound to faint at any moment.

“Ahh, makes sense. Alright, I’ll try and find them then,” you don’t say anything, just hesitant breaths when you feel the tip of Toji’s cock align and lightly push to your slick-coated entrance. Holy fuck, this is actually happening! Your lips quiver when Toji comes down to your ear to tell you to relax your body from tension, quietly maneuvering you by pulling your lower half to him. You do big inhales and exhales while the man pushes his cockhead to enter your cunt, wincing at the few seconds of pain that accompany each push. “See you later, Toji, and I put your towel on the hood next to your shower for when you’re done. Good night!”

“See ya.” And with Toji’s dismissal, Ino’s footsteps draw farther and farther from where you two are. And the moment you hear the locker room door slam close, Toji pushes the entire cockhead inside of you. Finally, you can squeal out to your heart’s content, balling your fists on the shower wall while your personal trainer wedges his length inside of you and stretches your walls. The girth was definitely something you knew would be an obstacle to accommodate, and it’s worse when your slit keeps clamping around the foreign limb invading inside. Tears begin to swell from the stinging touch, not that they would be distinguished by the shower water hitting behind you and Toji.

“Haahh, ahahhnn, mmmm,” Your wails seep out from your system right as the base of his cock kisses your lower region lips. And after a few seconds, he starts with a slow pace. Knowing that you can feel every dent and vein within you is insane to comprehend; the heat across your cheeks cranks up due to the euphoric sensations. “Ohhhh, my God, Tojiii. I’m so full…”

Toji pecks on your shoulder, “Yeah, sweet thing? I bet so. Just be a good girl and keep grippin’ on me like that, alright? Gonna start movin’ now…” His hips rut into your vagina, pulling his shaft slowly outward and rushing it back inward. Holy shit, it felt so dreamlike — having him actually move inside of you. But it was very much real; having his pelvis meeting the flesh of your ass was proof of such.

A hand snakes down to your clitoris, and a gasp leaves your lips at the brush of his thumb rubbing against it. Your legs tremble at the flick of his finger on your bud, and the pace of his thrusts crank up in speed, making it hard to concentrate on one thing. So many senses are being activated all at once; the shower water raining down on your back, the exhilarating combination of Toji’s dick grinding down on your insides, and the swipes and pinches on your precious clitoris. God, it was all too much.

“Arch some more fr’ me, princess,” Toji gets up to push your back further down, the walls of your chasm clinging onto him as the more exposed opening gives room for you to be plowed. “Hnnmm, shit, feels so good…Hey, let’s try somethin’ different.”

By the time the last bit of his sentence could be registered, he already had you turned to face him, folding your arms around his neck. You didn’t know what for until he hoisted you up, and then you instinctively grabbed hold for dear life before your back hit the wall, your legs wrapped around him while he held you by the thighs. Toji brings his member back to your labia to insert it back inside, and you two moan at the contact again. Oh, this was different – never have you been lifted like this. And to be elevated by your gym crush, in this connotation, is enough to have you appalled.

But what made your breath hitch the most was Toji’s face being up close and personal. The bangs stuck to his forehead thanks to the shower water; his jet-black hair was wet and slicked. Trails flow down his face, drops of water plummeting from his nose and chin. And – oh, sweet Jesus – those green eyes of his, so striking as if they could pierce right through you. They were piercing through you. He took in your expression just as you were his, eyes filled with wanton desire, and it was all directed towards you – for you. He flashes a small smile, teeth peeking from beneath his scarred lips.

Oh, my God. You turn to the side to hide your face from his gaze; it definitely wasn’t the water that was making your cheeks and ears hot at that moment. But that didn’t fly with Toji. He sneaks into a rut that has you jump on his cock, the new position giving his dick an angle to hit your cervix. Because of that, the jab erupts a shriek you had no preparation for withholding.

“Heh, aht, aht, don’t do that,” Oh, he knows he’s in control of this entire situation; you can hear it in his patronizing chortle. “Don’t hide that pretty face from me, doll,” he kisses your cheek and trails down to the crook of your neck. “Let me hear you—Aiishhh! Oh, fuuck…”

Once Toji begins to jerk his hips to you, you dwell into a pleasure that you never knew existed. Toji’s length scrapes your inner walls like crazy, like a euphoric itch. The fact that you’re bouncing on the cock of your personal trainer is scary to comprehend. Having him see you like this, hearing you moan and wail for him, you never felt more exposed in your entire life. And also, him holding you like you weigh nothing and fucking you in the men’s locker room showers?! What the actual fuck!? This is actually so embarrassing – I could die!

But why would you? The commotion between your legs feels way too good to bring this to a stop – you two are already joined in a union, so why stop? Every stroke to your slit sends a shiver up your spine, clamping onto him every time he brushes up on your sweet spots that make your nerves tingle. And the occasional jabs to your tender cervix? Damn, the stimulation was enough to have you faint with the heat growing tenfold.

“Mmmff, hoohhh, ohhhhh,” your cries are drowned out by the shower, only heard by Toji. Speaking of, this position gives you proximity to observe his expression. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes shut as if he’s in the zone. The huffs of breath he takes with every roll of his pelvis are so hot to the ear that you wouldn’t mind listening to them all day. Anytime the walls of your wetness clamp onto him, he moans and hushed curses at the feeling of you wanting him. He’s an attractive man, but, holy fuck, this was a sight you thought you’d never see in a million years.

“—Khhhh! Hnmph, ahhhh,” Through the gruff pants, Toji opens his eyes half-lidded, catching you in the moment of staring right at him. You clench onto him; why does this man have to look so fucking sexy!? He smirks, “How we feelin’ now, baby?”

“Hahhh, I–I’m—Ohhh!! Fucking shiiiitt,” you cry out when he slams deep into you, making your toes curl, and your words come out in slurs. “It’s too muuchh, Tojiii, ughhh!! T–Tooo muuuuch…”

“Ya gettin’ close?” Oh, yes, you were. You could feel it through the trembles climbing up your fibers. Your brows trench at the high, and Toji was mean enough to sneak a pinch to the clitoris without you noticing. Your legs tighten around his waist, and you shake your head hurriedly. He chuckles, releasing your clit from his rough fingers and putting his forehead to yours. “C’mon, angel, I won’t know what you want if ya don’t say it.”

Fuck, he’s such a meanie. You love it so fucking much. You mewl to him, “Pleaseee, Tojiii, I want it so bad!”

He lifts a brow. “Want what?”

“—To cum!! Pleasepleaseee, I wanna cum on you, I want it—Ahaahhnn!!” Fuck, it’s coming. Almost there.

That’s all he needed to hear, the grin on his face broadening at your response. “Cum on me, then. I’m right here to catch ya, princess.” His hand returns to your clitoris, pressing down on the delicate button to the point where all he can hear is your sweet screams of lust. His thrusts now get erratically fast, having you rebound to the hilt of his length, the smacks of skin slapping against each other fill the confined space of the shower. And the climb of your aroused high increases until it comes crashing down; you let out one last howl as the electric shocks course through your body, and your release is freed. Your walls squeeze hard onto Toji as you indulge in your climax; him pistoning his cock to your sensitive labia adds to the chilling sensitivity. Your cunt flutters around his cock while you experience your crescendo, your eyes screwed shut to enhance the experience, not aware of Toji watching you ride out your orgasm on him.

The trembles calm down, the shocks subside, and your breathing descends into a steady rhythm. Throwing your head back, you rest your back against the wall while still in Toji’s hold, using this time to indulge yourself in this moment of clarity.

Toji lets out a tiny laugh, bringing his face to your neck to suck on it. “That felt good, sweet thing?” You sigh out of breath, nodding to his question. “Hmmm, good. But ya know I’m not done, right?” Your blood ran cold, your body rigid still. Wait, huh? “I let you have your fun, so be a good girl, and lemme have mine.”

The involuntary twitch of your slit should give you a clue as to how the news hit you, and you can't tell if it'll be him or the shower that will have you melting like a puddle by the time this is over...

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Haibara walks out to the front desk, where Ino hurriedly stuffs his phone back into his pocket, away from his superior’s eyes. Fortunately for the younger man, the older one didn’t see his device. “Hey, Ino, I got a question.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” The associate fidgets with his brown hair under his rolled-up ski mask.

“Have you seen Mr. Fushiguro and Y/n today? Toji told me he couldn’t make it for Monday night, but I haven’t seen Y/n that day or Wednesday.” The older brunette looks around to find any resembling cues, but his eyes see nothing that sparks familiarity.

Ino blinks before answering. “No. And now that you mention it, I haven’t seen or heard from them since last week…”

Haibara leans on the desk and sighs. “Hope Y/n’s doing all right. Usually, they’d call or shoot a text telling me they couldn’t make it for their appointments with Fushiguro. But this is twice where neither of them show up.”

“Hmm, can’t say I have an idea.” The other shrugs at his superior’s concerns. “I didn’t get a call or text from Y/n either, so maybe I’ll give ‘em one after my shift. Heh. Let’s hope they didn’t replace us with another gym.”

With trenched brows, Haibara took offense to the younger brunette’s words. “Cut that out, man! I’d be pretty upset if they just suddenly stopped showing up here. Half a year of coming in and out and getting to know each other, only for them to just vanish like that…At the very least, they could give a call!” He passionately bangs on the front desk, giving Ino a startle.

RING-RING-RING!! RING-RING-RING!!

The two froze at the sudden ring of the desk phone as if Haibara’s fist magically granted them a call. And by the exchanged glances they shared before Ino picked up the phone, they better hope it wasn’t the call they were expecting. “Hello, this is Golden Gate Gym. My name is Takuma Ino; what can I do for you?”

“Hey, is that you, Ino?”

“Hey, Y/n!” Ino turns to Haibara, whose eyes share the same perplexity as his. “It’s good to hear from you; where’ve you been? You’ve been MIA for almost a week.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I had a little accident and sprained my ankle; I couldn’t come to the gym on Monday and Wednesday.”

“Oh, shit, for real?” Haibara watched the younger man’s tone change to concern, which didn’t help his nerves either. “Sorry to hear about that, but it’s a good call not coming here and taking care of yourself.”

“Yeah, thanks. Is Haibara there with you by any chance?”

“Uh, yeah. He’s right next to me, actually.” Ino takes the initiative to give the darker brunette the phone to speak with the one on the other side of the line. Haibara outstretches his arm to take the phone and put the receiving end to his ear. “Yo, Y/n!”

“Hey, Haihai. I meant to call you Wednesday, but I’m letting you know that Mr. Fushiguro and I are still doing our weekly appointments.”

Haibara sighs in relief internally, giving Ino a thumbs up. “Oh, thank God! You two had me worried there for a second. We didn’t see you guys here and thought you’d be a no-show again.”

“Yeah, sorry for the scare. Mr. Fushiguro found out about it and decided it would be….Haahhh….best for me to do my regimine at my apartment instead…”

“Well, that’s nice of him to look out for you with your ankle. I’m sure he’s doing what he can to—“

“Ahaahhnn!!”

A sudden yelp pops into the call out of nowhere and completely takes Haibara aback from the phone as if it was so out of place for the topic that was taking place. Ino notices it when the darker brunette gives him a brief perplexed look, which the younger shrugs at. “Uhh, Y/n? You busy right now?”

Oh, you were busy, all right. You’re at your apartment right now. Your ankle? Absolutely fine, nothing wrong about it in the slightest. The only change, however, is not being at the gym for this entire week and staying home instead. Why?

How about asking your personal trainer who has you propped upside down, standing up with his hands holding you by your ass, stuffing his face to your exposed cunt which he licks and sucks on. The feeling of his tongue digging through your labia has your hips jerking, but his strong arms exhibit unmoving effort in keeping your wetness in his mouth. His pants down to his knees, and his erect length in your hand and brushing your cheek. This is most definitely not the at-home exercise that Haibara is thinking of.

“…Hello?…Y/n, you there?”

Oh, shit! “Y–Yeah, I’m here! Sorry, my ankle is acting up on me—Ohhhh…Fushiguro’s looking at it for me…” Oh, please, he’s not checking shit; fucker indulging himself between your asscheecks, ravishing your folds like a sweet fruit to his tastebuds.

“Oh! So you two are exercising together right now?” Toji nibbles on your vagina and grazes with his teeth, having you gasp and twitch. His tongue surprising your clit prompts a choked whine. “That’s good to know then! Alright then, see you guys when you’re ready to return to the gym. And tell Toji not to put too much on you, ya hear?”

“—Khhhh, mhmm…I’ll give him an earful for you. See you later, Haibara…”

“Great, see ya. Happy Friday!”

And with that farewell, you can finally toss the phone down and coo to your heart’s content, biting your lips at Toji stuffing his mouth on your bare chasm; his muffled groans vibrate your lower half like crazy. “Ohhooo!! Ohhhfuckkk, I’m gonna cumm,” your words slur with a suck to your clitoris, your hips bucking involuntarily. “Lemme cum, Tojiiii, I wanna—Ahaaaa!!”

He removes his face from your ass with an exhale as if he was dying for breath. But based on the grin plastered on his face, he wouldn’t mind being in this position for a little while. “Oh, I don’t think so, doll. I don’t think ya deserve to cum in my mouth.”

That was the last thing you wanted to hear right now. “Ahahnn!! You’re such an asshole, Toji…”

He chuckles crudely. “That’s where I’m gonna play with next if you don’t stuff my dick in that pretty mouth of y’rs already. Suck me good; then maybe I’ll let the princess cum all over me.”

Broad strokes from his pelvis rub his dick on your cheek, a reminder of your part of this endeavor that you must partake in. The smell of him overwhelms your nostrils into a pornographic trance, your head pounding just from looking at it. You gulp and take the tip into your mouth, sucking and licking the precum off while your hands glide up and down his shaft. “Good girl, good girl…” Toji goes back to smacking his lips on your folds, moving his tongue in whirlpool motions that have you moaning on his cock. God, it feels so good, so fucking good. You can see yourself becoming addicted to this, and that’s a bit scary seeing this professional relationship drift to something more touchy and personal…

…But then again, there’s nothing wrong with that, right?

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