snnrinc

[snnrinc]

Head empty, just them.

I roughly redrew the sketch I had posted a few days ago (I forgot one of Dabi's scars, how embarrassing 🤦)

This was based on my detective noir au fic (x reader)

#bnha #mha #bnha hawks #bnha keigo takami #bnha dabi #bnha touya todoroki #mha fanart #bnha fanart #bnha x reader #mha x reader #it's giving a bit of dabihawks too tbh #the brainrot is real #my art

[snnrinc]

Codename: ROOK

Ch. 2 - Playing With Fire [AO3 Portal]

Ch. 1 - AO3 / Tumblr

— PAIRING : Hawks/Keigo Takami x Reader x Dabi/Touya Todoroki

— WARNINGS : (check Ch. 1 for all the warnings) Crime Scene, Blood and Violence, Groping

Standing outside of a shady bar filled with drunk people, cigarette smoke and the smell of sweat in the middle of the night was not exactly how one would envision the start of a nice, enjoyable work shift. In fact, it was not a nice, enjoyable start to anything.

You looked up at the sign hanging above the door and swinging along in the night wind, the chill of the air making you clutch your jacket even closer to your body. Your skin was covered in goosebumps, but you were unsure whether they were caused by the low temperature or your anxiety from being in such a place alone at night. You trusted that Hawks wouldn't get you killed so recklessly by sending you to this location, but nothing in the world could've possibly comforted you when you knew that the only thing standing between you and meeting Dabi face to face was the rusty door of a seedy bar.

Despite your nerves, you willed yourself to open the door and step inside, immediately grabbing the attention of several patrons who stopped their chatting and drinking in favour of watching you make your way down to the bar and taking a seat at one of the stools. You tried to seem as nonchalant as possible while looking around, scanning the environment for your target, but a new face was ought to bring suspicion no matter how well you blended in with the regulars. You ordered a drink more so for appearances, but still carefully took a sip or two so it wouldn't be obvious you had ulterior motives to be there. After all, you knew people from around these parts didn't take kindly to undercover cops slithering their way into their territory.

You turned your body to the side, crossing your legs and casually leaning your elbow on the bar, holding your glass to your lips so it would seem like you're sipping. You now had a better angle to search the faces and appearances of the other customers. You didn't notice anything out of the ordinary for a few minutes, and just as you were getting ready to stand up and go to the bathroom so you could approach more tables and booths—and to avoid getting approached by random people—the door creaked open once again.

You were thankful you weren't drinking when you saw Dabi walk in, lest you would've choked on the liquid. His hands were stuck in his pockets, the collar of his leather coat raised. His mere presence was unsettling, enhanced by his scars and myriad of piercings adorning his face. You noticed a few patrons avert their eyes or simply ignore him, but you continued to stare. As if sensing your insistent gaze, his eyes shifted to you, icy blue, electric, and you resisted the urge to turn away. Instead, you arched your back to accentuate your body, tilting your head and giving him the most seductive smile you could muster, silently attempting to convince him to approach you. His eyes lingered on you for a second longer before he walked further in the building and joined the masses.

You panicked for a second. Had he recognised you? You had run-ins with him before but surely being outside of your work uniform and usual patrol areas was enough to conceal your identity. After all, you never managed to even get close to capturing him and you were certainly not the only officer he'd had to deal with.

You thought perhaps he was just not interested in flirting with a random person, but even so you couldn't let him slip through your fingers. You watched as he approached a table and quickly turned back around to the bartender, ordering two new drinks. Having a peace offering would probably prove to be helpful in breaking the ice.

When you stood up and turned to start towards Dabi, your worry only increased as you noticed he was absent. You walked to where you last saw him but to no avail, looking around almost frantically in search of him until your eyes landed on the back door of the building. You quickly set the glasses down on an empty table and walked to the door, carefully opening it and looking down the back alley. You stepped out and finally spotted him leaning against a wall smoking.

Resuming your flirty demeanour, you walked over to him and noticed how his eyes shifted to you, yet he didn't bother to make a move to acknowledge your presence.

“Hey handsome, got any more smokes?” You pouted. “I forgot mine home.”

“I don't have any.”

You stopped your eyebrow from twitching at his immediate rejection and instead took a step closer in front of him, almost breaching his personal space.

“What do you mean?” you asked, feigning innocence. “You've got one right there.”

He followed where you were pointing at and saw his lit cigarette. He huffed.

“Your eyes ain't working? I'm already smoking this one.”

“Well, I'm sure we can find some way to share,” you said sweetly, taking one final step to close the small gap between the two of you.

Your heart was beating out of your chest as your lips hovered mere inches from his, afraid he'll push you away, or worse. You could smell the smoke on his breath and to your surprise he didn't make any attempt to put distance between you two again. He was waiting to see just how far you'd go before you backed out, not giving you the satisfaction of succumbing to your game. You mentally cursed the situation you were in, but kept up the mask and pushed yourself into him, placing your hand on the wall behind him and finally pressing your lips together.

You gave him a closed mouth kiss for a few seconds until he seemingly got bored of your technique, his free hand coming up to hold the back of your head and tilt it for better access. You felt his tongue across your bottom lip and you instinctively opened your mouth, to which he responded by deepening the kiss. It was sloppy, the taste of tobacco still heavy on his tongue as it languidly toyed with yours, the contrast between his rough, scarred bottom lip and his soft upper one leaving you almost dizzy as you tried to keep up with him and reciprocate. Besides his natural musky scent, you noted the smell of soot invading your nostrils, but also of a gasoline-like chemical you couldn't quite place. Your hands moved from pressing against the wall on either side of him to sliding to his shoulders, holding onto his leather coat like you were fighting to hold onto your last string of concentration, breathless from how insistent he was with tasting you and not giving you a moment of respite.

Suddenly, he gripped your arms and moved you to the side, pushing you against the wall and holding your hands behind your back. You hissed in pain as your cheek scraped on the brick wall, struggling to break free from his iron grip.

“Hey! What the hell are you-”

“Don't fucking move,” he spoke next to your ear. His low, raspy voice made you shiver. “Who sent you?” “No one, I'm just here to have some fun!” you quickly answered and mentally cursed the way your voice broke.

“No one, huh?” he scoffed. “Got any weapons?”

“Of course not!”

“Then you won't mind if I check for myself,” he stated. “Don't try anything stupid or I'll turn you into ashes.” He gave you enough space to push yourself off the wall a bit, but you still remained stuck in your position against it as he propped his cigarette between his lips and kneeled down behind you. His hands circled one of your ankles and dipped under the edge of your boots to check for any hidden weapons, then slowly moved upwards on your leg, one of them squeezing the flesh of your inner thigh, the other feeling your front pocket before he switched to your other leg. He repeated his motions, only this time his hands slowed down as they were ascending, making you dig your nails into your palm.

You gritted your teeth as he stood up and firmly placed his hands on your ass, feeling you up and giving you a tentative squeeze before his hands moved to your hips and pulled you closer, flush against his body. You felt his breath fan over the nape of your neck, sending goosebumps on your skin, and you swallowed the lump in your throat, his hands moving from your hips to your stomach, slowly trailing upwards.

In a panic, you swiftly pushed his wandering hands off of you and stumbled away a few steps, finally facing him. You were met with a cocky smile as he dug his free hand into his pocket, the other coming up to grab the cigarette again. He looked like he was enjoying himself.

“That's enough,” you snapped. “You already know I have no weapons on me.”

Dabi tilted his head to the side and looked you up and down.

“I still don't know. Maybe if you strip for me I'll know for sure.”

“I have no intention of doing that,” you bit back and immediately regretted your tone. Your plan fell through faster than you had anticipated and you were only digging your grave further.

Dabi raised an eyebrow, drawling out a bored, “Really? I thought you said you're here to have some fun. You didn't seem to mind having my tongue in your mouth a second ago.” He slowly began walking towards you as you held your ground, willing yourself to not back away from him. Unfazed by your defiance, he brought his cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply before he stopped right in front of you, the smoke from his lungs pouring out on his breath and fanning your face with each word he spoke.

“You're not here to drink, you're not here to fuck, you don't seem like you're here to fight either. So what are you here for? Just a random death wish?”

“I'm here to talk business,” you said, gazing at him with determination.

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue.

“I have valuable information for you, but it doesn't come cheap.”

“How 'bout I just kill you instead?”

“You'd kill a reliable informant.”

“Reliable,” he scoffed, then began laughing at you. “I ain't stupid, doll. You think I'd forget that pretty face?” Your eyes widened and you straightened yourself, trying to put some safe distance between the two of you, unnerved by his words. Suddenly his free hand shot up and grabbed your wrist before you could move away, fingers clutching you almost painfully.

“You and your fellow officers have been nothing but a bunch of fucking thorns in my side. I should've killed you all long ago. Why should I even trust you now?” Your nails dug into his wrist, trying to loosen his grip on you so you could pull away, but he was too strong. You glared at him, angry at how your entire plan of approaching him and gaining his trust crumbled in just a few moments of being in his proximity. You were fearing for your life, knowing that his temper was just as volatile as the flames he had an unusual obsession with.

“I'm putting myself on the line to help you here!” you said. “I want to join you!”

“You're just a spy sent by the big guys, aren't you?”

“I'm not, I swear!”

“You swear?” he pulled you closer to him, his other hand grabbing your waist and for a moment you were painfully aware of his still lit cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers behind your back. “You're playing with fire, sweetheart. One more lie and you'll go up in flames like the sun.”

“I'm not lying, back off!”

With one strong push, he finally let go of you, your force causing you to stumble back while he maintained his position. You looked up at him, eyes ablaze with fury and a speck of panic, as you rubbed your sore wrist.

“I hate the Commission and everyone working for them!” you sneered. “Believe what you want, but you know just as well as I do how useful it would be to have a law enforcer back you up.”

“What the hell could an officer do? Give parking tickets to other cops as a distraction?”

“I could be a fly on the wall. No one would care to investigate someone if they don't stand out.”

He raised his cigarette to his lips again, drawing in a breath then exhaling it, the light at the end of the alley behind him filtering through the smoke. He was quiet for a moment, almost as if assessing your worth. You didn't know what to expect from him, but based on the precious little you knew about Dabi, half of you thought you'd be killed soon. However, much to your relief—at least temporarily—Dabi spoke again.

“You got any dirt on the big names of the Commission?”

Hook.

“You bet your ass I do. Name the name and I'll bring a file on them next time we meet.”

Line.

“This will be our usual meeting spot then, at least for now. Don't even think about chirping if you care about your life.”

Sinker.

You couldn't help the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth, pride and relief flooding your veins at last. Equipping you with the task of bringing back information on a few big-shots of the Commission, Dabi soon turned around and left you to gather yourself in the dark alley. Perhaps the mission wasn't doomed after all, but even with the positive outcome, something about Dabi left an unsettling feeling in your gut. You hoped the next time you met would be less hostile, although you knew it was just wishful thinking.

You dug your hands in the pockets of your coat to stave off the chill of the morning air as you approached Hawks, a coffee already in his hand. He had called you to join him at a crime scene just an hour prior, and you made haste to arrive.

The scene that greeted you was bleak, yellow police tape encircling the crime scene where several forensic experts were gathering evidence. The grey skies only added to the sombre atmosphere, but you were thankful it wasn't raining, lest the evidence be washed away.

When Hawks saw you approaching, he gave you a smile, his stance relaxed with one hand in his trousers and his signature shearling jacket draped over his shoulders. His friendly, care-free demeanour contrasted the crime scene backdrop in a way that made him seem out of place, but still managing to soothe your nerves.

“Morning! Sleep well?”

You were greeted by the memory of the past night, your conversation with Dabi, the anxiety, the kiss. You shook your head. “I've had better nights.”

“I can imagine,” he sighed. “I would've brought you a coffee but I'm not sure what you like.”

You waved off his comment and turned your attention to the crime scene, the more grim parts of it obscured by the forensic specialists examining the location. Being one of the lowest ranks in the force, you had never been this involved in a crime scene. Part of you was intrigued, but even that couldn't soothe the emptiness that settled in your stomach.

Hawks walked with you towards the yellow tape, explaining to you that the victim was the missing civilian you had seen on TV the other day. Unlike the agent's body, this one was still in one piece, despite the multiple stab wounds, which were also the cause of death. You listened carefully to what Hawks was telling you and suggested that if this victim was also a target for the League, the modus operandi was far too varied to pinpoint to a single person. Hawks nodded in thought. It made sense the League would operate as a group, after all, it made it easier to hide evidence that could tie them to the crime.

“The body is too close to the road.”

You blinked, looking at Hawks with a puzzled expression. He nodded to himself again and took a swig of his coffee.

“It can't be the League. The body is too close to the road where people pass,” he concluded, moving his hand in the general direction of the scene. “Sure, it's hidden in a bush near some trees, but if the League doesn't want a person to be found, they make sure they aren't. And if they wanted to send a message they would place the body in an even more public area.”

“So… what? You think some random criminal did this?” you asked.

“We can't know for sure, but it wouldn't be far-fetched to assume some killers would use the high activity level of the League in this area as a cover-up. Let's ask what else they found,” he said, then took a few more steps towards the yellow tape. “Hey, Aizawa!”

A person perked up as Hawks called out, standing up from where he was examining the evidence left around the body. Aizawa began approaching Hawks, taking off his gloves and placing them in his pocket. He pulled down his mask and the hood of his suit, revealing his hair neatly tied in a bun to prevent contaminating the scene. You saw him frown at Hawks, tired eyes fixated on him.

“Stop yelling, I'm not deaf yet,” Aizawa said as you made your way over to the two of them.

“My bad, had to grab your attention somehow. You seemed engrossed with what you were doing,” Hawks said, offering a friendly smile. “Got anything for us?”

“The estimated time of death is sometime around eleven P.M.” Aizawa crossed his arms over his chest. “Weird thing is, despite the stab wounds being the cause of death, the body was doused in naphtha. It's almost as if they left the job unfinished.”

“What sort of liquid is that?” you asked.

“It's a solvent used for thinning pain or as fuel for campfires,” Aizawa responded. “Kind of like gasoline, highly flammable. It's been found in other fire incidents around Musutafu, but we can't know for sure if they are related.”

A chill ran down your spine, memories of the night prior flashing before your eyes. The heat of Dabi against you and his musky scent, blending with the smell of soot and a gasoline-like chemical you couldn't quite place. Naphtha.

You excused yourself to Aizawa and pulled Hawks to the side, leaning close to his ear.

“I think I know who the killer is.”

“What?” he whisper-yelled back and moved to look at you. You clicked your tongue and pulled him back in so others couldn't hear.

“Think about it, who in the League has a tendency to light things on fire?”

“Yeah, emphasis on fire, not stabbing,” he retorted. “If Dabi was the one who did it, we wouldn't even have a body. We'd have a pile of ashes, at most.” “Unless he had to be somewhere else,” you argued. “He knew who I was, he knew why I was there.” Hawks was quiet for a long second, then straightened himself, looking at you with a seriousness you hadn't seen from him until then. His eyes looked sharper when he wasn't smiling.

“I think you shouldn't jump to conclusions so fast,” he said, leaving no room for discussion. “Don't forget he's our only chance to get into the League. If he hears you've ratted him out, you'll lose the already small amount of trust you've gained from him. Take advantage while you can.”

Before you could respond, Hawks turned on his heels and walked back to where Aizawa was to continue his discussion with him. Frustrated, you glared at his back as he walked further away. As much as you hated to admit, he was right, you already knew what you had to endure to get Dabi to even talk to you, let alone trust you. You couldn't let it all collapse from an impulsive decision when the stakes were far higher. Besides, you were bound to Hawks's orders, seeing as he was your superior and the lead investigator of your dangerous mission, at least if you cared about getting out of it alive.

You sighed in defeat and tilted your head back, watching the gunmetal clouds drift by through the leafless tree canopy for a few seconds before you decided to join Hawks once again for the investigation. You realised with a heavy heart your days would be just as shitty as your nights from here on out.

#bnha x reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #hawks x reader x dabi

[snnrinc]

Codename: ROOK

Ch. 1 - Outside Contractual Obligations [AO3 Portal]

— PAIRING : Dabi/Touya Todoroki x F!Reader x Hawks/Keigo Takami

— WARNINGS : NSFW (Not in this chapter), Noir AU, No Quirk AU, Porn With Plot, Sexual Tension, Threesome - F/M/M, Drugs Blood and Violence, Crime Scenes, Organized Crime, Murder, Eventual Smut, Cunnilingus, Double Penetration, Masturbation, Analingus, Mildly Dub-Con, Not Canon Compliant, AFAB reader, She/her pronouns for reader

— SUMMARY : Being a police officer in a city where crime runs high and respect is non existent has got to be one of the shittiest jobs you've ever had. But it pays the bills. However, once you and detective Keigo Takami are assigned a case that deals with the murder of a prolific law enforcer and the subsequent chain of disappearances happening all over Musutafu, you realise that having your bills up to date is most definitely not worth all the danger you're up against. Especially when that danger is named Dabi, one of the most sought after criminals that you've been trying to catch red handed for years. Nonetheless, this is your only opportunity to make your job finally mean something, so you and Keigo decide to go undercover right in the jaws of peril, its razor sharp teeth waiting to bite into your neck like a guillotine. But you won't back out now, will you, officer? Good luck on the job, codename Rook.

— NOTES : This was supposed to be a smutty one shot I have no idea what the fuck happened. It's been gathering dust in my Docs for over a year and yet this is the only chapter I have 💀 I left notes for myself saying "don't go overboard with the plot because the point is for them to FUCK" and now here we are. It definitely worked. For sure... Still hope you enjoy!

“A big-name agent of ours went missing a few months ago. No trace of his whereabouts until a couple weeks ago, when his body was found in the dumpster behind a hole-in-the-wall restaurant. Well, parts of it anyway.”

The man in front of you took a final puff from his dying cigarette and promptly extinguished it in the ashtray in front of him, right next to a bowl of sweets with generic labels. He exhaled the smoke in billows and it vanished in the air, lingering with a pungent smell of tobacco and an awful chocolate flavouring. Your nose scrunched up slightly and you resisted the urge to cough.

“We have no evidence left at the crime scene and the body being chopped up makes it near impossible to determine the murder weapon,” he continued. “We have some of our best agents dealing with the autopsy and the case as a whole, but no clear suspects so far.”

“This seems like highly classified information. So why are you telling me this?”

You closed the file you were handed and placed it back on the desk, eyes shifting to detective Enji Todoroki sitting across from you, watching the way his eyebrows dropped down just a little in an expression that seemed to almost be judging your intelligence.

Really, you felt like you should be the one judging here.

To say you were confused would be an understatement. When you were called into Enji's office, you had assumed you did something wrong on the job, since most people in your workplace seemed to overlook you even when it came to small tasks. Sometimes you felt that if you wouldn't turn up to work one day, no one would notice. Usually, you didn't mind — being invisible meant you could do your work in peace without being bothered by unnecessary small talk or the occasional office drama that you sometimes overheard in the break room. You were just an officer, one of the lowest ranks in the force, so the only time you expected any attention was when something went wrong.

When Enji personally came to look for you before you went on patrol for your shift you felt your stomach drop. Yes, the job sucked a good majority of the time, since you noticed you were often not taken seriously by your colleagues, sometimes probably even considered a liability when dealing with more violent cases. But like any other person roaming the earth, you still had rent to pay and food to buy if you wanted to continue existing, and working for the Public Safety Commission ensured you did just that and still had some money left for your more frivolous wants. Straightening your back, you followed Enji to his office, every bad scenario playing in your mind only getting worse when, as soon as you sat down, he dropped a file containing the case details on the desk in front of you, pushing it forward in a silent prompt for you to read it.

And now here you were, bombarded with information about a murder you were pretty sure you were not qualified to deal with, at least judging by your contractual obligations. You had half a mind to ask if you'd be getting paid more if you worked on the case, but you bit your tongue from the overwhelming feeling of uneasiness creeping up your spine.

“Of course, I don't expect you to understand things so quickly.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his comment. “But surely you've gathered by now that you have been assigned as an assistant to this case.”

“That much is obvious,” you couldn't help but retort. “The question is still why?”

“I was meant to be assigned to this case, but the crime rate has spiked in recent months. I have bigger issues to deal with, so the Commission decided that we need someone that can slip under the radar.”

Ah, so they just needed some cannon fodder. Part of you thought you should've expected as much from the Commission.

“I still think I'm terribly underqualified to be working on this case.”

Enji leaned back into his chair, tapping one of his armrests with his index finger. “So do I, but you'll be working under detective Takami.” He heaved a sigh and allowed a sarcastic undertone to lace his voice, “Who should've been here to give you a quick overview of the case progression so far, but who are we to count on his punctuality?”

Wait a second, working under who?

You blinked and did a double take at him, replaying his words in your mind as if trying to dissect their meaning. This was fantastic in the worst possible way. Not only did you practically have a murder case of a prominent agent dropped into your inexperienced and unsuspecting arms, you were now the right hand of the second best detective of the Commission, Keigo Takami.

If only you had these kinds of odds bestowed upon you if you played the lottery, surely you'd have won enough to ditch this job.

You thought back to what Enji had just revealed to you and couldn't shake the feeling that there was a different reason why they would ask an officer to help with this case, other than just “slipping under the radar”. With one of the best detectives taking over, you figured the Commission wouldn't be stupid enough to allow someone like you to get in the way of the investigation.

As the questions multiplied in your mind, your tongue was tied, unable to figure out a way to put your doubts into words, especially since you knew Enji would do nothing to soothe them.

There was a knock on the door breaking your train of thought, before it opened to reveal detective Takami, an easygoing smile etched on his lips, his gloved hands buried inside the pockets of his shearling jacket, with only one coming up to push his aviator sunglasses that were resting on the bridge of his nose to the top of his head.

“Sorry I missed the introductions,” he said, “but I'm sure we weren't called here just to chat.”

“At last you grace us with your presence, detective. A little while longer and our officer here would've taken over the case in your stead.”

You whipped your head towards Enji, almost ready to ask him if he was serious, before you looked back at Keigo to see him meet your gaze.

“I'm Keigo Takami, it's a pleasure to meet you.” He gave you a charming smile and extended his hand for you to shake. You grasped it firmly and introduced yourself. “So, were you one of the first responders at the scene?”

“Actually,” Enji interjected, “the officer is unfamiliar with the case at the moment, save for the basic details.”

“Oh?” Keigo frowned in confusion.

“As of today, this is your new assistant in this case.”

Keigo blinked a few times, then shook his head and huffed a laugh. “I'm sorry. What? An officer? Not that I mean to doubt your judgement or anything, but isn't this case a little too sensitive for an officer to deal with?” He turned towards you. “No offence.”

“None taken, I'm a little confused myself.”

Enji sighed and massaged his temple with one hand before he leaned forward. “You see, your role in this case will be a little more... 'hands-on' than usual. I mentioned we don't have any concrete suspects, but we do have an idea of the organisation that might be responsible for the murder, which is why we need to employ your help for the investigation.”

“I don't see how this is anything new,” Keigo said. “We've been investigating the League for a while, they operate in this area. Tying them to this murder would be the most obvious first step.”

“The League?” you interfered.

Enji raised an eyebrow at you. “Are you familiar with them?”

“Uh, yeah.” Your eyes shifted between the two men watching you. “They've made a name for themselves amongst the police officers. We've been trying to catch a few of them in the act but they always slip away.”

“Unsurprising for the police force,“ Enji scoffed and you frowned. “Let's hope we won't have the same disappointing results in this case. We have no time to waste on pathetic failures.”

Keigo looked at you from the corner of his eye and noticed the way your shoulders tensed up. He leaned over and dug his hand into the bowl of sweets on the desk, effectively catching both of your attentions. With a fistful of candy, he resumed his questions for Enji who was dishing out your responsibilities.

“So is this about the NOMU Program?”

Enji's eyes narrowed. “How do you know about that program? It's classified information, even for you.”

Keigo shrugged and shoved some more candy into his mouth. “If it is about that, I'd argue that's even more reason why we shouldn't drag an officer into this.”

“Sorry,” you interjected. “What is the NOMU Program?”

“Don't concern yourself with things outside of your duties,” Enji snapped.

“Come now, let's be courteous with our colleague,” Keigo said with a light-hearted tone before turning to you. “It's a codename used by the League. We figured it stands for Network of Metahumanoid Units. A fancy name that's probably got to do with their attempts at reanimating corpses.”

Fuck, so now you were dealing with zombies? Sure, technology as a whole was impressive, but it was nowhere near sophisticated enough to bring someone back from the dead. As far as you knew, every attempt to reverse death was futile. So then why would someone bother?

Enji noticed the confusion in your eyes and spoke before you could ask any questions. "They're planning to use them as weapons. Keigo called them corpses because essentially that's what they are: on the brink of brain death.”

“The only reason why they don't collapse is because the League is pumping them full of a drug called Trigger that boosts their baser powers,” Keigo continued, earning an annoyed glare from Enji at how readily he presented the classified information to you. “We've only had a few attacks reported so far, and we weren't sure what exactly we were dealing with, so we had our top agents deployed to deal with them. Which is why the police weren't mobilised.”

“Sounds like a pretty important omission to me,” you countered with a frown. “So is this what we're dealing with here? Drugged up zombies?”

“We're still unsure,” Keigo answered. “If this victim was supposed to be part of the NOMU Program, then we wouldn't have a body cut up into pieces on our hands. Maybe they're trying to send a message.”

“That's where you two come in," Enji announced. "This time, you will not be dealing with any forensic analysis, suspect interrogation or evidence collection. Instead, you two will act as our eyes and ears and infiltrate the League.”

An insurmountable amount of pressure crashed over you and clenched your muscles in a vice grip, to the point where you almost felt as if it would crack your bones at any moment. You tried to control your expression in an attempt to stop your shock from washing over your face, but surely the vein that started throbbing painfully in your temple was enough proof.

“Hold on.” You raised your hand again to signal for Enji to slow down. “You mean to tell me you called me here to act as your spy?”

Enji scowled. “I don't like it either. They shouldn't send a rookie in for such a big case. I should've been the lead, but it wasn't my decision to make, so I suggest you suck it up and do your job.”

Your voice was exasperated, “There are so many ways that this could go wrong if you send me out there! I'd just hold detective Takami back!”

“I have to agree,” Keigo said. “It's best if I work on my own as usual.”

“Well you see, Takami, things are not so easy in this line of work,” Enji snarled, then produced two folders from his briefcase and stood up, handing them to you and Keigo. “Commission's orders and instructions. Read them thoroughly. Good luck with the mission detective, officer.”

And with that, he stepped out of the room and you felt as if all oxygen made an exit along with him, your heart pounding in your chest so hard you could almost hear it through the grave silence that fell over the room as you read the instructions:

“Officer,

As of today you will refer to yourself as Rook and to your mission partner as Hawks. Forget your real name. Return your weapons, badge, uniform and any other equipment that may be in your possession at the reception of the PCS HQ.

While infiltrated do not contact anyone outside including family members, friends, acquaintances and other PSC employees except for your partner.

You will not have any accolades attached to your name. Your achievements will not be disclosed by the PSC if you succeed. You will receive no posthumous awards if you die. This is your duty to fight for the people. Failure to comply could result in dismissal, sanctions and/or prosecution.

Destroy this document after reading.”

This job was so not worth it.

You watched the grainy screen of the tube TV perched in a corner of the office intently, listening to the news broadcasted somberly by the anchor along with your colleagues. Keigo was by your side, expertly twirling a pen in his fingers, but his focus was zeroed in on the screen, his nose and mouth buried in the raised collar of his jacket.

After the discovery of the body of the Commission's agent, the disappearances around Musutafu increased by a concerning margin. What was worse was that not all of them were agents, some were simply civilians that seemingly had powerful or useful builts and abilities, like the person whose face was now on the screen, their name, last known location and clothes they were last seen wearing listed underneath the picture.

You crossed your arms over your chest and frowned. If this was what you were dealing with, even with your training and experience you were unsure how you'd survive as a double agent. You had no special skill, no upper-hand tactic and you couldn't rely on Keigo—Hawks—for fear that you'd hold him back and compromise the mission.

With how they had you bring back anything that would suggest you'd ever had any contact with the Commission, it really seemed as if they were trying to erase any trace of your existence. This job was all you had, all you ever worked for since you were just a bright-eyed trainee at the police academy, ready to take on any danger coming your way if it meant you could save someone else from it.

How naïve.

Maybe you should've just given up when you were still a child, still able to choose a path that would fit you and your capabilities more. The society in which you lived was unforgiving to weak people, so you had to adapt. But women were not always respected in the police force, and those who were got there because of their network rather than their own abilities more often than not. Not to mention that a police officer's chances of advancing without having someone behind them were close to none.

In other words, there was no way out for you. But at least you weren't exactly the perfect catch for whatever the League was planning, by the looks of things.

From the fog of your worries, you felt Hawks tap your shoulder to catch your attention. His collar was now pushed down neatly and you could see the serious way in which his lips were pursed. He gestured with his head for you to follow him and you complied with a nod.

You reached his office, after stopping by your desk to collect the last bits and pieces you had left laying around, and sat down in front of his desk, one hand worriedly rubbing your chin as you looked out the window. His eyes never left you as he sat down and leaned back in his chair, the pen he was playing with earlier still in his hands. He watched carefully as your brows turned downward in a frown that casted a shadow of concern over your eyes, before he put the pen down on the desk, the sound making you turn to look at him.

“I know you're worried,” he started, “but I want you to know I won't let anything happen to you.”

You let your hands fall into your lap. “Please, don't worry about me. I don't want to be a drawback in this mission.”

“You won't be,” he said, but noticed you were unconvinced when the corner of your lip lifted in what was supposed to be a polite smile, but didn't quite reach your eyes. “You graduated as the top eighth trainee in the police academy, surpassing like, what, 22 of your classmates? That's pretty impressive.” You stared at him in a mix of confusion and surprise and he shrugged nonchalantly. “I've read your file. You've got a lot of potential, officer.”

You smiled and nodded as thanks. In the past, this kind of compliment would've left you feeling all warm and fuzzy on the inside, feeding into your pride and fuelling your determination to get even better. But now, the comment felt like tossing a coin down an endless pit, nowhere near enough to fill the hollow space in your chest and, despite its value, ultimately useless. When did your outlook on your job get so sour?

Maybe it was when you were put up for disciplinary action after attempting to stop one of your fellow officers from brutalising a murder suspect. Or maybe when you had one case shut down because the culprit was the daughter of an acclaimed attorney that somehow found the perfect team of lawyers to render the evidence null. Or maybe it was simply after you had graduated from the academy and were thrown out into the real world. Any way, perhaps this was the universe's way of making up for all the times it fucked up. By giving you a new opportunity.

You picked up the pen from Hawks's desk and fiddled with it. “Officer, huh? I thought my new name was Rook.”

Hawks chuckled. “They're really terrible at picking codenames, huh? Sounds like we're just two bird enthusiasts with no imagination.”

You chuckled at his comment and after a moment you bent down to rummage through the box in which you had collected your remaining possessions from your desk, pulling out a document. You opened it, quickly finding the file in which you and Hawks took notes about your action plan.

“So,” you started, scrolling through the notes, “you were saying you already have a way to get inside the League?”

Hawks leaned forward on his elbows to get a better look at the notes. “Well, yes and no. Enji didn't tell you this, but remember how I said we've been investigating the League for a while? Well, I've been in contact with one of the members. I managed to get close enough for him to think I'll soon defect and join them.”

“So you've been planning to go undercover for a while now?”

“It's the only way I could squeeze any information out of them. They seem pretty loyal to their cause, so getting one of them to become an informant for the PSC was highly unlikely.”

You nodded in thought. “So who's your contact?”

“A guy named Dabi.”

Your blood ran cold and your eyes shot up to Hawks. You knew that name too well. Not only was he notoriously known among the law enforcement as one of the most dangerous members of the League, but he was the person responsible for numerous counts of arson in your area, courtesy of his pyromaniacal tendencies. You'd been trying to find a way to get closer to catching him for years. Each time, he slipped out of your hands, your attempts always too late or too little.

You knew what Dabi was capable of, and without the comfort of a self defence weapon and protective equipment by your side, you feared you'd be turned to ash before you even tried to get any information out of the League.

You stared through Hawks for a few seconds. His eyes searched your expression as he frowned in confusion at your sudden change. You noticed that and blinked a few times, clearing your throat.

“So this contact is our ticket inside, but how do I get him to trust me? I think I'd be found out before I even get to talk to him.”

“No need to worry, I'll send him your way somehow. You then offer to be their informant. We'll have to act separately to avoid raising suspicion, so if we cross paths, try acting like you don't know me personally.”

You nodded in acknowledgement then remained quiet for a second before frowning in thought.

“I don't understand. If you already have an in, then why would the Commission send me to help?”

Hawks sighed. “You heard what the Commission said, you'll be the bait.” He leaned back in his chair. “The League is reluctant to let me join because I'm a well-known detective. They know who I am and what I do, but they don't know you. If you manage to convince them you're also just a crooked law enforcer, that would be the last step we need to finally get inside.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

Hawks regarded you thoughtfully, tilting his head and looking you up and down. His scrutinising eyes seemed to glow as the final rays of dusk poured through the blinds of his office window. Before he even spoke, you knew that his idea would not be to your liking.

“Say, how comfortable are you with flirting?”

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #smut #x female reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #hawks x reader x dabi

[snnrinc]

GET KOSA TRENDING.

STOP SCROLLING NOW!

AS OF FEBRUARY 21ST, 2024, WE GOT FIVE DAYS UNTIL THE DAY OF DECISION OF THE KOSA BILL, WHICH WILL CAUSE MASS CENSORSHIP ROUND THE INTERNET IF PASSED. OR DOOMSDAY. WE NEED EVERYONE TO KNOW ABOUT THIS AND CONTRIBUTE. I'M NOT GIVING UP ON YOU ALL.

WE'RE DOWN TO THE WIRE BUT WE CAN'T GIVE UP YET. IF WE GIVE UP, EVERYTHING IS OVER. IF WE DON'T, AT LEAST WE HAVE A CHANCE.

I'M THE ONE WHO SOUNDED THE ALARM, AND I'M NOT GOING TO CURL UP AND DIE YET.

Reblog this post in every LEGAL way you can under the Tumblr guidelines with the appropriate tags. TELL AND TAG EVERYONE YOU KNOW, then add the tags to see below... and more if you can think of any complying.

Visit badinternetbills.com if you want to find a way to defeat KOSA. It WILL NOT take much of your time. Reblog with any other information or sources, too-- but make sure to reblog if you can.

Reblog if you support lgbtq+ content.

Reblog if you support questioning queer youth and/or abused youth getting the information they need.

Reblog if you support Ao3 and/or other sites that wholeheartedly preserve talentedly made media.

Reblog if you're going to repost this on other sites than Tumblr and spread the word across Twitter, Tik Tok, Pinterest, or elsewhere, alongside the link to badinternetbills.com.

Reblog if you think KOSA is unfair and shouldn't be anyone's problem -- including the adults ALL OVER THE DAMN EARTH forced to face the mass censorship it causes because "think of the American Children!".

Reblog if you support internet activism and Palestine.

Reblog if you hate fascism or censorship, and don't want actually serious and helpful conversations censored on the internet.

Reblog if you value the internet in any way at all whatsoever.

CHECK THIS PETITION, TOO! https://www.change.org/p/stop-the-kosa?recruiter=1331807538&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=sms&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_initial&utm_term=psf&recruited_by_id=57368c40-d0fd-11ee-98f7-2175430f819f&share_bandit_exp=initial-36809664-en-US

(Also, please reblog with at least "stop kosa" as a tag and not "kosa". I made the mistake of not adding just "kosa" as a tag...)

We won't let this stand any longer. Let's start a riot and get this trending.

#boost #reblogs #Stop kosa #kosa bill

[snnrinc]

I cannot stress enough how dangerous KOSA is.

killing safe spaces endangers people's lives. many minors and people in marginalized groups losing online friends and spaces can and will kill many people's happiness and in the worst case, the will to live.

I personally keep going because of my online friends. I will lose them if KOSA passes.

this is the same case for many minors (and adults) online.

censoring sexual health will be terrible for many. if there are people out there having sex without knowing the proper safety precautions to take to prevent injury/illness, it will be massively horrific.

all outcry for a ceasefire in Palestine and activism will be censored to oblivion.

if there are people who live in unsafe households, they might never be able to find safety until they become adults, which is far too late.

KOSA is a sick attempt to make the internet a place where there are few ways to be safe.

stop KOSA. it will literally save fucking lives.

sign petitions to stop it. please. spread awareness.

#reblogs #fuck kosa #stop kosa #kosa bill #kosa #this is a horrific thing to happen for people who want to stay informed and help Palestine #same for young people who have a safe space online #the world is already fucked #can we do something to make it at least a little bit better for once

[snnrinc]

"Please, you can still call me Homelander."

I know nothing about Homelander except for the fact that I am now in love with him.

I am honestly SCREAMING INTERNALLY after reading this, holy shit. This fic is a work of art much like Stuart's painting and I wish I had the necessary words to express just how much I adore your writing style, descriptions and metaphors. The dialogue feels so authentic and Homelander is so precious getting so nervous and yet so excited. You wrote it with just the perfect balance of physical and emotional feelings and I love that so much ❤️

The Athenaeum Portrait

18+ 4.7k homelander x f!reader. established relationship, first time having sex, reader has a complicated relationship with sex, abuse of superpowers for cunnilingus, overstimulation, penetrative sex, lite sublander, praise kink, slight coercion, unhealthy dynamics, implied codependency, implied verbal abuse. just covering my bases here.

For every moment of love that is warm bliss on a summer afternoon, it is also an exercise in stumbling wildly in the dark. Never has this been more true in the case of Homelander, a man whose broken edges and unfinished seams have hardened into hazards that threaten to ensnare and maim anyone who steps too close.

You wouldn't have him any other way.

inspired by this anonymous prompt. thank you! 🖤

Homelander did not enter your life so much as he bull-rushed into it, a living whirlwind that uprooted you and hurled you into a familiar yet strange new world as unceremoniously as the tornado that took Dorothy to Oz. 

Vought Tower sparkles just as vibrant as the Emerald City, and provides no less surreal of a backdrop to your new life. Homelander's penthouse is a bizarre caricature of personhood, loaded with hundreds of years of American history. It would ring false, just another aspect of his brand, if not for the fact he can—and often does—regale you with a laundry list of historical facts on any piece in the collection.

This is how you find out that Gilbert Stuart is one of his favorite painters. When you ask Homelander why that is, he shrugs. "He painted over a thousand portraits, and he's most famous for the one he didn't finish. Ironic, huh?"

The Athenaeum Portrait, it's called. An unfinished portrait of George Washington that was replicated and sold by Stuart over a hundred times before his death.

The original was never completed.

The more time you spend in proximity to him, the more you start to understand why the piece resonates with him. You see replicas of him sold throughout the world on a daily basis, his face synonymous with Vought’s branding. There is a completeness to the commercial image of Homelander, America’s wholesome hero, but behind closed doors, you see his frayed and unfinished edges.

You feel his desperation for someone who will complete him in the way he touches you. He takes hold of your hands and brings them to the places where he is sketched at best, a ready and yielding canvas for your fingers. He likes when you stroke his hair, and sometimes touching his face turns his eyes glassy. There is a woundedness to the way he seeks your love, like he’s never entirely sure whether to expect the carrot or the stick.

You’ve never raised the stick to him, but it’s clear that those who came before you certainly did. It’s difficult to imagine that a man as powerful as him has been hurt like this, but he is a painfully obvious man at times, wearing his emotions like the scars his impervious body will never show.

When you lie down to read on the couch, he’s drawn to you like a magnet. He has no problem making space for himself within your bubble, sprawling on top of you, snaking his arms around your middle, his head settled on your sternum. You smile to yourself and rest your book on the top of his head as you read.

He gives a small grunt of complaint, but you’re fairly certain he’s smiling, too.

For every night of domestic bliss, so too are there sudden perils. Unexplained nights of absence, wild mood swings, fits of paranoia. He fights as many battles in his own mind as he does on the city streets and on foreign soil, a living weapon used to the fullest extent by Vought and the American government.

It feels like you lose him temporarily, like he becomes someone else. He paces around you like a caged tiger with his teeth bared, daring you to give him a reason to bite. You never do, and he never does, but sometimes you worry just how close of a call it was.

Occasionally he comes to you spattered in muck and bloody viscera. On these nights, he can’t seem to comprehend your presence, your gentleness, your love. It’s as if these concepts ring false in the wake of everything he has been made to endure. It’s suspicious to him that you would love something so repulsive, so opposite of everything Vought has polished his image into being.

He screams at you for this, takes you by the shoulders and demands you explain what he cannot understand, but you can’t. You can’t explain something that you don’t always understand.

Your relationship with Homelander is a delicious, precarious thing. Like a perfectly ripe peach, its closeness to something bruised and rotten makes it all the sweeter.

When things are good, they’re very good. He’s sweet, a romantic who learned everything he knows about romance from jewelry ads and Valentine’s Day specials. He brings you roses on random days of the week and adores showering you in gifts, especially the kind you wear. He tends to gravitate towards soft, velvety fabrics for your clothes because he likes the feel of them. He buys you perfumes that smell like vanilla and pink pepper. He likes fresh, warm scents. Nothing too floral or artificial.

Most importantly, he likes you. There’s rarely a day that the two of you don’t make each other laugh. His sense of humor is strange, but in the same way that yours is. Sometimes it feels like you’re two aliens creating a brand new language that only the two of you will ever know. The more time you spend together, the less the people outside of your relationship seem to understand you.

Not that it matters much. You spend the majority of your time with him these days, consumed by the excitement of this thrilling new thing the two of you share. Homelander is profoundly tactile, always needing to feel or touch you in some way. He loves to kiss you, content to make out languidly with you until your lips start to chap.

You’ve learned to keep lip balm on hand at all times.

Inevitably though, his hunger for intimacy outgrows quaint touches and kisses. You’re cuddled up together on his couch, only half paying attention to the movie playing. Homelander is nuzzling at your neck, pressing warm, wet kisses to it while his gloved hand slips beneath your shirt, fondling your breast through your bra. There’s something endearingly innocent about it, like a fumbling teenager piloting the body of a man in his forties.

Sex is nice enough. You have nothing against the act, but you’ve never felt as though you get as much out of it as the partners you’ve had in the past. Homelander’s touch feels good to you because it’s his, and because you know he wants to make you feel good in his enjoyment of you. You reciprocate by pushing your fingers into his hair, nails scraping along his scalp, eliciting a sweet, rumbling moan from him against your neck.

“Want you,” he mumbles fervently against your skin, his need so palpable it gives you goosebumps. “Can I have you?”

You knew this was coming. It’s not that you don’t want to fuck him, it’s that he’s not the only one whose portrait feels incomplete. You’re a fully grown adult, and never in your life have you managed to pleasure yourself to completion. In your youth, you’d just faked it for partners once you’d had your fill. With Homelander, you’re not even sure that would work. You’re not sure you would want it to.

He’s got a thing about lies, even little white ones.

You swallow and softly say, “Yes.” Ultimately, you do want him to have you. You just hope that what he gets doesn’t disappoint him.

He smiles into the crook of your neck, withdrawing his hand from beneath your shirt. He kisses you as he gathers you effortlessly up into his arms, carrying you to his bedroom. His strength is another aspect of why sex has made you nervous: the internet is full of horror stories of accidental sexual mutilation occurring between humans and supes. 

However, Homelander seems hyper aware of your fragility versus his power. He’s never harmed you. It seems to come naturally to him after years and years of navigating a world not made to withstand him. In the same way you’re capable of handling an egg without shattering it, he has learned how to hold you.

He lays you down on the bed, and then begins the ritual of shedding his signature suit, starting with his belt. You recline, content to watch him, but your gaze seems to make him uncharacteristically self conscious. You’ve never seen him without his suit before, another little quirk that you’ve largely just accepted to this point.

“Aren’t you gonna…” He gestures vaguely to you, expecting you to undress as well.

“Just enjoying the show,” you say coyly, attempting to lighten up a bit of the tension in his expression.

It doesn’t work. The furrow of his brows deepens slightly. “Ah, well. Y’know, the suit, they uh, pad it up some, so don’t–it’s different,” he says, fumbling over his words.

Your expression softens. “I know. It’s okay. I’m excited to see you,” you say, sitting up. In solidarity, you pull your shirt off first, and then wiggle out of your pants, kicking them off the bed. Homelander smiles at this, and works his pants off the rest of the way, kicking off his boots as well, leaving behind just a pair of dark red briefs. You sit up on your knees to help him with the fastenings of his suit top, which he seems to be the most apprehensive about.

To distract him from it, you kiss him. He melts eagerly into the press of your lips, slipping his tongue between yours with that same hunger to taste, to feel, to have. He’s bolder now that you’re no longer playing the part of spectator, shrugging his top from his shoulders and letting it fall with a surprisingly heavy thud to the floor. His ungloved hands skim up your sides, warm and positively thrumming with excitement.

You explore him as well, mapping out the slopes of his body that have previously been hidden from you. He’s leaner, more manageable than the ridiculous bulk of the suit. Part of you had always assumed there was a level of exaggeration in the chiseled, over the top musculature of the suit, but his build is still more slender than you expected. Regardless, it does nothing to detract from his raw strength as he catches you by the backs of your thighs and flips you onto your back, startling out a giddy bark of laughter from you.

He grins down at you, descending to catch you in another slow, consuming kiss, making space for himself between your legs. His lips trail from yours to the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck. He turns his head to messily suck two fingers into his mouth, and then slips his hand down the front of your underwear. He finds your clit with surprising precision–someone definitely taught him that–and begins to rub slow figure-eights over it, as gentle as he is deft. It does feel good, so you close your eyes and try to simply enjoy it for what it is, for the touch and warmth and intimacy of it all.

It doesn’t matter if you don’t come. This is still nice. You can feel his desire for you in the heat of his body, in the hot huffs of his breath wafting across your skin between kisses. He eventually slips a single finger inside you, patiently working you open. You drag your nails up his back and into his hair, breathing deeply, willing your mind to pause and let you experience this pleasantry in the same way you would a hot bath or a nice massage.

However, no matter how you try, the looming matter of expectation weighs heavily on your mind. You’ve never been comfortable with the attention being solely on your pleasure: it feels like dangling a treat in front of someone on a treadmill. They’re running for something they’ll never reach.

“Hey,” Homelander calls quietly, yanking you from your mental downward spiral. You see him above you, no longer tucked against you, working your skin with his lips and teeth. His brows are slightly furrowed. “You’re quiet. Am I doing something wrong?”

“No,” you exhale, the question immediately putting a wash of guilt through you. “No, not at all, feels good. I’m just really in my head right now,” you admit, cupping either side of his face. “You’re doing great, I’m ready. I want you inside me,” you tell him in a breathless flurry, pulling him down into a kiss. 

He does relax at that, sinking in against you for a moment before lifting himself back up. He shucks his underwear down and then pulls yours off as well, lifting both of your legs over his shoulder as he slips the panties completely off of you. While he does that, you unclasp and toss your bra aside. He turns his head to kiss the side of your leg before he lowers them both back down around his waist, lowering himself back down atop you.

The thick head of his cock presses wetly to your cunt, sliding up and down, spreading his slick and yours. You can already feel his excitement in the tension of his body, his shoulders drawn tight beneath your hands. You knead them, rolling your palms against steel-woven muscle. “That’s it,” you encourage, working to relax the both of you. “Nice and slow, mmm… Fuck, you’re big,” you say, biting your lip as he spreads you around the girth of his cock.

“You’re tight,” he moans in response, already sounding frayed. He moves his hips in slow, slightly jerky motions–clearly holding back for your comfort–until he finally bottoms out, keening so sweetly in your ear you can’t help but stroke his hair, hushing him.

“Good, good, feel so good in me,” you coo, the words a familiar script. He shudders for the praise, kissing down your chest, mouthing hungrily at your breast, the same he’d been fondling earlier. His mouth is hot and wet, perfectly pleasant as he sucks at your nipple, moaning into your skin. You cradle his head in both hands, adjusting to the onslaught of sensation. 

It’s been awhile since anyone fucked you. The feel of it is just as alien as you remember, but you’re distracted by the persistent swirl of his tongue alternating with the pull of his lips as he lavishes attention on one breast, and then the other. With his bare skin against yours, you’re more aware than ever of the superhuman frequency of his body, how he seems to literally vibrate with restraint and eagerness in equal measure. It’s like there is a line of semi trucks driving by you, the bed itself buzzing with it.

“You’re amazing,” you marvel quietly, tightening your legs on either side of him to feel that preternatural hum against even more of your skin, tingling your inner thighs. “You feel amazing.”

He grunts out a needy, strained noise at that, followed by a jagged thrust deep into you. To your surprise, you realize then that he’s coming apart, dull nails biting crescent marks into your skin, clutching you as tightly as he dare allow himself. You thought that maybe his powers would give him superhuman stamina as well, that he might fuck you raw before he came, but if the shaky cadence of his thrusts are any indication, he’s already holding himself back.

“I can feel how bad you wanna come,” you murmur, carding your fingers through his hair. “Mm? You can, you can come in me,” you say, feeling his whole body shiver from your words. You clench, tightening up around his cock so suddenly that it makes him gasp.

“Fffuck, fuck, oh god, y’can’t–fucking Christ, you–mmm, fuck!” He rasps, choking on his own breath as he comes, burying his face between your breasts at the same time he slams in deep, fading into tight, erotic little whimpers as he loses himself to the rhythmic clench of your cunt. You do it purposefully, milking him of his orgasm, enamored with how thoroughly you’ve reduced a demigod to these simpering noises. The flood of come is hot inside you, already dripping out where your bodies are connected.

All that, and he still never lost control. You doubt his fingerprints will even bruise, though you find a part of yourself wishing they would. 

Homelander comes down gradually from his high, limp against you, breathing shallowly against your skin. He looks dazed, eyes only half open. It’s cute, which isn’t a word you necessarily would have ever thought to associate with The Homelander before you started dating him. When he looks up at you, you smile, already more satisfied than you’ve been with sex in your life.

“That was playing dirty,” he tells you, voice a touch fried.

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” you respond simply, watching as he nuzzles into your hand.

He rumbles out a low hum, kissing your palm. “Which means it’s my turn to make you feel good,” he says, moving to slide out of your hands. You stop him, taking hold of his arm.

“You don’t need to,” you assure him, tugging gently to lure him back up. “Really. That felt incredible.”

He frowns, looking every bit like a confused puppy. “But you didn’t come.”

“I know,” you say, that ball of tightness coiling back up in your gut. “It’s okay.”

He exhales an incredulous little scoff. “What kind of boyfriend d’you take me for? I’m gonna make you come,” he says, shrugging off your hand as he moves down your body, sliding out of you.

“Homelander,” you implore, reaching out for him. “Really, it’s okay, you don’t need to–”

“What, you don’t think I can?” He asks. You can see the challenge in his eyes, but you also recognize the potential of a stinging wound to his ego in those words.

You sigh, folding your arm over your eyes as you lay your head back. “It’s not that I don’t think you specifically can, I’m… Eugh.” You take a deep breath. “It’s not something that I do. I can’t. I’ve never been able to,” you say to the darkness of your arm, fingers rolling apprehensively. “And I don’t want you to take this as some kind of challenge, and then be upset when it doesn’t happen,” you say, speaking from very specific experience.

The space between you is silent for long enough that your curiosity beats out your apprehension, and you lower your arm. Homelander stares at you from between your legs, expression pinched, eyes flickering slightly, as if he’s solving the world’s most complicated puzzle in his brain. His eyes narrow softly, his bewilderment showing.

“Like… You haven’t come… Ever?”

“Ever,” you confirm. “It’s not that I haven’t tried, there’s just something broken.”

He processes that a moment longer. “But all of this still felt good, at least… Yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course it did, I liked it. You really do feel amazing,” you assure him, lest he think you were lying with what you said earlier. “It just never finishes for me. That’s all.”

“Alright,” he says, the gears in his brain clearly turning. “So. Sure, no crossing the finish line, but I can still, y’know. Take you for a cruise? A little joyride?” He asks, making you laugh softly.

He really is cute. Sweeter than one might expect, too.

“A joyride?” You echo with a quirk of your brow, smiling.

He smiles, too. “Yeah. No destination, just a little drive.”

“I can do a little drive,” you say, feeling that knot of tension in your gut begin to untangle itself.

“Good,” he purrs, shouldering down between your legs. “Gimme that pillow,” he says, which you promptly do. He slides it under your ass, adjusting your hips until the angle is just right. He smooths his hands up and down the outsides of your thighs, glancing up at you. “Now, you just sit back and relax. Close your eyes, and imagine some smooth jazz.”

“I hate jazz,” you laugh.

He laughs as well, breath rolling over your wet pussy in hot waves. “Well, fuck, imagine something you do like.”

Relaxing back against the bed, you exhale a deep breath, closing your eyes. The first wet, hot slide of his tongue makes you jump a little. He responds by gripping your thighs and pinning you still, which does admittedly run a little thrill up your spine. You test his grip by pushing against it, and when that fails, pulling away, but neither grant you any leeway.

“Squirming already?” He asks between drags of his tongue.

“I like feeling your strength,” you say through a pleased little smile.

He gives an intrigued hum at that and spreads your legs wider, forcing them down against the bed. To even your surprise, that pushes a little moan out of you. Encouraged, he presses his tongue inside, lapping up the mess he made inside you. It feels fine enough, but after a bit of his tongue pushing in and out of you, you give his hair a little tug. “Clit,” you say simply, a command he happily obliges, drawing back up to suck your clit between his lips.

Without the looming pressure to achieve some kind of euphoric release at the end, you find yourself more capable of simply enjoying this for what it is. Homelander is good at this, but it’s really his persistence that elevates the experience. At no point do you feel him begin to waver or slow, or shift and breathe in impatience. He’s relentlessly consistent, swirling his tongue and lapping at you like he’s starved for the taste.

You sigh, idly scratching his scalp as you toy with his hair. “Mmm, that feels good,” you say, more aware of the effect your praises have on him. He makes an appreciative noise, nuzzling into your cunt. One odd thing is that your clit is starting to ache in a way you’re unfamiliar with. You shift back a touch, but Homelander pulls you right back in.

“Greedy,” you accuse, which draws a low laugh from him, the rumble of it making you shiver a little. You must be growing oversensitized. You’ve lost track of how long he’s been at this.

He pulls back, and the cool air almost stings for the loss of his hot mouth, but that ache was beginning to grow uncomfortable anyways. You’re just about to thank him for his service when a whole new sensation steals the words right off your tongue. You don’t even know how to describe it: hot, pressure, but weightless. Your whole body jerks, but Homelander keeps you still, forces you to endure whatever the fuck it is he’s doing now.

“Wh-what the fuck is that?” Watching him, comprehension dawns; he’s blowing on your clit, lips pursed, forcing out a concentrated stream of warm, almost hot air that has your thighs quivering in his grasp. “Oh fuck,” you gasp, equal parts bewildered and overwhelmed. You try to close your knees, but once again, his hold is completely unrelenting, keeping them spread wide. Immediately that same ache is skyrocketing back up, spreading tightness low in your belly.

“Hold on,” you groan, gripping his hair tighter. You expect it to end before too long, for him to at least need to inhale, but beyond all logic and reason, he just keeps going. The heat of it is surreal, the weightless pressure of it constant. Your toes curl, heels digging into the bed, and you moan.

Homelander’s gaze flickers up to meet yours, nothing pure wicked delight in his eyes. Just as suddenly, he descends upon you, tongue feeling hotter and wetter than ever as he dotes on your clit with it, focusing it with alarming precision. The abrupt change in sensation makes you thrash, stumbling over a stream of nonsense as you pull at his hair, that aching tightness now so prominent that you can hardly take in a breath.

“That’s enough, that’s–fuck, Homelander, it’s too much, it’s too much, s-stop, s–” your pleas erupt into another moan because he’s focusing that stream of air right back on you again, the feel of it so surreal, so indescribable that your brain can hardly function around it. Your eyes roll back, you writhe, but he’s so much stronger than you’d ever really wrapped your mind around. He’s entirely unyielding in a way he’s never felt in your arms, against your body on the couch. He’s more inhuman than he’s ever been, and it’s driving you wild. 

Tears gather in your eyes. This  assault of sensation walks the knife’s edge of pain, but never quite falls over it. Your whole body is throbbing, and you feel like you’re going to fucking explode. He twists that knife by taking you again with his tongue, swirling and slick in contrast to the dry pressure of his breath.

“H-Homelander, Homelander, please, I’m–I’m–fuck!”

The world turns white, and suddenly you can’t breathe. You hear yourself make a noise you’ve never heard before, but it might as well not even be you. You’re somewhere outside of your own body, floating in a torrent of indescribable sensory input that is so alien to you, you don’t even feel real anymore. Homelander isn’t holding you still anymore, but you can still feel him slowly lapping at your throbbing clit, watching you through foggy eyes as he licks you through your first orgasm, no doubt tasting and smelling the endorphins that flood your body.

Every single taut muscle in your body snaps like the strings of a marionette, leaving you to collapse limply on the bed, panting through it as your soul gradually descends back down into your body. Blissfully, Homelander ceases his torment and joins you, laying sideways with his head propped up in his palm while his other hand rests on your hip, thumb rubbing soothing circles. 

“Oh my God,” you whisper eventually.

“Please, you can still call me Homelander,” he says, sounding just as smug as one would expect him to be after such an accomplishment. If you had any power whatsoever left in your lifeless arm, you’d smack him. However, he quickly makes up for it by drawing you gently into his arms, kissing your forehead. 

“I can’t believe you did that,” you say, more malleable than ever as he adjusts you both beneath the blankets. “I thought I was going to die.” It’s only a slight hyperbole.

Homelander laughs softly, beaming at you with pink cheeks and a sly, delighted little smile. “See? Nothing’s broken,” he murmurs at your ear, catching you off guard. That had been such an offhand remark, you didn’t expect to hear it come back around.

“What if I hadn’t? What if all that, and nothing happened?” You ask, adjusting slightly while he entangles his limbs with yours, bodies slotting together like jigsaw pieces. You’re both jagged in all the right ways, fitting nicely together.

He gives a small shrug, stroking his knuckles up and down your spine. “Still would’a been a hell of a ride. Not everything has to be finished to be good.”

Slowly, you smile. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

Loving Homelander isn’t always easy or good. There are times when he makes it hard, and there are times when you make it hard, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned in this lifetime, nothing worth doing is ever easy. Love may start as an incidental thing, a passion that ignites as readily as tinder, but the upkeep of it is more like pottery. It’s messy, and even once you get the shape of it right, you don’t always know how it will react to the heat necessary to give it solid form. It can be broken, it can be fixed, it can even be remade, but never is one the same as the last.

Still, even when it hurts, when it’s frustrating, when it doesn’t turn out the way you wanted it to, the euphoria of creating something so beautiful keeps you coming back to it. When the same love that burns you can also warm you against the cold, coat your throat like honey, and fill your night sky with stars to guide your way in darkness, it becomes impossible to let go of.

To love something is to heal it. Everything that is loved is beautiful, even things that are unsightly, unfinished, unappealing. Even things that are broken.

Finally, you think you understand why Stuart never finished his original painting.

He loved it precisely as it was.

#now I need to find out more about Homelander #as in how he likes his eggs cooked in the morning and his ring size #reblogs #homelander x reader #smut #homelander smut

[snnrinc]

First ever collab and I'm HYPED!! I'm sure everyone will have such amazing stories, can't wait to read them 😭

WWW.FREAKYONCAMERA COLLAB!

ꕤ hihi ! this was originally supposed to be for my 5k milestone, but since we reached 5.5k recently (thank u smm btw!!) in celebration, i’ll just do this now. this is sort of inspired by my mini cyber series back in april, and figured why not make this into a collab :) this is also my very first collab so i hope everything is clear and precise :) !!

ꕤ this collab will be for any interested smut writers and the theme is cyber s*x / cam! au. so you can write a cam! reader or cam! character(s) whichever to your liking is fine! this is purely based on the internet cyber world.

ꕤ status: open / closed

༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ rules + other info under the cut ! ◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ

RULES OF STREAM.

ꕤ you do not have to be following me to join! any smut writer is more than allowed.

ꕤ you must disclose somewhere on your blog that you are over the age of eighteen. ex: bio, carrd, or your pinned post.

ꕤ this is a multi-fandom anime/fiction collab. any fandom is welcome, whether it’s jjk, aot, one piece / or any other!

ꕤ all written characters must be canonically 18+ or have a canon time skip

ꕤ there’s no deadline ! everyone can work at their own pace because i wouldn’t want anyone to rush themselves. though i’ll state whenever this collab is closed.

ꕤ you can enter this collab up to three times!

ꕤ character repeats are allowed. if someone has a character you’d like to use, don’t worry!

ꕤ minimum word count is 500, so your fic can be as long as you’d like it to be.

HOW TO BE A STREAMER.

ꕤ to join this event, you can just send me an ask with your preferred character you’re using. example: “hi karma. can i join your collab with camboy! eren yeager x reader?”

ꕤ once i get your ask and give you the okay, reblogging this post is really encouraged (: i’ll tag you in this collab masterlist immediately afterwards with your preferred character.

ꕤ once you’re finished with your piece, make sure to tag me via @/kazushawty in the fic description so i can see it + link it in here, and use this hashtag -> #freakyoncameracollab

ꕤ this is again a smut dominated collab revolving around a cam!au setting, so that’s the theme. dc is permitted as long as it’s tagged accordingly.

ꕤ forgot to mention, but some cyber trope examples can be call!girl / call!boy / cam! character + reader / phone operator, facetime phone s*x, anything online around that setting basically! for any questions, you can just shoot me an ask (:

HOT STREAMERS NEAR YOU.

jujutsukaisen.chatroom

ꕤ camgirl! reader x camboy gojo x nanami kento streamed by @kazushawty

ꕤ toji x cam!girl reader streamed by @fuwushiguro

ꕤ callgirl!reader x toji fushiugro streamed by @hoshigray

ꕤ camgirl!reader x bestfriend gojo streamed by @rlvslouis

ꕤ p*rnstar gojo x cam!girl reader streamed by @getosbigballsack

ꕤ cam!girl reader x geto streamed by @preciousamethyst

ꕤ cam!girl reader x gojo streamed by @onlyseokmins

ꕤ asmr! artist geto x reader streamed by @heavenlyevil

ꕤ cam!girl reader x sukuna streamed by @sukunaspit

ꕤ p*rnstar geto x p*rnstar reader streamed by @kannarie

ꕤ camboy!gojo x reader streamed by @snnrinc

attackontitan.chatroom

ꕤ camgirl!reader x eren yeager streamed by @noritopia

ꕤ camgirl!reader x camboy!jean streamed by @luxesiren

ꕤ facetime phone s*x w/ connie springer streamed by @k2ssland

ꕤ phone-operator! reader x caller! reiner streamed by @todorosie

click here to stream -> next caller!

ꕤ model!reader x photographer connie s*x tape streamed by @neptunes1nterweb

ꕤ cam!boy armin x reader streamed by @kissingchoso

tokyorevengers.chatroom

ꕤ camboy!ran x cam!girl reader streamed by @wakashawty

ꕤ facetime s*x w/ chifuyu streamed by @fuyuswifey

click here to stream -> wish you were here right now!

ꕤ facetime s*x w/ takeomi akashi streamed by @kzzeyno

onepiece.chatroom

ꕤ ceo! zoro x cam!girl reader streamed by @junevenile

atsv.chatroom

ꕤ facetime phone s*x w/ hobie brown streamed by @mcondance

lookism.chatroom

ꕤ jonggun x cam!girl reader streamed by @vivinomi

dc.chatroom

ꕤ facetime phone s*x w/ jason todd streamed by @hearttjason

naruto.chatroom

ꕤ p*rn director madara x cam!girl black reader streamed by @nutheadgeenat

༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹ for any other fandoms, just ask!! ◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ

#freakyoncameracollab #jujutsu kaisen smut #attack on titan smut #one piece smut #jjba smut #naruto smut #genshin impact smut #anime smut #anime collab #toji fushiguro smut #gojo satoru smut #suguru geto smut #jjk smut #open collab #smut #x reader #reblogs

[snnrinc]

This altered my brain chemistry fr. Not the chat trolling them both like "look at these idiots banging hahaha! Haha... God I wish that was me 🥲"

And poor Nanami at the end, I can imagine him just slowly closing the door, ain't no way he's dealing with that, man doesn't get paid enough for life to throw such audacity at him 😭

WWW.PIXELATED.STARBOY. gojo satoru

SUMMARY: you wanted to surprise your roommate on his birthday but end up getting surprised yourself and find out he’s a popular camboy streamer.

CONTENT: f! reader, camboy!gojo, modern!au, overstim, cùnnilingùs, degradation, dumbification, praising, humor, switch gojo, puthy drunk gojo, edging, spanking, fìngerìng, crèampies, tummy bulge, he’s a brat, breath play, size kink, walked in on (pet names: angel, baby, pretty girl) wk: 5k

MOD: my entry for @fuwushiguro‘s cybersex collab !! lmaoo this was too funny to not write 🌚 enjoy the stream luvs x ;)

SONG INSPO.

“Huh? Why do you guys keep asking about my roommate,” Gojo furrows his eyebrows, before shaking his head with a faint giggle. He sat in his shared flat — spindling in his chair a bit that matched his icy blue set up, his cerulean eyes scanning through the tremendous amounts of love and awful thirsty comments he’d gotten. Gojo tilts his head with a sly shrug. “Nah, she’s not here. I think she went to go run some errands. Something like that,” and then he pauses, reading particular comments the many women asked and it made him laugh cheekily. “Yeah…. she’s pretty,” and then he pauses again — glancing down at the bright blue screen and his face burns up while his facial expressions cutely contorts. “Okay, now you guys are just saying some real horny shit. All I said was that she’s pretty!”

sukunascumrag: you were just getting off while thinking about her earlier—

dolly_lolly15: Lol no one cares twerk for us

tojisyummyexpiredpubes: Omg Gojo Y/N collab when??? You’d make bank

Gojo playfully rolls his eyes at the provocative lewd comments but couldn’t help but start to fantasize about you — the both of you were close friends, maybe there’d be some moments here and there but he didn’t really think of it much until now. And as he’s pondering deep in thought, blocking his chat and everything out— he doesn’t even realize that he’s stroking his already sensitive flaccid length.

“F-Fuck,” he sibilates, leaning back against his chair for his audience to get a view. Gojo‘s face was a deep flustered state once the image of you pops in his head, and a little whine slips out, wishing you were here — replacing his hand with maybe your hand… or your mouth. “Heh.. maybe you guys were right… Y/N‘s so…” and he pauses, letting off another shaky moan from his strokes before he freezes once he hears a familiar voice.

“Sorry I’m late, Satoru. Literally every store ran out of those little gummies you like and—” and you paused, taking the sight of Gojo in a slutty silk robe that complimented his bright eyes, hearing the occurring ding sound of the donations he got. You stood at the doorway, your mouth nearly agape slightly before you let off a conflicted giggle. “Were you just… I- you’re a camboy?” and then you furrow your eyebrows. “Is that….. my robe?”

Gojo blinks rapidly a few times before he covers himself — clearing his throat while looking up at you. “What- of course not, we just happen to own the same one!” and then his eyes briefly darts towards his viewers who are practically begging to see you as he mutters a quiet, “Guys not now!”

“Uh huh,” you nod suspiciously before strolling over towards him. Getting up directly behind Gojo, you lean forward while staring at the screen of the blue light that reflected against your face as you were almost in awe at how many people were watching your roommate’s stream. 12k? Beginning to think of the lewd things he probably did while you weren’t here started to make you feel hot a little. “Hi guys.” You smiled, slinging your arms over Gojo and your head‘s pressed against his while you skim through the comments.

sukunascumrag: I think I just came from hearing her voice

[MOD] getōsmonkeybusiness: ^ same

**yeagershairycoochie donated 153 hearts to the stream!**

definitelynottojifushiguro: How’d I even get here I was just looking up how to avoid paying child support wtf

Gojo looks up at you with widened eyes once you stare down at him sitting in his chair — and your eyes trail down his body. “So you’re really a camboy?” and your tone is genuinely curious, planting your hands onto the desk while staring at him, and oh Gojo‘s blushing so hard. He’s trying to play it off but he’s so embarrassed that you caught him. He was so distracted thinking about you that he totally forgot you were coming back.

“Yeah…” is all he says, and you catch him openly gawking at your body — you were dressed down minimally, but all you wore was a slight oversized uni hoodie with short jet black biker shorts underneath that practically looked like you wore nothing underneath. Gojo‘s blue eyes roamed everywhere, before he met yours again, speaking in a playfully nervous tone, “I- uh was gonna tell you! I just forgot we had plans for my birthday and uh.. I was having a subathon and—”

“Just say you wanna fuck me, Satoru.” You cut him off with a sweet giggle and he watches you plop down on his lap. Gojo‘s eyes immediately widens — feeling you straddle him, and he nearly lets off a grunt from feeling you shift a bit while feeling the little cameltoe between your legs graze against his excited hard cock that hid beneath his- well your robe.

Gojo stares at you with a timid dumbfounded look before he intakes a sharp breath, snaking his fingers near your waist. “I …wanna fuck you,” and you watch him stare at you with a glint of lust in his eyes, and let off a cute surprised gasp once you feel his slender fingers trail up your thigh and he gently pulls you into a deep and steamy kiss. He sort of expected you to pull away but you didn’t. Gojo grips onto your hips as you gently cup a hand near his right flustered cheek, feeling his tongue softly part between his pink lips and he lets off a little moan once he feel you deepen this kiss further — and he could taste the sweet saccharine filled lip gloss that coated your lips, it was sweet like enchanted honey.

After a while, the both of you pull back to recollect each others breaths — glistening faint trails of spit departing before Gojo suddenly lifts you up — placing you gently on the bed, frosty messy strands all in his face and there‘s such lust filled in his dilated pupils once he pulls you towards the edge of the bed. You sit up, watching him peel off your shorts with his teeth while staring forward at the chat — letting off a little teasing giggle. “You.. do know what you’re doing, right?”

“I know how to eat pussy!” Gojo retorts, and he his eyebrows contort as well — he genuinely sounded offended.

You stare up at him with a cheeky sly grin, unaware how much you were about to eat your own words from teasing him. Gojo makes sure his thousands of viewers can see his every move, sprawling your legs out a bit before he pulls you up just a bit before he makes one long stripe on the little pretty padded part your panties, intentionally staring up at you with low lidded eyes, and he could already taste how sweet and soaked you were.

“F-Fuck,” you sharply gasped — and you felt Gojo lean towards your thighs to coat the fat of your shaky legs with kisses and nip marks of his pearly whites but you yank his hair gently with a little moan leaving your mouth. “Don’t tease me, Satoru. Thought you were gonna eat m-me out.”

Gojo lets off a little giggle, starting to peel down your panties before he drags a pale thumb down your needy swollen cunt and stares up at you. “Heh. I‘m going to. Keep teasing me and I won‘t,” and your body shudders — feeling Gojo start to dig in, and you didn’t expect him to be sloppy because the first thing he does is gather a sheeny wad of spit — coating it on your pussy before starting to eat you out. One rough hand grips into your right thigh as you start to moan, already failing to keep your legs steady so he has to help pry them open with his face dug in between your legs. “Mmph— wanted to taste this sweet— pussy for s’long,” he‘d moan between each devouring suckle, and your chest starts to heave from his tongue that’s wandering all sorts of places of your cunt.

“Sat—oru,” you’d whimper, letting off a shaky breath from feeling his tongue slowly lick up and down between your puffy folds, making his tongue lay flat a bit so he can play with your clit more, until he starts to suck and suck as if he was some sort of ancient vampire— your pussy was appetizing to him, he couldn’t get enough. You wouldn’t be surprised if Gojo was already pussy drunk. “Oh my g—god your tongue,” you sobbed out, and it’s not long before your eyes reach towards the depths of your skull — combing your slender fingers through his white messy strands.

He’s so filthy, eating you out in such a salacious manner, one hand gripping onto your thigh as his head moved just a bit. Gojo‘s eating your pussy out like a starved man — you were feeding him so good, it’s safe to say he was addicted to your sweet cunt now.

You let off a trembling candied whine, gripping onto his hair as if it was velcro — your eyes darting towards the chat, the constant sounds of the donation notification continuously dinging, and you noticed since you showed up his viewer count doubled within minutes. The lights flashed within each of the messages flooding and you read some of them with dilated half-lidded eyes.

throatgoatbaby_17: why can’t i be y/n she’s so lucky :((((

definitelynottojifushiguro: Lol I can eat pussy better than that. Y/n hmu

itachiscumbucket: Bro was waitin his whole life to eat Y/N out-

“S’good,” Gojo moans, lolling out his tongue just a bit — and his frosty lashes were nearly closed, and he was definitely drunk between your folds. Your mouth opens up just a tad bit once you feel him easily insert a finger inside and you’re rested back against the fluffy cushioned box spring. He‘s real slow and gentle — completely opposite of his tongue before he slides another digit inside and you’re producing the most sweetened melodic moans imaginable, you were like this now from his fingers, you could only think of what his cock would feel like. Just imagining it was enough to make your mouth salivate and water. “Mh—fuck,” he‘d mumble — and his two fingers slowly piston in and out, pushing you closer and closer near the edge, the sounds of your sloppy wet cunt squelching from the immense stimulations ring in his red tipped ears before he looks up at you with a sly grin, a little giggle leaving his throat. “Don’t be shy, pull on my hair a little angel.”

You hated how smug he was — even being propped between yours legs, so kinky. But you tug on his hair, grabbing a fistful of his white silky locks. Gojo lets off a giggle before a little slutty moan came directly afterward. But that‘s when you let off a loud shrilling whimper — feeling Gojo‘s slightly frigid tongue slurps your cunt clean but you also felt his two slender fingers curl in a lewd way, shimmying its way upwards until it tapped against your g-spot. “S—Satoruuu, right there please please… gonna cum— f-fuckkk..”

Gojo looks up at you with a cheeky grin — your slick well running down his chin before a little pout tweaks on his pink lips. “Cum…? Aw, but I‘m not done eating! Can’t you be a good girl and wait a little lo—”

“F-Fuck you Satoru please I can’t,” you merely sobbed, eyes rolling back from his tongue. The pool of heat that resided in your tummy continued to make an appearance and your ears started to ring. “Let me cum p—please,” and you feel him laugh against your clit — his tongue slowly dragging up and down, left and right while occasionally nibbling against your little throbbing nub as well as making plenty of love towards your clitoral hood with his mouth.

“Heh, go ahead.. I guess,” and his tone‘s still playful — finding it cute how you could barely hold onto his hair for leverage, hearing your little sweet breaths quicken and the back of your head plops against the bed, you let out the most sweetened orgasm. It sounds like a harmony, a lewd harmony at that, but it gets Gojo so hard knowing he made you sound like that. All from his tongue. “Mph—good girl.” he says between slurps and suckles, cleaning you real good with his tongue, making sure to not miss a single taste.

Once he breaks away from your mouth, Gojo pulls you in for a warm chaste kiss — and he moans in your mouth while you can immediately taste yourself on his tongue. You taste sweet, and he gets on top of you, one hand gently caressing the middle part of your throat before breaking away once he lies you back, panting a bit with a flustered face.

Gojo opens his— your robe, and he’s ripped, completely lanky and chiseled, and your eyes immediately went towards his hard cock that presented itself to you and his audience on his cam show as well. Gojo‘s dick was pink and pretty, adequately well trimmed, a little droplets of excited pre-cum leaking from the sides and he had a little curve, and he had extreme girth. It was safe to say Gojo was big. “Ooh. Like what you see?” He giggled cheekily once he caught you staring, and he gave himself a few pumps — you rolled your eyes, turning away and he hums before crawling closer towards you. “Mmm. Be a good girl and spread your pretty legs, angel.”

You do, sprawled on the bed a bit while Gojo holds his length with one hand — another laid flat on your tummy, and he lets off a soft moan as he swiped the tip of his swollen eagerly pink tip against your folds, and he felt you already pulsating and throbbing. “S-Satoru,” you whined, feeling the arch in your back starting to commence. “Don‘t tease me.”

“Okay fineeee,” he playfully pouts — darting towards his screen, and he smiles, taking a few seconds to read off a list of top donators, thanking them for their tips and contributions before he turns to you, and he lets off a little shaky breath. “S’just— your pussy’s so pretty.” And then he starts to sink in and oh the way your jaw slowly starts to drop, that feeds his ego so good as he’s watching your little cunt try to take him fully — and he’s so big, stretching your pussy out like an elastic band.

“F-Fuckkk,” you quietly sibilated, nearly choking on your words as his girth introduced itself to your clit. Gojo‘s hand still laid on your tummy, and he trails it low to where the bulge started to form with a little smug grin — a thumb gently grazing against your sopping cunt. “S’big.. ‘toru you’re not gonna f—fit.”

Gojo tilts his head — white strands of hair nearly in his face and occluding his vision before he hums. “Awww, baby don‘t say that. I’ll make it fit just for you, don‘t worry!” and you glance up at him with dilated pupils, little hearts starting to form in them while you watch Gojo teasingly lift up your right leg and leans in close to you. “Didn’t know my roommate had s-such a tight cute pussy,” he huffs out — and he kisses your ankle before sinking in further and further until he’s at the hilt. “Ah, shit…. you feel so warm inside Y/N,” and you shudder once he gives you one thrusts that makes you let off a cute whimper — watching your entire body jolt from the impact. “H-happy birthday to me. This is the best present ever,” and he’s starting to roll his hips against you, a grip on your hip before nearly gnawing on his lip with a flustered face. “My roommie’s pussy— s’good.”

You let off a quavery honeyed whine as he’s buried deep inside you now — pulling on your hips and his face is burning up, a faint splash of red embedded on his cheeks as he can’t keep his eyes off you. Gojo‘s chat was going completely ballistic, the majority of his demographic of mostly women flooding the comments with the most filthiest things imaginable. Some were so incredibly jealous of you — their favorite pretty camboy‘s fucking you and not them, and for some reason it brings a little smile to your face.

“O—oh my goddd… ‘toru,” you gasped and you felt like you were gonna break, snap, and tear all at once. He was so ridiculously big — the hefty base of his cock repeatedly slapped against you, scratching such a good itch in your brain you almost lose your train of thought for a second. If you knew your stupid hot roommate could make you feel this good, you’d let him fuck you a long time ago. “Keep— fucking me like this and I’m gonna c-cum too quick.”

“Hmm. Then I’ll have to slow down, huh?” He teases, leaning up close to you with a smug grin, bringing a little peck on your chin. And you’re babbling — ferociously shaking your head and Gojo wriggles his eyebrows playfully. “No—? But you’re gonna cum too fast,” and he teasingly pouts, balls deep and his thrusts makes you nearly choke on nothing — feeling him hum softly, bright cerulean eyes studying your cute twitchy expressions. “Awww, I made it fit for you so you’re just gonna have to,” and he pauses to let off a shaky moan, one hand holding onto your thigh. “—be a pretty girl and wait just a little. Can you do that for me?”

You give Gojo a cute glare before letting out another sweet whine and he smiles, shifting his eyes towards the chat — tilting his head again with a few beads of sweat staring to race down his eyebrow. “Hmmmm, help me out guys. Should I let Y/N cum early?”

[MOD] getōsmonkeybuisness: you’re so gonna get banned again satoru

dolly_lolly: ya

touyadisintegrateddick275: yes :)

erenshotstepmom: Yes

definitelynottojifushiguro: No.

Gojo rolls his eyes playfully at the thousands of viewers commenting, a majority of ‘yes’ while he’s still stuffed deep inside of you — fucking you insanely stupid before a teasing pout curls on his pink lips. “Pft. You guys are no fun,” and he fixated his focus back towards you with a sly smile. “Squeezing down on me s-s’much angel,” he pants, his hips mercilessly pivoting against your slick heat in an almost circular rotation. Gojo stares down at you — thin frosty eyebrows kneading together. “Go ahead. Cum all on me, pretty girl.”

Your entire body spasms as your head goes back just a bit — a wave of shock and goosebumps rippling out of you, and you came hard to where the noises you made are so high and stupid along with a quiet sudden ring filling your ears. “F-Fuck.” you sobbed, one of your legs wrapping around Gojo’s waist. He keeps his eyes on you once he slows down just a bit, leaning in to sneak a soft steamy kiss near your mouth. You still moaned, kissing back before sitting up and lightly shoving him back against the fat cushioned pillows.

“Hm…?” Gojo stares at you, an eyebrow slightly furrowed and he looks so smug, the pretty pink tip of his cock swollen and throbbing just a bit, veins showing an appearance near it while you made your way towards him — still shaking from your last orgasm. “Ooh. You gonna ride me? Think you can handle that?”

“Shut up,” you retorted, and he laughs while he lets you align yourself on his cock again. You just wanted to wipe that little condescending smirk on his face. Gojo leans back — some white strands of messy hair making its way to cover his brows. He lets out a little low grunt, feeling you plop down on his shaft, chiseled chest heaving just a bit and he still had your robe on. After this, Gojo would probably keep it, maybe hang it up on his side of the room. “S—Shit, stretching me s’much, ‘toru.”

“Gooood,” he sings, and he watches you start to rollick your hips against him, and it feels so good because your cunt‘s still sensitive but you just can’t stop bouncing on Gojo. He’s trying to keep up a tough facade but in reality he was about to cum his brains out — and every so often the tips of his ears get hot and a little flush of red prints on his face. “F-Fuckkk, you really know how to move your hips, pretty girl. Clamping on me so good—shit.”

You felt your face get hot from his words, and Gojo‘s starting to lose composure a little from the way your cunt‘s sloppily thrashing back against him. You‘re having a chase with your own erratic breathing and the crown head of his cock‘s reaching way deep past your g-spot and even your a-spot as well, sending your entire lower half into mere convulsions that you start to whine while one hand plants on his warm pale chest.

“You‘re.. gonna make me cum,” he gasps quickly, blue eyes nearly rolling back once you feel Gojo shortly afterward put a hand to grip onto your hip only to smack your ass. “Oh my g—godddd, you fucking whore. Riding me so good that I‘m g-gonna—” and he pauses to let off a long strained moan while he’s laid back, your pussy‘s making him so drunk and under the influence from the grip it has against him. Gojo then looks at you with a flustered face, eyes half lidded. “Y/N… you’re gonna make me cum in your,” and he lets off another breathy moan. “tight—pussy, fuck…”

“Cum inside me then,” you whined with a little pout squeezing on your spit-glossed lips. Gojo stares at you dumbfounded as if his eyes said ‘really?’ and you eagerly nodded — wanting more than anything to be filled, just envisioning your camboy roommates cum filling you to the brim nearly has you salivating again just from the raunchy carnal thought. “C‘mon, Satoru. Cum in me so I can s-show your viewers how good you stuffed me full, ‘toru.”

Gojo lets off a little whine before giving your ass a spank. “You’re… so filthy Y/N— thinking with your pussy instead of your brain, dumb girl. But.. but fine,” he groans, clinging onto your hips before he‘s about to spill a thick load inside. Gojo‘s moans are so slutty, and you whine yourself while occasionally glancing at the chat and see how they’re praising you and trolling Gojo, saying how they can‘t tell the difference of who‘s the girl, since his moans are so bratty and melodically high. “Take it then— f-fuck.”

The soft cushioned bed‘s making a mere mixtape of its own from the constant creaking, and Gojo moans — shoving you into his chest before he’s cumming, shooting ropes and ropes of his velvety cum inside of you, going into a complete frenzy. His hips shutter just a bit once he lies flat back against the pillow — a hand nearly covering his eyes as you sit on his lap, staring down at the mess he made inside you. You then crawled towards his cam set up, the chat being bombarded with messages and donations and you let off a soft whine, scanning some of the comments — Gojo in the background of the screen through your peripherals as if he was about to pass out. He was dramatic, still moaning with his face all red.

yeagershairycoochie: Y/n can u ride me like that pls-

c0wg1rlhater15: guys i think she broke gojo with her pussy

** karmasuxx and 1859 new viewers joined and subscribed to GOJODADDYXX’s stream! come say hi! **

nanamisfatballsack: Aww look at Satoru, he’s so cute :P

You then let off a gasp, feeling Gojo snatch you by your waist as you were reading the comments and you giggled, feeling him press a hand onto your hip. “I- I thought you were done, Satoru.”

“Of course I‘m not done!” He furrows his eyebrows, and he gently shoved you face down on the bed. You stared at his bright screen reflecting on your face with a smile — seeing Gojo‘s physique behind you, still with the bedazzled robe on before you feel him rub a thumb down your clit that was oozing with his cum and you let off a tiny frail whine, leaning down on your arms. “Could never be done with this pretty pussy,” and he‘s pouting a bit, before you feel him start to align himself again, inserting his fat dick inside you again and you let off a little moan, staring right at the dozens of comments that rolled through. “Fuck, still s-sensitive but can‘t help it,” he hissed with a little whimper, preparing to fuck you doggy, and Gojo starts to hit your sweet spots at a relentless pace with his hips.

“S—Satoru, fuckkk,” you‘d whine, and it was as if his stamina was completely replenished out of nowhere. Gojo leaned up close to you, bringing a hand to gently wrap around your neck like a necklace, caressing your passageway of your throat with his thumb and the noises you made were so lewd, eyes rolling and crossing because of the rough hits he made against your ass with his hips. Within a few moments, your tongue started to nearly loll out — and his tip is just profusely pounding in your cunt, clamping and squeezing down with your gummy needy walls. “Fuck.. me harder S-Satoru… right there please.”

Gojo grunts, bringing a spank to your ass and you giggle a little before moaning again. “F-Fine, but shut up and take it then,” he pants — and your face is practically being shoved into his computer screen — the bright flashing lights of his screen colliding with your vision, tip of your chin smashing against the keyboard and spewing out all sorts of keys and letters and nonsense. And now the chat‘s trolling you. Gojo‘s nostrils flare up a bit— his hips stuttering once again and you can barely keep up with the pace as your mouth opens up just a little, letting off the most long drawn out moan of his name. “Mhm,” he‘d faintly whine before you feel him pick your head up from behind — leaning in close so the both of you were shown on the screen, head‘s touching each other. “Look how dumb my roomie looks, guys,” and he giggles — holding your head towards the screen and your eyes nearly roll back. “You‘re such a nasty girl. Drooling all on my fucking keyboard.”

You whine from how good he‘s hitting you from behind — stirring up your insides with the ridges of his dick, and it‘s got you pulsating repeatedly from between your legs. The sticky mess that‘s running down your thighs is utterly sloppy and it only makes you throb and throb more. “S-Satoru,” you’d gasp cutely, reaching down to feel yourself. Your noises were so shaky because of hips pounding into you mercilessly— making your mind completely blank and go so stupid. “M’gonna cum again— gonna c-cum… Satoru.”

“Again—?” He purrs, and his voice is smooth a silly, a hint of smug against it once he’s near your face — letting off slutty moans against your ear, and the head of his dick continues to smack and thwack against your g-spot, sending your entire body into a frenzy. Gojo brings a hand up to your mouth, smearing the drool near your mouth and covers your mouth while staring at his screen, muffling your incoherent babbles. “Heh. Ladies, be nice! She‘s still my roommate, bet you guys wish you were Y/N huh?” and he pauses for a bit, bringing a small peck to your cheek while he’s still snapping his hips against you — watching your eyes repeatedly roll with your shaky arms propped up against his desk. “Wish this was you being pounded on my desk, hm? Y/N’s such a lucky girl. Think she might be my biggest fan after all.”

“S—Satoruuuu, please—” you‘d whine once he slips his hand from covering your mouth. He hums against your ear, and your voice is all pathetic and shaky. He‘s shoved and buried deep past your folds, it’s got you so feral and hungry for more as your right leg starts to bounce.

“Oh right,” he mumbles, sneaking a few kisses near your neck, and he‘s grinding his hips against you — and Gojo can‘t help but smack your ass a few times to hear you hit those high notes for him. He loves the recoil of it, it gets him harder and harder each sloppy moment and second that he‘s buried deep inside your cunt to the hilt. “But I dunno,” and he holds your head up again, giving his bright screen a little pout — eyes scampering down at the loads of thirst comments being presented to him along with the loud shrilling ding ding noise he kept getting, and he reaches for his mouse while still fucking you. His snowy colored eyebrows furrow once his stream starts to buffer. “Wha- Hold on, angel hehe. I‘m fucking lagging?! Damn I hate this wifi.”

Your eyes widened, nearly about to orgasm and here Gojo was worrying about his shitty internet connection. “S—Satoru,” you‘d sobbed, and he‘s shoving you against the desk, multi tasking at that as he’s got a hand grazed on your hips while another clung on his mouse. You smell his rich scent of cologne smash against your face, and it made you dizzy within each hit he made towards you that all the words you kept mumbling was his name — barely able to keep yourself up on the desk. “Satoruuuu— Satoru— gonna cum..”

“Wait wait,” he coos to your ear, and it‘s playful and low, making you cunt twitch before moments later his stream‘s back on and he lets off a little sigh of relief. “Finally! Hey guys, sorry about that,” and you‘re already cumming hard on Gojo‘s cock before you realize it — a spring of coil continuing to trough and snap, a shattering feeling that makes you nearly weak in the knees. Gojo stares at you and lets out a cheerful laugh. “Good girl,” and then he turns towards his screen, making you nod your head. “So good for Satoru.”

And then that‘s when the door opens out of nowhere.

“Gojo. I don‘t get why you wanted those unhealthy sugar coated things when Y/N‘s—”

You and Gojo both stare at Nanami and the room‘s all silent — well, not really since Gojo‘s still fucking you deep. Nanami stares at the door with his eyes squinting as if he’s questioning what he‘s seeing.

“Nanami!” Gojo grins cheekily, making you turn your head towards the screen — seeing the chat comments fill up with question marks, thirsting over Nanami now. “Hey man! Wanna join? My dick‘s getting pretty sleepy, heh.”

“………………..……………”

END OF GOJODADDYXX’s STREAM! CYBER M.LIST?

#reblogs #gojo satoru smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #no but for real this was just the perfect balance of hot and funny #especially with the chat replies lmao

[snnrinc]

God, I'm speechless and screaming internally!! This is so beautifully written, true poetic filth and I adore all the descriptions used! I wish I had the proper words to describe how much I love your writing style, but any compliment pales in comparison to what you wrote.

tw: pussy eating, female reader, pussy drunk antics, light manhandling

“Let me eat you?”

Despite the words, it was more demand than a question. The chill of the marble countertop bit against your bare rump. Holding yourself up on your elbows as gleaming eyes shone, glossy and transfixed by the sight spread before him, whimpering at that first long lick. How desired you felt, how wanted and special that you could turn him this needy without even trying.

A broad palm spread across the small of your back, fitting perfectly from where your spine arched upwards. Fingers kneaded into you as his other hand easily pinned your thigh to the counter.

There was no escape, no hope for mercy and he groaned deep in his throat. The reverberation ripped through your tender folds like lightning bolts dancing on a golden shore.

You were the most exquisite taste, spiralling on his tongue and slick flowing down his throat as you came undone far quicker than he expected. How could you not? He was a master at work, a savant who knew you better than you know yourself.

One orgasm wouldn’t be enough - oh no - he couldn’t stop here. He wasn’t nearly satisfied.

His tongue carved through your tender flesh, lapping with firm motions over your clit until your hips were gyrating against his face. The feel of your plushness around his head was a blessing he’d never forget to send his thanks for, the muffled sounds as your thighs pressed against his ears better than he could ever wish for.

He loved you like this, unrestrained and unashamed to chase that hit of dopamine. He was rough, nothing you couldn't handle but his teeth pulled on your folds, his lips suckled your aching little pearl and his tongue drove deep into your pussy. His mission was clear, to slurp down your nectar like a man who could not quench his thirst in any other way.

“Fuck, I’ll never get enough of your taste.”

His hair was dampened with sweat, strands stuck to his forehead, and his brow pinched in concentration as he wrung you out like a wet rag until you were boneless and pliant.

A pretty doll to be used for his pleasure and you'd welcome it, scream it. Beg for more - more of him and his wicked tongue. Plead for him to fuck you until your brain was even fuzzier and the only word you could think to say was his name — chanted like a prayer.

You wondered absently when he had scooped you up and into his arms. When had he started the relentless drive towards your bedroom and why?

His handsome face was shiny in your arousal, cheeks red and lips swollen when he noticed your concern. A droplet of slick dripped from his chin to hit his bare chest and you moaned at the sight. An unashamedly slutty moan that forced him to stop in his tracks, those carnal eyes still hungry as they burrowed into you.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ve not finished with you yet. It’s time to devour you… properly.”

-------------------------------------------------

Kakashi, Obito, Naruto, Kiba, Bakugou, Izuku, Aizawa, Hawks, Nanami, Sukuna, Gojo, Yuuji, Daichi, Kuroo, Bokuto, Atsumu, Diluc, Zhongli, Kaeya & your favourite!

#reblogs #x reader #bnha smut #jjk smut #genshin smut

[snnrinc]

Zburătorul: The One Who Flies

Zburătorul (zboo-ruh-toh-rule; directly translated as The Flyer or The One Who Flies) is a supernatural being in Romanian folklore, the embodiment of erotic desire and the epitome of temptation. Beware of falling victim to his loving embrace, his lustful gaze and his charming words. Having a taste of him will leave you longing for more, and soon, more will not be enough and you will be driven to insanity. But, if he steps into your room...

... then it’s already too late.

— PAIRING : Hawks/Keigo Takami x F!Reader [AO3 Portal]

— WARNINGS : NSFW, smut, fantasy AU, afab!reader, use of she/her pronouns, PIV, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, feather play, outdoor sex, creampie, overstimulation, porn with plot, bad poetry

— WORD COUNT : 14.3k

— AUTHOR'S NOTE : Inspired by the myth of the Flyer (pretty obviously). This AU takes place sometime in the 1800s. You can think of the Commission/Hero society as some sort of Olympus in this AU. Thanks for taking the time to read!

It was a day like any other, your sleeves raised up as much as you could to allow the breeze to cool you down, your headscarf protecting your head from the scorching sun but doing nothing to help with the sweat running down your body. You tried to move fast — the faster you work, the quicker you can finally take some rest — but you knew you’d be stuck between the vines, picking grapes until sundown. It was today that you were on duty, after all, other members from your family and neighbouring ones working the same as you in other rows from the vineyard.

You took a moment to wipe your hands on your apron before raising the fabric up to wipe your forehead. To say you were tired would be an understatement, but it was certainly better to be here, harvesting grapes, than the alternative of tilling the fields. Your hands were already calloused from last week when you had to work. Then again, with the amount of field work you were doing, the normal state of your hands seemed to be bruised and rough, so you were not surprised.

Your village was thriving on farming and especially on the large vineyards stretching across acres of land, feeding the prosperous wine industry of the town not too far from where you lived. Naturally, the large majority of people in the area made a living between rows of vines, yourself included.

Following the taste of fine wine and many business opportunities, people from across the country passed through the town next to your village, some settling down and creating a hub of what some villagers would call modern civilization. But out of all the shops opening their doors warmly to sell the most delicious food, most precious jewellery, most beautiful clothes, and of course, most flavourful wine, nothing quite caught your eye like the new library that opened just shy of the town centre.

You covered your forehead with your hand, shadowing your vision as you looked up at the sky. The sun was right above you, blazing down on you relentlessly. It was barely noon and you were not yet done, surely the library would close by the time you reach the town, but you were hoping today was another day when the head librarian would stay behind. You sighed as you grabbed a small piece of rope and tied the now empty vine to the metal wires running through the row, preventing the vine from falling to the ground from its own weight.

You continued working for a few hours, time melting under the heat of the sun, until soon dusk began approaching and the people working alongside you started vacating the vineyard. You quickly left your place and began running through the rows of grapevines, hoping that if you were quick enough you’d reach the carriage of people heading towards the town to spend a few hours reading before heading home. As you made your way closer to the street, you shouted once and the coachman turned towards you before beaming once he recognised you.

“Ah, there you are! Come aboard!” Mirio gestured lively for you to join the other workers in the carriage once you reached him. “Going home?”

“No, town centre.”

Mirio’s smile faltered, making way for a concerned expression to slip through his bright one. “Again? At this time? It’s getting dark.”

“Aren’t you the sweetest for being worried about your friend?” You smiled. “I promise I’ll be home before long.”

Mirio sighed, but didn’t stop you as you climbed inside the carriage, squeezing next to the other workers. “You always say this. I’m not passing through the village until tomorrow afternoon, I won’t be able to take you home.”

When he didn’t hear you respond, he sighed and resigned to flicking the reins of the horse in front of him, starting towards the town centre. Along the way, people kept getting off at different points, in front of their houses, at crossroads, near taverns, until you were the only one left inside the carriage. Mirio was quiet, but he knew where you wanted to get off, so he didn’t stop until he reached the library. After all, this was not the first time you’d decided to come all the way here to read, borrow books or bring them back to search for others. He’d usually pass back on his way to his home in the village, so he’d collect you from near the library to take you home safely at the end of the day, but duty called for a detour tonight. The pang of guilt and worry that you’d be alone in the dead of night, far from home, could not be soothed by the roll of your eyes and your reassurance that you were a grown adult capable of making decisions for yourself. Nonetheless, you appreciated your friend’s worry, making it known as you bid him farewell and headed towards the dark oak doors of the library.

With a soft breath, you pulled the heavy door open, pleasantly surprised that it was not locked even as the sun began drifting towards the horizon, touching it and bathing the skies in oceans of red, purple and navy hues. You closed the door behind you, wincing at the way the old metal hinges creaked loudly in the silence of the library. You looked around and, once you noticed there was no one around, silently stepped further in, gliding through isles of bookshelves like a ghost, trying to keep your presence as hidden as possible. You couldn’t allow the librarian to see you after a day of work, covered in dirt and grime, again. Apologising too many times for the same issue like looking disheveled was tiring, even if he had told you it was not a problem.

With swift steps, you made your way through the library, grabbing books here and there, before settling at an empty table and opening one you had been reading in the past few days.

“Of Myths, Love and Desire,” the title read, golden on a cobalt blue cover. You gently brushed your fingers over the writing, feeling the protruding letters for what seemed like the hundredth time since you first laid your hand on the book. Next to it on the table, there were various books authored by different poets, all having one thing in common.

The creature that captured your attention.

When you first started reading poems a few months ago, after you had finished several fantasy books and were looking for something new to get lost into, they were describing the stone-heavy weight of heartbreak, the cold touch of sadness, the solitude that comes with reaching heights of knowledge that the average person couldn’t comprehend and the serenity of simply basking in the magic of nature. Steadily, the poems started to weave verses about love, about its purity and the vice-like grip it can have on a human’s heart. But then, something else bled through declarations of love and everlasting loyalty, slipping through the cracks of descriptions of sweet kisses and bashful hugs.

Desire.

And with it came him.

It started with a poem about a creature, a man, a star gliding down from the skies, visiting an innocent woman at night, slipping through the window of her chambers. Lovers, you found out, from the verse in which she latched onto his neck as he stole a kiss from her, happily inviting him into her bed.

Then another, this time from the woman’s perspective, about how her dreams were tormented by the handsome man, her body aching for his touch, unable to reach that sweet release without his help. She was begging the heavens for pity through heavy breaths, but received none.

And yet another, deemed a masterpiece by critics, as you’d read in the preface. A story following the journey of an evening star visiting the object of his affection at night after receiving her call. But this time, he was not there just for his own pleasure, or to drive her mad with lust. This time, he sought love, taking on various forms, divine and devilish alike, to please his lover, willing to give up on everything he was to be together with his love, but ultimately being rejected by reason that he belonged to a different world, the woman then seeking love in the arms of a mortal. You scoffed at that — how ridiculous to say no to such an opportunity — but you still checked the preface again to see just why these critics liked the poem so much, and you’d read about the myth there. About who they called “The One Who Flies”. You didn’t know what took over you when you scoured the bookshelves for more information about him, but that was when you found the book you now had open in front of you.

Soon enough, you hung onto every word. There were parts describing him as handsome and alluring, an otherworldly being fallen onto Earth to plant the seed of lust into humans. He’d visit them in their dreams and have them experience a pleasure so intense they would be driven to insanity, addicted to him to the point that only witches could ever save them from desire through spells and potions. Some sources described him as an incubus, some as a star or a personification of evil. You soon delved into the myth of Eros and Psyche, entranced by how love could ever be combined with something such as lust that you had been conditioned to find repulsive.

You thought back to a conversation you overheard between the men in the fields while working. The way they were describing the acts they wanted to perform on their partners had you scrunch up your nose in disgust at the vulgarity of their words. Who would’ve thought you’d find yourself in a library chair, clenching your thighs at the thought of having this mysterious creature perform the same acts on you? But in your fantasy, his smile wasn’t sleazy and condescending, it was warm and inviting. His touch wasn’t revolting or careless, it was calculated and scorching. His words weren’t distasteful, they were hypnotising as he’d whisper just how beautiful you look unravelling yourself to him, free for him to take you.

“You okay?”

You jumped in your seat, slamming the book shut and almost dropping it before you swallowed the dryness in your throat, painfully aware of how your core was pulsing in time with your heartbeat. You turned towards the voice and noticed the librarian staring at you, an eyebrow raised to emphasise his question.

“Aizawa,” you mindlessly said. “Y-yeah, I’m fine. I was just, uh, reading quickly before heading home.”

“You seemed pretty engrossed in what you’re reading.” He checked his pocket watch. “It’s almost half past midnight.”

You’d been daydreaming for that long?

Aizawa’s eyes shifted from you to the books on the table. He leaned in a bit to see the titles better and you instinctively covered the book you were just reading, afraid he’d somehow figure out what you were thinking. He leaned back into his position and sighed, but didn’t comment any further before he turned around and started walking towards the front desk.

“Come. I’ll add those books to your ‘borrowed’ list then take you home. It’s very late and we have to close the library.”

You hastily stood up and started gathering the books from the table. “Ah, I’m so sorry! I completely forgot to check the time and I saw nobody was here so…” you trailed off, feeling guilty as you followed Aizawa through the bookshelves.

He spared you a glance before speaking again, “No need to apologise, I was here until late, too.”

You were both silent for a while as you reached the desk and he pulled out a thick notebook from one of the drawers. Your name had its own few pages with the amount of books you had been borrowing for so long, so he easily found it and looked up at you, waiting for you to tell him the titles you’d be taking home this time. You looked at all the books and their titles, reading them out loud. “Anthology of Love Poems”, “Myths And Muses” and lastly, “Of Myths, Love and Desire”. You hugged the books close to your chest, looking away bashfully as Aizawa scribbled the titles and his signature on the paper. He quickly glanced at you from underneath his lashes, still hunched over the desk and writing, before he looked back at the notebook and spoke:

“You seem to be very interested in romance lately,” he noted, but it almost sounded like a question to you.

“Not really.” You shifted your weight from one leg to the other, ashamed that it may be obvious what you were thinking, but even though Aizawa seemed unconvinced, he didn’t push the matter further. You were thankful, of course, that you didn’t have to awkwardly find an explanation other than ‘I’ve been fantasising about a mythological creature for the past few months’, which you reckoned would make you sound insane. Not only that, but you were aware how having any sort of lewd thoughts was viewed by society and you didn’t want to ruin the relationship you had built with Aizawa over the months.

Before making your way outside of the old building, you watched Aizawa close the notebook and safely put it back in its place before walking around the library to extinguish the oil lamps that were still dimly illuminating the place. Once he was done and joined your side again, he held the door open for you and you thanked him gently as you walked outside, the old door creaking the same as before when Aizawa closed it, locking it with a padlock and shoving the key in the pocket of his coat. He offered to hold your books for you and you refused with a smile, telling him he doesn’t even need to walk you all the way home.

“Nonsense,” he dismissed. “I can’t have you walk alone at night. Especially since I’m going that way, too.”

You said nothing in return, since insisting wouldn’t do much to convince Aizawa anyway. For the rest of your walk the silence between you was filled by the sound of crickets and grasshoppers, a symphony accompanied by the soft rustling of the leaves in the night breeze. The crisp air was a welcome change from the blazing heat you had to endure all day, and you felt yourself relax, tiredness finally catching up with you. With how distracted and increasingly more exhausted you were, you almost forgot to stop walking once you reached the gate of your yard. You politely thanked Aizawa once again for walking you home and wished him a safe journey to his own house before turning around, starting towards the gate.

“You know,” you heard his voice call out from behind you and you turned to look at him. He paused for a second, as if carefully choosing his next words. “You’re one of the library’s regular visitors and I’m glad you’re so interested in learning. But just don’t let it stop you from taking care of yourself.”

You blinked and wondered if the exhaustion showed on your face that obviously. It was clear you had gone to the library right after working for almost a full day in the vineyard, but in your defense you weren’t really planning on bumping into Aizawa.

You smiled softly. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” And with a wave, you disappeared beyond the gate, reaching your front door and opening it softly to not wake up your family.

Quickly but quietly, you made your way through the house, finally completing your daily routine. After you left your books safely in your room on your desk, you grabbed your nightgown and bathed yourself at last, albeit with cold water since you didn’t have the time or patience to light a fire to warm it up. Thankfully, the midsummer air was warm enough to not have you shivering as you enjoyed the fragrance of the handmade soap you had bought from a new shop in the town centre. Even so, the cool water was not enough to distract you from the undercurrent of lust still buzzing under your skin.

Not wasting any time, you quickly dried yourself and put on your nightgown so you wouldn’t catch a cold. You threw out the water you used and soon found yourself at the window of your room, opening it to let in the fresh night air and the calming sounds of the night critters and rustling of leaves. You looked down and noticed the tulips in your garden were closed up, deep in slumber as you should’ve been. But instead, your gaze drifted higher, along the bark of a tree and up its branches, until it landed on the clear sky. And just like all your recent nights — if recent is what you can call a few months of longing — you stared at the stars for the thousandth time, memorising the constellations and wondering which one would be him.

It was ridiculous. You knew it. But looking around, the world you lived in just could not compare to the worlds painted by all the books you had read. The people, their ambitions, morals and motivations, would never instil that level of wonder and awe in you because all that you could see in real people were mere fragments and never the full picture.

And men would never know how to seduce you, nothing ever worked quite like the written word. Perhaps you were destined to die alone, a disappointing outcome for your family that had been attempting to convince you to find someone to marry for a few years.

Your feet carried you towards your bed, the wooden floorboards from under your window creaking from your movements. You let yourself fall unceremoniously on the bed, but instead of wallowing in self pity, your body had other needs that you had to take care of first, judging by the insistent pulse between your legs, only growing stronger the more you tried to wait it out. You groaned in frustration and let your hand glide over your chest, across your abdomen, caressing your thighs and eventually diving between them, finally soothing the ache you’d been feeling for hours. You wondered how this mythological man’s hands would feel on your skin. They said that the pleasure he’d induce would be so intense it would make you lose your mind, but maybe that was what you wanted, to finally lose it with no remorse.

Your fingers rubbed your clit faster before dipping inside your entrance, impatiently chasing your release. You wondered how his would feel like, how good they’d fill you up, how he’d reach all the right spots within you as his lips kissed you passionately, whispering poetic filth into your ear. Your pace got faster, a hand groping at your chest and shallow breaths leaving your lips as you tried to keep quiet, ashamed of how you spent your nights recently, overcome by desire and lost in your lewd thoughts.

Eventually, your back arched, the coil in your stomach releasing through pulses of pleasure as you retreated your hand and stared at the stars. In your state of temporary euphoria, you could’ve sworn they seemed to shine just a little bit brighter. You turned on your side, only one thought on your mind as your body melted into the bed and your eyelids grew heavier under the weight of exhaustion, a thought you absentmindedly voiced towards the sky as you drifted off to sleep.

“I wish you’d come to me…”

❈

Your sleep was peaceful, soft breaths accompanying the gentle breeze flowing through your open window, caressing your body and soothing your tired muscles. The stars shone brightly in the night sky, moonlight descending into your bedchamber and for a second, from the depth of your slumber, through your eyelids, you could see a ray of light shining brighter for just a moment, causing you to stir in your sleep. And soon, once the light died down, the floor beneath your window creaked.

At the sound, you cracked your eye open just a tiny bit, your vision blurry from you coming down from dreamland, but once you saw the figure of a man standing by your window, your body shot up, arms straightening and pushing you into a sitting position. You would’ve reached for something to use as a weapon, but realisation dawned on your face once you saw a pair of wings attached to his back. Whoever you were looking at was not human, and yet you somehow knew what he was, in the same way the absurdity of dreams seemed natural while lost in sleep. Perhaps that was what he was in that moment, a mirage your drowsy imagination crafted after months of yearning.

You stared at the man, dumbstruck, unable to comprehend how his presence was even possible. His blood red wings were neatly tucked behind him, his loose satin shirt showing off a part of his chest before the material disappeared into his dark trousers. He had a regal appearance, but upon examining his face, you noticed something less refined and more... animalistic. Far from the princely visage described in countless poems and myths. His golden eyes looked sharp, observant and almost glowing, his hair was blown back and messy, and his face was not clean shaven, evident stubble adorning his chin right under an easy-going smile.

However, if there was one accurate descriptor from all the books you’d read, it was that he was insanely handsome. But other than that, he didn’t look like a fallen angel nor like a lustful demon. Rather, his wings, the way his brows furrowed and the dark markings around his eyes reminded you of...

“... Hawks.”

You saw his smile falter for a second, his brows turning up in confusion. You quickly realised you were thinking out loud and cleared your throat, attempting to ease the awkwardness you created and to calm the restless beating of your heart. When did it even start beating faster?

“Sorry, it’s just... Your wings and eyes… They remind me of the hawks I see on the fields sometimes.”

You heard him chuckle and felt a wave of heat suddenly coursing through your veins at the sound.

“No need for an apology. I’d say that’s very creative. Humans usually tend to compare me to other types of creatures, but I quite like the sound of it. In fact, you sort of remind me of a bird, too.”

He slowly took a few steps into your room, his sharp eyes raking over your body, committing every detail of you to memory, from the way your nightgown hitched up your legs from how you moved in your sleep, draping over you body like a cloth hiding the enticing beauty of a sculpture, to how your tense shoulders seemed to relax, eyes looking up at him in awe and curiosity. His smile grew bigger.

“With how gentle and charming you look, that white gown you’re wearing… You remind me of a dove.”

The wave of heat now overtook you completely at the sound of the word and you shifted uncomfortably, a shiver breaking down your spine and only further serving to confuse you. You realised what — or rather who he was. You knew the kind of effect he could have on humans. And yet, you were still a little surprised at the foreign sensations that were manifesting. Your fantasies never managed to get you this flustered. Through your confusion and nervousness, you managed to find enough words to string together a question.

“What are you doing here?”

“I answered your call.”

There was a pause as you tried to understand the meaning of his words. “My call?”

“Yes,” he voiced softly. “You called for me, right as you dozed off to sleep, and I answered.”

His responses were matter-of-fact and you noticed how his gaze drifted over to the desk beside him, the books you borrowed laying neatly on its surface. He looked at them for a moment before turning his attention towards you again.

“I can sense it, you know?” He watched the confusion swirl in your eyes, a smile still steady on his face, but this time it wasn’t friendly and polite. It was seductive. “Your desire. It’s why I heard your call so clearly from the stars.”

You pursed your lips together, embarrassed that you were caught red handed, and for the first time since you laid your eyes on him, you looked away. You heard him chuckle softly and it only made your frown deepen.

“No need to be ashamed, dove. It’s completely natural.” His expression softened and he tilted his head to the side as he leaned on the edge of your desk and crossed his arms over his chest, accentuating the muscles beneath his shirt. “It’s a shame, really, how humans lie to themselves about their nature.”

Your eyes shifted back to him. “What do you mean?”

He vaguely gestured with his hand in the air. “Well, should a fish feel ashamed for craving water? Should a bird feel ashamed of its need to sing? Should a human who hasn’t eaten in days be ashamed of their hunger?” He saw you turn your attention fully to him, as if answering him with a silent ‘no, of course not.’ He placed his hand back across his chest. “Then tell me, why are humans so ashamed of sex?”

You gasped at his choice of words, but the way he was looking at you, almost amused at your reaction, told you he didn’t actually need an answer. Not that he gave you a chance to say anything before he continued talking.

“The brutes you live among only speak of the filthy side of love-making. They paint a disgusting picture that would turn any person away from it.” He took a moment to observe your reaction, and you could see his sharp eyes darken. “But you, dove, you understand there is beauty in an all consuming fire, don’t you?”

You pressed your thighs together as he lowered his voice, the question almost a whisper, and that was enough of an answer on your part. Your mind immediately stumbled into the gutter, the image of his scorching touch on your skin at the forefront, but you were hoping he didn’t notice the way you swallowed thickly at the thought.

He did.

“People try to keep innocent humans like you away from monsters like me, specifically to maintain that purity of yours,” he continued, attention shifting slightly as his fingers brushed over the golden title of the book from your desk. “But in doing so, they deny you a fundamental birthright that all humans have.”

You almost gasped when his eyes fell on you again. In the shadows, they almost seemed to be glowing, hypnotising you, calling for you to fall deeper into them until you got lost in him. Your breath caught in your throat the moment he spoke again, voice low and seemingly reverberating through your very soul, igniting a familiar warmth in your core.

“The right to pleasure.”

He pushed himself off the edge of the desk, taking slow steps until he was in front of you. You shifted, your legs neatly tucked under you as you watched him reach out his hand as an invitation.

“I’m here to help you reclaim that right, if you’ll let me.”

You looked at his hand, considering his offer. You thought back to all the nights when you had to go to sleep frustrated because you couldn’t satisfy yourself with just the thought of him and your hands, so it only took you a few seconds of hesitation before you reached out, placing your hand in his. Your lips parted slightly in wonder as you felt the warm tips of his fingers glide from your palm to your wrist, feeling your skin. You were suddenly overcome by the urge to touch more of him.

He looked at you, observing the way you gently brushed your fingers across his wrist and palm. From the touch, the fact that he was indeed real and not just a figment of your imagination sunk in even more.

“Can you stand up for me, dove?”

You complied as he gently pulled you up by your hand, stepping on the wooden floor and closing the distance between you enough that your bodies were almost touching.

Suddenly, a few feathers detached from his wings and flew around you, pressing softly into your back and pushing you into him. You gasped as the distance between you closed abruptly, looking around at the feathers in surprise at how something that looked so soft and lightweight could have that much strength. Your eyes met his again in a silent question, and he smiled.

“I can control each feather,” his voice was soft and his warm breath fanned over your lips as he spoke. You felt your neck and face warm up at the closeness and his smile turned smug. “They can also do this.”

Swiftly, a feather climbed up to your chest and hardened like a blade, slashing the string holding the collar of your nightgown together and letting the fabric loosen on your shoulders. You gasped and quickly grabbed it before it could slide down any further and reveal more of your chest. Shooting him an indignant look, you frowned when he laughed softly at your reaction.

“Don’t worry,” he said, voice low as his hands climbed up to your elbows then found your waist, gently rubbing your sides. “You won’t be needing this gown for long.”

His lips brushed yours tentatively, and when you didn’t pull away, he fully leaned in to kiss you softly. He gently guided you, making note of your reactions. You enjoyed the feeling, it was as relaxing as it was exciting, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him even closer. This only encouraged him to fully snake his arms around your waist, caressing your back and holding you flush against him. After a few seconds, he pulled away so you could both catch your breaths, before diving in again, this time allowing his tongue to carefully brush across your lower lip. You opened your mouth to grant him access and he deepened the kiss, tilting his head so he could caress your tongue with his.

Your breathing got heavier as the kiss went on, only becoming more fervent by the second. Your fingers dug into his shirt as you tried to follow and mirror his movements, but your mind was becoming foggy, hot blood surging through your veins and heating up your skin. Before you knew it, a small sound of enjoyment left your throat, one of your hands getting lost into his soft hair and the other holding onto his shoulder as if he would slip away at any moment.

Despite your desperate movements, he was in no rush, savouring your taste and each sharp breath you’d intake, each sound, each flutter of your eyelashes when you looked at him as he pulled away for air. How lucky to have a beauty such as yourself in his arms.

“Would you let me take this off?” He gently pulled at the fabric of your nightgown and you wondered for a second if he was just asking to be polite and give you the opportunity to refuse. You didn’t dwell on the thought, instead sliding the gown off your shoulders and letting it pool around your feet, shivering at the cool air touching your goosebump-covered skin. Maybe you should’ve felt shy being exposed in only your underwear, but something in the way his lust-filled eyes flickered with a certain warmth made you feel like you didn’t need to hide. Just as you imagined, his gaze wasn’t devouring in the way you were used to: having men look at you with an appetite one would attribute to mere prey. Beyond the hunger swirling in his amber eyes was a clear appreciation for you, as if he was the one honoured that you allowed him so close to you, closer than anyone before.

His gaze drifted across your body, taking you in much like an aesthete would take in a masterpiece, admiring every detail of your curves and edges, every flaw that made you real, until his eyes met yours again. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear, the act feeling a lot more intimate now that you were bare in front of him, his for the taking.

His hands found your waist again and he gently guided you backwards until the back of your legs touched the edge of the bed. You heard his whispered request for you to lie down and you followed, lowering yourself on the mattress so you were comfortably lounging on it, arms on either side of your head. He grasped one of your hands and brought it up to his lips, kissing your knuckles and moving upwards leisurely, kissing your wrist, the inside of your elbow, your upper arm, reaching your shoulder and making his way to your neck. You tried to mask a moan and your increasing nervousness with a laugh.

“You’re taking your time,” you noted, voice shaky.

He laughed shortly. “The night is young and I want to enjoy you for as long as I can.” He kissed your collarbone and moved to your other shoulder, his hands running up and down your sides. “I want to see, feel and taste every part of you.”

You gulped and before you could say anything else, his mouth moved to kiss your neck. His tongue darted out, licking your hot skin and nipping softly at it before moving lower and lower, eventually reaching your chest. He kissed and bit softly at the flesh until his lips closed around your nipple, licking and sucking gently, his hand gliding down your side to reach your thigh and press it closer to him. After a few seconds, he kissed his way to your other nipple, his tongue circling it and his other hand caressing your skin, moving upwards and kneading your chest. Your sighs of pleasure spurred him on, and with your hands combing through his messy hair, he continued lower, across your stomach, reaching your thighs and offering them the same affectionate treatment. The feeling of his hot tongue on your skin and the slight sting of his stubble contrasting it was gradually pulling you deeper into lust, your muscles tensing once his teeth gently grazed the flesh of your inner thigh before sinking in to leave a mark which he then soothed with a kiss. You were becoming restless, unconsciously tugging at his hair to urge him to give you what you really wanted, but he continued his torturously slow pace and deliberate touches, determined to get you to use your words to guide him.

“Hawks,” your whisper was almost desperate as he nipped at your skin.

The corner of his lips turned up at the sound of the nickname you had granted him. “Yes?”

The words you wanted to string together in an answer were there, locked away behind your shame and embarrassment. You were already almost fully naked in front of him and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to voice your desires for fear of what he might think. It was ridiculous, you thought — he was there for your pleasure, after all — but that didn’t ease your worry when you got all tongue tied trying to respond, to request something of him, to demand more. Your silence must’ve given away your hesitation, because he stilled his movements and raised his head slightly to look at you.

“You can tell me, I’m here for you. I’ll do anything you want me to.”

Anything. What a tempting word uttered by an even more tempting mouth. You knew exactly where you wanted it.

You brushed his hair back and softly tugged him forward, closer to your core. He got the hint and his sharp eyes narrowed, putting up a slight bit of resistance with a smug smile to see just how far you’d go.

“Hawks,” you repeated firmly, starting to get frustrated.

“Yes?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I need your tongue on me.”

“I know.”

You had no time to be annoyed when two of his feathers detached from his wings to rip the last piece of cloth remaining between the two of you to shreds, finally revealing your dripping cunt to his hungry eyes. You would’ve closed your legs at the intensity of his gaze, had they not been kept spread wide open by a few more feathers so he could properly drink in the display. You thought you just imagined the wicked glint in his eyes when they flickered to your flustered face, but any doubt about it was soon wiped away when you felt yet another feather join the others by swiping across your heat, eliciting a gasp from you.

“You’ll have my tongue where you want it in due time.” He leaned back, supporting his weight with his arms, to stare at your whole body. “Until then, I’d like to enjoy this a little longer.”

You let out a soft moan at the sudden feeling of his feathers on your body. Their touch was firmer than you expected, and aided by how hot and sensitive your skin felt, each touch was more intense than the last. He concentrated the most movement against your clit and your nipples, listening to every sound you made, watching every reaction and minute change in your expression to properly adjust his speed and pressure. He tilted his head, eyes trained on you, but you couldn’t keep yours open from his intense scrutiny and from how your mind was slowly losing control, sinking into pleasure. Between blinks, as you were avoiding direct eye contact, you noticed the tent in his trousers and the fine sheen of sweat glinting in the moonlight across the part of his chest that was exposed. You noted how he was still fully dressed and for some reason, having him watch you like this, hypnotised, focused only on you, brought a shiver down your spine, goosebumps blooming across your skin as you threw your head back when he touched you just right.

“So gorgeous,” you heard him breathe out. “So good for me.”

Through the haze of your mind melting, you could only manage to let out a strangled laugh. “Shouldn’t I be doing something, too?”

He chuckled and sped up his feather’s movement against your clit, pushing it harder into you and occasionally teasing your soaking entrance. With a yelp, you reached down reflexively to stop it before two new feathers joined the fray and pinned your hands on either side of your body as you arched your back.

“You don’t need to do anything,” he said, voice low and dripping with desire. “Like I said, I’m here for you. Tonight is about you, so don’t hold back.”

“I-I don’t know…” you muttered. You didn’t have any plan on where to go with the sentence, a million thoughts rushing through your mind so fast they were melding together into a cacophony that was slowly being overtaken by the growing pleasure in the pit of your stomach. Your hips started to move on their own, walls clenching around nothing, and through your foggy vision you could see Hawks, his lips parted and chest raising and falling with each shaky breath he took. His pupils were blown wide, entranced by the way your body moved under his feathers. When they flickered upwards to look at your face, you let out a loud moan and he gripped the sheets at the sound, swallowing his saliva.

“You don’t need to know, you don’t need to think. You just need to feel.” His hand brushed against his thigh, travelling higher to palm at his erection. “Just do whatever comes naturally.”

Your heels dug into the mattress, fingers gripping the sheets beneath you and lips parting to let soft moans flow out of your throat at the feeling of his feathers running over your sensitive spots. The sound of his sighs of pleasure only pushed you further towards the edge, aching for release.

“I can feel it,” he said in a low, raspy voice, and your blurry vision shifted towards him with a questioning look. “My feathers. I can feel through them. I can feel how wet you are for me.”

He leaned forward, hands caressing the back of your thighs and taking the place of his feathers, keeping you spread for him as he stared at the one working on your clit. He lowered his head, retracting his feather and inhaling your intoxicating scent, heaving a shaky sigh across your bare skin which sent a chill down your spine. His tongue darted out and he gave you a soft lick with its tip, pulling a sound of surprise out of your chest before he pressed his tongue flat against your core and properly tasted you. A groan rumbled in his chest, reverberating on your heat as he fervently licked at your entrance, occasionally sucking on your clit. Your thighs shook, muscles tensing when the tip of his tongue pushed past your entrance to fuck you, his nose brushing against your clit.

“You taste so good,” his voice was muffled and breathy from between your legs. “A whole eternity I’ve been deprived of this, fuck. I can’t get enough of you, dove.”

The lewd sounds he was making as he fucked you with his tongue and tasted you like a man starved should’ve embarrassed you, but you were too far gone to care about anything but reaching your climax. Soon, your walls fluttered around his tongue, back arching as the tension in your stomach snapped, sending a tidal wave of pleasure across your body. You shivered in his arms and he groaned at your release, lapping up everything you had to offer him until the shaking in your muscles subsided.

As you were coming down from the clouds of euphoria, he opted for planting sweet, soothing kisses across your thighs. Once you calmed down enough to look at him, he smiled up at you.

“Was that good?” Still catching your breath, you could only nod at him. “I’m glad. Do you want to stop here?”

You were silent for a moment, weighing your options and their outcomes. You had been fantasising about this moment for so long it would be foolish to stop. Besides, his touch, his voice, the way he looked at you made you feel like refusal couldn’t be an option in any circumstance. Softly, you shook your head and his smile widened. You could’ve sworn his eyes shone just a little bit brighter in the moonlight.

His fingers brushed across your cheek. “I’m afraid you’ll have to tell me exactly how you’d like me to continue, then.”

You stammered, trying to find the right words to respond. You swallowed the lump in your throat that was locking away your voice and looked at Hawks, placing your now free hands on either side of his face to run your fingers across his cheeks.

“Hawks,” you spoke, gathering the confidence you needed to make your demand. This time, it was easier to find the right words, and you briefly wondered if his powers had something to do with how bold you were feeling. “I want you to fuck me.”

His wings fluttered from behind him as he licked his lip. “How vulgar,” he teased, mouth brushing against yours. “I really like it when you use your words, dove. Why don’t you keep letting me know how good I’m making you feel with that pretty voice of yours, hm?”

His fingers brushed against your cunt, rubbing your clit, and you gasped at the sensation. He closed the distance between you and kissed you passionately, his chest pressed against yours, the smooth fabric of his shirt rubbing on your sensitive nipples as you wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him close. You could taste yourself on his tongue and your head was spinning once again, hips jerking once he teased your entrance.

“So responsive,” he noted, not pulling away from your mouth. “Makes me want to see all of your reactions.”

One of his fingers slowly pushed inside you and you realised you were right: your fingers could never compare to his. He pumped slowly, teasingly, revelling in your kiss and the sounds he was pulling from you with each movement. He pushed another finger in as you attempted to move your hips in search for more friction, but his weight was holding you down and forcing you to accept the pace he set. You whined into his mouth and he chuckled, pulling away from the kiss slightly.

“Impatient, are we?”

“Please, Hawks!”

“Already begging and I haven’t even started. How greedy.” He leaned in and planted a kiss against your ear. “If you’re so pliant now when I’ve only gotten my fingers inside you, I wonder what you’ll do once I properly fuck you with my cock.” You let out a soft noise as your walls clenched around his fingers in anticipation. He groaned and cursed under his breath at the feeling. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fot me to fuck you nice and deep, feed into that need you’ve been feeling for so long?”

He licked at your earlobe and left a sloppy kiss under your ear as you moaned. You gripped his shirt and pulled at it, desperate to feel his skin on yours. “Take it off, wanna feel you.”

He chuckled and you watched as a few feathers detached from his wings to help pull the shirt off of him, not even attempting to pull his hand away from your cunt. Instead, he slowly added one more finger to get you used to the stretch and you groaned as the slight sting soon turned into pleasure. You ran your hands over his abdomen, across his chest, rubbing his shoulders and eventually getting lost in his unruly hair, pulling him into another all-consuming kiss. His hot skin pressed against yours was driving you mad, the movement of his fingers in you was relaxed, just enough to have you on the brink of an orgasm but not letting you fall over the edge.

You whined again, out of breath. The sloppy sound of his fingers rubbing between your folds, the way he was occasionally curling them to reach your sweet spot and his low groans were sending you into a frenzy of irritation and arousal. You moved your hips again, hungry for more friction, and you detached your lips from his with a wet pop.

“Hawks, stop,” you breathed out, voice high with desire.

“Stop?” His movements stilled immediately, only for you to groan loudly and buck back into his fingers, digging your nails into his shoulder blades and leaving red marks on his skin. He bit his lip and smiled, knowing they’d soon be a reminder of your night together.

“You know that’s not what I meant!” your voice was exasperated as you felt your cunt pulse and clench, so close yet so far. “Stop teasing!”

The low chuckle vibrating in his chest made you shiver as he resumed his slow pace, your mouth opening in pleasure.

“I don’t think I’ll let this happen so easily. I love getting you all hot and bothered like this.” He grunted and fucked his fingers into you deeper, earning a sweet moan from you. He deliberately pulled all the way out from you before slowly pushing back inside to amplify the squelching sounds of your cunt. You felt your face burn in embarrassment. “Mm, do you hear that? Do you hear how wet you are for me? I bet I could slide right in.”

You finally gave in to your self-consciousness and covered your face with your hands, trying to hide away from him. He chuckled softly, finding your shyness adorable, and slowly moved your hands with his free one so he could give you a charming smile as he watched that cute expression of yours. He leaned his forehead against yours and pulled his fingers out of you, earning a soft whine of disapproval from you as he gripped your hips.

“Do you still want me to fuck you, pretty bird? Want me to make that ache of yours go away?” You felt the head of his cock rub against your entrance and you gasped. “I promise I’ll make you feel so good.”

You nodded quickly, too impatient and lost in pleasure to use your words, and he slowly pushed into you. A scream got caught in your throat at the stretch and he buried his face into your neck, groaning at how divine you felt around him. After a few shallow pumps in and out to get you accustomed with his intrusion, he finally bottomed out and let you catch your breath before he set a steady pace, raising his head to watch your face contort in pleasure and scanning for any sign of discomfort.

Your hands went to his back as you moaned, leaving a new set of scratches on his shoulder blades to which his wings fluttered. His chest was pressed into yours, allowing him to feel your frantic heartbeat. He felt so good inside you, filling you up and hitting all the right places which you never even hoped to reach. The new sensations were too much to bear, and soon you bit on his shoulder as you came around him hard, your walls clenching on his length. He groaned at the feeling and didn’t give you a single moment of respite , wrapping his arms around your legs and throwing them on his shoulders, pressing you deeper into the mattress as he continued his pace.

“C’mon, dove,” he rasped, his voice breathless and dripping with desire as he pressed his lips onto yours. “Can you hold on just a little longer? For me?”

Your mind and body were melting, jolts of electricity surging through your now tired muscles. Your blood felt like liquid fire as your heart pumped it through you in a frenzy, and from the amalgam of sensations you felt the gentle touch of one of his feathers on your clit. Your back arched and the room felt like it was either floating or simply disintegrating around you — you couldn’t even tell anymore. Your vision was a kaleidoscope of moonlight and crimson red, specks of golden light from his hair and spellbound eyes coming in and out of focus as your eyes fought to stay open. By the time you felt him release inside of you, filling you with warmth, you had already lost count of how many times you came, pleasure bubbling under your skin and reaching deep within the marrow of your bones like boiling magma under the earth.

Exhausted, you felt him rise from you, pulling out, and you frowned at the sudden feeling of emptiness he left behind, the cool air of the night now directly hitting your sweat covered body and making you shiver. He quickly pulled you into his arms and wrapped his wings around you to shield you from the cold, pressing his lips to the top of your head and muttering sweet praises through soft kisses.

He stood there for a few minutes until he was positive you were dozing off, then pulled up the covers to tuck you in, retreating from your arms. You frowned in your sleep and stirred, letting out a small groan which he shushed softly, caressing your hair in a reassuring manner. You heard him shuffle around your room and you were more than happy to just let him mind his own business. After all, you were far too tired to question his actions and just wanted to let yourself fall into a deep, relaxing slumber.

Hawks walked around the bed, watching as you finally settled into a comfortable position, your breathing back to its steady rhythm. His gaze shifted towards your desk once again and he couldn’t help but open one of the books. When he was met with sugary declarations of devotion and filthy love-making laid down onto paper in verses, their main focus being the myth describing him, he couldn’t help the smile that spread on his lips. Oh, sweet dove. Your yearning truly knew no bounds.

Silence surrounded you for what felt like a few minutes, broken only by the soft sounds of your breathing. You almost thought he had already left before you heard the shuffling of his feathers dragging on your floor as you fully gave into your exhaustion and fell asleep. He climbed on your windowsill, stopping for a moment before he looked back at your sleeping form over his shoulder, his wings obstructing the lower half of his face, allowing only his eyes to peek over, alight with warmth.

“Sleep well, dove,” he whispered one last time before light engulfed him and soon enough, he was just a ray of feathers and light growing distant in the night sky.

❈

You must have gone insane.

Basked in the late morning sun, you stared incredulously at the nightgown that was covering your body. Your hands went up for what was probably the third time to check the string was actually still intact and snugly tied across your chest. You pulled up the bottom of the gown, checking your underwear — untouched, not even a hint of a tear. And the parts where your skin should’ve been blooming with bruises from love bites were the same as they were the previous morning, blank. Like nothing ever happened.

Just what the hell were you dreaming?

You brought your face into your hands, screaming internally as the images from what you assumed happened last night, but now weren’t so sure anymore, kept flooding your mind. You bit your lip to stop a smile from showing, torn between the shame of having offered yourself so unabashedly to what was essentially a stranger and the excitement still buzzing beneath your skin at how incredibly good it felt. You slowly slid your hands over your arms and sides, following the searing trail his hands had danced across the night before. Every word and every touch felt too vivid not to tremble at the mere thought. You wondered if it was all really just a dream. And if it wasn’t, you wondered if he would come again.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the familiar sound of Mirio’s voice calling for you at the front gate, offering warm greetings to whatever relative of yours was outside in the yard and explaining he came to pick you up for work. You scrambled to get ready, but as you stepped outside your house your movements were mechanical, going through the motions of your established routine. Mirio tried to start a light conversation with you, but you seemed lost in thought, distracted. He frowned slightly when it became obvious that you only registered around half of the words he was telling you, almost worried that something might have happened after he dropped you off at the library the night before. An apology settled on the tip of his tongue but he swallowed it back, opting to leave you be for the time being. You did seem to have just woken up recently, after all, hair still unruly and eyes half lidded with tiredness.

The rest of your day was a blur, thoughts centred on only one thing — only one person — ignoring the majority of small talk your fellow workers tried to initiate. You worked as if possessed, joined the masses as they left the field at the end of the day like a lost soul and rushed to your bedroom at night, grabbing your books and opening them, scanning the pages for the thousandth time. Still, it was not enough, so you laid back into your bed like all other nights, except this time you once again stared at the sky as you drifted off to sleep, calling for him.

And he once again descended for you.

You were insatiable, and his visits soon became a routine. During the day you sought him out through pages of poems and your own thoughts as you worked and worked, awaiting the time you’d finally return home to his embrace at night. He was willing to offer you whatever you demanded, letting you use him as you saw fit to explore and learn, to feel and consume, to defile and be defiled. A safe haven for all your fantasies to manifest.

You finally understood why all women were described as addicted to him in all the books you read. How could one not be? Even when you closed your eyes you could still see his warm expression, his sharp eyes staring into your soul, you could still feel the faint trace of his fingers on your skin and the sweet sting of pleasure and yearning between your legs where he spent most nights.

He began to see it, too. That sweet, sometimes teasing smile you’d turn towards the stars when you leaned on your windowsill, knowing he could see you. Your kisses and touches got bolder and more confident with each passing night. You should’ve been the one under his spell, and yet there he was, smiling dumbly at you and every expression of yours, every movement, every word.

He should’ve treaded more carefully.

How many nights had it been already? Ten? A hundred? A thousand? He didn’t keep count, a being cursed with eternity never does. And yet, he kept finding himself counting the seconds until he got to see you again in the dead of night. Days became agony, when in the past they’d used to pass in the blink of an eye, now they felt like the infinite void he was all too familiar with. He realised how deep he’d gotten himself when he spared a glance from the skies to check on you, quickly making a daily habit of observing you in your element, learning your routine and all the people you were close to. When he saw you next to Aizawa on yet another nightly walk to your home from the library, he couldn’t deny the pain that clutched at his heartstrings and pulled until he once again descended into your bedchamber at your call.

He could never deny you. He could never turn his back to your comforting touch, could never turn his face away from your sweet kisses, could never refuse to hold you until you fell asleep in his arms. You were too tempting, too sweet, too lovable to reject. Too unattainable. And he was too selfish.

After having spent so long mapping your body with his hands and lips like the atlas of heaven, his fantasies began evolving into more than just you chanting his name from under him as he claimed you yet again like the lustful beast he was. In the hours spent anticipating the time you’d beckon him again he liked to imagine you telling him about your day, about your happiness and sorrow, talking to him about your favourite books and all the characters that you loved, introducing him to all facets of your being that he couldn’t possibly have met while tangled in the sheets. He started to ask more personal questions at the outset of your encounters, to leave sweet notes attached to his feathers on your desk so you could wake up to them in the morning. He started craving more than just your body and your attention.

But he knew humans were creatures capable of finding boredom even in the most exciting of things once they became routine, and he couldn’t condemn you to an eternity of being by his side. After all, lust could only fuel your relationship so far before you’d crave stability and love. You deserved better than that, you deserved to be with a human that could make you happy, someone that could understand your wants and needs. Someone like Aizawa.

He watched with a frown as you opened the gate and bid farewell to Aizawa, who watched you until you were safely inside your home before he continued his walk back home. You looked exhausted once you called him to join you under the covers, immediately clinging onto him and burying your face in his neck, kissing and nipping at his skin. He wanted to tell you to stop and rest, but whenever he did so in the past you’d just ignore him or silence him with a kiss. He had to bite his tongue every time — he was there for you, after all. A tool like many others so you could relax and experience highs like never before.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t worried sick about you.

He knew what being exposed to him for so long could do to the human mind. He also knew you knew, with how much you had read about him. You were showing symptoms that people around you began to point out. Exhaustion, inability to focus for too long, lack of appetite. You were sick, but you didn’t care to notice it, not when your family called the village doctor to check on you, not when Mirio kept bringing you food at work each day with a worried expression, not when Aizawa banned you from being in the library after a certain hour so you wouldn’t collapse, not even when Hawks kept looking at you with a concerned frown whenever he’d enter your room and hesitating to even approach you.

Soon, hours melted away and you fell asleep in his arms after yet another night of being all over each other. He softly ran his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp, and stared at the books on your desk with a cold expression.

History was just repeating itself.

He realised that if he doesn’t soon stop, he’d end up with a broken heart or worse, with you losing your mind. So he stood up and plucked one of his feathers to use as a quill, and sat at your desk to leave you one last note. A request of sorts, but more so a promise. He wanted to give you a choice before it was too late.

After he carefully laid down his words onto the paper, he stood up and spared you a glance, eyes shadowed by sadness. He turned towards your window and the floorboards creaked as he took flight into the night sky. His red feather remained on the desk, on top of his note, a confession weaved through verses of an oath he didn't have the heart to not take. At the end of the day, he may have been an eternal being superior to humans, but he was still weak, always crumbling at your feet. Always wanting more.

Endlessly, my love endures,

My soul, mind and body yours.

Your love a cure, your name a prayer

Soothing the curse I must bear.

Though I’m far, your presence lingers,

The gentle touch of your soft fingers,

The promise of your voice tomorrow

Lulling away all my sorrow.

Endlessly, our love endures,

My existence claimed as yours,

And may our stars align

I will come to claim what’s mine.

❈

“I wish to be rid of my eternity.”

“Spare me your asinine jokes, Keigo.”

Hawks frowned, raising his wings and fluttering them quick enough to close the distance between him and the imposing man sitting on a velvet chair at the far end of the hall they were in. The marble floors reflected the multicoloured light bleeding through the stained glass windows, making the chandelier held up by chains on the tall ceiling glint a stunning rainbow. The man, engulfed by flames, fixed Hawks with a cold, unimpressed look, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. Hawks simply mirrored his stare.

“Does it look like I’m just joking, Endeavour?”

“I can never tell when it comes to you.”

“As if,” he scoffed. “Don’t look at me like I’m merely a child throwing a tantrum. I know very well what I’m doing.”

“No, you don’t,” the man’s voice resounded through the hall. He stood up and snarled at Hawks, his eyes narrowing. “You’re a fool, you’re letting yourself get carried away by a mortal. Have you forgotten your purpose?”

“You mean my curse?”

Endeavour sighed, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Call it what you want. You still can’t deny that a being like you has no business walking among mortals. You know very well that our worlds are far too divergent to work out.”

“That’s for me to worry about. You just need to let me go.”

“You’re talking as if I want to keep you here,” he scrunched his nose. “Could use the peace and quiet of your absence, but we can’t all have what we want.”

“Then I’ll take my leave.”

He turned around and raised his wings again, ready to take off, before Endeavour’s voice rang behind him:

“And just what is your plan, Keigo? You know you can’t undo eternity. Turning you into a mortal is an impossible feat even for me.”

“That may be true, but the opposite isn’t.”

“So you’re just going to curse a human? Is that it?”

Hawks grit his teeth, his frown deepening. He dug his fingers in his palm. “I thought you called it a purpose.”

The flames burning across Endeavour’s body flared up. He glared at Hawks, completely done with the pointless back and forth they were having.

“And what will you do when her mind can’t comprehend it?” He took a step towards Hawks, letting his arms drop to his sides. “What will you do when she goes insane from the responsibility and suffering that comes with being immortal?”

Hawks’s shoulders slumped slightly and he looked down at the ground, towards the place where you most likely were, below the skies. Endeavour knew. He knew about you and your encounters, and he knew about Hawks’s infatuation with you. But the life of immortals was ruthless by default.

He had grown accustomed to Hawks's habit of frolicking amongst humans. He was aware of the way Hawks would cure his boredom and loneliness by joining mortals in their beds, often ending in heartbreak on one side or the other. The roles of spirits such as them were never enough of an excuse for how dreadful it was to roam the Earth in isolation until the end of time.

He took one more step towards Hawks, his tone still stern.

“Wouldn’t it be better for everyone if you just let her live her life next to another mortal? I’m sure she’d be happier.” Hawks narrowed his eyes. “Just give up, Keigo. Being with her is impossible, you already know this. She’s not the first mortal you fell in love with and she won’t be the last.”

Hawks turned towards Endeavour abruptly, his wings unfurling. With the way his pupils dilated and eyes widened, he looked almost predatory.

“That’s not for you to decide.”

Endeavour didn’t flinch and continued to look at Hawks with the same unfazed glare. Even as he turned back around and spread his wings, taking flight as a beam of light onto the sky and disappearing like lightning, he didn’t stop him. Nothing could.

Nothing except you.

But you were unaware of what Hawks was thinking, none the wiser even after reading his note over and over again. At first you found it sweet, romantic, a slight shiver finding its way down your spine from how delighted you were at his confession. His notes were always sweet, but they were always focused on compliments towards you, rarely ever hinting at how he felt.

But once he stopped visiting you the day he left that note, you began to look at it differently. Perhaps you overstepped? Was your lust so powerful that even a roving spirit known for indulging in carnal sins got overwhelmed? Maybe he got bored of you and all your fantasies. Maybe you didn’t satisfy him the way he did for you. But then why leave a note basically offering himself to you? You didn’t understand and it frustrated you.

You found yourself spending more time at the library, avoiding Aizawa so he wouldn’t immediately tell you to go home and rest. You tried to read and reread any books you could find about the myth of The Flyer, anything that would tell you how his encounters with humans would end. You already knew that all humans visited by the spirit would seek help in banishing him from someone with expertise in the paranormal before they were consumed by insanity, but nothing was ever said about the spirit leaving on his own accord.

Were you really that off-putting?

You shook your head, clearing your mind of your insecurities and stood up to leave the library empty handed and with more questions than answers.

It had already been three weeks since Hawks stopped visiting you and you were starting to feel the coldness of your bed creep into your heart as well. The notes he left were all carefully kept in a notebook that you often opened whenever your longing for his presence got too unbearable. You were going through phases, at first you were confused, then you spent a few nights crying yourself to sleep at how he suddenly disappeared. You experienced anger, going up on a quiet hill in the dead of night to shout your frustrations to the skies, hoping he was still there, still watching over you. Your symptoms were supposed to be getting better after not interacting with him for so long, but instead they just progressively got worse. Your energy was constantly drained and you had no power to even pretend to be okay anymore. The one figment of a fictional world that you were able to experience and now he was gone, like a simple mirage in a desert that disappears once you get too close, leaving you to live a boring, unfulfilling life once again.

You realised this was more than just the thrill of having a supernatural creature want you when you found yourself missing his embrace after a particularly bad nightmare. You didn’t care about your physical desires anymore, they were extinguished to mere dying embers when you reached the conclusion that he may never come back. The ache in your core was quickly replaced by the ache in your heart and the jarring realisation that you were in love.

You missed him. His smile, his voice, his curious questions about your mundane life, his embrace, his warm eyes…

So you found yourself back at the top of the hill in the middle of the night when everyone else was sleeping, staring at the sky with a slight frown in your brow and biting softly on your lip. You paced around, unsure of how to start and what to say.

After a few moments, you stopped in your tracks and let out a heavy sigh. “Hawks… if you’re out there, I won’t ask you to come back. I’m just asking you to listen.” You looked down at your hands, your fingers intertwining in a nervous gesture before you looked back up at the stars. “I’m sorry if I did or said anything wrong. My intention wasn’t to push you away. It never was. I just…” A tear threatened to spill from your lashes as your voice cracked. You quickly composed yourself. “I just miss you. And I don’t mean your body or what we did together. I miss you. And if I never get to see you again, I just need you to know that… I love you. No matter how foolish or insane I sound for saying this, I have to get it off my chest. Even if I know you won’t ever feel the same.”

A light suddenly shone from the sky, reaching in front of you in less than a second like a thunderbolt. You flinched back and shielded your eyes from the brightness, slowly opening them and widening them at the sight before you.

Hawks was standing there, the same concerned look he had in the previous nights he visited you plastered on his face, pulling his brows in a frown. And yet, his eyes were kind, warm, looking at you with the kind of affection one grants the person they missed the most. You mindlessly took a few hurried steps towards him and he met you halfway with open arms, catching you and holding you close to him as you both wrapped your arms around each other. You clutched his shoulders, fingers digging into his shirt as if he would disappear the moment your hold on him were to waver.

“I’m sorry, dove,” his voice was soft, quiet enough for only you to hear. “I can’t do this to you.”

“What?”

Confused, you tried to pull back but his hand kept your head pressed against his shoulder. He couldn’t look you in the eyes without breaking, so he chose to avoid your gaze instead.

“I can’t keep doing this to you, it’s too dangerous. Eventually it’ll wear you out. You’ve seen the signs, you know the effect a creature like me has on a human,” his voice shook as he took in a breath. “If anything happens to you because of me, I might go mad. I would never forgive myself. We have to stop meeting like this. We have to stop.”

Your lip trembled and you gripped the fabric of his shirt tighter, wrinkling it between your fingers. His hold on you tightened ever so slightly when he felt that.

“You’re not even going to acknowledge what I just said?”

It was his turn to be confused. This time he didn’t stop you when you pulled away. Your glossy eyes and defeated expression pulled at his heartstrings and he had to resist the urge to kiss your sadness away.

You spoke up again, your voice shaky, “I said I love you. I love you, Hawks, I…” you trailed off, your eyes searching his for any hope to cling onto. “This is more than just lust for me and I don’t care if it ruins me because the alternative is a million times worse.”

“Dove-”

“One night,” you quickly cut him off. “One more night is all I ask for. We don’t have to do anything, I just need you here with me.” You leaned your forehead against his and ran your fingers through the soft tufts of hair at the back of his head. He visibly gulped. “Please, stay with me.”

Any shred of self control and willpower dissolved the moment those whispered words left your sweet lips. He closed the gap between you and kissed you with hunger and desperation, pulling you so flush against him that it seemed he wanted to become one with you, to burrow in your bones and spend the rest of his eternity within your heart.

He started muttering between kisses, each heated peck accentuated by declarations of “I love you”, “I don’t deserve you”, “I don’t want to hurt you”, “I’m scared.” He was pouring his vulnerability into your lungs with each stroke of his tongue, each hot breath mingling with yours, each caress of his hand on your back, and you gently cradled his face in your hands, urging him to slow down and pull away so you could look at him.

“I’m not scared,” you said softly, rubbing your thumbs on his cheeks soothingly. You smiled at him. “As long as I’m with you, I’m not scared of anything.”

He looked at you like you were a deity showing itself to a sinner to offer mercy, holding you like you were a treasure, his entire world. Of all humans he had met and laid with, you were the only one who didn’t turn away in disgust and fear after a while. The only one who leaned into his touch and didn’t think of him as a filthy beast that eats hearts for breakfast before throwing the humans away like used tools. The only one who didn’t run the opposite way and banished him so they could be free of his temptations and instead love other mortals like them.

The only one who ever returned his feelings.

He leaned in once again, kissing you like a promise, a vow of his love for you. He was desperate, pulling at your clothes, his forcefulness enough to have you lose your footing until he gently lowered you on the dewy grass, pulling away so he could look into your beautiful eyes again.

“Swear yourself to me,” he requested, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I know a monster like me has no right to ask an angel like you this, but I'm all yours and I want you to be mine. Please, I need to know you want this.”

“Hawks-”

“Keigo,” he corrected. “My name… My real name is Keigo.”

You smiled sweetly. “Keigo.” God, he could’ve combusted right there from how good his name sounded on your tongue. You grabbed his chin gently and ran your thumb over his lower lip. “I was sworn to you the moment you stepped into my room.”

In an instant his lips were back on yours, taking your breath away. The passion coursing through both of you was no longer simply carnal, there was something more in the way you were running your hands over each other, something akin to a silent vow of loyalty, a reassurance that you both felt the same.

His wings spread, shielding you from the view of the stars as his hands slowly ran under your clothes to find your skin. You undressed each other with slight urgency, leaving your clothes on the soft grass aimlessly. His hands slid up your stomach and cupped your breasts, softly kneading them and rubbing your nipples with his thumbs.

You let out a moan and ran your hands over his arms, to his shoulders and down his back, rubbing at the base of his wings. He shivered under your touch and left a trail of wet hot kisses from the corner of your mouth to your neck, where he gently bit the soft skin to leave a mark before running his tongue over it to soothe the pain. Your intoxicating scent kept pulling him deeper under your spell, his hands now roaming all over your body, reaching your thighs and holding them up against his hips.

“Tell me what you want, dove,” he said, raising his head slightly to look at you.

“Just you,” you responded. “I don’t want to wait tonight. I just need to feel you.”

“Anything you want.”

His hand slid up your thigh and dipped between your legs, finding your clit and pressing down on it with his fingers to rub soft circles onto it. You whined and bucked your hips, trying to urge him to stop stalling and just fuck you properly, but he peppered loving kisses on your face to calm you down, softly saying that he wants you to be ready for him. Once he was satisfied with how wet you got, he grabbed his cock and pumped it a few times, spreading his precum on his length before rubbing the tip at your entrance. He pressed his lips onto yours again in a loving kiss just as he pushed into you slowly. You moaned into his mouth and kissed him back, hugging him close to your body.

He set a slow, sensual pace that had you seeing stars even as he blocked your view of the night sky with his wings. He’d been inside you many times, but even while experiencing intense highs in his arms, it never felt quite this loving, this safe, this intimate. You were holding each other like you were going to vanish at any second, like you were each other’s lifelines, your eyes closed in bliss as you focused on each thrust of his into your cunt.

“Look at me,” you heard him demand breathlessly.

You opened your eyes and stared into his amber ones, burning bright just for you in the fires of love and passion. A feather came to wrap around your ring finger snugly and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the action, his lips tugging into an amused smile in response. He gave you one more kiss before he sped up his pace. Your lips parted to let out a moan as he started hitting that sweet spot inside of you, groaning at how you squeezed around him.

“All these years,” he panted through each thrust, voice low and heavy with desire, “these centuries, away from you… I never realised how agonising they were until I met you.”

You moaned his name, a sweet sound that he echoed with a whine when your walls clenched. The way he was looking at you, transfixed and affectionate, was a stark contrast to the obscene sounds your bodies were making as they connected.

You combed your fingers through his hair and pulled him closer, lips crashing against each other in a devouring kiss. You slid your tongue into his mouth and revelled in the way his hips stuttered for a moment as a shiver ran through him. A gasp left you suddenly when you felt a feather of his on your clit, rubbing circles as his hand travelled your curves in paths he’d grown to know by heart.

He stood up straight, much to your displeasure, to properly watch your expressions morph. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder to deepen the angle of his thrusts, leaving sloppy kisses on it as your breath got caught in your throat. You felt your stomach flutter with butterflies at his affectionate pecks, before dropping as the coil in it tightened, signalling that you were close to your release. You threw your head back and didn’t even bother to find the words to tell Keigo you were approaching the edge. Not like you needed to, anyway. He could tell by how your muscles tensed and how your walls pulsed around him, pulling him in and under your spell.

His wings shook, feathers ruffling like leaves in the wind, and he leaned in, letting your leg drop off his shoulder so you could wrap them both around his waist.. His lips grazed yours, heavy breaths melding together as he pressed his forehead into yours.

“Come with me,” he breathlessly demanded, and even through the haze of your scorching bodies pressing against each other, you recognised the vulnerability in his voice. You understood the real meaning of his words hidden in a phrase he often whispered to you at the height of pleasure — join me in eternity.

You were ready.

You closed the gap between the two of you, a wordless affirmation to his request, and held him as your body shook, back arching and pressing your chest into his as you soared through your orgasm. Your vision blurred, and for a second you felt as if your soul was leaving your body from the intensity. The only sounds reaching your ears were your moans and him chanting your name like a prayer.

He was not far behind, only lasting for a few more pumps into your sweet cunt before tripping over the edge, groaning in a hungry kiss whilst waves of pleasure crashed over him and made goosebumps bloom on his skin. He emptied himself inside you and you felt how his cum and your arousal were dripping out of you with each lazy pump he gave as you both rode out your orgasms. Eventually, he gently lowered his body fully on yours, still inside you, and pressed his head on your chest to listen to your fluttering heart while you both tried to catch your breaths.

He felt you kiss the top of his head sweetly as you held him close.. He grabbed your hand, gently caressing it and staring at his feather still wrapped around your ring finger. He smiled, bringing your hand to his lips for a kiss.

“Can we stay like this for a while?” you asked, gently combing your fingers through his soft locks. He melted in your embrace.

“We can stay like this forever if you want to.”

You smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

You closed your eyes, relishing the feel of his warmth against you, listening to his soft, calming breaths. You felt like you were in heaven, finally happy that you were back in his arms with the promise of remaining so for many years to come. You were sure that everything would be okay as long as you were together with Keigo, the man you had come to love, the man who couldn’t wait to spoil you and shower you in his affection now that he had no reason to hold back. You were ready to spend the rest of your eternity beside him.

Right where you belong.

❈

My dove, with dawn fast approaching

So are you my thoughts encroaching,

For when dusk returns in place

So will I to your embrace.

When I do, kiss me, and then

Watch me fall for you again.

When you called upon my name

You promised my heart to tame.

All I do, your love commands.

All I am is in your hands.

And likewise, my crimson feather

Promises we’ll be together

When our stars align once more.

Together, forevermore.

#smut #bnha smut #hawks smut #keigo takami smut #bnha x reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #mha x reader #mha smut

[snnrinc]

[snnrinc]

Ok can someone tell me WHY the FUCK am I only now noticing that the headmaster from Vampire Knight looks like Sydney??

LIKE

sIR

I'm boutta lose my damn mind

#you can't tell me this ain't him #I already drew Vampire!Sydney #maybe I should draw Vampire HUNTER!Sydney #degrees of lewdity #dol #dol sydney #sydney the faithful

[snnrinc]

The Whitney experience summarised

#reblogs #dol #dol whitney #whitney the bully #degrees of lewdity

[snnrinc]

this is what i meant when i said syd listens to chase atlantic

#reblogs #HOLY SHIT YOU DREW HIM SO FINE #I love this so much #he'd definitely play Church by Chase Atlantic when wooing PC #and I'm here for it!! #degrees of lewdity #sydney the faithful #sydney the fallen #dol sydney

[snnrinc]

Sydney with dark hair looks like the type to listen to metal inside the church and I'm here for it. Just like, PC is possessed and instead of saying a prayer, he just blasts Communion of the Cursed at full volume inside the temple.

Soooooo~ I planned to draw only Pure!Sydney and Corrupt!Sydney for this one, but eventually I ended up drawing all school LIs in a batch, which took a lot of time, but I think they came out nicely

Regarding Sydney - since the game mentions quite a few times that Syd is UNNATURALY strong (even in his corruption route where you cannot push him away or that scene where he fights a bunch of nurses) I decided to add some muscles to him, so he came out a lilttle beefy (which I adore to be honest) 

Whitney is not very original I guess, but I suppose he might be scarred a bit and also have some bruises from his fights.  He’s also beefy. And his hair is dyed blonde 

Robin is a shiny-pure boy, as intended, and he has a lot of birthmarks ( I intended to make him look a little asian, but I dunno if I did well)

And Kylar…..Kylar is a scary lil’ gremlin

(To be honest a headcanon setting for this game in my head is kinda dark, where town is a depressing and sad place, and the Corrupt!Sydney is the same yandere as Kylar is)

#reblogs #degrees of lewdity #dol #Sydney the Faithful #sydney the fallen #whitney the bully #robin the orphan #kylar the loner

[snnrinc]

no thoughts just sleepy Kylar

MUAH

#reblogs #I love her hair so much she's so pretty 😭 #this is gorgeous OP #dol #dol kylar #kylar the loner

[snnrinc]

big DoL doodle dump while waiting for 0.4 to drop lmao

#reblogs #dol #dol sydney #syd looks so good with those wings I'm losing it #OP your PCs could break me like a twig and I'd thank them #amazing art!!!