Wingman
Fandom: My Hero Academia,
Warnings: Kaminari is an insecure idiot, Breeding, Oral(ish), Light Choking, V. v. v Slight FemDom, Saturnari Coded.
Word Count: 7.5k.
Summary: Kaminari has always been the wingman, but with you, he wants to be anything but...
Coming out tonight was a bad idea.
Through some miracle, the whole gang has managed to swing the same night off, a rarity that Kaminari should be enjoying, but even as he watches all his friends cut loose, he can't say he shares in their excitement.
Slouched in the back of a booth, he nurses his fourth drink. It had taken almost twenty minutes to convince everyone to go have fun without him. He'd fed them all the usual excuses – that he was tired, his new shoes where a touch tight, he was too busy scouting for girls and didn't want them hanging around to ruin his vibe. It had been the last one that had sold it, which was ironic. Kaminari shifts to itch the back of his calf with the point of a shoe. He'd be okay here, camped out in the corner with nothing, but a drink and a sinking sense of disappointment.
In the middle of the club, Kirishima has his arms wrapped around Bakugo's neck. His nose is pressed to his cheek, lips barely a millimetre from pale skin as to better whisper low to him. Around them, a steady flow of interceptors try, and fail, to slip between them.
Sero is at the bar. He leans lazily against it, an elbow dug into hardwood at an angle that just lets him hold his drink without dropping it. Already, there's a semi-circle of women around him. They touch him in the absent way one touches something they want to own. He doesn't stop their advances.
Somewhere out there is Mina, too, but she moves too quick to spot. Flitting between groups of people, she dazzles anyone who so much as glances in her direction without pausing to tarry on just one conquest.
Then... There's you.
Kaminari finds his gaze drifting, naturally, until he finds you. He's just keeping an eye on you. Or, at least that's what he's telling himself. He can see Sero looking too, and the occasional glances Bakugo spares you before he's twirled away and forced to break his line of sight. Mina, as well, he's seen it and even though Kirishima thinks he's being subtle, he's not.
He wonders which of them you want. Which you'd let take you home and touch, delicate, against your skin. You could have any of them, that much is for sure, but that doesn't stop the acidic burn that washes his throat when he thinks about his own odds. With friends like his, Kaminari has long since come to terms with always being the last choice.
'Kami!' You slip into the booth ass first and almost, almost, lose an inch of your gin. Righting the glass, you tap your shoulder playfully against his, reveling in the way the muscle of his bicep twitches with the contact.
Kaminari sighs, running a finger around the lip of his glass. At this point, he figures it'll just be less painful to beat you to the punch. 'So go on.' He fixes his smile back into place, erasing the edges of a frown and looks out at the mess of people on the dance floor. 'Who's your type?'
'Huh?'
'Which one?' He pretends to have already suffocated the wisp of hope alight in his chest and forces a chuckle up his throat. He wiggles his eyebrows at you while almost white-knuckling his drink. 'Because Sero'll take you home like yesterday, but he's got metal in his... Y'know, so if that's not your bag you might want to try one of the other two... Maybe, both?' He cocks his head, smirks without the mirth. 'Or, fuck, do you want Mina's number?' His intonation spikes towards the end, curiosity and panic bleeding into his tone.
'I don't want any of them...' You frown and shake your head, moving to lay a hand on his shoulder, but just before your fingers can play against the cuff of his t-shirt, he moves.
'C'mon. You don't have to play coy with me.' Shoulders tensing, he tries to steady the beating of his heart. The small fire in his chest is still kindling, burning hope bright and sure. Best not to let you touch him until it's extinguished then - he'd only be letting himself get the wrong idea. 'I am supposed to be the wingman and all that...'
'Kaminari.' His ignorance is endearing. There's a pinkness on his cheeks that makes you want to kiss them, but you'll have to get to the root of the reason he won't let you get close if you're looking to live out that fantasy.
Unperturbed, Kaminari continues on with each of his words stinging like small splinters wedged under his skin. It's not like he hasn't done this before, helped one of his friends hook up with the object of his desire, but you – you're different. He likes you. 'Personally, I'd say try your luck with Kirishima first if you're not up for handling a bit of a brat, Bakugo can be -.'
'Kaminari -.'
'And Mina! Well, Mina's...'
'Kaminari, I don't want any of them.'
Kaminari tenses. No. Don't do that. He doesn't want you to fan the flames, doesn't think he can take being swallowed alive by that fire tonight. The tone that lifts from his tongue is sharp, cracking like a whip between you. 'I said you don't have to do that -.'
It only makes you smile. 'Denki...' You coo. Then, when he tucks his chin to his chest, you lift it with a finger and force him to look: to see.
'Baby.'
'Huh?'
'I said.' You keep hold of his chin and make him watch your mouth as you speak, enunciating every word as clearly as you can. 'I don't want any of them...'
'Oh...' He nods despite having not digested any of your words. Until... His jaw drops, mouth rounding. 'Oh.'
The tip of his nose has pinkened, glowing soft in the dim lights of the club and his eyes are shining, golden half-moons bright as they flicker subconsciously from your eyes to your lips and then back again.
Cocking your head, you chuckle. 'You can't really expect me to buy that you don't know when you're being hit on?'
'I – Women don't usually...' He trails off as embarrassment coils low in his gut. Once upon a time, he'd fancied himself a ladies man, but by the end of high-school he'd been made aware that promiscuity was simply a dream for him. He'd been the last to lose his virginity and even then, he's pretty sure Camie fucked him out of pity. A familiar swirl of uneasiness whips around his stomach as the ever-present tendrils of insecurity wiggle and twist. 'I mean – Have you seen my friends?'
You snort, refusing to give him an inch. 'Have you seen yourself?'
You laugh and Kaminari thinks he'll never have to listen to music again. 'I don't – I'm not.'
Shaking your head, you press a finger to his lips and smirk. 'Mr. If I hear one more stupid thing fall out of your mouth I'm gonna have to kiss it.'
He chuffs before he's able to stop it, one million dull insults swelling in his chest. He never was good at saying the right thing and people have always been too keen to point it out. 'Gonna be kissing me a lot then.'
'Yeah?' A pleasant warmth spreads through your chest at the thought of stealing multiple of his kisses. It makes your shoulders tight and your stomach feel light.
Kaminari nods. 'They don't call me Dunce Face for -.'
You cut him off with a kiss. Just as you'd promised. It's a soft thing, a barely-there graze of lips, but he reels back from it almost breath-taken. Reaching up, you play with a strand of blond falling from his fringe and wait, patiently for his brain to catch up with the situation. Truth be told, you've had your eye on Kaminari for a while, but when even your blatant flirting at the last squad BBQ hadn't been enough to convince him of your interest, you'd decided to take more divisive measures.
An airy chuckle breaks Kaminari's lips. 'I might have to say stupid stuff more often, because – mmhmph.'
You kiss him again.
'I don't just get kisses when I say something stupid though, do I -.'
And again.
This time, he lets himself sink. He's still not really sure what's going on. Maybe one of the others put you up to this, to make this night one to remember – but, as your mouth migrates from his lips to the corner of his mouth, his cheek, and neck, he struggles to dwell on whatever scheme has lead to him being here. A dull pressure slips easily up his thigh, skating over the ripped denim of his jeans until he can feel your fingers curl at the join of his thigh. Spit sticks in his throat, his hands instinctively reaching out to touch, to curl around your arm and hip. 'I -.' He reels back with a heaving chest. The words tumbling from his mouth before he can catch them. 'I can't – don't – I don't want...'
You flinch back as if burnt.
The absence of your body crowding against his makes his entire chest feel cold, but he pushes on, tripping over his thoughts as he goes. 'I – fuck – Okay. So I think, I think you're... I think you're so fucking pretty, like wow, like holy shit you're – you're incredible, okay, but I don't... I can't, if you...' He looks down, then back up at where Sero is standing at the bar.
The other man looks at him, cocks an eyebrow and smirks, just enough to still seem nonchalant.
'If you're looking for a one night stand or something, then – then you're better off taking Sero home.' Squeezing an eye shut, he braces for impact – ignoring the pain that flares in his chest when he thinks of you slipping back out of the booth. He's gotten a taste now. He's not sure how he's supposed to ever forget about that.
'Kaminari, you fucking moron.' You blink and shake your head, ignoring the flittering anger that bubbles steady in your chest.
'Huh?' Cocking his head, Kaminari is almost wounded by the idea that – should he not feel as though he's just stumbled into something remarkably more serious – he'd be getting a kiss for whatever idiocy has just fallen out of his mouth.
You shove him. 'Who said I was just trying to fuck you – you -.'
'But -.'
'Do I really need to say it out loud? Do you want me to write it down? Text it to you?'
Kaminari feels something close to panic flood his veins as he watches disbelief wash clean over your features. 'I don't – When...'
'I could not have been any more obvious. I was practically falling over you at the barbecue. Kirishima's mums wouldn't stop saying how much of a cute couple we where...' Shaking your head, you widen your eyes and shout even louder over the music. '… You went along with it! I asked you to be my date to Bakugo's fucking award show last fucking week... I thought you -' A dizziness plants itself at the base of your skull. Honestly, you'd thought you'd been playing the long game. Convincing him of his worthiness, of your interest, but now... Now you're starting to think all of that energy might have gone to waste.
Kaminari blinks. 'You weren't just...' He swallows as something squirms in his stomach. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd misunderstood someone's intentions. Fuck, his and Momo's entire friendship is built off of the fact that he thought she'd been flirting with him and not just adopting him as some kind of awkward best-friend, who she could gossip with and put make-up on when she got bored. That had been one Hell of an awkward conversation. He can still remember how sweet she'd been when he'd slipped a hand onto her knee, how she'd cooed at him and apologised for giving him the wrong impression. It had been humiliating. Even if he did manage to swing a pretty amazing friend out of it.
'Just what?'
'Just being nice.'
You shake your head, still somewhat perplexed. 'No, Denki, I'm not just being nice. You ever see me pull that shit with anyone else?'
It feels as though someone has just doused gasoline onto the fire in his chest. Hope wraps itself around his lungs and squeezes until he has no other option other than to haul in a shallow breath. 'No.'
Huffing, you chew on your lip and fix him with a stare, eyebrows raising on your forehead. 'Exactly, and if I have my way, I'll be one Hell of a lot nicer.'
With his tongue stuck to the basin of his mouth, Kaminari summons the strength to mutter a soft: 'Really?' Already his body has broken out in a chill. Anticipation uses his spine as a ladder, causing the muscle of his back to tense and straighten his posture.
'Mmmhmm.' Leaning forward, you plant your elbows on the table and push your tits together. You don't miss how his Adam's apple bobs, or the way he finds himself unable to drag his eyes back up from your cleavage. 'So... You gonna let me be nicer to you, Kaminari?'
'It's – it's a bit of a mess, I – uh...'
You barely allow Kaminari to shut the door before you have him pressed against it. Your hands reach out to cup his face, fingers touching soft as they curl around the back of his neck and thread softly into the hair at the base of his skull. 'I don't care that you haven't cleaned up, Denki.'
He chuckles, disbelief and excitement mixing together in the basin of his throat as he his hands ball to fists at his sides. Static fills his joints. There's so much energy bubbling up inside of him that he doesn't quite know what to do with it. It zips through him, paralysing and energising in equal measure as he loses himself to your touch.
'I...' Swallowing, he leans forward until his forehead touches against yours. It grounds him, combines with the dull scratching of your nails on his scalp and lets him breathe. 'I really – Fuck, I can't believe this is happening.'
You laugh, eyes fluttering shut for a second as you bask in his gaze. You're not sure if he knows he's doing it, but Kaminari looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing in the world. Large, luminescent irises highlight his adoration, spotlighting every inch of you as his eyes flicker from yours, to your lips, to the dip of your collarbones. 'Yeah...' You huff. 'Well best start believing.'
It's a messy stumble to his bedroom, a mix of uncoordinated limbs and hot, open-mouthed kisses. His hands are everywhere and greedy, grabbing at anything he can: the small of your back, your waist, your ass.
'Oh, shit...' He mumbles against your lips, already drunk and pulls back just enough to catch your eye. 'Is that...' Licking his lips he raises a hand to his own mouth and tests the stickiness there. 'Is that strawberry?'
Nodding, you subconsciously let your tongue dart out to taste. The gloss is barely tacky, almost gone from Denki's assault. Instead, you can see it on his lips – the faint shimmering of pale pink that glitters in the low light. If you kissed him again now, you're sure you'd be able to taste it too.
'It's nice.' He chuckles, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.
Humming, you wrap a palm around the back of his neck and pull him in close, feeling his breath on your cheeks. 'Yeah?' It feels juvenile, getting butterflies over the evidence of your kiss, but there's no denying the pins and needles that perforate the insides of your lungs.
'Yeah....' There's a smile tugging at his lip. The steadily darkening of his cheeks suits him, makes the cool gold in his eyes stand out, alive and clear, against the burning plain of his features. What starts out as a small fire ignited on the high of his cheek bones is soon scorched earth across much of his nose, reaching to the peak of his chin. The joy makes him look boyish. Distractingly handsome as he erupts into another foray of half-digested laughter.
Leaning in, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and taste strawberries. It mixes with something harsher, the spirit he had been so easily tipping down his throat back in the club; but underneath the tart and fruit mixture all you can taste is undeniably: him.
It's a stray trainer and the edge of Denki's oddly coloured purple mattress that is your eventual undoing. You'd been too lost in each other to notice that the slow push of small steps backwards had run it's course, leaving little room for anything other than a fall.
You go down hard.
Denki hits the mattress first, his back concave, arms stretching up to pull you close before you'd even managed to feel the bite of the connection. He reaches up, brushing his fingers across your cheeks as if to check for injuries he knows you don't have.
'Isn't this the part where you ask me if it hurt when I fell?' You have to purse your lips to stop yourself from laughing, but it doesn't work.
The noise is infectious, making him break out too. 'I don't know about you, but it fucking hurt me.'
Kissing his nose, you carefully spread your legs to bracket his hips and push up, until you can hover over him with your hands denting the mattress at either side of his head. 'Always knew you'd fall for me, eventually.'
He rolls his eyes, but blushes deeper. Cupping your chin, he rubs a thumb across your jaw. 'I never thought you'd fall too, though.'
'Less of that.' Sitting up, you playfully slap at his shoulder before letting your hands skate down the sides of his arms. When you reach his wrists, you take hold of him and list, encouraging his palms to find a place on your thighs. Shivering at his touch, you swallow a smile.
'Touch me.'
As soon as the hold on his wrists loosens, his hands start to shake. Left to his own devices he finds himself torn, eyes eating away greedily at your body as he decides just where to lay his hands first. 'Can I...' His voice shakes, nerves soaking into the back of his tongue as he hooks a finger around the top of your dress. 'Can I take this off?'
Rolling your shoulders, you nod. You can feel the flex of his stomach muscles underneath you as he curls himself into a half-crunch to reach you. His hands skate across your shoulders, fingers catching on the thin material of the straps as he gently, slowly, encourages them down your arms.
There's something caught in his throat as he watches the material slide. It slinks down your skin, stretching around the width of your shoulders before coming back together when you pinch your elbows in towards your core.
You let the material bunch around your waist, exposing your chest to the air as you perch In his lap. Already, the cold has your nipples pebbling, rising to the air as the faint buzz of arousal continues to make a mockery of your nervous system.
'Sh – Shit.' He breathes. His hands twitch into the air automatically, rising to hover over the ruched material of your dress. There's a desperation in his fingertips, a burning itch that has his ligaments twitching as he attempts to commit every inch of your body to memory.
'Hey...' Huffing air out of your nose, you press your palms to his. His fingers slot between yours easily, allowing you to squeeze tightly once before retracting your touch. Tensing your fingers, you don't have to encourage him much before he's taking a firm hold of your chest and smoothing his thumbs across the apex of your tits.
A shaky breath bullies it's way from Kaminari's mouth, the dull click of his throat audible as he swallows down the groan vibrating through his chest. 'You're... Why're you, so – so soft?..'
You chuckle, the noise bouncing your chest in his hands as he continues to slowly explore your skin. 'I moisturise.'
At that, a laugh breaks through the lull. It's full bodied and high, a giggle born from pure amusement that makes the apples of his cheeks glow. 'Yeah?'
'Yeah...' You repeat and take his hands once more, encouraging him to take a rougher grip of you. ''m soft here.' Pressing his palms up, you let your chest spill into his hands, but before he can even think about taking a hold of you, you're moving him on. '...And here.'
Next, you skate his hands down your sides making him feel the swell of your curves as your waist gives way to the shape of your hips. 'But...' Biting your lip, you hook your thumbs below his palms and lift, forcing him to venture across the bunched material of your dress until you can nestle one of his hands against your thigh and the other, square over the mound of your cunt. 'I think I'm the softest here.'
Denki moans. Even through the sheer lace of your underwear he can feel how wet you are. It warms the pad of his thumb, making his skin tingle as he presses just so against the raw bud of your clit.
You jolt, even the gentle touch of his thumb making your cunt clench with anticipation. Humming under your breath, you let go of his hand to tug at the collar of his shirt. 'Off... C'mon, it's not fair.' You're whining now, hips moving in the smallest circles you can manage against his stationary pressure.
'Hmm?' Mesmerised by your sudden neediness, he has to shake his head to bring his brain back online for long enough to process your request; but as soon as he does, he's sitting up and almost unseating you in his haste to get rid of his shirt. He yanks at the back of the material, hoisting it over his head and tossing it as far as he can manage. Curling his spine, he blinks up at you with hazy golden eyes and offers you an expectant smile. It twitches the corner of his mouth, pulling his lips into an expression that almost shows his teeth.
'That better?'
You nod and lift your hands to his shoulders. His skin, now bare, is warm under your palms. The lean muscle tangled over his bones is firm and yet, soft; moving delicately under your touch with each of his unsteady inhales. Your eyes eat at him greedily, at the surprising broadness of his shoulders, the cleft of his chest and the neat rolls of his stomach as he bends.
Shifting, he feels chews on the edge of his lip. 'W- What?'
'Nothing...' You smile, pulling your eyes back up to his. 'Just looking at you.'
'Why?'
Lifting a hand, you smooth your knuckles down his cheek. 'Because you're pretty...'
He blushes. Bright red blooms on the tips of his cheek bones and runs like a river down his face until almost his entire chest is flushed.
'… And,' you smirk. 'I think you're going to look even prettier when you're inside me.'
A strangled whimper leaves his throat. It catches behind his Adam's apple, clicking audibly in the new dull silence of the room. His hands lift, fingers digging crescents into the fat of your thighs as he tries to stop his hips from rutting up and into the softness of your cunt.
'You like the idea of that?' Using your thumb, you pull down his lip, exposing gum. 'Like the idea of being inside of me. You wanna fill me up, huh?'
He nods.
'Words.'
'Y – Yeah. Fuck, yeah... Wanna, wanna fuck you.' His grip tightens, eyes unable to be torn away from yours. Grinding down, he shifts his ass further into the mattress, trying and failing to slink away from your heat.
'Good boy.' You kiss him softly, letting him whine into your mouth, but before he can lurch forward and deepen the kiss, you're pulling back and shimmying off of his lap.
For a moment, he attempts to move with you. His head follows, lips still pursed and searching even as you almost clear his knees, but all too soon there's the obvious indents of your fingers in his chest stopping him.
Your hands fiddle with the button of his jeans, making quick work until you're able to slip your hands under the waistband. 'Lift your hips.'
He does, complying easily as you rid him of the offending material. Resting himself on his elbows, he watches as you drop the clothing off the end of the bed and lean back just enough to snake your way out of your dress. He licks his lips. Your body twists, exposing the rough curves of your hips as you shimmy to reposition yourself on the bed. The plush fat of your breast swaying, nipples flat in a way that makes him want to taste them, to feel them plump on his tongue.
Holding onto the small amount of cognition that he still possesses, he uses it to drink in the sight of you perching over his hips.
Lowering yourself onto your elbows at either side of pelvis, you feel your skin prickle under his gaze. Burning suns threaten to scorch your skin as he devours you, eyes everywhere, committing even your most unattractive details to memory. It makes you feel exposed, vulnerable and powerful, having him so captivated without even a touch. Shivering against his gaze, you dip your head and, while keeping your eyes on his, lick a long, thick stripe across the hardness straining against his boxers.
It's like he's just been shocked. Two million vaults course up through his legs with a violence that makes his eyes roll. His cock twitches, jumping against your touch even as you pull away. 'Not... Fuck, that's not fair.'
'No?' You cock your head and purse your lips, pressing the softest of kisses to his covered head.
'No: fuck.' Stretching out his shoulders, he tries to loosen the tension quickly building in his stomach. The last thing he wants is to paint the insides of his boxers and become the latest laughing stock of your friends. Clamping shut his eyes, he breathes deep, but his breathe is stolen again too soon when he feels your tongue press hard against his cock again. Reaching down, he catches hold of the front of your throat.
'That's not going to make me stop, baby.' You laugh, lowering your head again and pushing your throat against his palm. 'If anything, it's going to make me tease you more.'
The rough pads of his fingers dig in for a moment, half-crescents threatening to mark your throat as he tests his grip before releasing you. Rocking his head back onto the pillow, he feels the elastic of his boxers pull from his hips and slip until it's nestled below his balls.
As soon as it's released from its confines, Denki's cock snaps back against his stomach. It's a pretty thing. Slight in it's length, with a girth that is comfortable enough to sit perfectly in your palm and a soft rose to the skin; just looking at him makes you want to swallow him down. His head is darker, a deep red where it peaks from underneath his foreskin and weeps pearled white over his shaft where it races its way to the thick copse of dirty blonde hair that gathers around the base. Wrapping your lips around the tip, you suck ever so softly.
Denki whimpers. Reaching up, he presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to stem the onslaught of stimulus threatening to reduce him to a premature end. His breath stutters in his chest, caught somewhere underneath his diaphragm as he feels your tongue slip over his head and inch beneath the stretch of his foreskin.
Moaning, you bob slowly on his cock swallowing barely an inch before he's pushing his ass into the mattress and trying to scramble away.
'Shit. Hang on, hang on...' Hand shooting down, he grips the base of his cock with an almost bruising pressure while still wriggling backwards. 'Don't wanna... I don't -.' His breath comes out in pants, his chest caving in with each shaky inhale as he prays for his body not to betray him.
'Are you okay?' Wiping your lip, you sit up and cock your head. You're about to reach for him voice dripping with concern when he peaks open an eye to stare at you.
A dull laugh skips from his tongue when he takes in the confusion lacing your features, allowing him enough air to splutter out a broken: 'Was... Fuck, wasn't going to last.'
'I barely touched you -.'
'Guess I just find you that hot, huh?' With his pulse steadying, he chances a steady stroke of his cock gathering both pre-cum and spit in the twist of his fist. 'You, you have no idea what you do to me, do you?'
Settling back over his hips, you reach for the hand not wrapped around his cock and interlace your fingers before guiding him to your hip. It takes a simple hook of your finger before the heat of your cunt is exposed, underwear unceremoniously tugged aside to allow you to reposition Denki's hand beneath you. 'You have no idea, either.'
The first grind of your cunt across his knuckles has him sucking in breath. Each bone catches against your clit, coating him in your arousal as soft moans begin to leak from your mouth. It makes his stomach twist, his cock twitching in his hand as he feels your need grow large enough to match his own. 'I – I think I'm getting one.'
'Yeah?'
'Yeah.' He swallows. The edges of his vision swim, growing blurry as he struggles to comprehend you grinding on his hand and soaking his lap. Even with the tension still around the base of his cock, he can feel it twitch in his hand, desperate to feel the sweet recess of your cunt. 'I'm... Fuck, I'm not gonna...'
You cock your head, a smile playing at your lip as he trips over his words. 'C'mon, use your words.'
Groaning, he rocks his head back on his shoulders before fixing you with a needy gaze. He speaks quickly, with barely a breath between words as if there isn't even enough time for him to finish his sentence. 'If... Fuck, if you're serious about wanting to sit on my cock, you're going to have to do it soon because just looking at you has me nearly -.'
You cut him off with a kiss. It's immediately deep, needy in its pace and leaves both of you panting when you finally pull away. Resting your nose against his, you whisper into the slither of space between you. 'You want me to fuck you, baby?'
He nods.
'Words.'
'Fuck, yeah. Yeah. I want you – shit, want you so bad.' Twisting his palm, he uses his thumb to gently tap at the hood of your clit. With each subtle moan he earns from your chest, his taps become longer, harsher, causing you to bite your lip and grind down onto him.
Nodding, you cover his hand with yours to inch him away. A smile twitches at the corner of your mouth as he whimpers, chest hollowing at the idea of being parted from you for even a moment.
Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose before reaching between your own thighs and taking hold of his cock.
He releases himself as soon as he feels your fingers close around his shaft. His cock pulses, twitching into your hold as you give him a single cursory stroke, spreading the pre-cum leaking down over his skin from tip to root. Flicking your eyes back up to his, you feel the dull thrum of arousal beating in your cunt as you watch his lips drop open even with the little friction you've allowed him. 'Look at you... You're almost as wet as me.'
A blush blooms high on his cheeks, his eyes blowing almost black; turning his eyes into a solar eclipse. His mouth moves, but the words stick in his throat – leaving nothing but a moan able to escape as he nods in agreement.
Wiggling your hips, you shift back and line him up. You're dripping, skin shining with slick as you slowly, slowly, lower yourself down onto his cock.
Immediately, his hands clamp solid around your waist. His eyes roll back, eyelids fluttering as he huffs. You feel divine, hot and wet and squeezing him so tightly that it's hard for him to focus. The edges of his vision blur, his head swimming even though you've barely taken an inch of him. 'Shit, shit... Fuck -.'
'You feel so good.' You finish his sentence for him. His cock forces you to stretch around him, opening you up as you continue to sink down onto him. It's a mild presence, but one that manages to press up on every single nerve inside of you making you want to cry out. Your thighs shake, hands reaching forward to splay over his chest to steady yourself as you finally bottom him out. The nest of blond pubic hair at his base tickles against your clit, causing you to gasp and roll your hips, searching for more.
'I -.' Trying to pull his head from the pillow, Denki stares through the haze of his eyes. 'I'm not gonna last.' His grip tightens on your waist, a new desperation crawling into his voice as he almost whispers... 'Wanna – fuck, wanna make you feel good though.'
'Yeah?' Lifting yourself, you sink back down onto him with ease and shiver against the flare of pleasure that twists your stomach up into knots.
'Please...' Denki's throat is raw, tightening around his plea.
Desperation fills his chest as he watches the point at which you're joined. His eyes fixate on it. On where your body stretches for him, cunt open and drooling as you take him with ease; the flushed bud of your clit twitching each time you manage to impale yourself just right. 'Please...' He tries again, voice still warbling. 'Please, cum on my cock. Please – I wanna, wanna see, wanna feel – please...'
You chuckle, lifting one of your hands from his wrists to stroke your knuckles down his cheek. 'Look at you, begging so pretty...'
'Please -.'
Nodding, you straighten up and roll your shoulders back. For a moment you stay still, letting the taught pleasure simmer inside you until it settles. Your cunt has slicked his skin, making the soft rose flesh shine in the low light of his bedroom. The sight does something funny to your stomach, making it twist and bubble. Clenching your hands, you beckon him to hold you.
There's something impossibly grounding about the way you lace your fingers with his. His palms face upwards, providing a platform for you to press against and he's forced to tense his biceps as you use him as leverage to bounce. 'Oh, shit.' Pleasure flares through his body like wild-fire, making him cling to your hands and his clamp shut his eyes.
'Look at me.' Your voice is soft, although, if he were to listen close, he'd be able to hear a similar desperation to the one that infests his own. 'D-Denki, look at me.'
He obeys immediately. His gaze is hazy. His focus shattered as he looks from your eyes, to your lips, to where your cunt swallows him and back again.
'Want you to watch.' You whisper, causing his eyes to widen.
Nodding, he lifts his hips, fucking up into you just enough to have you teetering on the edge of bliss. He can feel it, how close you are. It's in the tightness, in the way your cunt squeezes him and pulses. You look like a vision, your skin flushed, with sweat beginning to dew along the line of your collarbones and your eyebrows drawn up making your features stretch with pleasure. His heart stutters in his chest, betraying the swirling emotions that threaten to make this mean a whole lot more than just sex.
''m close.' You stutter over your words, so close to your own end that you can almost taste it, but it isn't until you see the soft mouthing of Kaminari's continued begging that you finally feel yourself hit free-fall. His eyes are glued to yours, making you feel observed and worshipped all at once as the entirety of your body lights up like a sparkler.
Kaminari has seen a lot of great things in his middling twenty-seven years on this planet, but watching you come undone on top of him drops itself clear at the top. Ignoring his own nearing end, he attempts to commit every inch of you to memory as he feels you tumble over the end, once and for all.
Your orgasm hits you like a train. Your cunt pulses, thighs and stomach tensing violently as each wave of pleasure threatens to black out your vision. With each ebb, another dull thrust of Kaminari's cock brings back that same crashing pleasure. You're not sure if you cry out, not sure if you call his name – your ears are full of static, your eyes clouded as you remain air born into bliss.
'Did -.' Swallowing around the spit pooled in his mouth, Kaminari still can't pull his eyes away from you. 'Did I do good? Did I?'
Coming back to your body feels strange. There's a lightness in your bones and a burn in your muscles that screams satisfaction, but that still doesn't stop the fire churning in your stomach once your eyes clear enough to see him. He's close to tears, flushed and needy with his hips still grinding up unable to stop as your cunt continues to milk him. Biting into your lip, you reduce yourself to your elbows beside his head and press your chest to his. 'Cum for me... Want you to use me.'
There's no need to tell him twice. Electricity flashes in his eyes as he lifts himself enough to plant his feet square on the mattress and begin fucking up into you. It's desperate, the pace he sets, as is the series of moans that leak from his mouth as he loses himself to the feel of your cunt. 'Feels, fuck – fuck.'
'That's it, baby.' You coo, pressing an uncoordinated kiss just south of his mouth. Overstimulation bites at your insides making your stomach tense as his cock continues to press square over your G-spot, but there's no mistaking the hum of pleasure it continues to force through your body.
It takes barely a handful of stuttering thrusts before there's a gasping 'Where... Fuck, tell me where now Princess, or I'm gonna -.'
'Inside.' You moan, the idea alone making your mind reel. 'Please, fuck. Cum inside me, please.'
'Yeah...' He nods, huffing. 'Yeah, shit, okay.' His hands find their way down to the small of your back when he cums. His palms spread there, pressing down to ensure he's as deep as possible when he finally begins to fill you. Thick and white, he spills inside you, his cock pulsing as he quakes through the last of his orgasm.
Lifting your head, you blink at him as he slowly comes back to himself. There's a warmth floating in your stomach and a subtle ache in your muscles that you're sure will only feel better in the morning, but that matters a lot less when you lock eyes with him again.
He blinks, disbelief and joy mixing on his features as he mumbles: 'You let me cum inside you.'
'I did.'
'You -.'
'Yeah.'
'Holy shit.'
'You liked it?'
'No-one has never, no-one has...'
You hum and lean in to press only the softest of kisses to his cheek. ''m glad I did. You did so well...' Sitting up, you let your hands roam over your stomach and the fat that lives there. 'Filled me so good.'
Many things flicker through his mind then, none of them savoury. The way you're sat, straight with a subtle curve to your spine, makes your stomach stick out slightly. So much so, that if he where to squint and let his mind wander, he could almost believe that you were... Kaminari's cock twitches.
'Are you getting hard again?' You cock an eyebrow.
He swallows. 'Maybe?'
'Because of?..'
This time, he has the decency to blush, but he doesn't dare lie. He nods, biting down on his lower lip. 'I think I just discovered a new kink?'
'Hmm.' Purring, you rock your hips against him and feel his cock give another valiant twitch. 'Maybe you should breed me again, just to make sure it took, then?'
Kaminari short circuits. His eyes shimmer in the dark, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest as he tries to calm himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wonders just what the Hell he did to ever catch your eye.
'Would you like that?'
Sitting up, he wraps his arms around you before twisting and tossing you back to the mattress. He looms over you, an elbow beside your shoulder as his other hand travels down your body and graces the mound of your cunt to play with your clit. Lingering there for a moment, he slips lower and collects the spend that has leaked from you with his fingers before gently pushing it back inside you. 'Yeah...'
Curling his fingers, he makes you arc off the bed as he rubs at your G-spot. 'I'd like that a lot.'
Denki rubs the sleep from his eyes and yawns. There's a pleasant ache in his limbs when he stretches his arms above his head, his toes pointing underneath the duvet as he rocks his head back on his pillow.
His movement jostles you, causing you to open your eyes and squint against his smile.
'You're still here.' He beams.
You respond as if it's obvious, as if there wasn't any remote possibility of you leaving in the middle of the night. 'I am.' Wriggling closer to him, you ignore the dampness still lingering between your thighs from an entire night spent together and lift your leg over his knee.
It still feels surreal as he wraps an arm around your shoulders and uses his thumb to stroke at the skin there, carving unknowable shapes into your muscle. He's longed for this, for you, for longer than he can remember and yet, if he had only seen past his own insecurity... Who knows how long he could have indulged in your body for? How long he could have made you moan and made you breakfast and seen what you looked like at seven in the morning when the sun was in your eyes?
'So, do you believe me now?' You blink at him and smile, resting your head against the turn of his collarbone.
'What?'
Running a finger down the cleft of his chest, you tap out a tune against his sternum. 'That I only want you, silly.'
There's no evidence of yesterday's former ignorance lingering on his features when he stares back at you, only the something close to happiness and the faint shimmer of mischief. 'Eh...' Taking your hand from his chest, he lifts it to his mouth and presses a series of kisses across your knuckles.
The gesture makes you giggle, but before you can lose yourself to his sweetness, he's twisting your hand and pressing your palm to his skin once more. You let him guide you, letting him encourage you down over his chest and past his stomach. You let him push onward, even when you already know exactly where he's heading.
'I think I might need more evidence.' He mumbles as your fingers slip through his pubic hair and make his skin tingle. Already his cock his half hard and swelling fast, just at the mere thought of your hand wrapping around it.
'Yeah, you think so, huh?' Biting your lip, you wait until the breath catches in the back of his throat to stop his onward march.
He swallows.
Sitting up on an elbow, you tilt your head and press a kiss to his mouth, before whispering against his lips. 'Then, maybe my mouth will be better at convincing you...'
-> Masterlist
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The Apathy of the Sun
~OCverse with eventual Levi x OC pairing~
Part 2
Word Count: 2,859
Content Warning: Mentions of human trafficking!!! Violence, blood, language
Summary: Eevie is a survivor of the underground slave trade. She makes it her duty to rescue others in the pursuit of granting freedom to those who cannot attain it themselves. However, her attempts at demolishing the corruption of the underground city are thwarted by the government of Paradis, and the future that is in store for her is one that she never could have predicted.
Notes: This isn’t a selfship but was made with just as much self indulgence as one. These two live way too colorful of a life together in my head to be confined there forever. That being said, I will be mentioning a lot of intense themes such as gore, violence, human trafficking, etc... and will try to make content warnings for each chapter as specific as possible. Also, I just want to thank anyone who publishes selfships or OCs. You’ve given me the courage and motivation to write this and I love you. Thank you.
It took a moment for her senses to come back into focus. She could smell smoke and the burnt edges of her hood as the fabric flapped wildly alongside her, gusts of air whizzing past as she sprung up from the aftermath of the explosion. Slowly her environment started to blur into focus, her eyes clarifying after the intense darkness had made way to blinding light.
She glanced to her left, then her right. Off in the distance she could see figures darting from one building to another, concealing themselves momentarily behind the tall, dusty towers. Counting them, she took a deep breath and released it audibly past her lips. So far everyone was accounted for. They just needed to get the fuck out of there.
They had accomplished their mission. One more base of unspeakable operations down. One less business fronting the worst kind of crime that existed in this crime-infested shithole of a city. She sent a prayer to those left behind. The ones who wouldn’t escape the blast and whose suffering had finally come to a close. To whom she prayed, she didn’t know, but it was all she could do for them now.
A second figure sprung up from behind her. As anticipated, the military police were finally catching on to their latest mission of destruction. Why they gave a shit, God only knew. It could probably only be answered by the fact that they were deep in someone’s pocket, no doubt. The MPs were just as corrupt as every other asshole and only cared to show up in the underground when there was something in it for them. Her gang only demolished sites where human trafficking was highly active, and yet, they were treated as criminals all the same. Destruction. Arsonry. Manslaughter. It was all the same to the MPs no matter how evil the “victims” were. That, or taking out these sites of trafficking were only serving as some sort of detriment to the lives of the MPs who were somehow invested in the trade.
No, they knew she wasn’t darting around on a stolen set of EDM gear blowing up random stores, warehouses, and clinics for fun. They knew what those businesses were hiding, and that’s why she became a target for them.
However, her thoughts were abruptly cut short as a figure appeared beside her, requiring her to barrel roll sideways and nearly collide with the closest building. Her arms and knees strained as she braced herself on the concrete and pulled the trigger of her gear, shooting her up then diagonally towards a narrow alleyway. That was unexpected. The military police, as talented as they were, didn’t often throw in unexpected tactics. At least not ones that she wasn’t already somewhat familiar with parrying.
The chase continued. Just as she had thought she was finally outrunning the one on her tail, another manifested at the end of the alley ahead. She darted upwards when another one burst from the window of the building beside her in an attempt to cut her off. She just barely spun out of the way, the sleeve of her flimsy hood shredding against their blade.
Her mind was already racing to come up with a plausible reason for what was going on. She knew as soon as she turned the alley that these weren’t MPs. Not a single bullet had been shot. These were either imposters dressed up to capture her without even the proper equipment to do so, or these were scout or garrison soldiers. And since the latter made no sense, it had to be the former.
Whatever reason they had for impersonating an MP she could care less, her escape plan was the same either way. In her mind she hoped her comrades had realized the situation they were in already and were able to react accordingly. However, the longer the chase went on the more she realized how outmatched they were. Imposters, sure. But damn were they nimble. It seemed like with every turn and combative motion she made they were one step ahead. That’s when she heard the haphazard metallic whipping sound of EDM gear snapping on the other side of the building beside her. Somehow, she had been closing in towards her friends, or rather, they were being herded towards one another.
She grit her teeth, the cold chill of dread washing over her. It wasn’t unlikely that these people were part of one of the slave trading operations she and her growing group of survivors had been abolishing steadily for the past two years. They were going about it differently, chasing them around midday dressed like the military, but if it really were them then there was no other way about it. She had to treat this like an extension of any other mission.
The group of survivors she partnered with had formed a pact after escaping the hell of the underground slave trade. The ones who were physically well and willing trained tirelessly to form rescue missions at all the bases of operations where people were kept or sold. When they felt they had rescued everyone they could, they would wipe the place clean. Boom.
The goal wasn’t survival. Only freedom. Freedom for themselves but most importantly, to the others who couldn’t fight. Whether freedom was in death or escape, to them it was all the same. And she made it her main objective to keep those around her from being captured again; from enduring the soul-crushing despair of losing their freedom once more with no promise of escape.
So that’s what her objective was now.
She took a sharp right, heading in the direction of the others that she could hear on the other side of the wall. The two figures on her tail looked at one another. The expressions on their faces hinting that this might be easier than they originally planned. When she found the clearing where her friends were she mapped out the area quickly, noting where all the enemies were. She saw one of her friends heading straight towards a dead end, one of the alleged MPs darting right for her ready for her to make her mistake.
She shot her gear in their direction, trying to hook them right in the back. A blade came flashing before her eyes, knocking her wire offtrack with a sharp cling. In the half-second it took her eyes to pass over the blade spinning off in the distance a soldier from the opposite side was on top of her. The impact of their body stunned her momentarily, allowing precious seconds to pass as their bodies made impact with the ground. As she was falling she caught a glimpse of the emblem on the front of their uniform. All she could think was why in god’s name were these assholes dressed as scouts? Couldn’t get their hands on a more practical uniform?
That’s when she hit the ground gasping as the wind was knocked out of her lungs. She recovered herself quickly, forcing herself to push through the discomfort, knowing it would pass. She was able to wriggle an arm free as they had collided on the ground and she pulled back her fist quickly to strike them across the brow. She looked up towards her friend, scrambling to think of something. However, she was relieved to witness a small victory unfold.
Her friend had vanished and her pursuer was hunched over near the dead end they had nearly pinned her in, blood dripping copiously from their face as their hands covered it.
“I- I didn’t expect them to fight like that!”
“Idiot. Of course they’re going to fight with all they’ve got.”
The short distraction allowed her to hastily reach into her hood, pulling out a small pistol that the MPs often carried on them. The same kind that had belonged to the soldier she had stolen her gear from. The one on top of her was too quick, however, and they swiftly pinned her arm to the ground above her head. She fired two shots into the nether, back to back and not caring where they landed. This wasn't an offensive maneuver. This was a message.
Though a few of them had guns, ammo for such artillery was nearly impossible to come by unless it, too, was riskily (or luckily) stolen. Therefore, they left one another with just enough ammo for dire situations. They could be used as a last-ditch effort of desperation, or they could convey a message to any others of their group within earshot. For example, two bullets fired into the air back to back: Don’t come back for me.
Get away from here and stay away. Whatever happens to me, don’t let them catch you, too.
It was the last thing she could think to do. The one on top of her was huge, almost twice her size. She knew she couldn’t fight his strength and her odds of escape were slim, but the last thing she wanted was for the others to trap themselves by trying to save her. They had all agreed on a few unshakable establishments as soon as they had formed a pact to demolish the slave trade system of Paradis: sacrifices were necessary, no one was expected to go on rescue missions so long as they stayed back and cared for the young and disabled, and anyone could leave on their own terms at any time, including by death.
She tried to calm herself. To tell herself she had done everything she could and as self-established masters of escape, that the other two would have no problems in escaping as long as she could keep this group distracted for as long as possible.
She tried to catch her breath. However, the air caught in her throat once she looked up at the man pinning her down. Haunting blue eyes glistened down at her, his mouth slit in wild amusement. A steady stream of blood trickled down his sharp cheekbones from where the blow from her punch had landed. A chill cascaded down her spine. And as the cool mud beneath her soaked into her sweat-dampened clothes, she shuddered.
Great. She thought. This one seems to be particularly unhinged. She wanted to scream and wail at the thought of the awful things this man would do to her, but she held his gaze firm. She had seen it and been through it all before. She could take it. The very fact she was here at all was proof of that. The others were safe. They must be. She could take whatever punishment for failing to flee successfully, as long as they were able to escape by her sacrifice. This thought would carry her through.
One of the other figures walked up to them now, pulling down his hood to reveal a shock of pitch black hair.
“Commander…”
The man on top of her slowly tilted his head up to look at the one who had addressed him, that spark of amusement quickly vanishing as he gave a stern order.
“Levi, stay here and make sure we don't lose her. The rest of you, find the others."
Despite their injuries the other figures quickly dispersed, and again she silently said a prayer that her friends were far, far away by now. Before she could finish her thought she was swiftly rolled over and pinned on her stomach with her arm behind her back. The dirt beneath her smelled like sewage. She did her best to keep her mouth shut tight as her face pressed against the wet sludge.
Then, the shorter man approached her, smashing his boot into the side of her face and making it nearly impossible to avoid tasting it, confirming to her what her nose had already guessed.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll behave and follow our orders."
The two men looked at one another as if communicating without words. Then, they moved into a position where the shorter man restrained her by holding her up on her knees with her arms secured behind her back, a knife to her throat, while the taller one stood before her.
Despite the threatening position she was poised in, the tall man before her had no expression of anger or aggression. His face was stern yet calm. As if he had no ill intentions towards her and merely wanted to scold her for misbehaving. Tch, who the fuck is this guy, she thought.
“What’s your name?”
She paused for a moment, glaring tiredly at this man. She was rarely ever asked this question. Typically men would take what they wanted from her without needing to know any details about her. Even when she was considered “high value merchandise” she was merely assigned a number. A simple string of digits that changed depending on where she was taken or who she was presented to at the time. As random and impermanent as life itself. However, this time, for whatever reason, she chose to tell them her name. Her real name, given to her by her mother.
“Eevie.”
"Eevie,” he repeated, his lips turning up somewhat. Though this wasn’t the same unhinged smile he had worn just moments before. This one was more relaxed, welcoming even. “We want you to join us.”
"Over my dead body."
"That could very well be the final outcome here, though I would like to avoid that. The government knows about you, and they'd much rather you be tried and hanged." He let a moment pass for effect, "I want to offer you the choice of putting your skills to use instead of simply dying and having them go to waste."
Confused, her eyes glanced down once again at the emblem on his chest, then back up to meet his firm, frosty glare.
"Join the Survey Corps. We'll bring you above ground and train you," he continued.
She sat silently, her mind trying to catch up with her circumstance. That's when the man behind her tightened his grip, her shoulder blades aching as he spouted coldly, "Are you as dumb as that expression you’re making? You'll get a warm bed and three square meals. What kind of shitty life here could possibly beat that."
The Survey Corps. The actual Survey Corps? She was used to running from criminals for so long, and criminals dressed as military police, and military police who were actually criminals, that the last thing she was expecting was for them to be who they really said they were.
“You want me to join the military?” she said with harsh, mocking disbelief.
Then, abruptly, a blinding white pain replaced what was once her face. And as she opened her mouth to cry out it was filled with the squelching sludge of dirt and sewage. She held her breath, trying not to inhale it through her nostrils and up into her sinuses as the other man’s boot came down hard on the back of her head.
“Forget it Erwin. This one’s clearly too stupid to be of any use. With any luck the others will bring back someone worth our time.”
However, the other man was quiet. She couldn’t quite tell what wordless conversation the two men were having now, though to be honest she couldn’t quite care either. All she wanted was a breath of fresh air to fill her lungs. To retch and spit out whatever abomination she was trying desperately not to swallow.
After a few agonizingly long seconds she was brought back up again. She did her best not to inhale too deeply, knowing that the sludge that filled her mouth would be pulled back into her throat. She coughed, gagged, and gasped for air until she was finally able to spit and inhale with more precision. Though every ounce of her wanted to stare the two men in the face with hatred and defiance, she started to fall back into herself instead. In the same way that had helped her survive before. Her eyes unfocused. Her mind went blank. She pictured herself somewhere far away.
The taller man’s face flashed resolve. Somewhere he realized the tactics that had worked on those before wouldn’t work here. And just then, as if on cue, the other soldiers came whipping back on their ODM gear, faces sullen and tinged with embarrassment.
“We lost them…”
He didn’t say a word in response, as though he had already expected that outcome. Instead, he watched her shoulders fall with relief to his soldier’s news. Then, he walked over and knelt down before her. Taking a handkerchief from his breast pocket he wiped the filth from her mouth and eyes, allowing his face to come into full focus before her. His expression was unchanged.
“Eevie, you’ll be coming with us. If you want to accept our offer, I’ll do everything in my power to see to it that you get the shortest sentence allowable for your crimes. The choice to decline is still yours to make. Though I will admit, we would be sorely missing out to lose you.”
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