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madameminor · 10 months

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What's in a Name? - Rex x f!reader (Fives x f!reader)

Summary: Rex is finally about to confess his feelings, only to catch you with Fives. But your tryst with Fives leaves him, well, hopeful.

Tags/Warnings: 18+, minors no touchy. P in V sex, uh, minor jealousy? I'm not really sure what to warn about this one.

Notes: So, I had this fantasy, and couldn't shake it until I got it down on 'paper'. Is it entirely implausible and self-indulgent? Yes. But they aren't real anyway so LET ME HAVE MY FUN! Not tagging anyone other than my betas because it isn't part of my IMWTO series. Thanks betas! @kaminocasey @dumfanting

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Rex walks down the ship’s quiet durasteel halls, mind still reeling from his conversation.

“Thinking about your secretary again?” Cody’s jibe had interrupted his thoughts.

“N-no,” he lied. Of course he had been thinking about you. He was always thinking about you. He hurriedly took a bite to cover his guilt.

“Rex, you’ve got to talk to her,” Cody grinned over his finished plate in the officer’s mess. “This pining of yours is getting out of hand.”

Rex huffed, offended. “I am not pining.”

“Then what would you call it?”

“..........” He couldn’t keep eye contact, instead taking a final bite of his food.

Cody laughed again. “Go on, Captain, go talk to her. Now. Before I do it for you.”

Rex glared up at him. “You wouldn’t.”

Cody’s grin widened “Want to try me, vod?”

With that threat, Rex had practically thrown his dishes at Cody, hurrying out towards your room before he could change his mind.

He stops outside of your room and takes a deep breath, knocking firmly on your door. No response. He looks around him before knocking again, a little harder. Still nothing. He starts to sweat a bit, hearing Cody’s threat again.

“Go on, Captain, go talk to her. Now. Before I do it for you.”

Standing out here waiting for you would do him no favors - if anyone walked by, he’d feel stupid just standing there. He didn’t want to com you in case you thought you were in trouble. Maybe he could just - wait inside. You were sure to come back eventually. He’d been in your room before, he was sure you wouldn’t mind.

He enters in his override code and steps in.

He looks around your room, trying to think of the best place to situate himself. Probably… probably just at your desk. That would be fine. His heart starts to race, now that he was actually here, now that he didn’t have anything to do. He was losing his nerve, but Cody’s threat…

“…Before I do it for you.”

He takes a deep breath and heads into your bathroom, using the sink to splash cold water on his face. ‘Get a grip, Rex old boy, c’mon, you’ve got this-’.

He hears your door slide open and his gut clenches, preparing him for battle, preparing him to speak up and tell you how he-

“Heh, at least wait until I close the door, mesh’la.”

“Oh shutup and touch me, Fives.”

He hears Fives chuckle, the closing door, the sound of two bodies hitting bed.

Oh, fuck.

Were you two- did you bring Fives here to-

Fives’ voice pulls him back into his nightmare. “Bio-sheaths?”

Your voice is breathy, needy. “Top drawer.”

Rex pinches his nose, closing his eyes against the crippling jolt of forlorn realization. You and Fives. He feels his heart shatter into a million pieces, leaving a burning shame behind. He was so stupid. You had brought Fives back to your room, and were totally about to sleep with him. The millions of pieces shatter into a million more as the self-loathing races through him

Of course you’re with Fives. Of course. He always sees you two talking and laughing together. He should have known, should have put two and two together. He was such a di’kut. Fives was smooth enough, probably had no problem talking to you, telling you how he felt… and didn’t think to tell Rex due to his role as your supervisor…

He hears Fives grunt, followed by a chuckle. “Damn, mesh’la, you’re hungry for it. Need my cock that bad?”

DAMN this hurts. Rex closes his eyes again, trying not to hear your answer-

“Yes, Fives, please…”

This is worse than hell. Maybe he should just reveal himself quickly, before it gets too far -

Two simultaneous groans cut off that train of thought, the sound of Fives sliding in your slick making him sick to his stomach. Shit. He leans his head on the wall, gritting his teeth. Well at least it seems like it will be quick.

The steady rhythm of Fives claiming you seems to surround him.

“Kriff sakes, Fives, yes,” you moan, sending more pain through his chest. Just grit and bare it, they aren’t trying to hurt you, they’re just into each other, she just picked someone else.

Fives is panting, but there’s still a smile in his voice. “Think you’re forgetting something, mesh’la.”

You groan in protest. “Fives...please don’t make me, it's so embarrassing…”

A chuckle. “But you get so TIGHT when you say his name. C’mon, I know you like it, you know I like that you like it - go on, say it.”

“...Rex.”

Rex stiffens so quickly he almost drops his helmet. WHAT. did you just say?

“Rex… Rex…” you whimper, as clear as a bell. The billions of shattered pieces start tentatively flowing back together.

Fives groans. “Kriff, mesh’la, they way you squeeze me when you say that. Is this what you want him to do to you?”

Your moan - its sounds so needy. “Yes, yes, yes. Please, Captain, please don’t stop.”

He can’t be hearing this. There must be something wrong with his perception of reality because there is absolutely no way that in any universe this would be happening. You’re sleeping with one of his troopers and wishing it was him?

“That’s right baby - NNN - fuck i’m getting close, but I’ll hold on as long as I-” A pause. Rex almost stops breathing. What the kriff is happening?

“Hah, your throat, huh? You want him to hold you by the throat like this? Squeeze a little?”

You gasp, like something is lightly squeezing your windpipe, sending heat straight to his cock. You want him like THAT. You want him to FUCK you, to take you like you belong to him-

Fives’ breath is getting short. “Kriff, this is so hot, say his name again while I play with your pretty little clit. Get ready to cum for me, mesh’la.”

A crescendo of mounting moans spill from your throat. He can feel them ringing in his head, making him harder, almost bursting with how much he wants you-

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming Rex please don’t stop, please don’t stop. Fuck I want you to fill me up, PLEASE.”

KRIFF he wants that too.

“That’s right, baby, let go for me. FUCK.”

Rex hears Fives’ hips stutter, hears him groan his release, while your strangled cry announces yours. His reformed, hopeful heart is beating so loud he’s afraid you’ll both hear it in the sated silence that follows.

The sinful sound of Fives pulling out of you. He hears a bio-sheath removed, tied, tossed. That's right, you’d used protection. That boded well.

Panting, followed by a body on a bed.

He can hear Fives’ grin in his voice. “Better?”

You sigh in relief. “Yes.”

“You could just tell him.”

“Fives…” Its clear you’ve had this discussion before.

“What? Not that I’m unhappy with our hookups, mesh’la, but I think you’d be much happier if you just shoot your shot.”

“And have him reject me in front of the whole GAR, then have to see him every day? No thank you.”

“What makes you so sure that's what will happen?”

A frustrated sigh this time. “He doesn’t… there are things guys do when they want your attention. He doesn’t do any of those things.”

“Sure, maybe nat-borns do. We’re different, mesh’la. I think you give him a chance, he might surprise you.”

Rex was never giving Fives fresher duty again.

Well, not for awhile anyway.

“They do tell me I’m full of surprises.”

Rex finds himself leaning in the bathroom doorway, looking over to where you and Fives lay on your single bed.

You squeak, pulling covers over your nudity like he hadn’t just heard you fucking his vod. “Captain!”

Fives chuckles, still in full kit. So he’s fucked you with his armor on - that boded even better. “Was wondering who that was back there.”

You sputter in your shock, glaring at your bed fellow. “You knew someone was in my room, and you didn’t tell me???”

Fives grins sheepishly. “I mean, it was kind of exciting-”

His wrist com beeps. He glances at it before hopping up. “Welp, duty calls. Pretty sure that's the best timed com I’ve ever had.” He heads to the door with a cheeky grin and a wave over his shoulder. “Have fun!”

“FIVES! You kriffing dickhead-”

The door closes behind him, leaving you alone with Rex.

He lets the silence drag on, just watching you squirm under his gaze. He smirks inwardly.

“You… um… you heard… everything?”

He smirks outwardly.

You groan. “I’m SO sorry sir, I know thats so unprofessional, and I never wanted you to hear anything like that, I promise, I wouldn’t let it keep me from doing my job, and I -

Rex’s wrist com beeps, stopping you mid-babble. Without taking his eyes off of you, he answers it.

“Captain Rex here.”

“Rex, the generals are checking in, you’re needed on the bridge.” It’s Cody. “I’m about to com your secretary, unless you’re-”

“No need, she’s here with me,” he says, indicating your clothes with his chin. You scurry to get up and start to dress, face drawn, refusing to look at him- even as he’s still watching you. “We’ll be there shortly.”

“Did you talk to her?”

“About to.”

“Uh huh.”

You finish right as he ends the conversation, standing at attention, not meeting his eyes.

“Duty calls.”

You nod, still embarrassed, staring at the floor.

He walks to you, gently grasping you around your throat so you’re looking up at him. Your eyes round, widen, confused…

He kisses you slowly, softly, taking his time to feel your lips melt against his, to swallow your answering moan. He pulls back to revel in your heated surprise.

“We’ll continue this… ‘conversation’ later, mesh’la,” he whispers, “and I’ll show you what it's like to really scream my name, for me.”

He feels you shiver in his grasp, the desire in your eyes shooting straight to his cock.

“Y-Yes, sir. Whatever you say.”

"That's my good girl."

#captain rex fanfic #captain rex x reader #nsft #captain rex smut #tcw fives x reader #madame writes #completely self indulgent

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katsukiizmoon · 1 year

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╰┈➤ ꒰🍓🧋┊boba time ┊hold me tight

You like to pretend to be strong. You keep your shoulders pulled back, eyes forward. You repeat those words over and over again in your mind.

Eyes forward, darling.

Waves of sadness crash over your body despite this. No amount of angry looks, putting on makeup, doing your hair, fixes it. Even on your best days, you are still pretending.

You like to pretend to fit in.

Wide smiles and giggles. Brightly saying hello to everyone and offering aide to those in any need. Agreeing with what people say, laughing at jokes you don’t understand, keeping the conversation on what they enjoy.

But regardless, you do not. You don’t go out with anyone because they don’t give you enough notice. You’re scared, too. Social situations are not your strong suit. Even on the days you laugh loudly with a drink in hand, you are pretending.

You pretend to love yourself.

Hyping yourself up in front of everyone, wearing cute clothing, giving people advice. You repeat confident phrases like a mantra. Look at what I did, you say. I’m so proud of myself, you tell yourself. But even on the days your chest doesn’t ache with hatred, you are pretending.

No one bats an eye, notices, nor cares. People are people after all, the bystander effect. Why would they? Even your closest friends are far away. Your real opinions are unpopular. No one minds and you suppose neither do you.

Katsuki knows this. He noticed. He batted his eyes. He cares.

For him it’s plain, in big bold neon lettering. Time either moves too fast or too slow for your pretty eyes and body to catch up. Your eyes move faster than your body and your body trips over itself.

And god, it moves something within him. To see someone in a similar position to his own. Watching you rip yourself apart time and time again.

That’s how he finds himself in your room, fingers running over the little dresser. He chews his lip and grits his teeth, huffing. Chest heavy and shoulders tight.

You’re sitting on your bed, gawking. Eyes wide, mouth open—frozen.

“You can stop pretending.” Katsuki’s deep voice rattles in his chest.

You scowl, lips pulled back and eyes narrow.

“Fuck outta here. I’m not pretending. What’s you come here for, to mock me or some shit ?” You spit. Venom laces your every word.

“Fine. What’s your favorite animal?” He grits.

“Cat.” You quip, fingers digging into the plushie in your hands.

“Liar.” He bites, amused.

Katsuki looks at you, brow cocked, like it’s funny. He opens his hand and gestures loosely to your bedroom.

“Sharks. I can count at least five shark related items in this room by looking at any given area. Hell- the fuckin plushy you’re holding is a whale shark.” He muses.

He’s right. You know he’s right. Frustration— no, embarrassment rises and makes your skin burn and eyes sting.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Yeah yeah, you shut up. Somethins’ under your skin and I know it. So spill, sharkie.” Katsuki crosses his arms over his chest and looks down at you. Your eyes widen and narrow again before you turn away and fall into the bed completely.

“Get out, asshole.” You mumble, beginning to retreat into the safety of your blankets and pillows.

“God you’re so fuckin annoying.” He groans, smacking a palm to his face. You can’t see it but heard it clear as day.

You stay silent, maybe if you pretend he’s gone he will be.

Pretending always works.

Katsuki kicks his house slippers off and presses a button on your humble TV. He stretches his arms over his head and grabs the tiny remote. When taking in your surroundings, he noticed an aquarium night light. He flicks it on and turns off the light, heading over to your bed.

It creaks under his weight, as it isn’t memory foam like his. You still try to pretend he isn’t there until he speaks again.

“Alright, my little pony or totally spies?” The blonde inquires, softer than before, and with a sigh.

Your mumble is hardly audible.

“Got it.”

Katsuki moves back and waits for you to stop sulking. Eventually you give in and he’s against the wall side of your bed. You don’t speak and he tells you not to run your mouth to others about this. You nod.

His body is warm against your own. It takes him a while to get you to warm up, to relax. You start off rigid like you are in public. It only takes two episodes for you to sink into his chest a little.

Thick fingers work their way through your hair, scratching lightly at the scalp. He doesn’t mention that it needs to be washed again, though he will in the morning.

Eventually, he looks in the mini fridge and grabs what seems to be a sippy cup of chocolate milk. He hands it over and gets back into the bed.

A few more episodes pass and you’re blinking slowly. Eyes fixated on the show, trying not to get embarrassed that he’s in your bed holding you. His arm has moved to lay over your waist and secure you against his chest.

“Are you ready to talk now?” Katsuki breathes, chin resting on top of your head.

“M just depressed, I dunno though. Just- yeah.” You get out and a weight is lifted off of your chest. Tears threaten to sting your eyes and you grit your teeth and spit at the thought.

“Are you okay, though?” His arm tightens around you and he breathes deep into his chest. His shoulders drop.

Your chest rattles and your eyes water. The dam breaks, tears spilling over the bridge of your eyes.

“So no, got it.” Katsuki rumbles, and you spend time like that. He holds you tighter.

Laying silently as he coos and calms you. Your eyes are swollen by the end of the night and you fall asleep like that.

It’s out of character for him to be this affectionate, you think.

That starts a trend with the two of you. Weekly visits in your room or his, curled up sharing what’s bothering you both. This goes on for months on end, secretly. No one knows about your meetings or even that you’re closer than basic friends.

It morphs over time into more affectionate holds. More forehead kisses and hugs. More intimacy. His guard comes down over time, allowing you to understand him more. His hands linger a little more sometimes. He doesn’t want to leave in the morning, sometimes.

Katsuki doesn’t tell you that the reason he came over in the first place was out of worry. He’d noticed you fidgeting, scratching, zoning out. Sometimes you looked like you were moving more slowly. No one else noticed.

You pretend you don’t like him.

You smack his arm and call him an asshole. Tell him you hate him in public, complain to your friends about him. But even on days you swear you can’t stand him and stomp to your room to sulk, you are still pretending.

You pretend that you aren’t getting hot and bothered when he touches you.

You never mention it, staying relaxed and against his chest. Eyes fixated on the screen and not on the feeling of his hand on your hip. Even on days when you fall asleep against his chest without speaking a word, you are still pretending.

It comes as no surprise when he calls you annoying again, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. Yet it somehow still scares you a little when he asks what’s bothering you.

“I- I like you? Love you?” It comes out small, from your throat, raspy. He wouldn’t hear it if he wasn’t so close. Embarrassment is crawling up your neck and you push down the urge to cry.

Telling him makes your heart beat through the cage of your chest. He sighs, breathing into the crook of your neck. That’s when he places a kiss to the edge of your jaw.

“You don’t have to pretend, it’s okay. Me too.” He whispers.

Silence is loud, wrapping the two of you in something a little less than comfortable. You’re happy, confused, terrified. Pretending has always been easier. To everyone else, at least. But you think this time not pretending might just be better.

“Okay, hold me tight?”

His arm tightens around you and the familiar tune of your favorite cartoon rings through your ears.

#completely self indulgent #i have been sad lately #boba time #strawberry cake #sadness #depression warning #also neurodivergent tendencies lol #peaches writes #bakugo x reader #bakugo hurt comfort #katsuki bakugo x reader

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murdrdocs · 1 year

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im just thinking abt domestic!jj ...

i think that a domestic life might not be what jj was looking for in the first place, but whenever he started to spend more time with you and saw how slow and easy you took it, he couldn’t help but melt into your embrace like butter in a pan. he spends more time at your place until he’s basically living there, and he doesn’t wanna feel like a leech so he starts to pull his own weight around the place.

learning how to properly cook and clean, getting better and better at organization until all of your combined items live in a semi-perfect harmony. you take turn doing the laundry, and as soon as he forgets one time, he’s immediately apologizing. “i’m so, so sorry, babe. i could’ve sworn we did the laundry like a few days ago and i know it was my turn but i’ll make it up to you, okay?”

and he does. always.

if the rest of the pogues are hanging at yours, for dinner or something, it’s peak domesticity and jj is the happiest in that setting. surrounded by his family, in a safe home, clean and wearing clothes that smells like you, eating a meal that both of you cooked.

which is why i fully think he’s ready to pop a metaphorical ring on your finger ... years down the line, of course. but even in the beginning of your relationship, whenever things started to feel safe and secure, he started talking about giving you his last name, or hyphenating (”i would sound good with your last name, right?). if you want kids, he’s down! like so so down!

he either wants 3 or 5, no in between. at first, he’s always talking to you about how he’s always wanted a boy, but you can see that fear in his eyes when he does (you assume its because he doesn’t want to mess his son up like his dad did with him, but you don’t bring it up). but he is an absolute girl dad. one hundred percent.

wants his kids put into sports, as many as possible, no matter how expensive. gymnastics, figure skating, ice dancing, baseball, basketball, football, soccer, cheerleading. “we could have the whole team in our house”

the lazy sunday mornings !! once jj acclimates to an easy life, he completely thrives in it.

(but of course he needs to wreck a little havoc and cause some trouble every now and then. you two meet in the middle)

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #completely self indulgent #jjsworld!#celeste writes obx

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beeandheroddobsessions · 1 year

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Inappropriate

Pairing: Elvis x f!reader

Summary: Elvis teaches you a thing or two

Warings: MDNI!! SMUT!! Not a plot in sight fr. Oral (m.recieving). Spanking. Mean!Elvis. Manipulation. Coercion(?) Iressponsible parents fr Elvis is kind of a creep. Innocence kink?

A/N: The shit, in-fact, did not fit. I’m not as upset because i had a good stopping point. Anywho, I’m testing the waters with my smut writings but real talk, i kinda like this one. Let me hush though, Happy reading! - Bee 💕

Trembling. You were trembling.

Sex was a taboo in your world, even at eighteen. Asking about such “an egregious thing for a young lady” would garner harsh looks and curt responses. But you're a growing girl; curiosity couldn’t stay at bay forever. You’d pester about the things you’d hear around the schoolyard in an attempt to ‘keep up’ with your peers, yet those burning questions would garner the same response, “That’s not an appropriate question for you to be askin’.”

After no luck at home and barley any innvitation into a conversation at school, you let the question die off in the cold. Being left in the dark about the act led to you forgetting about it all together.

So how you ended up underneath this handsome devil is a mystery. Well, not entirely; He found you in a tailor shop, picking up a dress that needed hemming. His eyes raked over your form, deciding he’d have you before even knowing your name. You kept your head down while walking, meek and quiet. He liked how you stumbled over your words and apologized for every move you made. He liked that you were timid.

What he really liked was the way your face flustered when the clerk threw a less than tasteful remark your way. Innocence was practically oozing out of the pores on your pretty face, and he intended to drain it dry. The man couldn’t help himself, his conviction didn’t concern him. Shamelessly, he stepped in line with the door as you made your way to the exit. The thud of your body into his made him shiver.

The profuse apologies escaping those soft lips of yours made his pants tighten. He thought of how you’d sound in his bed, wondering if you’d whimper and plead with him. Elvis let you rattle on for a bit, busy studying, looking for something to draw you in. Your hair, or rather the tiny pin holding the style together gave it away.

A music note? Oh, he had it in the bag for sure. The brunett stopped you and introduced himself As if he hadn’t had eyes on you from the start. When you spoke your name, fate was sealed. He gave you a smirk, asking what type of music you liked. Blues was your answer. Hearing this had Elvis wondering what he did to get so lucky. He could work with the blues. An invite for a private performance was all it took.

One thing led to another, and you find yourself wedged between the soft bed and a charming adonis. Though his body hovers over yours, clothes have yet to be shared, a kiss yet to be shed. The intimacy of this scenario would be awkward had it been with anyone else. You’re nervous, and he knows it. How his eyes wander over your features with a knowing look makes you hot—burning with desire. Elvis hasn’t made a move past this; even so, you feel a warmth pool in your belly.

Is this normal? Is this a good thing? Why can’t you look away? The questions you have, accompanied by the position, are overwhelming.

Elvis can see the panic in those big doe eyes and decides to have a little fun.“what’s the matter, honey? Never been up close n’ personal with a man before?”

You can’t lie to save your life, so the shame of inexperience looms over your head. Retreating into yourself and avoiding the inquiry all together seems like the saftest option. Brining your hands to your face as if they’d save you makes Elvis chuckle.

“Oh now, none of that. I asked you a question, little one. I expect an answer.” He says, while removing the makeshift barrier. You open your mouth to speak, hoping that if you oblige, he’ll let up. Before a sound is made, Elvis lowers his head to the crook of your neck. Breath fanning against your skin, raising goosebumps over your body. A small gasp is all you can manage.

The handsome devil squeezes your waist, grip firm as he peppers kisses down your neck and chest, lanidng just above your clevage.

“What’d I say? Hm, sweet baby? Give me an answer.” He demands, peering up to find your gaze.

Ohh this…this was intense. Should there be a pulse down there? You have no clue. What you do know is that you aren’t about to look this man in the eye if you don't have to. His effect on your body is something you can’t explain, even if you wanted to. The hand on your waist travels to your thigh. Dangerously close to the hem of your dangerously short dress. His expression is calm, but the words that leave his mouth are serious.

“Honeybee, m’not gon ask ya again. Ya ignore me one more time, m’gon bend you over my knee.”

Though curious to discover what he means, the fear of being unprepared for something like that has you scrambling for an answer. You don’t even remember the question? ‘Have you ever’…what the hell was it? Panic sets in as you realize he’d distracted you on purpose.

The silence is enough for Elvis to start moving. You blink and are suddenly hoisted off of the bed that offered you some sense of security. Elvis is amused, eager to see how you’d handle this. He slides to the edge of the bed, planting his feet and, just as promised, bends you over his knee. He feels your breasts flush against his lap and shudders. This was going to be fun.

“you can count can’t ya?” He asks, eyebrow raised.

You can’t do much but nod, hoping he isn’t serious about this. The sting against your ass proves you wrong; a yelp escapes your throat. Remembering his initial demand, you sputter out the number as best you can.

“O-one”

Elvis tsks at you, taunting further. His hand soothes the burn as he shakes his head. “No, no, baby. That one don’t count. I told ya when I ask a question, ya answer it. Startin to think there ain’t much up in that pretty little head of yours.”

You can practically feel the smug look on his face. “M’sorry Elvis-” THWACK.

That one hurt worse than the first. He’s got you right where he wants you. Unsure of what to do, looking to him for guidence. It shakes him up real good, seeing you plead for help with your eyes; truly a thrilling experience for him. he likes playing with your psyche. Should you count to two? Or was that the new number oned? You were helpless.

His cool rings matched with the breeze rolling over your now warm backside leaves you in a spiral, adding to the already intese wave of desire. He is the escense of perfection right now. Something primal has you dripping, wanting more.

Much like any other time you feel this way, mother’s words float through your head. Inappropriate. To crave more of whatever this was, to feel this way. It was a sin. Urges were a temtation, same as the man who has you hunched over.

If your mother could see you now, “Unladylike,” she’d say. “Whorish,” your father would sneer. the guilt was beginning set in. You couldn’t do this. what would everyone think? If she found out, mama wuld surley tell the entire congregation of your sin. Daddy would surley disown you for even looking at a man like this. little by little, the lust you’re feeling starts to disapate.

Another delicious sting pulls you from the confines of your mind. Slick begins to leak through the white lace adorning your lower half. “Ya like this. Dontcha, baby? Like havin’ me discipline ya? Teachin’ ya some manners?”

You try to resist his accusation, shaking your head as if you hadn’t already been caught.

“No? Ya don’t like it?” He presses further, smirk everlasting as he continues to caress your ass. “No, I—um, I d-dont.” You sputter, attempting to sound as convincing as possible. Elvis nods but doesn’t say much “Mm, mhm.”

Without warning, he runs two fingers over your panties, stopping right above that little bundle of nerves, doing nothing more than adding a little pressure.

The moan that escapes you teeters on pornographic. Never in your eighteen years on this earth have you made a sound like that. You have one thought bouncing around. Inappropriate, my ass; this is magic.

Just as quickly as he gave you a taste of bliss, he rips it away. You keen and wiggle your hips, needing a sliver of friction. Elvis is tickled pink; his laughs do nothing to quell the fire he’s lit.

“See honey, ya do like it. S’okay, mama, I’ll break ya in real nice.” With that, he sits you up and admires his work. Pride swells in his chest as he takes it all in. Your begging eyes, reddened face, slick thighs, twiddling thumbs, it’s got him hot, real hot. you feel small under his stare. He flashes a crooked smile and spreads his legs a bit. “Ya wanna meet little Elvis, honey? Ya might wanna get to know him before we start havin’ fun.”

Your response flies out of your mouth before you can even think “Like…Like sex?”

Elvis nods his head, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And it might’ve been, for any other soul, but not for y/n.

Still, you take this as an opportunity to find out what you’re working with; your eyes shift to his pants. Again, fear washes over your body, ‘little,’ he says.

“Elvis, I don’t think-” you choke on your words, feeling like the room is spinning. Guilt nips at you again, but you're a big girl now. He looks at you expectantly, waiting for the second half of that sentence.

“i—yes, I do. I’m—M’jus scared. Ain’t never seen a man before.”

When he hears ‘scared,’ Elvis’s features soften, and he sits up, fumbling over his words, same as you, “Honey, I ain’t gon hurt ya if that’s what your thinkin’, I know—I k-know I jus’ t-tanned ya up bu-but I wasn’t a-actually hurtin’ ya was I? If I d-did m’sor-”

You giggle at his change in demeanour and shake your head. “No, Elvis it ain’t that. Jus.. well my mama says that what we’re fixin’ to do ain’t appropriate. says it ain’t ladylike. This is what whores-”

Elvis is quick to shut you up with a hungry kiss. It’s far from graceful, teeth clashing, tounges fumbling, but it’s enough to shoo away the last bit of doubt. When you pull back for air, he begins to reassure you.

“You ain’t gon be a whore for nobody but me. Alright? Put that pile of horseshit outta your mind.” You nod your head, and he mimics you.

With that out of the way, Elvis starts to undo his belt. You’re on the edge of your seat; this would be the first time you’d ever seen a man in his most natural state. It’s riveting. He shimmies out of his trousers, letting them pool around his ankles before kicking them off completely. You’re shocked to find he isn’t wearing underwear.

His cock slaps against his stomach, earning a mewl from you. There was no doubt that Elvis was blessed; the print in those pants left little to the imaginatiou, but the display before you is mouthwatering. He’s Uncut, thick, veins that run along the lenght, an angry red tip, with balls heavy, and ready to spill. There’s hair, but it’s neatly kept.

Elvis lazily strokes himself, watching you burn the image into your memory. You didn’t think this is what it would be like. Schoolyard talk had you stuck with the image of a worm between every mans legs.

“Can…can I touch it?” you ask, wanting to explore this new territory. Elvis gives you a cheeky grin and nods, taking your hand in his, replacing it with his own. He lets out a groan when your fingers wrap around him. He’s heavy in your hands, never mind how he’d feel inside you. Elvis begins to guide you, growing more impatient by the second. “Move your hand jus like that, baby.”

You do as told, afraid of making any moves without help. Elvis’s hands glide down your spine as he watches you, concentration never breaking. “Go on and wrap your pretty lips round the tip, like ya would a sucker. No teeth though, darlin’.”

Hesitantly, you lean down. Uncertain of what to expect, your tongue swipes over the small hole, testing the waters. Elvis takes a sharp breath; scared to have done something wrong, you quickly pull away.

“I—m’sorry, I jus-”

Elvis pulls you into him, giving you a gentle kiss. “Felt good, mama. Real good. Keep goin’,” he reassures, wanting nothing more than your mouth on his aching cock. With a nod, you resume your ministrations. You swirl your tongue around his tip before wrapping around him entirely. The taste of pre-cum sends your eyes to the back of your head.

“That’s a good girl, I knew ya knew how to listen.”

Too focused on the task at hand, the teasing goes unnoticed. How much of him could you take? Elvis is taken by surprise when you attempt to find out. His head lulls back. Hands tangle in your tresses as you gag around him. “Fuck, honey. Ya learn quick.”

On your way back up, Elvis tightens his grip on your hair, sending you back down. “Stay right there, babydoll. G-Goddamnit, that’s a good girl!”

Looking up through your lashes, you find him with lips parted, eyes closed, and chest beginning to rise and fall a little faster. The sight makes you shift to create a bit of friction. As he holds you in that same spot, air becomes scarce. Tears well in your eyes; you tap his thigh, hoping he’ll give you a breather. Elvis’s eyes open, and his features set in a pout.

“Ya need air, baby?” He asks, seeming genuine.

Nodding frantically, you move to pull off, but he keeps you locked in place. “Then breath through your nose. Gotta be able to suck me good n’ proper. Can’t do that if youre runnin’ for air all the time.”

Realizing he’s serious, you have no choice but to redirect your breathing. When you finally get the hang of it, Elvis wastes no time moving. Your head bobbing just wasn’t enough, his hips buck up, speed increasing as he focuses on his release. The sound of you choking only spurs the musician on further. Obsceneites leave his mouth with little shame.

“Come on honey, shit, I know ya got it in ya.”

“Feels so damn good, princess.”

“Gonna taste me for days, sweetheart.”

You whine around his cock, sending a pleasant shock through his body. Pants and grunts escape the star above you, leaving your underwear far past the point of no return. Elvis can’t help but use you to chase his high. Having someone so innocent, so malleable, so willing, sends him careening toward that ledge much quicker than he had intended.

His core tightens, and his thrusts lose their rhythmic pace. Elvis is more than vocal as he abuses your poor throat. His thighs clench, and his toes curl; he’s so close. Bliss brings him to the moon, the only word leaving his mouth is your name. Wondering what the effect would be, you graze your fingertips over his balls. That does it. With a yelp, Elvis stills and spills down your throat, the option to spit taken away.

He pulls you off with a ‘pop.’ He sees a fucking mess. Your hair’s disheveled, drool is everywhere, mascara cascading down your cheeks. You do indeed look like a whore, and Elvis loves every second of it. He pulls you onto his lap, arms snaking around your waist.

“Your mama’s a goddamn liar. That was the most ladylike thing I’ve ever seen. Now, s’time for me to show ya how a man takes care of his lady.”

Taglist: @powerofelvis @prayerstopresley

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gayroman · 2 years

Photo

You know how they say you only hurt the ones you love? Well, it works both ways.

FIGHT CLUB DIRECTED BY DAVID FINCHER / WRITTEN BY CHUCK PALAHNIUK

untitled (you construct intricate rituals), barbara kruger / false god, taylor swift / fight club dir. david fincher / chanel, frank ocean / do me a favour, arctic monkeys / planet of love, richard siken / safet zec, 1943 | allegories of fate / paper bag, fiona apple / wishbone, richard siken / breaking bad / the goldfinch, donna tartt / the great gatsby, f scott fitzgerald / mikey and nicky dir. elaine may / the goldfinch, donna tartt / hannibal / slaughterhouse, richard siken / interview with a vampire dir. neil jordan / teddy picker, arctic monkeys / death of silence, or jean-louis trintignant, angela dufrense

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pbpsbff · 18 days

Note

I just caught up with R&R and I love it so much.

I would love to eventually see a work in this au where tough guy Peter has a childish moment. Maybe he gets sick or injured- or he simply has A Moment ™️ and just... breaks down and acts his age for a night.

But wherever you do is awesome. 🩷🩷

!!!! glad you're enjoying :)

i have considered something like that!!! i've been playing with the idea of peter getting shot (far down the line, i promise) just because i think the pain would be what gets him to drop the i'm not 3 seconds from losing my shit act since like. getting sick is a normal thing??? i guess it would be worse because they don't have constant access to modern medicine tho. hmmmmm

also tony already has his own dedicated sickfic (i say as if it wasn't centered on the other 2) so it might be a while before i take that path again

thank you for your support!! expect more very soon :)

#by playing with the idea #i mean i have written about 400 words of it #completely self indulgent #and waiting to be edited down to something postable #LOL #thanks anon lets kiss #r&r tease

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quirkypossum · 5 months

Text

i just decided all my star wars fics are in an au where the clones fast aging thing is tied to the inhibitor chips and stops when the chip is damaged or removed

#completely self indulgent #i want my clones to grow old with their friends and family #it also doesnt screwup the decline of the clone army after order66 it is isolated to the few that removed their chips and survivedeverything #star wars #the bad batch #the clone wars #star wars cw #star wars tbb #fanfic #writing #headcanon #au #the possums fanfics #the possum speaks

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maerinhearts · 1 year

Text

Apprehensive

It's your three month anniversary with Kirishima Tooru, the man of your dreams. Nothing beats spending quality time together...

Warnings: fem!bodied reader, mentions of previous bad sexual encounters (it doesn't go into detail), slight choking (like once), creampie, overstimulation

Word Count: 7,800+

Smut is below the cut.

MDNI pleaseeee, for the love of everything good on this earth.

A/N: I'm proud of the plot on this one, not too proud of the smut, so please be nice :')

There might be actual hearts in your eyes as the waitress sets your plate of food down in front of you. As if on cue, your stomach growls. You had been waiting for this meal all week. Not just because of the fancy restaurant you were in and the delicious food you were about to scarf down, but because of the man currently sat across the table from you. You glance up to look at him but find that the waitress is now setting his food down in front of him, leaning over a little too far, low cut shirt doing the bare minimum to hide the swell of her breasts from the entire restaurants gaze.

You feel your eye twitch at that, suddenly feeling possessive. When she asks if you guys need anything else, she directs the question at him, as if you weren’t even there. This happened quite often on dates with him. You found the waitresses would unabashedly flirt with him in front of you, it never bothered you before. You know your boyfriend is hot, but for some reason this waitress was getting under your skin. Perhaps it was because even you could tell she was beautiful, anyone with eyes could see that.

“Sweetheart?” he calls out, covering your hand with his on the table. “Did you need anything else from the waitress?”

Your eyes move from his hand on yours to the waitress who was sneering down at you. You knew this was his way of subtly putting her in her place. After all, he would never purposefully hurt a woman. If you were being honest with yourself, you wished he would go off on her and not hold back.

Pushing the feeling aside, you force the sweetest smile you can muster up for her. “No, thank you. I’m okay for now,” you answer and with a roll of her eyes, she leaves your table.

You let out a small sigh as his hand leaves yours and pick up your utensils to dig into your meal, finally. You grumble to yourself as you stir your food around to pick up your first bite, annoyed at the waitress for hitting on your boyfriend and annoyed at your boyfriend for not telling said waitress off.

“Are you alright?”

You glare at your boyfriend across the table and shove a spoonful of food into your mouth.

“No,” you say around your mouthful of food. You swallow. “Why do you have to be so hot?”

He bursts out laughing at you, covering his mouth with his elbow so he doesn’t disturb the whole restaurant. Your glare deepens as you continue eating and he continues laughing.

“Where did that come from?” he finally asks you, still slightly laughing. His face is dusted with a pretty pink blush, obviously affected by your strange way of complimenting him.

You set your silverware down with a huff. “Every restaurant we go to, the waitresses and hostesses are always throwing themselves at you. It’s annoying.”

He quirks an eyebrow up at this. “Well, I’m only interested in you,” he states matter-of-factly.

You feel your face heat up and you snatch your silverware back off the table. “I know,” you grumble before taking another bite of your food.

The both of you continue eating, conversation flowing between you naturally. You found your cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so much, but you were happy to be here and celebrating your three-month anniversary with him.

“I was thinking we could watch a movie on my couch after dinner?” you suggest as the both of you finish up your meals.

“I can think of doing something better after dinner,” he offers, not looking at you, eyes trained on his meal as he picks up another bite of his food.

You glance up at him, puzzled yet intrigued on what he thinks could be better than cuddling on the couch and spending time together. “What’s that?” you ask, frowning.

“You.” He’s making direct eye contact with you now.

Your eyes widen, surprised, and you avert your gaze, face heating up at his comment. You grumble to yourself as you take another bite of food. When you steal a glance up at him again, he has an eyebrow raised, waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” you mumble, mainly to yourself. You wanted to be with him, in every way possible. He was being incredibly patient with you as well. Here you were, at your three-month anniversary dinner. It was the longest any man had stuck around in almost five years. You were thankful for him.

“I’ve got all the time in the world for you,” he replies sincerely, voice soft.

You’re too anxious to look up at him, so you keep your gaze down, butterflies erupting in your abdomen at his admission. “Good,” you say lightheartedly, cutting into your entrée again, “because we might be elderly by the time we do it.”

Tooru chuckles at that, shaking his head before going back to his meal.

When you finish eating, you set your utensils on the empty plate and push it to the center of the table. It’s silent for a second as Tooru finishes up his meal as well.

“You know,” you start as you pull your phone out of your bag to check the time. “No guy has ever made me cum during sex before.”

Across from you, he begins choking on his last bite of food, coughing to try to dislodge whatever got stuck in his throat. The topic was still on intimacy, right? What you said wasn’t too far off what the conversation was about, was it? Also, isn’t it normal for a girl to not cum? To not really enjoy it?

You feel your face heat up in embarrassment as Tooru pounds his chest with his fist before chugging his water. He covers his face with one hand as you pull your phone up to cover your own face, body sliding down in your chair to shield yourself.

He couldn’t stop the smile that was threatening the corners of his mouth. It was like you had dumped gasoline on a small flame within him, the flame that desires only you. He could feel his body heating up. He could feel his competitive nature begin to rise. He was holding back on intimacy for your sake. You had confided in him about some past sexual encounters, so he vowed to take things as slow as you wanted. It killed him. He wanted to touch you so bad. He began leaving lingering touches, lingering kisses. Fingertips pressing into your waist a second longer than usual. Lips hovering over yours after a quick kiss. Hands holding your delicate face long enough to commit every single one of your features to his memory.

And now, after you said such a daring thing in a restaurant full of people, he couldn’t wait to get you underneath him, to make you cum as many times as your body could handle.

He slowly lowers his hand to his lap, fisting the fabric of his slacks in both hands to keep himself from dragging you right out of this restaurant without paying.

You peak around your phone at him to find him staring at you with a heated gaze, eyes alight behind his glasses. You sit up in your seat again, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the table as you quirk an eyebrow at him.

“What-”

Before you can finish, his hand darts across the table to grab your chin and pull you closer to him. One of your hands wraps around his wrist as the other tries to find purchase on the table. He leans close, lips a breath away from yours.

“I’ll make you cum until you can’t anymore,” he promises, voice soft and husky. You gulp as his words head straight to your core and you clench your thighs together. Never before had he been so bold with you. His touches were always gentle, always fleeting. But this…

His fingers loosen from around your chin and move to caress your cheek before he presses a soft kiss against your mouth. You’re too shocked to react and kiss him back, frozen in your seat wondering why the hell that was so hot.

Like she was put on this Earth to interrupt you, the waitress comes by to ask Tooru how things are going. He sweetly asks for the check and, before you know it, he is pulling you from the booth and holding your coat out for you to put on. You’re like a robot on autopilot as you shove your arms into the coat, and he fixes it on your shoulders.

You don’t remember the last time a man had turned you on that easily, that quickly or that much. If you had to guess, never, probably. You had gotten turned on before while kissing him, body and mind so incredibly touch starved that it just felt good to have his hands on you in any type of way. In fact, the last time the two of you were making out, he had to pull himself away and off of you. You had rolled your hips up against his, eager for more friction, but the way your body trembled beneath him had him on edge. He had parked himself on the edge of your bed facing away from you, shaking hands fisted into the fabric of his pants as he took deep breaths.

You had wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind him, placing your chin in the crook of his neck. You waited until he explained to you that if you were still shaking that much, it meant you weren’t ready. He couldn’t do that to you even if you had asked and, funny enough, you were about to ask. You remember feeling relieved when he left that night. Relieved that he had pulled himself away because, in reality, you really weren’t ready.

And you had avoided him like the plague after that. Coming up with excuses to not see him because you were so embarrassed. Lucky for him, he caught on to what was going on pretty quickly and, after two weeks of avoiding him, he came by on a day he knew you were off work and knocked on the door. Unannounced. You opened the door without hesitation, expecting your best friend to be on the other side, ready to lecture you for avoiding Tooru… Again.

“For the last time, Yuki,” you began yelling as you turned the doorknob, “Kirishima probably doesn’t want to see me-” Your sentence had come to a full stop at the sight of who was actually on the other side of the door. “Anyway…” you finish, voice soft.

His look of pure annoyance was enough to make anyone run for the hills, and you had tried to make yourself look as small as possible under his gaze. After all, he was the Demon of the Sakuragi Family.

“Don’t put words into my mouth, Y/N,” he said through gritted teeth.

You had averted your gaze as tears welled up in your eyes. And just as you were about to fall to your knees in front of him to beg him not to leave you, he caught your body in his arms and crushed you to his chest. That’s when you knew that he was different.

“And it’s Tooru to you,” he had told you softly before he tightened his arms around you.

The memory of that night fades as you feel warmth on your thigh. You turn your gaze from the passing scenery outside the car window to the hand that was laying palm up on your thigh. You glance up at Tooru whose gaze was still on the road. When you look down, he wiggles his nimble fingers at you wordlessly. Understanding what he wants, you place your hand in his, threading your fingers together with a small smile. He holds you tightly, bringing your hand up to kiss the back.

“Go on in without me,” Tooru says as you get out of the car at your apartment. He pulls his cigarettes from his pocket, taking one and putting the cancer stick between his lips. He goes to light it but stops when he notices you glaring at him. “What?” The cigarette bounces between his lips at the word.

“When are you going to stop smoking?” you ask him, glare deepening. “It’s bad for you, you know.” You cross your arms at him.

He sighs, slipping his lighter back into his pocket and taking the cigarette from his mouth between his index finger and thumb, still unlit. He steps closer to you, and you just tilt your head back to maintain eye contact with him, still glaring. With his free hand, he tilts your chin back more with his index finger, eyes darting all around your face. With his thumb, he traces your bottom lip delicately. You can feel your glare falter as he leans down, warm breath fanning over your face.

“If I got to see your pretty face every day, it would be easy to quit,” he murmurs, voice hanging between the two of you in the cold air. He kisses your forehead. “But I don’t,” he says playfully as he steps back, pulling his lighter back out from his pocket. “So, I smoke because I have to deal with a bunch of meatheads every day.” He lights the cigarette, inhaling the tobacco and blowing it out to his side, away from you. “Not to mention, my partner is a knucklehead.” He taps the butt of the cigarette and ashes fall to the ground.

You glare at him again. “Don’t talk about Sugihara like that, Tooru,” you scold.

“It’s true!” he argues as he blows out another puff of smoke.

“Sugihara is an angel,” you tell him. “He does everything you tell him to without complaining! You don’t even have to do any of the leg work when you guys patrol together!”

He raises an eyebrow at you as he pulls another drag from his cigarette, turning to blow it to his side again. “Oh?” he starts before he takes the last drag of the stick and throws it to the ground, stepping on it to put it out as he steps closer to you again. “If he’s such an angel-” He comes toe to toe with you, hand coming up to squish your cheeks together, lips pushing out. “-why don’t you date him instead, hmm?”

You glare up at him, hand coming up to wrap around his wrist, the other fisting into the front of his exposed shirt. “I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it,” you tell him around your squished face.

He grins wickedly. “Then who do you want to be with, pretty girl?” he murmurs, voice thick. “Go on, tell me who you want.”

Your breath catches in your throat as heat pools in the pit of your stomach again, butterflies racing through your chest. What was with you today? Why did he have this much of an effect on you?

He releases your face, hand skimming along your skin as it finds it’s place on the back of your neck, thumb firmly pressed on the underside of your jaw. You fist both hands into the front of his shirt now, unconsciously pulling him flush against you, lips a heartbeat away from each other. So close that your next words are spoken into his mouth.

“You,” you breathe. “I want you.”

“That’s my girl,” he whispers, lips brushing against yours at the action before he firmly presses his mouth into yours.

You swallow a groan as his free arm finds its way into your open jacket and around your waist, pressing you tighter against him. His tongue glides across your bottom lip, but instead of you opening your mouth to him, you press your lips together and giggle as he pulls back to look at you with an annoyed face.

He lifts his head away from you, falling back to look at the sky before he sighs and presses his lips against your forehead. “Let’s go inside,” he says, grabbing your shoulders and turning you around towards the door. “It’s cold.”

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles up in your chest as he pushes you into your apartment, grumbling to himself as he takes his shoes off by the door before he helps you take your coat off and hangs it in your closet. You pad through your apartment to the kitchen as Tooru hangs his coat up next to yours. It was the weekend, at least, so he planned on staying over at your place tonight. It isn’t the first time he is staying with you, but the electricity in the air as he breezes past you to your bathroom is new.

It sends a chill up your spine and you grip the bottle of wine you pulled from your fridge a little harder, turning to look at the empty space he left when he walked past you. You take a deep breath to ground yourself before reaching for the wine glasses you bought especially for this occasion. You surprise yourself by finding that your hands are steady, and you silently celebrate as you pour the wine, a smile stuck on your face. You had been mentally preparing for this dinner. He had planned the dinner himself for your anniversary, but the week leading up to this, you prepared yourself to finally take the leap. To finally be his in every way possible. To finally let him have you.

His words from before haunted you: “If you’re still shaking this much, you aren’t ready.” It never dawned on you before that your shaking was your anxiety surrounding being intimate. Sure, you were anxious about what might happen tonight, but the excitement you felt outweighed the anxiety. You were ready.

“Hmm? What are you smiling about?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at Tooru’s voice, surprised to find him standing in front of you with an eyebrow raised, glasses gone.

“N-nothing,” you mumble, turning your face away as it heats up and taking a drink of your wine.

“Is this for me?” he asks as he picks up the other glass of wine you prepared.

“Yes,” you reply. “I picked it out especially for tonight.” You turn back to face him, giddy to see what he thought of your favorite wine.

Considering Tooru wasn’t much of a wine drinker (he was more of a liquor guy), you were excited to see his reaction. He swirls the liquid around in the glass, something he had seen people do in movies, before he peers over the top of the glass to look at its crimson contents. He frowns before bringing the glass up and smelling it.

You knit your eyebrows together as you feel your eye twitch. Leave it to Tooru to check out every aspect of the wine before even attempting to touch the glass to his mouth. As if to annoy you even more, he pulls the glass away from his face and grabs up the bottle.

“Let’s see what this flavor is…” he murmurs as he regards the bottle in his hand. “Ah, a sweet red wine?”

You’re glaring at him now in between sips from your own glass. You’re about to kick him in the shins when he finally sets the bottle down and brings the brim to his lips.

You find yourself leaning forward in anticipation. He takes some of the wine into his mouth, swishing its contents around with a thoughtful, but pleased look. Then he swallows. And as the wine makes its way down his esophagus, he grimaces.

“Dry,” he states and sets the glass back onto the counter.

You hang your head in annoyance, not wanting him to see how his reaction affected you. But then your face is being tilted up and his lips are on yours in an instant. You gasp in surprise and his tongue delves into your open mouth. He swipes his tongue across yours quickly before pulling back and licking his lips.

“Tastes sweet on you,” he decides.

You’re too stunned to react as Tooru turns on his heel and flops onto your couch just ten feet away. Butterflies erupt across your chest again as you feel heat pool into your underwear. You quickly turn to face the counter and down the rest of your glass in one drink as your face heats up. Seriously, what is up with these reactions of yours tonight? It can’t be just you that is getting turned on by the dumbest things… right? You look over your shoulder to look at the man that is currently manspreading in your space.

Even that was hot!

You quickly turn back around to take a couple deep breaths.

“What did you want to watch?” he calls out to you.

You turn back around to face him. “Whatever you want,” you reply. “I’m going to go put some pajamas on.”

He watches your every move as you pass him to enter your bedroom. You close the door and lean back against it. You weren’t sure how much longer you could last without pouncing him, but you were determined to get through at least one movie with him before getting him into your bed under the premise that it was bedtime. It was already pretty late after all.

You hold the nightgown you chose specifically for tonight in your hands. It was a low cut, spaghetti strap gown. The hem stopped mid-thigh and it was lace trimmed. The neckline did little to hide your cleavage, especially with no bra. It was pretty much skintight, but the slit that ran up your left leg gave you just enough room to breathe. You look at yourself in the mirror and can’t help the small laugh that escapes your lips as your eyes land on the small bow that was nestled in between your breasts. Almost like it was taunting. You turn yourself slightly in the mirror to get a look at the whole gown.

“Alright,” you say to yourself. “I can do this.” You put your feet back into your slippers and take a deep breath before opening your bedroom door.

You make your way back to your living room with a newfound determination.

“I put on your favorite,” he mentions without looking at you, eyes trained on the TV as the opening to Tarzan plays.

As you walk around the couch to your designated spot beside him, he glances up at you for the first time. His eyes widen as he takes in what you are wearing, caught off guard at the barely there nightgown you had chosen. It wasn’t much different from what you normally wore, he guesses. He tries not to read too much into it as you plop yourself beside him on the couch and press yourself into his side. He’s almost too scared to touch you that he doesn’t move his arm from the back of the couch.

You don’t make a comment about it. Instead, you thank him for putting on your favorite movie and thus begins the one hour and twenty-eight minutes of torture you have to endure to wait for bedtime.

Tooru isn’t fairing much better beside you. His eyes haven’t left the TV since the movie started and his left hand was now gripping the cushion of the back of the couch so tight that his fingers were beginning to hurt. Luckily, he had changed into some baggie sweatpants, and he had used his free hand to cover his half-hard erection with the baggie tee shirt he was wearing as well, so you had no idea the effect your little get up had on him. He wasn’t entirely sure what to think about it all. He couldn’t tell if you had done this on purpose or if your motives were innocent. Either way, he was scared of what he might do once he gets into your bed for the night. He thinks he might not be able to stop himself.

As for you, your heart was beating so loud in your chest that you were glad yours and Tooru’s positions weren’t switched. You were on edge and kind of glad he wasn’t touching you. You feared how you might react if his hands were on you. You could wait. You could definitely wait. You wanted this to be special…

And so when the end credits finally roll, you find yourself jumping off the couch a little too quickly, announcing that you were going to brush your teeth and wait for him in bed. As you skip off, Tooru balances his elbows on his knees and drops his face into his hands. What was he going to do? He knew that if he got into bed with you looking like that, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. Maybe if he laid facing away from you…

Yes, that’s it. He’ll just lay facing away from you.

When he finishes brushing his teeth, he walks around your place to shut everything off and double check the locks on the door. He closes your blinds and curtains before making his way to your dark bedroom, finding you exactly where you said you would be.

You had been staring up at the ceiling for the last 10 minutes listening to him shuffle about your apartment like he normally did when he stayed over. He always turned everything off for you before getting into bed. A man’s job, he had told you once.

Your room was small, your bed pressed up against two walls in the corner of the room. When Tooru stays over, you sleep closest to the wall so Tooru could sleep closest to the door. Also, a man’s job, he had told you when you asked. You didn’t quite understand it, but you assumed it was the same as him putting you on the inside of the sidewalk when you guys walked together.

When he finally enters your bedroom, you feel your heart skip a beat upon seeing his silhouette in your door frame. Wordlessly, he pulls the covers on your bed back and climbs in beside you. Without so much as glancing your way, he turns to face away from you.

“Good night, darling,” he tells you.

You frown. Then your frown turns into a glare. You turn on your side and prop yourself up on your elbow to look at his back.

“No kiss good night?” you ask, voice laced with annoyance.

He turns over onto his back, eyes closed and puckers his lips out for a kiss. You draw in a deep breath, suddenly very annoyed with whatever game he is playing. So you don’t move. You wait.

After a very long 30 seconds, he opens one eye to look at you, lips still puckered. He finds you staring at him with narrowed eyes.

“What?” he asks innocently. He opens both eyes to fully look at you. And he wishes he wouldn’t have. With the way your body was propped with your elbow, your nightgown was gaping, showing your breasts so deliciously pressed together and threatening to spill out of the fabric. If you moved even slightly in his direction, he would be catching a nip slip. He felt his mouth water. He quickly covers his face with his hands to keep himself from pushing you back against the mattress and having his way with you.

“Why won’t you look at me?” you ask, voice small.

Oh, no, Tooru thinks.

“Y/N,” he starts, face still covered. “If I look at you, I’m going to want to touch you. And if I touch you, I’m not going to want to stop. And if I don’t stop-”

“Look at me, then.”

Tooru freezes, breath caught in his throat as he slowly lowers his hands. His eyes stay trained on the ceiling as he swallows the lump in his throat.

“Tooru,” you murmur, hand reaching out to grab his. You lean closer to him. “Look at me,” you whisper.

The next thing you know, you’re on your back underneath him, eyes wide and lips parted in surprise. He fits his right leg in between yours, pressing his knee right up against you. You snap your mouth shut at the feeling and gulp. Your hands fist into the sheets at your sides as you look at the man above you. His eyes are closed again, head hanging as he takes in labored breaths through his nose to calm himself down.

You reach a hand up to touch his face. “Too-” He catches you off guard by catching your hand just before you can touch him. When he finally opens his eyes, he makes direct eye contact with you as he brings your hand towards his face and kisses the inside of your wrist. You suck in a breath as your body squirms beneath him, accidentally rubbing yourself right against the thigh that was currently pressed against you.

He presses it harder into you in response as he drops your hand and leans down. Both yours and his breathing is the only sound in the room. Your breathing picks up in anticipation as his face gets closer to yours until he is pressing his lips to your cheek and gently nudging your head to the side with his own. He presses his lips to the underside of your jaw, and you close your eyes, small gasp leaving your lips as he continues trailing the softest kisses down your neck.

Every touch of his lips on your skin sends electricity down your spine, arousal settling at the base and only growing stronger as his lips reach your collar bone. Your breathing is labored, chest rising and falling rapidly underneath him. When he pulls back to look at you, he feels his self-control crumble and slip right through his fingers. Your lips are parted, cheekbones dusted a pretty pink, pupils blown wide and eyes heavy lidded.

Without looking away, he pushes your legs apart with his other knee, fitting himself right in between your thighs, hips centimeters away from yours, his own knees spread apart and resting on either side of your hips. His hands are pressed into the pillow beside your head, the only part of your bodies touching is where your thighs are pressed into his hips. He stays like that, for a long moment.

He’s apprehensive about going too fast.

You’re over that. You’re over the anxiety, the nervousness, the anticipation. Without thinking twice, and moving faster than Tooru can register, you tangle your hands into his hair and pull his mouth to yours. He grunts as your lips connect, caught off guard, but the sound is quickly replaced with a low moan as you press your tongue into his mouth.

As he slides his tongue against yours, you let out the softest moan and he finally presses his hips firmly into yours. You gasp as you feel his cock press right up against you, arousal pooling into your panties as he barely rocks his hips into yours.

He pulls back to look at you, to make sure you’re okay after that gasp you let out, eyes panicked as he searches your face. He brings his hand up to caress your face.

“Are you-” You catch his wrist before he can finish his sentence and press his palm right against your breast.

“Touch me,” you breathe out.

If you weren’t so caught up in the moment and dead set on doing this with him, you could laugh at the way Tooru’s jaw goes slack and the far away look in his eyes. He wasn’t expecting this, not tonight. He was willing to wait years for you to be ready, but now that you were he felt unprepared. He finally looks down at your body beneath his. Your nightgown was bunched up at your hips, thighs parted to accommodate him, hair splayed out against the pillow. He could see your nipple that wasn’t covered with his hand through the fabric of the nightgown, erect and pressing into the cotton. And when he looked further down, he could see your underwear barely peeking out from the hem of your nightgown. He could also see the wet spot forming and his heart skips a beat.

He slides his hands to your waist and your eyes follow his movements. His fingertips glide to your hips before he is fitting them underneath the fabric of your nightgown, pressing them directly into the warm skin of your waist, just above the band of your panties. You suck in a breath as you feel his cool hands on your bare skin, trying not to squirm beneath him as he moves those same hands up and up, pushing your nightgown up your body to your waist, revealing your underwear and navel to his gaze.

He caresses your skin so gently, hands moving to smooth against your thighs. Without thinking, he moves his hands to the inside of your thighs, coming to a stop at the edge of your panties before he firmly parts your thighs to get a good look at the underwear you chose to wear tonight.

You’re practically panting underneath him, arousal leaking into your underwear again underneath his gaze. You had chosen a pair of cotton underwear that was lace trimmed, the same color of your nightgown as well. It also had a little bow on the waistband.

Tooru’s mouth waters as he looks down at you, thighs spread for him. He can feel himself come alive above you, finally. Now that you had given him explicit permission to touch you, he wasn’t going to hold himself back anymore.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, eyes moving up to meet yours. “If you don’t tell me now, I’m not going to be able to stop,” he informs you, voice breathy. You gulp, thoughts racing a million miles a minute, but not a single one of them is telling you that you shouldn’t go through with this. Every single thought is begging him to touch you, to kiss you, to lick you, to be inside of you. Have you ever wanted this this badly before?

You swallow thickly. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whisper.

He throws his head back and groans. “I need you to be sure about this,” he says to the ceiling.

You knit your eyebrows together into a frown. “Tooru.” Your voice is even, much to your surprise, and he looks back down at you with wide eyes. You relax your face when you see just how anxious he is. He doesn’t want to hurt you.

“Take them off,” you blurt out.

His hands go slack against you in surprise, confused look plastered on his face before he feels you pushing at his hands, encouraging him to take your underwear off. He pulls them off your hips and you maneuver your body to help him get them off, knees pressed up against your own chest as he pulls them off your ankles and tosses them to the floor. You stay like that until he is grabbing your knees with his hands and pushing your thighs apart to press his hips right back up against you, hands pressing into the pillow next to your head. He meets your gaze as he rolls his hips experimentally into yours, clothed cock somehow rubbing right in between your folds.

You gasp and arch your back, pressing your nightgown clad tits right up into his chest. He smirks as he feels himself come alive with confidence above you. If just that one action gets this sort of reaction, how quickly can he get you to be putty in his hands?

Without thinking, he yanks down the top of your nightgown to expose your breasts to him, right hand cupping the underside of your left breast and squeezing as he brings his mouth down to your now bare nipple. He sucks the bud into his mouth, and you writhe beneath him, breast pressing further into his mouth and hips grinding up against his. He moves to give the same attention to your other breast, and you press your head back into your pillow at the feeling.

As you lift your hips up to grind against him again, he presses your hips down into the mattress. You watch as he moves his body down your own, hands moving to the underside of your thighs and pressing them into your body, exposing you to him. His mouth waters at the sight of your glistening pussy and without wasting any more time, he moves to press his lips right against your clit.

You suck in a breath through your teeth as he opens his mouth and presses his tongue against you, moan bubbling up in your throat as he circles your clit with it. He presses an open mouth kiss against you before diving down to lap up the arousal at your entrance. You moan from beneath him, hand finding its way into his hair and pressing him further into you. He’s slow with his ministrations, tongue drawing lazy figure eights against you before sucking your clit into his mouth and licking up the wetness accumulating on your sex.

You’re a mess beneath him and he’s enjoying it. You’re thrusting your hips up into his face every time his tongue drags across your clit and he’s trying not to smirk against you. Just when you think he is done, he picks up his pace, tongue sloppily flicking repeatedly against your clit. You feel your orgasm building up at a rapid speed, threatening to tumble you straight over the edge until he pulls away, sitting back up on his knees and placing himself between your thighs.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, lips pulling up into a smirk as he looks down at you gasping beneath him. “You taste fucking delicious,” he comments, and you feel your face heat up. You clench around nothing at his statement, hips rolling up against his subconsciously. He raises an eyebrow at that.

Wordlessly, he begins taking his clothes off and you watch as he tosses his shirt, sweats and boxers onto the floor beside your bed. You swallow thickly as his unveils his cock, eyes darting up to his face as he fits himself back between your thighs, pressing himself right against your pussy.

You gasp as he covers your body with his own, cock rubbing slightly against you as he shifts above you.

“Baby,” he whispers to you. You make eye contact with him, and he rubs his cock against you, as if he was rewarding you. You moan as he rolls his hips against you again, the head of his cock bumping right against your clit.

“Tooru,” you gasp out. “Stop it.”

He smirks as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, lips pressing sloppy kisses into your skin. “Stop what?” he rolls his hips against you again, breath catching in his own throat at the feeling of your pussy rubbing right against the head of his cock.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing his body down against your own. “Just fuck me already,” you whisper into his ear.

His brain short circuits at that, body stilling against yours. When he finally comes back to life, he reaches between your body to grasp the base of his cock. It was like you had lit him on fire with just those four words. He wastes no time pressing the head of his cock to your entrance, pussy sucking him right in.

“Fuck,” he breathes out as he presses himself further into you. You whimper beneath him as he stretches you out. He leans back to look at you, brushing your hair out of your face as he bottoms out. Your eyebrows are knit together at the burn of him filling you for the first time. He stills above you, bringing his lips down to press against yours before pulling back to look at you beneath him.

His eyes fall to where the two of you are connected. “Fuck,” he breathes out again. He finds himself pulling his hips back, an inch of his cock pulling out of you before he slowly presses back into you to watch it disappear. You moan at the feeling.

“You feel so fucking good,” he gasps out. You involuntarily clench around him at his words, face heating up as his gaze darts up to meet your own. You turn your face away from him, but his hand finds itself around your neck, slightly squeezing and you turn back to look at him, pussy clenching around him again.

He slowly begins rocking his hips into you, finally.

“So tight,” he grounds out as he picks up his pace, hand leaving your neck to spread your thighs further apart.

You moan unabashedly as he fucks into you, body on fire with pleasure. “Faster,” you breathe.

He obliges, picking up his pace until he is practically slamming into you, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust. You cry out beneath him, hands fisting into the sheets beneath you.

“Fuck, you take me so well, baby, look at you,” he praises, and it sends you right over the edge without warning, orgasm washing over you heavily, body spasming and shaking beneath him violently. He quickly presses his chest against yours, pressing his lips against your own in a sloppy kiss as he slowly fucks you through your first orgasm of the night. You moan into his mouth as you come down, body finally settling as he pulls back to look at your fucked out face.

“You’re so pretty when you come,” he tells you, voice thick. You feel your face heat up underneath his gaze, closing your eyes to avoid looking at him. “Again.”

Your eyes fly back open. “Again?” you ask, incredulous. “I don’t know-” You’re cut off as he begins thrusting into you again, mouth falling open in a silent scream.

“You can give me another one, baby doll,” he says. “I know you can.”

He shifts, angling his hips to thrust up into you, hitting a spot inside you you’ve never felt before. You’re practically sobbing beneath him now, hands pushing at his abdomen. He just grabs up your wrists and pins them to the mattress.

“That’s it, my pretty baby,” he praises you again. “Come for me again.”

You’re so wet from your previous orgasm that you can hear him enter you over and over, the sound so lewd. You feel your walls clamp down on him as your second orgasm approaches quickly.

“Come on, pretty,” he encourages you.

“Wait,” you gasp out as tears fall from your eyes at the overstimulation. Before you can say another word, the cord in your belly snaps again, orgasm washing over you so violently.

Tooru is a moaning mess above you as your pussy pulses around him, he’s trying so hard to keep his orgasm at bay. He’s determined to make you come one more time before he lets himself go. He caresses your body as you slowly calm back down, body stilling, but breaths still coming out in short gasps.

“One more,” he tells you and you feel your lip quiver.

This time, though, he rolls his hips into you, slowing the pace way down as he presses kisses along the expanse of your chest.

“So fucking good,” he whispers into your skin and your hands find their way into his locks. You moan as his cock hits just the right spot inside you again, stars erupting in your vision as pain blurs into the line of pleasure.

“So fucking pretty.”

You wrap your legs around his hips as he continues rutting into you, your own hips moving to meet every roll of his. He moans out your name against your skin.

“Close,” he breathes as his thrusts become sloppy.

Before you can react, he groans out from above you, spilling his seed into you as you reach your third orgasm. He’s a wreck above you, moaning every time your walls flutter around him.

“F-fuck,” he stutters as he presses himself to the hilt one last time, finally stilling before collapsing on top of you.

You don’t know how long you lay like that together before he leaves the room and comes back to clean you up, warm wash rag collecting the seed spilling out of you. You hiss as he wipes you down, sleepily glaring at him with one eye open. He apologizes profusely with every swipe of the rag against your body.

He leaves the room once more, coming back with a glass of water that he hands to you before he pulls his boxers back on. You sit up and down the glass, gulping the liquid down like you’d never had water before in your life, some of it spilling out of the sides of your mouth and down your chest. You thrust the empty glass back out at Tooru who takes it and sets it on the bedside table.

You flop back against the pillows, closing your eyes with a sigh. The bed dips as Tooru climbs in beside you, suddenly feeling shy. He lays away from you for a solid minute before he lets out a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a growl and turns to pull you right against his chest.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly. “I wasn’t too rough, was I? Did I hurt you?”

You wrap your arms around his bare waist. “I’m okay,” you reassure him. Your face heats up again. “It felt… really good…”

“You’re not just saying that, are you, darling?”

“Tooru,” you laugh.

When you pull back to look at him, you see him pouting.

“You’re the first guy to ever make me come,” you tell him. “And three times, at that…” you mumble the last bit under your breath, but he hears it. He feels his body heating up again, competitive nature threatening to take over once again.

“I can make it four,” he tells you seriously.

“Tooru!” you yell at him.

“I love it when you yell at name like that,” he teases.

“It’s bedtime,” you remind him. You kiss him on the lips. “Good night.”

You close your eyes, ready for sweet sleep to welcome you when you hear him say something under his breath, voice so soft and so airy you almost miss it.

“I love you.”

#kirishima tooru smut #kirishima tooru x reader #the yakuza's guide to babysitting smut #completely self indulgent #please be nice #I'm not too proud of the smut #but I do feel like I captured his personality SO well

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