My Hero Academia/ Boku no hero Academia
Hawks (Keigo Takami) "Dreams of Flying"
Warnings/tags: Hospital setting, no medical descriptions other than clean bandages, SFW, fluff, Gender Ambiguous Reader
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Dreams are strange things. One minute you're eating breakfast at a table you are convinced is from your childhood home- though you've never seen that shade of wood at a single family meal in your life- and the next minute you're being rushed off to save the city.
It always feels worse when you go from being you to being someone else though. Because that loss of self makes it hard to focus in the moment.
"Fly!" An old woman yells at you when you turn the corner of a familiar street. Her command causes your pulse to quicken in your veins, the thrumming of your heart bearly audible over her words as she cries out, "If you want to save them, fly."
So you do. As easily as one would if they were born with the ability. A powerful flap of your strong wings has you airborne and speeding towards your destination immediately. Everything in your dream brain, foggy with the mysteries that come with sleep, is telling you where you are going magically. As if you actually knew through some instinct.
It isn't until you can see the familiar skyscrapers of the city in front of you that you question it all. The shining of the sun off the buildings was suddenly so strong that it could completely blind you if you didn't block the rays with your arm. "How am I flying?" you wonder.
And then you fall. The screams of whoever you had failed to save ringing in your ears. It mixed with the whistling of the wind into a cocktail of horror. "I have to fly again," you thought, terror trying to consume your mind. "I have to fly again or I will die."
There is no way to explain how you know, but due to the luxuries of dream logic you know you'll land on your back soon if you can't right yourself. Unfortunately, you also know the impact will kill you.
With hands pressed to your ears, trying unsuccessfully to smoother out the screaming wind, you focus on that feeling of flight you just had. "Come on," you mumble aloud dor the first time. Then your eyes go wide. That wasn't your voice coming from your mouth.
But the screaming is. The screaming is your voice.
You gasp, head shooting up from where it had been resting on your arms. The feeling of the dream being reality didn't slip off very quickly and your shoulders ached from the strain of imaginary wings trying to save your life.
It takes a minute for your panicking brain to begin to register your environment. The smell of cleaner, plastic, and bodies. The sound of the heart monitor beeping loudly. There was a taste of disappointing vending machine coffee still lingering on your tongue. The feeling of sheets that were too clean to feel natural. And the sight of Hawks laid out in the hospital bed you had fallen asleep on.
You had fallen asleep on the small space next to his hip, but you weren't quite sure when.
Even though you felt reasonably grounded now, some part of your brain was still screaming about the dream. It still felt real somehow even though it had been completely fabricated by your subconscious. Nothing had been correct. Not your dining room table, or the voice you heard from your own lips, and especially not the part of you being a hero.
No. That wasn't your job. It was his.
A hand touched the top of one of your hands. They were both still splayed out onto the too clean sheet as you had gotten your grip on reality back. The touch made you jump for a moment but you felt better when your eyes met Hawks' yellow ones.
"Hey." Hawks' voice was rough from lack of use, husky and rocky all at once, but still calm and so self-sure. It would have been a bit attractive if he wasn't looking at you from a set of white bandages that covered his forehead and nose. "Bad dream?"
Without thinking about it, your hand turned palm up so you could clasp his hand in return, the last dregs of the weight of the dream slowly dripping off your shoulders. "Yeah. I think so," you whispered. It felt natural to speak quietly because of his own low voice, even though it was only 5pm in the hospital. “I’m sorry. I wanted to be awake when you came-to.”
He gave your hand a small squeeze of assurance. “Don’t be. I was happy to see you getting some rest. Plus you’re so cute when you drool like that.” He chuckled, though it was short due to the dry nature of his throat.
The sound of his rough dry laugh made you come back into yourself as you turned to find the water that had been left when the nurse last came by. You kept his hand in yours as you collected the cup with a stretch, turning the straw with your thumb so Hawks could easily sip it when you brought it to his lips. “I was not drooling,” you said.
Banter was normal. It helped the situation feel more stable for the both of you. But under each word was the underlying, unspoken “are you okay?” And the question wasn’t only aimed at Hawks who looked the worst in the room, it was aimed at you too. It joined the myriad of unspoken questions that Hawks directed at you every day.
"Are you sure you want to deal with me?”
“Is this too much for you?”
So many unspoken, heartbreaking questions.
Hawks sipped from the straw, knowing better than to take too much water all at once. He’d been here before, but it was your first time. Well, first time at the hospital with him seriously injured. There had been other visits, easier ones. But you knew that Hawks’ job was to be a hero and yours was to just be there for him.
Not that he had ever asked that of you.
Hawks’ job was to be the hero. That thought lingered.
The dream flashed in your mind, even though it was already fading at the edges. ‘Fly' the old woman had urged. But it wasn’t you who could fly. Why had your mind done this to you? What was it trying to say?
You snapped out of your thoughts as Hawks called your name, forcibly peeling your eyes away from the wall that you had zoned out into and going back to his face. He had one eyebrow raised in question, and you realized you hadn’t heard a word he had said. “Sorry, what?”
“I asked what you dreamed about.” His voice sounded much more normal now. It was amazing what just a little bit of water could accomplish.
Seeing he was done with it for now, you turned away to set the cup back where it was. It was only a moment away from his perceptive eyes, but you took it to remind yourself that your job was to be here right now. Mentally and physically. “It was just a dream. Nothing to worry about,” you replied as you turned back to him, smile perfectly in place.
Your hands had never broken apart in all of that, and he ran his thumb on the back of your hand. “I want to hear about it, if you’ll tell me.”
The unspoken ”are you okay?" again.
It felt wrong to deny him this insight into you. Especially because he had to know it involved him in some way. “I was at home,” you started, leaning forward on your arms so you could rest your head very gently against his hip. That area wasn’t damaged- other than some minor bruising- so it seemed okay to do. He didn’t protest.
“Your apartment?” he asked.
“No. My childhood home. Or rather a dream version. You know, when things seem familiar but you’ve never seen them before?” He nodded. “I was having breakfast and my mom was talking about work, I don’t really remember the details of what she was saying. And then I was… walking down the city streets.”
You knew the path. It was part of Hawks’ regular patrol path, but you didn’t really want to share that detail. You had walked it with him a few times when you were still unconnected, but hoping that would change. “And an old woman saw me and… she told me to fly. So I did.”
A long pause followed that thought, you weren’t really sure you should continue the dream. So it lingered in the air, unfinished until Hawks slipped his hand from yours and pet the top of your head sweetly. “How’d it feel?”
You closed your eyes, enjoying the sensation of his hand on the top of your head. “Scary.”
“Scary?”
“Yeah. Because I knew that if I didn’t someone was going to be hurt. The old woman told me that. That if I wanted to save someone I had to fly. Usually flying in dreams is freeing but this just felt… scary.”
I heard a scream. It resonated through the air like a thunderclap. Loud, rolling, inescapable. And my wings stopped working. Then I fell.” Hawks’ hand on the top of your head stopped moving, but he didn’t pull away so the weight of him was still with you as you remembered the dream. “I don’t know if I have ever felt that kind of falling in a dream before. I was so high up and I knew the ground was coming but I had completely forgotten how to use my wings.”
The corners of your mouth turned down. “I realized I wasn’t me. I mean I was falling, it felt like me, but it wasn’t. I was you. The scream though… the screaming was me.” Slowly you opened your eyes, looking at Hawks from your position on his lap, his hand still resting on your head but at an angle which allowed him to see your face.
His lips were turned down in a frown of concern, brows lowered to match. Your heart squeezed in your chest. You had answered his questions, both spoken and unspoken.
You weren’t okay.
“Y/n, I-”
“I think I just wanted to see how you saw things,” you interrupted. You had to. In your heart you knew the words that he was about to say could ruin everything. If he apologized or offered to break things off to spare you, everything would be different. Those words couldn’t come out into the open because then you’d both think about them all the time, even if you said no to breaking up each and every time. It would become a parasite that would drain the relationship you were managing until it eventually died.
You couldn’t let him say those words.
Sitting up you took his hand from your head and put it to your cheek, closing your eyes and planting a kiss into his palm as you cradled his fingers with yours. “It must be so hard to have such a gift that comes with such weight. I’m so proud of you. You’re so strong,” you whispered, kissing his palm between each sentence and nuzzling the hand when you weren’t.
You heard his breath let out slowly and chanced a glance at his face again glad to see that concern easing off, the words that had almost escaped slowly backing back down into his heart again. “It’s not all bad,” he said. He wanted to sit up but was too sore, so instead he urged your face to his which required you stand up and lean over the bed. He brought you close so he could put your forehead to his. “Because flying also takes me to you.”
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Razor: Your First Time
Commission (Posted with commissioner’s permission)
Warnings/ tags: NSFW, Sex, Virgin!reader, AFAB, Fem pronouns, wholesome
Word count: 5.6K
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“Wait for someone special.”
“You don’t want to give it to just anyone.”
“Give it to your husband.”
Everyone seemed to have an opinion about your Virgin Card. How the only person you should give up your virginity to was someone that you’d marry or meant the world to you. But really, you just wanted to give it up to anyone that would actually please you. Too often you had heard your friends talk about how their first times were messy, sloppy, and unsatisfying. And you were determined to not have a first time like that.
But you never thought that a former criminal would be the person you would trust with such a task.
Razor was different from anyone else you had ever met. He was so calm, sure of himself, and in charge. Even your virgin mind couldn’t miss how terribly sexy that was. A guy who had nothing to prove and lived in the moment. Lived the way he wanted to every day.
He had drawn you like a moth to a flame. And when you had told him about being a virgin- over drinks and pretending not to be blushing like mad- he merely laughed and acted like it was no big deal.
Maybe that was when you decided: it had to be Razor.
“I want you to fuck me,” you said blatantly, watching the man’s reaction as he lowered his water bottle to look at you directly.
You hadn’t warmed him up on the topic, perhaps because you were so nervous- and it wasn’t like you were versed in such a conversation. But standing on the side of the road, watching Razor finish his daily run had turned some desire on in your head. It was now or never, you decided. If you didn’t just blurt it out, then you’d never have the guts.
“Okay,” he said with a smile. “Come to my room tonight at 8.”
Then he left.
Left you standing in the street as he jogged off to shower like he always did after his run. And nothing more was said about it.
Was that normal? Had you messed up?
As the day wore on, you decided the only thing you had messed up was not tacking on “right now” because all day you were a wreck. What should you wear? How should you behave? Should you shave? How much? Should you have bought cute underwear for this? Or should you have gotten a sexy lingerie set in anticipation?
You hadn’t expected him to say yes like that! There hadn’t been time to prepare in advance when you didn’t even think it was going to happen!
The day was a wash. You saw Razor off and on as he trained, interacted with the other pirates, and waited for a player to come and try him for his cards. But you didn’t try to talk to him directly again, and he didn’t call any attention to it. He just continued to live his life normally. Which drove you more insane.
A shower at minimum was achieved before 8. A simple outfit chosen with some of your nicer underwear. But it felt lacking. Razor knew you were a virgin, but what if he was expecting more effort on your part? After all you had asked him, so wouldn’t it be normal for him to assume more preparation on your part?
These thoughts raced in your head as you stood outside his bedroom door, knuckles turning white from gripping the hem of your skirt as tight as you were. A dress had seemed appropriate. Flirty and cute. Even if it wasn’t your usual, especially since you had gotten to Greed Island.
With a deep breath you released your dress and knocked on the door, the resounding thuds coming much more quietly than you had anticipated. ‘Great, now he’ll know I’m nervous,’ you thought.
The door opened to a smiling Razor. He was wearing a fresh white shirt, black sleep shorts, and had a book in one hand- thumb marking his spot as he leaned on the arm that held it. “Good evening.”
“Good evening,” you responded. Was your face hot? Nothing had even happened yet! “H-how are you?”
Razor chuckled, standing straight again as he took a step back from the door so he could open it fully, dropping the book to the desk by the door casually. “I’m great. Come on in.”
You nodded, and did as he instructed. Inwardly you were trying to build up your own confidence and pretend you had as much calm and self-confidence as he did. The door shut and a lock slid into place with a click. It shouldn’t have made you nervous, obviously he was thinking of your privacy, but it also made your mind race with the knowledge you were locked inside.
Large hands clasped your shoulders, their warmth both alarming and comforting as his thumbs rubbed your shoulder blades. “I only locked it to keep anyone from barging in,” he said in a soft voice, as if he could read your mind. “Come on.”
With a gentle, guiding push through the palms of his hands, he directed you to his bed. You sat automatically, hands in your lap, unsure what to do with them. He sat next to you, his weight on the bed causing it to bow more than your own had. “I-I don’t know what I should do,” you admitted, eyes flicking to his face then back to your hands. The tiny bit of confidence you had tried to muster up on the way in through the door was already gone. You were touching his bed, the place he’d fuck you, and you were completely lost at what you were doing.
“Just tell me when you don’t like what I’m doing,” he said with a quiet voice. You nodded, still unable to look at him. “You’re so cute. Don’t be scared.”
Razor cupped your cheek, turning your gaze to his face. Looking into his calm and confident face made you less nervous. It was so easy to fall into his grip as he brought your lips to his, kissing you with the same force he would have used on someone that he had kissed a million times. Not gentle, like someone who was afraid- like you were- but firm and sure.
Your eyes closed instinctively, letting his warmth wash over you as both of his hands encased your face. Naturally, you opened your mouth so that Razor could flick his tongue over yours. Awkwardly you tried to mimic his movements, momentarily worried you were doing it wrong, but he didn’t stop you or laugh so you kept mimicking him.
Already, you mind was starting to get fuzzy from the feelings. Razor’s presence against your skin, the way the kiss made your insides buzz and flutter, and the way your core was starting to twist up in excitement. All of this was so much more dizzying than you had expected. You had kissed people before, but this was different. This was a kiss with a special anticipation behind it.
He broke away, shifting on the bed and pulling you with him so you were both sitting in the middle of the mattress that was really only made for one. “I’m going to undress you,” he said, waiting for your nod of understanding before he put both of his hands onto your thighs and slid them up.
Razor trailed your sides, the calluses on his hands causing you to shiver as each rough bump of skin felt completely distinct. Instinctively you lifted your arms up, and he guided your dress up and over your head with ease. If you hadn’t been hot before, you were now. Every part of your face and neck felt awkwardly warm. You wondered, what did Razor see? Did he see all the bumps you saw when you looked in the mirror? Was the shape of your body strange and unsatisfying?
But he was smiling still. It had never faltered even a fraction as he looked you over, drinking you in like lemonade on a hot day. “You’re gorgeous,” he praised, putting a hand into your hair to push it back from your face. “Absolutely gorgeous. Lay back for me, pretty thing.”
You listened to the instruction, some of the knots of worry were finally undoing themselves as you got swept up in Razor’s energy. He was so calm that it was hard to not just fall into his pace. “I feel like I’m not doing anything,” you confessed, trying not to cover your chest with your arms. Even if you were still wearing a bra, you felt exposed.
“You’re doing everything,” he replied with a small chuckle. “Trusting me to take care of you is what you have to do tonight. Got it?” You nodded. “Good girl.”
Just the praise was enough to make you squirm, a familiar yet new sensation of lust striking you at his words. Sure, you had felt turned on before, but this was different. This was so directly intentional. Something new wrapping up old feelings in a nice little bundle of excitement. Only, you didn’t know what to do with this new gift that had been thrust at you.
Continuing his slow pace, Razor put his hands back on your sides. He rubbed up and down, feeling your skin move under his rough fingers. It felt nice, comforting. With practiced precision he reached under you and unhooked your bra with a single hand. “I’m going to open you up nice and slow. Like a present.”
He had to lean over you on the bed to do his magic, and in that moment you never felt so small compared to him before. He was a large man, you knew, but now he felt abnormally big. If he noticed your look as you realized this, he didn’t let on.
Instead he kept his focus on his enjoyment of your body, putting his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them gently before sliding his thumbs under each bra strap and dragging them down your arms. You lifted your arms out of the loops without having to be told, but he didn’t take the bra from your chest.
Razor leaned further over you, kissing you once more but this time it was chaste. A single peck on the lips, and then he was traveling down your cheek to your jaw. Down your jaw line to your neck. Down your neck to your chest. Your hands felt so useless, laying next to you with nowhere to go.
His breath teased the tops of your breasts as he kissed the line where your bra met skin. A tiny rolling, tingle ran down your spine at the sensation. “You’re doing so good,” he praised, kissing the line again before using his cheek to slide the bra down just a touch. With each kiss he moved the bra, exposing your one breast to the world. You gripped the bedding in anticipation, knees knocking together between his legs to attempt and contain your growing need.
“Razor,” you breathed which made him stop immediately. “Please go faster.” It was nice, but the anticipation was starting to kill you. You just wanted it to be over so you could stop feeling so awkward. But at the same time, you were enjoying him dragging it out. Warming you up and making you feel so comfortable. Making you feel good.
“Patience, y/n. I told you, I’m going to open you up slowly.”
Your nipple was exposed from the kisses, and Razor finally moved the bra completely off your body, depositing it to the floor with the dress. “I want to enjoy you,” he whispered before licking your nipple with one smooth, slow, motion. The unfamiliarity of it made you shiver and gasp. He chuckled.
“W-What?” you asked, opening your eyes to look at him as he hovered over your chest.
“I’m just enjoying the moment. Aren’t you?” he asked before licking your nipple again, but this time it was quick. Just a flick of the tongue that lifted your breast ever so slightly, making it jiggle as it settled back into place.
You huffed, a bit embarrassed at the lighthearted mood of the room. “Can’t you be serious, please?”
“Why?” he asked, shifting his weight over you. Razor’s face was over yours, one arm supporting him as a hand went to the breast he had already teased. As he spoke, a thumb rolled over the protruding flesh, “There is nothing wrong with having fun with sex.”
Husky sighs came with each roll of his thumb. What he said made sense, but you felt like you were supposed to be serious in this moment. That was what sex /was/. Wasn’t it? “I wouldn’t know,” you responded, sounding the most confident and controlled you had since you knocked on his door.
“No,” he smiled. “But you will.”
Razor kissed you again. This one was crushing, his lips smashed into yours as his tongue worked yours with vigor. On your chest your nipple was no longer merely being rubbed but pinched over and over. Gently overall, but with enough force that you gasped several times into Razor’s open mouth. Below you, your pussy was practically throbbing with need. It was uncomfortable. You pressed your thighs together as much as you could to try and squash the discomfort, but it didn’t help at all.
Sensing your unrest, Razor slid the hand away from your breast and ran it down your body to your underwear. In your mind you were screaming for him to just do away with the panties. For him to stop teasing you and fuck you already.
But true to his word, he slid his fingers over the cloth so he could take his time. A firm finger pressed into the front of your panties and he began rubbing while he continued his kisses. Your body reacted before your mind did. Hands were in Razor’s hair and on the side of his face, while your thighs opened up for him to have as much room as he could need to work your labia through your pesky underwear.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, how long you couldn’t be sure, but you slowly grew accustomed to the way he bit your lip just as he pressed his finger especially hard down onto your clit. Every time you would gasp or groan, legs fighting to stay open so he could keep working though all you wanted to do was clasp your thighs around his hand.
“You ready?” he asked, pulling away from your grip enough to speak.
You nodded, staring into his face like a desperate beggar. You knew without a mirror that your eyes must have looked /pitiful/ because you felt that way. Every part of your sexual being was screaming for this man to have his way with you.
He sat back and put his fingers into the waistband of your panties before you placed your hands over his. “You… you’re not… you still have all of your clothes on,” you mutter out, eyes focusing on his shorts before going back to his face. “It just doesn’t seem fair is all.”
Razor smiled. “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed like that,” he commented, making you turn your face away in shame. “Now don’t do that. Don’t you want to see the show you’re asking for?”
The sensation of his hands left your hips, and reluctantly you dragged your eyes back to his body to watch. Part of you wanted it to be your hands that gripped the hem of his shirt, bringing it up and exposing his defined chest. At rest, he had just a bit of fat on his stomach, hanging in a natural and pleasing way. But even though he wasn’t mid workout- the time you knew his muscles looked most defined- his chest still looked strong and toned.
Suddenly you hoped that you could withstand whatever he dished out into you.
Not aware of that thought, Razor dropped his shirt to the side of the bed, never taking his gaze off of you. Without a word he hitched his thumbs into the band of his shorts, and you opened your mouth to tell him to stop. But no words came out. Were you going to tell him to wait, you weren’t ready? Or that you wanted to take his shorts off?
He waited a moment, seeing a look of hesitation cross your face. When you didn’t say anything he decided to continue. Your eyes were fixated on his motion, not thinking at all about how obvious you were being as you stared. But Razor didn’t mind at all, perhaps it excited him to be observed so carefully because you saw a slight twitch under the black fabric before his large hands dragged his shorts off.
You didn’t have any personal experience with which to compare Razor to, though you had seen images of dicks. But seeing him in person was nothing like seeing a picture. He was firm, but not yet fully erect. His length seemed average, but his girth was already bigger than any anatomy image you had ever seen. And for a moment you worried he wouldn’t be able to fit inside of you.
“You alright, y/n?” he asked with complete sincerity. Silently you were thankful he wasn’t making fun of your reaction. Due to your lack of response he put a hand on your thigh to get your attention, making you break eye contact with his cock as he leaned forward so your eyes looked back to his face. “We can stop if you want.”
“No!” It came out louder and more shrill than you had meant for it to. All you could think of was how hard it had been to get this far, to say the words to Razor to start with. But he didn’t seem comforted by your response, if anything it bothered him. His lips turned down ever so slightly into a look of concern and you scrambled to sit up. “No. I /want/ to do this. And… and if I don’t go through with it now,” you looked at his chest as your hands rested on your knees, “then I will just think I failed. And I’ll feel too stupid to ever ask you again.”
A soft sigh came from Razor. “Hey,” the familiarity of his firm voice called you to look up at him with a natural, obedient reflex. “You aren’t stupid. Stopping here doesn’t mean you failed. It just means you need more time. We could always do this another day. Okay?”
You nodded and he reached out to run his knuckles along the side of your face. Closing your eyes you leaned into the touch, enjoying this momentary reprieve. But you couldn’t enjoy it too long. Something about him touching you, no matter how tame, after how turned on you had gotten meant that any touch from him reminded your body of how wet it was.
“I want you to keep going,” you responded, opening your eyes of your own will this time. “Please?”
He nodded and you lowered yourself to the bed again, lifting your hips just a little to signify you were ready for him to take your underwear off. Razor happily helped, gripping the soft fabric around your hips and sliding it down. He had to shift to get them fully off of your legs, but when he repositioned himself he made sure he was between your legs and coaxed your knees to his sides. Being able to touch him while you were exposed did help you feel better. As if in this moment you two were connected and doing this together. Before, you had felt like you weren’t really a part of things, but something as simple as this contact brought you back to it.
Maybe that is why he did it, you thought.
“I’m going to warm you up,” Razor said as he ran two fingers down your labia.
You shivered, hands going to the bedding again to keep you feeling grounded. “Did… did you not already do that?” Somehow completely exposed you felt like your questions were less embarrassing. Or perhaps it was just because you had already laid out in the open your most frightened thought. The thought that Razor could view you as a stupid failure.
He nodded, moving his fingers up and down your labia with growing pressure. “You’re definitely wet enough,” he said in a warm way that didn’t make you feel ashamed. “But I have to prepare you for penetration. Even with lubrication you’re too tight. I don’t want to hurt you.”
It made sense, and even though Razor wasn’t waiting for a reaction you nodded that you understood anyway. “Okay,” you muttered, trying to prompt yourself to be more verbal. It was the least you could do, he had been doing so well at being verbal with you.
Razor’s eyes on your pussy didn’t make your nervousness come back. It just made you excited. The expression on his face as he watched his fingers work your sex was incredibly attractive. He was more relaxed than you were used to him being on average, but still pleased. Much like he looked when he had a few beers with you at the bar. But this was so much more personal than that. You had every ounce of his attention. In this moment there was only you for him to look at.
You loved that.
As his finger entered into your body you gasped. All thoughts you had been having were wiped from your mind as that haze from before blinded you again. Your knees squeezed his sides tightly as he dragged the digit in and out of you, thumb just whispering over your clit so as not to over stimulate you too much. You cried his name out as he curled the finger up and down inside of you, and he chuckled.
“I underestimated you,” he said, entering a second finger, spreading them apart as he moved in and out. He was testing how tight your muscles were, but it felt amazing when his fingers spread in and out as he moved.
“Wh-what do you-ah- mean?”
“I thought it would be easy to take my time with you. But it’s getting really difficult,” he admitted. As if to punctuate how he felt, he swirled his fingers inside as his thumb pressed down on your clit just for a second.
A lewd cry burst from your lips and you finally knew what it meant to ‘see stars’. It felt as if the haze in your mind was sparkling.
Below you, Razor had gone still. Waiting out your reaction so that he didn’t push you too hard too fast. But his stillness is what made you stop looking at the ceiling and down your body to his. Where his cock had only been half erect before it was now fully engorged. It hung down from his body, hard and ready. You thought maybe you saw a tiny glistening of precum on the tip, but you couldn’t be sure.
“Razor,” you panted, “am-am I ready yet? I don’t know if I can last too much longer.” You knew what it felt like to orgasm from your own efforts, and that same building feeling in your body was starting to get dangerously high. Actually, it was already higher than you were used to feeling from when you masturbated.
“I want to warm you up more,” he said. But his voice didn’t really match his words. He sounded like he was holding something back, and his tone had gotten noticeably deeper.
You released the comforter to put your hand over the one he was using to keep himself steady on the bed. “It’s okay,” you said, “I’m tough. Let me at least try.”
The look on his face said he wasn’t sure that was a good idea, but his cock twitched just enough for you to notice. “Are you sure?” As he asked, he moved his hand from your pussy to his cock, stroking it once. The action made you really look at his size, notice how thick he was.
But you were still sure. “Yeah. Just… go slow?”
He nodded as he put both hands onto your hips and dragged you down the bed towards him. The rush that you felt from that single action made you giggle a little. It struck you as potentially odd until you remembered his words ‘There is nothing wrong with having fun with sex’, and you decided that maybe he wasn’t lying after all as he positioned himself.
Razor slipped his cock along your wet folds, lubricating himself up in preparation as well as providing you a fresh wave of endorphins. It took effort, but you watched as he moved, the tip of his dick peaking over your body as he moved back and forth. You hummed in pleasure, already loving the feeling of skin against you like this.
Finally, he aligned the head to your body. You could feel the warm tip against your opening and your heart clutched in anticipation. He looked at you, one eyebrow raised. You gripped his hand again, wanting to feel that connection as he entered into you for the first time, and nodded.
It became clear immediately that Razor’s worries of you not being warmed up enough were unfounded. His cock glided in so easily that he accidentally entered into you more than he intended. But even though he fit inside of you, your body still had to stretch to accommodate him. Being filled from his girth so completely made you gasp and moan at the same time, which almost alarmed your partner for a moment before the noise truly settled into his ears.
“Fuck,” you whispered as Razor pulled out completely. Somehow you had managed to watch the entire motion from the first time he entered, to pulling out, and entering into you again. But this time he started to move in and out with more momentum and your head fell back onto the pillow below you. It was too much effort to hold your head up when pleasure constantly thrummed through your body, but you could see his face with your head relaxed.
His attention had to be divided, making sure to watch how you came together and that you didn’t seem to be struggling or in pain. But any time he looked at your face you could see the absolute joy he was having.
With a solid push he slid entirely into you and your thighs clamped down on his sides with their full strength as you gave out a strangled half cry. Sheathed into you fully, Razor could put both hands on your hips and help his pace by bringing you down towards him as he thrust up. Your nails bit down into the tops of his hands unknowingly as you tossed your head back gasping.
He groaned, bringing your hips together with a particularly harsh snap. “Damn,” he mumbled, “you feel amazing around me.”
Outside of this moment you always thought dirty talk was lame and kind of silly. But hearing the words fall from Razor’s mouth so sincerely made your blood warm.
Now you understood the appeal.
“Don’t stop,” you begged, already an unhelpful mess. It occurred to you that you were just letting him use you like a giant sex toy. Your hips lifted into his when the timing was right with the thanks of pure instinct, but otherwise Razor was doing all of the work while you felt overwhelmed with pleasure and feelings you had no words for.
“I didn’t plan on it,” he responded in a half joke, picking up his pace for a few thrusts before slowing again as if to emphasize his point.
“No,” you groaned, “don’t stop talking.”
“Do you like it when I tell you how good you feel, y/n?” Razor’s sex voice was deeper, and throughout you could hear his own noises of enjoyment. Small groans and huffs of his breath. “I’ve never had someone hug my cock like you.”
Your thighs couldn’t clamp down any harder, but you wished they could as you groaned out his name. “I’ll keep talking, if you keep being loud,” he promised from above you.
You had been so lost in your feelings that you missed Razor shift so that he was now fully on top of you, your hands gripped in his as they were pinned to each side of your head. He snapped his hips into you as you refocused on him and not the wall behind his bed.
Razor did as he promised, muttering when he could manage it about how good you felt, how gorgeous you looked below him. And you kept your end of the deal without trying. Each cry and moan was completely unrestricted and natural as the large man worked your pussy to his liking.
So lost in the activity you lost track of active thought, and when Razor slid into you completely and held there for a moment your legs locked around him and you rocked your hips back and forth, urging your own orgasm free with a cry of his name.
Dutifully he remained still, watching you orgasm below him. When you were finally over that peak you rested your hip muscles, feeling used up and exhausted. “I’m close,” he muttered into your hair before pressing kisses to your cheek. “Can I use you a bit more?”
Everything felt so raw and tired out, but you agreed anyway. You knew you could tell him you couldn’t hold out if it became too much.
Expertly, Razor released one of your hands so he could place it on your tailbone and held your pelvis up enough that he could hit a spot that seemed to please him. He couldn’t talk anymore as he chased his own release. Grunts, groans, and breathy calls of your name was all he could manage. The feeling of overstimulation was building, but for the time you still felt pleasure as he moved in and out of you quickly.
The hand against your tailbone pressed painfully hard and you could feel the warmth of his cum inside of you as he released, only a low growling noise coming from his lips. The hand he still clutched was being held so tightly that you almost told him it hurt, but knowing he wouldn’t actually cause you harm you chose to endure it.
Your free hand went to his hair, running your fingers through the sweat damped strands as his muscles trembled through his orgasm. You were glad you had told him to keep going. The feeling of his body going through those sensations had been exciting.
Spent, he pulled out of you and you couldn’t help the tiny groan that came from you at the loss of feeling so filled. Razor smiled at the noise, you could feel it against your cheek where the corner of his lips still pressed to you.
With the ease of moving a pillow, Razor laid onto his side and dragged you into his arms. He put an arm under your head, and you were somewhat surprised at how someone that was so strong and muscly was still so comfortable and soft. You rested your arms between the two of you as he rested his head on top of yours. Never before had you felt so safe and serene.
“Sorry I got a little rough at the end there,” he said, his voice resonating through your head as he spoke.
“It’s okay. It didn’t hurt in a bad way,” you confessed. Now you were glad he couldn’t see your face nor you his. It made it easier to say things like that so simply.
“Not in a bad way huh? I’ll make sure to remember that,” he replied. Idly his hand that was slung over your side slid to your back and started to rub.
“Remember that?” Your question was in half tease, feeling much more like your sparky self now that the initial awkwardness was so completely dead. “You saying you want to do this again?”
The hand on your back pressed you closer to him before resuming its previous action. “I can’t leave you half educated, now can I? What kind of trainer would I be then? Unless you have complaints. Then I guess I could-“
“No,” you cut him off, daring to lift your lips up to collar bone to place a small nip. “I chose you. So you better do this right.”
He laughed now and you smiled.
“Well if I’m going to do this right,” he said before kissing the top of your head, “then I better do it right.” With that he pushed you away, making you frown at the loss of his warmth. “Go pee so you don’t get a UTI.”
“You didn’t have to be so rough about it,” you pouted, sitting up since you could tell he was going to be insistent.
“I thought you said you liked that?” he teased, and you stood up in a huff.
“Keep talking like that and I’m going to change my mind after all.” You got to the bathroom door and turned around to shoot another teasing comment his way but stopped seeing him. The bed was a mess under him, but his body at rest looked so tempting and comfortable. You had to fight the urge to bite your lip when you saw his flaccid cock resting on his thigh. He raised an eyebrow and you turned away from him. “Maybe after next time.”
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