OKAY HOLD UP I KNOW THIS IS A SHITPOST BUT I HAVE A DEGREE IN THIS
Okay, so when we talk about the meaning of words, we are talking about denotation, the dictionary definition of the word, and connotation, the context in which native speakers associate with the word. Connotation is why just looking up synonyms of words doesn't always work.
When teaching this to ESL learners, my favorite example is the word "accumulate." Accumulate means to gather or collect in the dictionary definition of the words. The error in the example is for someone to say "I accumulate things" instead of "I collect things." This sounds wrong, because despite the denotation of the word, the most common connotation of accumulate is that a process done over time and without intent. Water accumulates. Dust accumulates. Money accumulates. But a person cannot say they accumulate things, because that is not a natural usage of the word.
However! As a writer who likes to learn new words, you can now use this knowledge to your advantage. Consider the following sentences:
Bob collected unread books until they piled high around his bed.
Versus
Books accumulated around Bob's bed, turning it into a fortress of unread words.
Both sentences are telling us the same thing - but the latter gives us a bit more insight on Bob, in that he's not intentionally obtaining so many books and not reading them, and that's a far more interesting thing to learn. The more you learn these words in context, the more you can use them to enrich your own writing. Embrace the thesaurus - but pay attention to those example sentences and how those words are actually used!
Synopsis: Visiting a luxury resort for your friend's bachelorette party, you notice a mystery man in the lobby who almost seems to... recognize you? You're certain you've never seen him before, but he seems to notice you right away. Well, it's fine! It's supposed to be a fun girls trip anyways, so who cares if you entertain the attention from him for a bit? Besides, he might even take you for a ride. ;)
Tags: pining down bad Kento [my fav], scheming SatoSugu, french kissing, romantic fluff, miscommunication, road head, slight facial, voyeurism, mutual masturbation, missionary, p in v, slight breeding kink!, jealous nanami, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of infidelity, creampie, soft and domestic ending, p0rn w plot essentially, 18+, MDNI
a/n @ the end; this is so self indulgent
not proofread!
WC: 12k [IM SORRY, lowkey slow burn??]
~~~~~~~
The lobby of the hotel is nicer than the photos you had seen online as you tug your small carry-on suitcase across the granite tiled floors. There’s chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, a small team of employees assisting with luggage and valet, and nearly all the other visitors are dressed in expensive suits and tailored clothing.
You let out a low whistle and follow your group to reception while mentally distancing yourself from the state of your bank account after this trip. The entire budget was far too expensive for you, but the occasion for celebration demanded you absolutely had to be in attendance.
“Ok, you three are on floor 8, and the rest of us are on 7..” Shoko addresses the group while passing out room cards. “Lets have 90 minutes to drop our things off and get dressed for the first event. Everyone in the lobby with your bathing suits no later than 3:15!”
Maki and Nobara snatch the key and elbow you in the side to keep up the pace as an employee takes your luggage and ensures it’ll be delivered shortly– another service tip slowly chipping away at your finances. The three of you walk to the elevator and awe at the decorations in the lobby while sidestepping to avoid the large crowds of people exiting the exhibition hall for an assumed lunch break.
You nudge Nobara and keep your eyes on the mass of people trickling from the room. “What do you think is going on?”
“Business conference.” Maki answers instead, pointing to a small sign for what seems like a financial law themed seminar.
Nobara lets out a low whistle of “booooring” when a man dressed in a tailored khaki suit turns around at the noise.
And he’s fine as hell.
He’s maybe just over 6 feet tall and well built with blonde hair perfectly styled and gentle signs of exhaustion on his face; maybe a few years older than you, but definitely more experienced.
There’s an expression of disinterest and slight agitation when his eyes scan the crowd in search of the offhand comment until they land right on you; a look of nearly recognition. It’s a brief shiver that shoots down your spine while Maki shoves Nobara for being so careless as to insult the very conference these people were probably paying an abysmal amount of money to attend in the first place.
A trance in your eyes as you can’t seem to break the stare between you and mystery man, Nobara shakes your shoulder slightly as you find yourself completely glued to the floor. He pivots slightly, as if to move closer, with his mouth open partially to speak, when the rest of your group catches up to the elevator shafts.
“You guys better not run late! 3:15 is the cut off if we’re gonna have time for this evening’s dinner.” Utahime hands Yuki her room key and turns to you. “And please remember the rule about wearing white.”
Moments before you’re whisked away, it seems another group of men had caught his attention, laughing and ushering him to the next event location with his blonde hair sandwiched between wisps of white and black. Before you can protest her accusation, you’re being shuffled into the elevator with the group of girls and can only get a few glimpses at the man before the doors shut.
****
The 3:15 event is a pre-game at the resort pool bar filled with lounging next to the water, a poor attempt at volleyball, and enough strawberry daiquiris to make you nauseous from the alcohol and sugar content. Half of the girls take breaks to sit in the sun and tan, occasionally getting glimpses at the men that also linger around the pool, while you sit in the water on the pool stairs while Nobara floats idly beside you in a tube.
“Can’t believe Shoko was able to organize all of this…”
Nobara keeps her face upwards at the sun with her eyes shut behind a pair of sunglasses. “Hmmm, being the maid of honor isn’t easy work.”
“I’m really grateful for it, I don’t know if I could've planned something like this.”
Yuki slams the inflatable volleyball down against the water and laughs while Utahime whines at the chlorine now soaking her hair; Mai and Maki lounge side by side laughing at the scene unfold. The sun is intense, and despite sitting in the water, you feel more dehydrated than ever before.
With a soft sigh, you rise from the water and gently kick Nobara’s tube to float further away as light snores can be heard leaving her lips as she relaxes further. The concrete by the pool is hot, and you jump from shade to shade until you reach your chair to towel off.
“Leaving? We still have more time until we need to get ready for dinner, you know.”
You turn to Maki and wrap the towel around your chest before slipping on your sandals, “Yea, just gonna run inside to grab an extra bottle of sunscreen. Don’t want Nobara to burn if she’s gonna be baking in the sun.”
Maki knows that other people definitely already have a spare bottle poolside, but she understands your silent need for a moment alone and doesn’t question it. You grab the room card from your tote and shuffle back towards the lobby with a shiver as the AC chills your damp skin.
Soft piano music now flows steadily through the large room as the waitstaff power-walk across the floor with preparations for the resort’s attached restaurant. Curious, and with nothing better to do, you walk over to the entrance and watch the way everyone sets white table cloths and candles on each table in preparation for the dinner rush.
The restaurant has a long bar in the back against the wall, while tables are scattered across the floor all the way to the patio entrance. While the doors are shut for now, at evening time they open up to a large wooden deck that provides a beautiful view of the ocean only steps away from the hotel doors. A large wooden table sits near the patio doors; a floral bouquet, balloons, and candles litter the top as the chairs are draped in white cloth in celebration.
“I take it you’re not here for the seminar.”
“!!”
You flinch and spin around, hand still clutching the towel, to find a mop of white hair similar to the one you had spotted in the lobby earlier. Clear, celeste blue eyes peer down at you while an intrigued and wolfish smile spreads across the man’s lips. He laughs at your reaction, but makes no effort to move from his position as he patiently waits for an answer.
“Oh, uh… no, I’m not.”
He smiles a bit more and looks back at the working staff while waiting silently for elaboration.
“It’s a bachelorette party.”
The man turns back to you, gently guiding your hips to make room for employees to carry in crates of vegetables to the kitchen, and cheekily shoots you another smirk. “Ohhh, sounds fun.”
He’s stereotypically handsome, with strong facial features, tall toned legs, and the air of confidence that leaves you completely at his beck and call. But he’s not him, he’s not the mystery man you saw earlier.
You shrug and back up to the lobby with the white haired man idly keeping pace beside you with his lanky legs making up the distance in double time. Maybe it’s wrong, but you can’t help but peer around the lobby just in case the other gentleman might be nearby.
“Looking for someone, sweets?”
Pausing, you clench the towel tighter and roll your eyes slightly at the pet name, but don’t bother reprimanding him for the way it sounded so natural to leave his lips. “Just my friends.”
He looks around the lobby, his hands in his pockets, when you finally take in the fact he had changed clothes from the suit you saw him in earlier. Instead of slacks and a button-up, he adorns slim-fit athletic trousers and a pale blue polo.
“Right, well I don’t think they’re here….?” He edges on, waiting for your name.
Maybe if you were home, back at your menial job at a dingy bar your friends always drag you to, you wouldn’t bother giving it, but this time you do; he smiles at it and puts out his hand for you to shake.
“Lovely to meet you–”
“Hey, Satoru! What are you doing..?”
You spin around with the man, Satoru, flipping from your handshake to a position with his hand wrapped around your shoulder blades. The voice radiates from the same man with long black hair you also saw in the lobby; the actual man you’ve been wondering about is still nowhere in sight.
“Hey Suguru, just chatting with my friend.”
The other gentleman, Suguru, is also dressed in put-together alethic wear and raises an eyebrow at Satoru before dragging his eyes across you. Sandals on your feet and pool towel still wrapped around you, it’s obvious that Satoru had bumped into you rather than actually been hanging out.
Suguru doesn’t question it though, he offers an introduction and gives Satoru a slight nudge with an eyebrow raise, before walking towards the large entrance doors of the lobby. Despite his hand no longer on your back, you feel yourself being guided to follow suit, as if you were meant to join this strange group.
“Kento’s gonna be mad if we’re late to golf with Yaga. You know how that old guy is about deadlines.”
Satoru whines playfully at his friend and shrugs. “I win every game regardless, so why do we even bother playing in the first place?”
“It’s about the principle, you know that.” Suguru smoothly responds as the three of you walk to the valet stand right in front of the lobby.
You follow suit, walking beside the men and taking in the way they acted like a game of business golf with an exorbitant fee was the same as getting a coffee from the convenience store. The three of you make it to the valet stand where Satoru huffs about the fact ‘he’s not even here yet’ before Suguru spins around and finally acknowledges you once again.
“I take it you’re not playing with us this time? Unfortunately, I don’t think a bikini is allowed on the green.”
You pause, the slight drip of chlorine still steadily falling from your skin and you sheepishly shrink back slightly from the mention that you had no real connection to these men in the first place. “Oh, uh.. No I’m not.”
“A real shame if you ask me.” Satoru dramatically responds, only looking back towards the pull-up area when a dark gray Mercedes [AMG GT coupé] parks in the front.
Any voice in your throat is cut short as the car remains idling while the driver opens the door and slides out. Standing upright, sleeked and well groomed blonde hair pops into view as the man gracefully declines valet and slips off his sunglasses.
It’s hard not to stare; the biceps of his arms stretching the short sleeves of his polo while sturdy thighs are pushing the thread limits of his golf trousers. He fills out everything in all the right places.
Suguru steps down the front stairs to greet the man while Satoru lets out a snort at your obvious stare and gives a quick elbow to your ribs. Another young man slinks out of the back seat spot and runs around to pop open the trunk of the car.
“Nanamin, did you want to put anything else back here?”
The blond man, who you thought was Kento(?), doesn’t pause at the nickname and instead shakes his head. “That’s alright Itadori, you know we will have caddies on the course, right?”
Wait.. Itadori? Where have you heard that name from before….?
A smile akin to blinding sunlight emits from the younger man’s mouth as he excitedly shuts the hatch and nods eagerly. Itadori remains by the idling car, but looks up to assess the woman his seniors are talking to; the expression of borderline recognition crosses his face as it did yours.
“Nice of you to bring your intern, Kento.” Suguru comments, approaching him.
“He’s good at his job…and wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Satoru lets out a wolfish giggle and pushes you slightly forward to get the man who you’ve been searching for. “Well maybe we can use a cart girl for the next game.”
Kento looks up from his small talk with Suguru and his eyes widen slightly at seeing you once again, though this time up close…. and in a pool towel. He stutters slightly before raising a stern eyebrow to the pair of cackling white and blacked hair men.
“You two–”
“she’s our friend!” Satoru slinks a casual arm around your shoulder, though the act isn’t as flirty as he’s dramatically portraying it to be. “Figured it would be good for everyone to meet, especially if we’re gonna keep bumping into each other for the weekend.”
Kento scowls at him but turns to you with a calm expression. “I’m very sorry for any trouble these two have caused you. If it’s an issue, I can escort you to the concierge desk to report a proper claim against them–”
“HEY!” Satoru interjects. “She’s here for a wedding party and we’re here for a boring conference at the same time. What’s the harm if we make friends with our co-hostages at this place??”
A 5-star ocean-front resort is your last definition of a hostage by any definition of the phrase, but the theatrics Satoru puts on eases the tension regardless. Suguru laughs and places a steady hand on Kento’s stiffened shoulder before walking over to Yuji to claim the shotgun seat of the car.
“I’m alright.” You finally speak up. “Really, it’s nice to meet other people here too.”
Kento keeps his gaze sternly on Satoru, but eventually eases up to reassess your expression. He keeps his vision on your face, taking in several details, before coughing slightly and nodding once. “Alright then, it’s nice to formally meet you–”
“Ah, too professional!” Satoru pushes you forward slightly and gives a harder smack to the chiseled back of Kento with a cheesy grin. “Don’t mind him, he’s just a little stiff right now.”
The blonde shoots his head in his companion’s direction before the horn of his idling car honks with Suguru rolling the window down. “We’re gonna be even more late! Stop jerking each other off and let’s go!”
“Yea! What he said!” Yuji echoes in the back.
Both men scoff lightly and offer a ‘goodbye’ while walking down to the car; still standing in the towel, you take a slight step forward and raise a hand before they disappear inside. “See you later… Satoru, Suguru,....Kento!”
His name fell naturally from your lips, and you can swear there was maybe the ghost of a blush on his cheeks as he waves back and slides into the driver’s seat. From Suguru’s still open window, you can hear Satoru goading his name was the one you called first, while Itadori is convinced he’s seen you somewhere before.
From the angle of his side-view mirror, you can see his gaze linger on your figure before the sports car engine roars as it leaves the hotel parking lot.
****
“Did you move my hair straightener…? I swear I just had it–” The words die on Maki’s lips as Nobara peers out of the bathroom with said device pinching a section of hair. “We’re gonna be late if you keep taking so long! Isn’t your hair naturally straight already?”
Nobara waves her off and continues the finishing touches while Maki stands impatiently in the doorway waiting for her to finish; you shimmy on the delicate pair of heels and test walk a few times to see how badly they hurt.
Deciding the pain isn’t too intense, as you guys would be sitting down to eat anyways, you move to the large standing mirror in the suite to smooth out any wrinkles of your satin mini-dress. The alarm clock on the desk besides you reads 8 minutes before the reservation time is set for.
“Shoko is going to kill us if we aren’t in the lobby on time~” You sing out to the two bickering girls as Maki pries the straightener from Nobara and rapidly adjusts her hair. The latter woman waves you off and slides into her heeled sandals before scrolling through her phone idly.
“Huh, Itadori’s here too?”
You spin around at the name and stand beside her to peer at her social media. On the ‘close friend’s only’ story is a partial selfie with a variety of other men in the background chatting and lining up their next shot on the green. A few guys are unfamiliar to you, but the heads of white, long black, and sleek blonde hair immediately catch your gaze.
“Huuh? Aren’t those the guys you were talking to?”
You didn’t even hear Maki walk back into the room but Nobara shoots you both a confused glance. Combing her straightened hair into a sleek ponytail, Maki shoots you a side glance. “You took too long to get the sunscreen earlier so I was gonna check up on you… but once I saw you with those meatheads I figured it would be best to give you some space.”
A hot blush and panic spreads across your face while Nobara makes fake vomit sounds and retches beside you. “Ewwww! We had a rule of ‘no men!’ for this trip, and you go hang out with Itadori?!”
“What? No!... he was just there when I was already talking to Kento.”
“Kento?!” They scream at the same time.
You raise a hand to drag across your face, but pause at the threat of ruining the makeup you spent the last 35 minutes doing. “There were a group of guys there for the financial seminar… Satoru, Suguru, and Kento…”
Maki and Nobara stare at you incredulously before peering back down at the phone. Feeling left out you nudge them both. “Ok, and now can you two explain how the hell you know them??”
Nobara taps through his story a few times more and holds up a better photo of Itadori, “We went to high school together and he didn’t transfer into our undergrad university until like junior year. I’ve mentioned him a few times, but you two were in different majors so you probably never bumped into him.”
Maki leans forward and points to Satoru and Suguru, “Mmm I’m pretty sure these guys have beef with like my uncle or something. A rivaling firm for whatever shady business schemes they’re all roped into.”
You lean in and watch each photo tap by, your gaze lingering on the shamelessly glazed photos Itaodri pridefully posts about his mentor. The sweat dripping from his temple as he swings his club, the casual steering of the golf cart, and the way he flexes his thighs juuuust a little before lining his next shot.
“She’s totally gone.”
“Hey.” You blink back at the two of them. “Anything on the mystery blonde man? Suguru mentioned something about Itadori being his intern.”
Nobara taps her chin once but can’t seem to come up with an answer. “Can’t say for sure. I’ll just text Megumi and have him fill me in–.”
“Oh shit, it’s 7:20!” Maki scurries for her shoes while you leap across one of the beds to grab your purse and Nobara dives for her lipstick on the bathroom counter.
The three of you run for the elevator, ignoring the tourists and other visitors in the hallways, and pant when you reach the resort restaurant entrance to an annoyed Utahime. She has her arms folded but lets you all off with a sigh and a stern look before guiding you to the table where the rest of the girls sit languidly chatting and browsing the menu.
Mai chuckles at the three of you and places the drink menu down with a chuckle. “Ah, nice of you to make it.”
Maki rolls her eyes while Nobara scans down the table to make sure no one else is within ear shot. “It’s not our fault! She was talking to a guy!”
“What?!”
Yuki and Shoko turn to look down the table while you sink your seat and hide behind a menu card before Mai repeats her shock again, though this time in a lower volume.
“What do you mean you were talking to a guy? The first rule of this whole trip is no men.”
You whine when Nobara and Maki snicker beside you and fiddle with the edges of the menu before defensively sitting back up and using the extensive wine list as a barrier. “Listen, they approached–”
“They?!”
You cough and kick her shin. “Yea, they approached me and I was just being friendly. Nothing else.”
Nobara peers down at her phone and slides it on the table between the four of you. “Yea, sooo friendly with Itadori’s mentor from the consultancy company he’s working for.”
Megumi’s contact is pulled up on the screen with a variety of images of him walking a pair of dogs, followed by Nobara’s sudden question, his answer, and then his follow up of asking why she wanted to know in the first place. She leaves him on delivered and places the phone back in her purse.
Maki lets out a low whistle and clicks her tongue a few times. “Yuta told me he was thinking of applying there; the salaries are no joke. Starting wage for a consultant is 150k.”
You nearly choke on your order to the waiter for a glass of wine and gawk at her in shock. 150k… starting??? You really should’ve changed career paths.
Mai hums in approval and sips her cocktail while Nobara opens up a new text chain to Itadori reminding him that he should take her and Megumi out to dinner some time to congratulate him on the position. Maki crosses her arms and shuts her eyes with a look of pride on her face. “You know what, I can’t even be mad that the guy you’re talking to works there. If he’s not a junior consultant, I can only imagine the paycheck he must be packing.”
Now that you think about it, all three of them were oozing wealth when you bumped into them. Satoru’s sunglasses were definitely prada, the clip holding up Suguru’s hair was Chanel, and fuck, even Kento’s car was probably more than your entire annual salary for 3 years.
But why the hell were they even giving you time of day in the first place? It’s not like you really knew them– only a small string of mutuals that wasn’t discovered until now.
“And, I just want to thank all of you for being here on such an important trip. It’s not everyday that one of our friends is getting married!!” Yuki says, standing and speaking loudly with her glass raised up.
She takes one look down at you and coughs slightly at your faraway state. “Right?”
You cough and raise up your now delivered wine glass. “Oh, yes! It’s a very important moment.”
Shoko looks down into her glass with a muttered ‘Jesus’ and waits for Yuki to finish her toast before downing the entire thing. The table erupts into cheers and celebration as the waitstaff open the patio doors to the evening ocean view only footsteps away. A few claps emit from the restaurant, as people joyously applaud and the live background music grows louder.
With the doors open, wafts of fresh salty air carry throughout the restaurant as the group begins the first of many hours of wining and dining. Each course is more delicious than the last, each bottle of wine has a higher alcohol percentage than the previous, and by the time dessert rolls around, you barely have the ability to sit upright.
Mai is roped off into a conversation with Utahime as the girls slowly spread to the patio fence to overlook the ocean, to the small dance floor by the live band, and the bar along the back wall. From beside you, Nobara sends a few texts to Itadori while Maki leans her head on her shoulder, making an occasional comment.
With your wine glass empty and a heat on your cheeks, the cool night air doesn’t leave you shivering, but instead seems to be inviting you for a walk on the beach. Though, what’s a walk on the beach without a drink in your hand?
Standing up and heading to the bar, you idly glide past a few bodies until you lean against the counter and look at the drink list offered. Nothing in particular seems to catch your eye, and in a moment of consideration for just another glass of champagne, a deep voice rings out behind you.
“Would you like a recommendation?”
Kento moves to stand beside you, his golf attire replaced with a turquoise button-up and tan slacks, as he gives you a soft smile. Woodsy cologne radiates from him and his hair is wind blown from the ocean breeze that drafts into the room. You smile at the man and blush slightly before pointing to your own empty flute.
“I honestly might get a refill since I know it’ll be good. And besides,” you give him a once over with an earnest smile. “You look more like a whiskey-neat kinda guy.”
Kento chuckles slightly, but doesn’t counter the claim at all; when the bartender comes around, he orders exactly that. You place the flute on the counter upon asking for a refill and move to grab your wallet when Kento tugs your hand away and yells over to the waitstaff to place it under the tab ‘Nanami’. There’s a comfortable pause as you slide your wallet away.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Kento smiles into the drink and passes you your refill with a shrug. “It’s the least I can do, it seems you and your friends are… celebrating.”
The word is forced with a stiffness in his jaw that you can’t quite discern before a few wolf-whistles can be heard from behind you. Two sets of footsteps approach as Satoru and Suguru saunter up with questionable posture from their current tipsy state and laugh at the two of you.
“Ah, didn’t mean to interrupt anything. Just grabbing another drink while our dear friend here is still offering to pay.”
Suguru chuckles at his companion and leans against the bar. “Yea, despite knowing Satoru and I would win, you still offered drinks to the victors. “
Kento scoffs at the two of them, half gracefully accepting his sportsmanship compliments and half for their inebriation when they have another round of seminars starting at 8am the next morning. Satoru whines a few times and slings an arm around the black haired man before shuffling closer to the bar to place another order as if they could simply ignore the blonde who stood just feet away.
In exasperation, he pinches the bridge of his nose before you place a gentle hand on his forearm and tilt your head to the wooden patio stairs. “I was gonna walk along the beach, if you want to join me? Maybe get some fresh air?”
Despite the question being for Kento, Satoru whips his head around and gives a sharp elbow to his dark haired friend with a knowing look. The drink order is in the back of his mind as he gains sobriety for just a brief moment. “You know, that’s a great idea. Kento loves the beach, and Suguru and I would join you but…” He looks at his friend.
“–But we have plans already. I saw on Shoko’s social media that she’s staying here too, Satoru and I were going to say hello…and we’ll tell her you said ‘hi’.”
You weren’t really inviting them too, but their not-so subtle rejection gave you a bit more relief than you’d like to admit.
Kento pauses for a moment, obviously aware that the two men were scheming something, but looking back at you, he already had his answer. Moving his whiskey glace to the other hand, he puts out his forearm as a way for you to steady yourself and offers a gentle smile. “I’d love to accompany you, if that’s alright.”
A tried and true gentleman, Kento guides you to the patio stairs and gives you a moment to slide off your heels to avoid breaking an ankle in the sand. Hammocks are splayed out between a variety of palms, and there’s a system of twinkling outdoor bulbs that create a guided path along the ocean. A few other people still linger by waves while a handful of couples chat idly by the outdoor sports activities set up.
“It’s a beautiful night, huh?”
Kento holds his loafers in one hand and his whiskey glace in the other, mirroring your position. “Yes, it is.”
Despite the lack of conversation, the atmosphere is calm and lively. Waves crash against the sandbank while live music from the restaurant still lingers in the air as you two continue walking along the coast. When Kento’s not admiring the scenery of the ocean, he’s stealing occasional glances at you.
You catch his gaze on one of these moments, and despite being caught, he holds your stare before gently smiling to himself and looking back towards the water. Swirling some of the bubbly in your glass, you match his leisurely pace and nudge him slightly.
“Were you aware that we already kinda know each other? Your intern is close with my best friend.”
Kento sucks in a short breath, not saying anything; you watch his stiffened body language and backtrack at how weird you must sound. “I mean… it’s not like a close connection, but isn’t it coincidental that we have mutual acquaintances?”
Upon hearing that was the end of your recollection, he lets out a short sigh and finally turns back to you. “Ah, it’s a small world then.”
The two of you continue walking along the beach, talking about anything from your interests to small anecdotes about the beautiful view. You learn he loves to read and has a soft spot for baked goods, while he learns about your job and the little hobbies you always wish you had more hours in the day to make time for.
After a while, you both turn back and sit at a small hill of sand that overlooks the waves. Your wine glass is empty and sitting far to the side with your hand propped up behind you slightly for support. It feels so comfortable in the moment, and looking up at the stars above, you barely notice when Kento slides his hand to gently rest atop yours.
“Hm?” You don’t mean to immediately look over, but the moment you do, Kento draws his hand back like he’s been burned and stares off into the distance.
“I’m sorry that was wrong of me.”
You blink a few times. “Wait, what? No, I don’t mind! I was just surprised.”
He shakes his head and mutters a string of profanities to himself before rubbing his face and glaring at the ocean waves ahead.
“No, it’s wrong. All of this. I should have never introduced myself, bought you a drink, and came out here with you… I also should have never let those two idiots meddle in things either.” He mumbles the last part mainly to himself.
You flinch and slink back at the sharp rejection he quickly laid out. Tugging your hand away from its position on the sand, you dust the sand from your dress and prepare to stand up. “Oh. If you didn’t want to be around me, you could’ve just said so.”
“What?”
You both stare at each other, still seated on the sand, in complete shock at each other’s responses.
“What…?” You parrot back to him.
Kento opens his mouth before sighing and scratching his jaw. “It’s not that I don’t want to be here– I do. But it’s wrong. Simple as that.”
“What are you talking about? If you want to be here, with me… and I want the same thing, then why does it matter–?”
“It matters because you’re getting married.”
A heavy silence falls over the both of you, with nothing but the sound of waves lapping at the sand filling the air. Kento lets out a breath and tucks his forehead to his knees, testing out the words on his tongue before saying them.
“You’re getting married. The last thing you should be doing is sitting here with me.”
You blink a few times. “I’m not getting married though?”
…
Kento looks up, his brain short circuiting as if he either didn’t hear you or didn’t believe you. “What…? But the wedding party–”
“Bachelorette party.” you correct.
“The ‘wearing white’ rule–”
“My bathing suit earlier wasn’t white… just my towel covered it.”
“And the toast…?” He asks, quickly unraveling the embarrassing truth himself.
“Yuki just called me out because I wasn’t paying attention. It wasn’t a toast for me.”
Kento pauses. “And the setting of the table for the bride…”
“Is for my friend Mei Mei. She’s marrying some random millionaire man in a few months and her maid of honor, Shoko, planned this trip.”
He pauses before grabbing ahold of your left hand and finally notices an obvious lack of engagement ring. A laughter escapes your lips and his ears burn red and he lets out a breath of relief and frustration. “I should’ve known better than to listen to them.”
NO, YOU AIN'T GOT NO MRS.
You let him wallow in self grievances for a moment before reaching across to tug his left hand up for inspection. “No ring on you either. I take it you’re also not married, given the sports car as well.”
Kento intertwines his hand in yours for a moment, a melancholy look on his face that melts when his gaze scans your features again under the moonlight. He runs a thumb over your knuckles before pulling you to stand up next to him.
“No, I’m not. But…almost.”
His voice is quiet, though not inherently sad, and you keep silent at his honesty. You didn’t mean to pry for such a sensitive subject and find interest in kicking the sand as you walk.
“I’m sorry.”
Kento tugs your hand to remain next to him; your other hand balances the stem of the flute and the straps of your heeled sandals.
“Don’t be, you didn’t know.” He tilts his head to the side and lets out a steady exhale. “I was engaged a little over a year ago. But there was infidelity on her side… and the plans quickly fell apart. It’s all in the past now.”
You bite your lip and lean slightly into his bicep, in an act of comfort and confidence from the alcohol in your blood. Craning your neck up at the mountain of a man, you can’t even imagine cheating on him. The idea is so bewildering to you that you don’t realize he continued the conversation.
“Though I’m surprised you made the car connection.” He chuckles dryly in embarrassment. “I admit… I used some of the money I set aside for the wedding payment.”
You continue walking side by side, as if it was the most natural way to spend any evening, and can begin to hear the music from the restaurant get louder the closer you get.
“Well… it must have been a very extravagant wedding you were planning; your car is very nice.”
Kento lets out a low chuckle and continues guiding you towards the resort area once again, though his pace is noticeably slower. Despite the amount of drinks in your system, an ounce of sobriety has led to a slight shiver at the cool evening wind that nips at your exposed skin.
“Forgive me, I left my jacket behind, otherwise I would offer it.”
You try to play off the goosebumps on your arms and shake your head. “Ah, I’m alright. To be honest I wanted to keep walking.” The interior of the restaurant is semi-visible, though you can make out the chaotic dancing and giggling of the girls at your table. “I don’t think they mind too much that I’m out anyways.”
Kento follows your gaze and stops walking, the crash of the ocean waves fills the silence as he finally spots the bride-to-be inside before pivoting to turn to you. Salty air pulls your hair in a variety of directions, and he pushes back a few strands to get an unobstructed view of your face.
“To be honest… I was so worried that this bridal trip was for you…” His hand cups your jaw and lets his thumb trace the lower line of your lip.
“...Really…? Why…”
You’re standing breathless as Kento looks from eye to eye before his gaze lingers on your lips. The music still pouring out from the patio and far away voices are defined as he leans down to connect his mouth to yours.
It’s slow and gentle at first, as if he wasn’t too sure if this was the right move but he molds his lips against yours with the impatience of waiting for you to kiss him back. And you do.
Arms wrap around his neck and haphazardly drop your sandals into the sand while Kento tosses his loafers to the ground and wraps his hand around your waist to keep you pulled into him. Patience gone, he rocks his lips into yours with experienced force as if he had been waiting for this moment.
It’s hypnotizing, the way he molds his lips to yours and runs his tongue out just slightly before slipping it into your mouth as if it was his to do so. Everything feels so hot as his tongue rubs against yours and saliva begins to drip from the corner of your mouth from the messiness. Teeth occasionally clinking when you pause to breathe; he urges forward with no desire of letting you go, even for a moment.
Large hands rub circles on your hip bones through the thin fabric of the dress, and when he grinds his pelvis forward just slightly, you can feel the rough outline of a bulge forming in his slacks. The pressure emits a gasp from your throat that leaves him pulling back slightly, worried if he was coming on too strong for the first encounter.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to…”
“N-No!” You quickly interject before cringing slightly at how desperate it must sound. “I mean… it’s ok…”
Kento nods once and swallows thickly; his hand still possessively keeping you pressed into him. The chatter from the restaurant pours out from the patio, and you look up at the people stumbling to the beach before turning back up to the man at your side. You both must be thinking the same thing, that you don’t want to go back just yet.
Realistically, if Kento’s worried that he’s overstepping a boundary just by being erect, then it’s you who has to take the initiative for this.
“We don’t have to go back inside, you know.” You smooth out an invisible wrinkle across his chest and nearly falter from the low voice that replies.
“But you’re cold.”
Pursing your lips, you think about it for a moment but tetter on the edge of actually committing to the offer. The last thing you want to come across as is a gold digger, but it’s the only option you can think of.
OH, BUT YOU GOT A SPORTS CAR
“What about going for a drive?”
Kento holds your gaze, letting the phrase sit in his head for a few moments before smirking slightly and tugging you in closer. “Yea? Didn’t take you for the type to wanna go on joyrides.”
You suck your bottom lip in slightly and shrug. “Well if you’d rather we go back inside–” he pulls you back into him when you feign walking back towards the patio stairs and chuckles dryly.
“Alright then, follow me.”
You both pick up the fallen (thankfully) unbroken glasses from the sand and slide them on the patio floor for an unfortunate closing employee to pick up later, before walking around the restaurant to the side parking lot. Kento holds you for support so you can kick the sand off your feet before assisting you into your heels and guiding you to the ‘reserved’ spot.
“Doesn’t the valet have your keys?”
He keeps one hand on the small of your back and fishes out his keyring from his front pocket with a sideway smile. “I don’t enjoy leaving things precious to me with amateurs.”
It’s surprisingly cocky, but it goes straight to your cunt, as he easily guides you to the sleek dark-gray sports car that roars to life with the remote start he clicks on. The LED headlights illuminate the asphalt of the parking lot, and when Kento guides you to the passenger side and opens the door, there’s a projected ‘Mercedes’ logo shining down against the concrete. No expense is spared.
“After you.”
He guides you inside and only releases his grasp on your hand once you’re completely seated inside. In a few short strides, he crosses in front and takes his position behind the wheel before shifting gear and pulling out of the parking lot.
Kento drives slowly at first, letting you take in the sights of the town that accompanies the resort before you turn to him and trace the angle of his jaw; he takes your palm and kisses the back of your hand without ever taking his eyes off the road.
“I thought you said this was going to be a joyride? Hmmm?”
He chuckles and peels his eyes off the road to give you a sideways glance before releasing your hand and pinching the top of your thigh. “I don’t want you getting motion sick on me… and besides, I don’t like driving like that with important cargo.”
“Oh come on,” you tease at him, placing his hand flat on the upper flesh of your thigh and batting your eyelashes at him. “Just for a little bit, for me? Pleaseee?”
Immune to your charm, he gives your thigh one more squeeze before pressing his foot against the accelerator and taking off down the empty road ahead. With a slight squeal, you recover from the pressure and roll down the windows and peer out at the hills of golf courses that pass by in flashes.
Kento shifts the gear for an upcoming curve before placing his hand back on your leg and gripping it a bit tighter. “Hang on angel, might get a little bumpy.”
The car roars down the road, with the only illumination coming from the headlights and occasional streetlights that border. Your hair whips in every direction as the speedometer steadily increases as you make it to the straightaway, Kento occasional glimpses over at your direction with a smirk splayed.
Caring less if you crashed (though with his smooth operation, you’re convinced it would be impossible), you pivot in your seat and face him fully as the world flies by outside the window. Tracing the veins on his forearm of the right arm on the wheel, he gives you a sideways glance but doesn’t say anything until you skim the buttons of his shirt and toy with the seam of his slacks.
WE CAN UH-UH IN IT
WHILE YOU DRIVE IT REAL FAR
Palming the belt and clicking your manicured nails against the buckle, he shifts his hips slightly as if suddenly aware of the bulge that had been pressed against his fly for the entirety of the drive.
Kento sucks in a breath and slows down slightly. “What are you up to?”
You laugh and place a firm hand against the muscular curve of his thigh and push his leg down onto the accelerator to speed up once again. “Nothing in particular… but I can stop if you want.”
A throaty groan escapes his lips when you trace the outline of his cock through the fabric before he leans back in his seat and jerks forward slightly. “Don’t– please.”
Never one to displease, you turn your attention back down to his erection and trace the outline once more until you reach over with both hands to release the buckle. Pulling the leather from the fabric loops, you toss the accessory to the backseat with a slight ‘clink!’.
Kento’s eyes are still on the road, but his knuckles are white at the way they grip the wheel and his pelvis twitches against the seatbelt snug against his hips. Clicking the release and letting the material shrink back to the holder, he gives you a sideways glance before guiding your hand to the fly of his slacks.
“Are you gonna make me ask again?” He gruffly teases without any real bite behind it.
You keep your hand on his groin but lift up slightly to plant a small peck to his jaw with a ‘no~’ before undoing the button and letting the zipper down. Navy blue boxer briefs are stained with a dark patch and immediately push through the now open layer of his slacks; still confined in his underwear, his cockhead pries though the fly painfully.
It twitches a few times under your touch as you pinch the fabric around the elastic band to slide the material down just a few inches more; Kento lifts his hips to assist and the car speeds up as the pressure on the accelerator grows.
His cock is long, pushing 8 inches, with a fair thickness that remains from the base to the tip. Dirty blonde pubes fall in messy tufts along his navel and litter down to his swollen balls; his cockhead weeps pearls of precum from the pretty blushed slit [#e59d9d]. Nearly drooling at the image and your poor unstretched cunt clenching at the idea of it somehow fitting inside, Kento looks over with an undescernable expression on his face.
“I know I haven’t exactly kept up… appearances down there…” He quietly speaks, eyes on the road but foot letting up on the accelerator just a bit.
You smear some of the lubricant down his tip and push down on the throbbing engorged veins that run along the flesh. As if you would really care about the fact he hasn’t shaved in a minute, the man is the epitome of pure sex appeal. Plus there’s something about a man who hasn’t had any action in a while acting so desperate for you, that it’s even more of a turn on.
“I don’t mind in the slightest.”
Before he can protest again, you run your tongue flat across his slit and take in the salty taste of his arousal before letting long strings of saliva drip from your lips and coat his shaft. Tongue rutting against his frenulum a few times, you rub the mixture of pre cum and spit along his cock before guiding it into your mouth.
“O-Oh– fuck.”
One of his hands immediately leaves the wheel and finds purchase in your hair, partially pulling it out of your face and partially pushing your head down juuuust a little further.
The staggering number of inches can’t fit entirely in your mouth, so you take in what you can while one hand jerks off the rest with the same rhythm as the bob of your head while the other hand cups his balls. A few pubic strands tickle your nose as the occasional bump in the road causes you to reach a bit further down his length.
“Ngh– just like that.. Ah–”
Kento’s head is pushed back into the headrest of his seat while his hips slide further and twitch as you suck the soul from him. Each thrust of his pelvis to reach further in your throat is matched with a purr from the engine as the weight of his foot presses down on the gas further; the gusts of wind from outside aren't loud enough to drown out the groans that fall from his lips.
Your hair is still blowing in every direction and the gloss that once adorned your lips has now created a shiny smear of pink along his shaft. Jaw slightly aching, you slip him from your mouth and run the flat of your tongue over his head a few times before placing it in your wet palm and jerking off just the tip. Keeping your head lowered, each jerk of your wrist guides it up onto your awaiting tongue with rhythm.
After a few moments, and a substantial rest of your mouth, you pop him back between your lips and hollow your cheeks to suck him off once again. Kento’s thigh flex beneath you and a steady string of muffled curses fall from his lips before he tilts his head back once more.
“Ahh, close… fuck I’m close..”
Kento gnaws on his bottom lip and furrows his brows before applying the brakes and swerving to park on the side of the road. Far from the resort but still by the sandy coast, there’s not a single headlight or streetlight in view as he hastily puts the car in park and slides his seat back just a tad.
Both hands now on your head, one holding your hair and the other guiding your movements, he plants his feet on the car floor and begins fucking up into your mouth.
“Trying to make me fucking crash, huh? Acting all sweet with a filthy mouth” He groans out while jerking up an erratic rhythm.
Tears fall from your eyes at the lack of oxygen as the once gentleman has seemingly flipped a switch and has begun manhandling however he sees fit. “Mmfpgh-!”
“Haaa” he sarcastically coos above you. “So fucking good, knew it… ngh– the moment I saw your photo”
Kento continues mumbling a string of incoherent phrases until you feel the large vein running under his shaft throb a few times and he’s cumming hot ropes of semen down your throat. The consistency is a bit watery and slides down relatively easily with a sweet taste as he fists himself a few times when your lips pop off him to shoot a few more residual drops onto your face.
“Cumming! F-Fuck I’m cumming–”
It drips down your cheeks and slightly stains the fabric of his slacks as you swallow the load in your mouth and Kento breathes heavily. Wiping the corner of your lips and peering up at the man, his eyes are wired shut as a few beads of sweat slip down his temple and hot pants leave his open mouth.
Once he comes back to his senses, he sits upright and shuffles around in his seat to find a spare silk handkerchief and wipe along your face– gentle to not smudge anything.
“Sorry, I should’ve given you a proper warning.” His touch is soft, a complete 360 from seconds ago, and his voice is warm. Upon finishing cleaning you up, he lets you fix your hair before tapping your jaw and nudging you for a kiss.
It’s a strange exchange, though not an unwanted one. Despite just treating you like some cum slut and jerking up into your throat, he now plants lingering kisses against your lips and keeps his hand firmly on your thigh after he tucks himself back into his pants. Shutting the windows and placing your seat warmer on, he puts the Mercedes back into drive and begins the drive back to the resort with his touch still on you.
“Let me repay you, please.” He offers, eyes still dilated as his fingers pinch the exposed pieces of flesh your dress doesn’t cover.
You rub your hand along his knuckles and lean into your seat; nipples hardening under your dress and cunt weeping into the flimsy fabric of your panties.
“When you say ‘repay’, it makes it seem like I’m just a girl you hired.”
It’s harmless teasing at his wording, but Kento’s expression falls slightly and the grip on your thigh tightens almost possessively. “No. Never.”
You blink at him with a blush and look at your hands with fluster as he takes his hand from your leg for a moment to bring your palm to his lips and plant a few kisses before finding its spot back on your thigh.
The drive back to the resort is nearly tooth-rottingly sweet. Kento ensures, once again, that he wasn’t too rough on you and makes offers for future meetings before you’ve even finished this one. He tells you that the seminar going on happens every year at this location, and he’s come to learn a lot of good local spots. The best seafood restaurants, marine centers, and even the hours when the boardwalks aren’t too crowded; he offers to take you to all of them once his conference ends for the day during the week.
“I do have a few bachelorette activities to attend though” You remind him with a squeeze of his hand.
He frowns and gives a slight pout before clearing his throat and tilting his head. “Well, in the moments you are available, I’d be happy to have your company…. Or even after we go back home.”
The resort comes into view in the window and you turn to him with a smile. “Oh yea, the company you work for is by me– I nearly forgot Nobara mentioned that Itadori got hired there recently…”
Kento swallows slightly and the Adam’s apple in his throat bobs once as you continue talking. “She mentioned that he’s working as an intern in the finance department… Are you like his manager?”
He tilts his head and directs the car back into its reserved spot. “Sort of…I have a comfortable position as the head financial officer of the company.”
You nod at first and get ready to leave the car until the words actually seep into your mind. Wait.. CFO?! Of an international consulting company?! A company with a net worth in the billions. With a ‘B”?!?!
He slips out of his seat and walks around to your side to open the door while you attempt to act as casually as humanly possible that this man might have more money than the GDP of several nations combined. Slipping his hand behind the small of your back to guide you back to the entrance, he stops short and slips his hand naturally into yours when a familiar set of heads loiter by the valet stand.
“What do you meaaaan he’s not here? Aren’t you supposed to be in charge of this very thing?” Satoru’s voice reverberates as he whines against the podium at the underpaid employee.
Suguru sighs and shakes his head with a shrug while Itadori scrolls on his phone frantically reading text messages “Maybe he’s at the spa?”
The white haired man instantly snaps up and gives the younger man a pat on the back way too hard before dragging the two of them back through the lobby. “Come on everyone! We’re his only hope if this is gonna work!!”
Itadori is effectively yanked back into the building while Suguru lets himself be guided by Satoru as the three disappear out of sight. You and Kento wait an extra moment before their voices no longer echo before tepidly climbing the stairs and looking around once for good measures.
“Those idiots…” Kento grumbles, rubbing his face with a sturdy hand as he gently guides you to the elevators. “Oh, is it alright if I bring you to my suite…? I don’t mean to be so forward this soon but…” he dips down and tilts his lips to brush against your ear as the doors shut. “I’d just like to return the favor from earlier.”
You shiver and smile up at the man with a nod before letting him guide you to his hotel room… on the top floor…
Though the entire walk has a different feeling swirling in the back of your mind; specifically his attitude whenever Itadori comes into mention. You let it linger a bit more, walking into the suite and staring awestruck at how much larger his single room was compared to the one you, Maki, and Nobara were crammed into [without hotel knowledge of being over capacity].
The kitchenette area also had a sofa and television in the area before being cut with a partial wall for privacy of the king sized bed that laid on the other side. Large ceilings and warm lighting filled the room and you noticed the lack of suitcases– noting that Kento was the kind of man who fully unpacked into the drawers and closet when traveling.
He lets you admire the suite for a few moments, an entertained smile on his lips, as he re-rolls up his sleeves and turns the kettle on for tea and coffee. From your position standing in his bedroom area, you can see into the ensuite bathroom at the soft plush robes hanging above the large jacuzzi style bathtub. His hotel room is bigger than your entire apartment at home.
ON THE CORNER OF YOUR BED
“Is it to your liking?” he calls out, not hiding the teasing tone in his voice.
You come out of the bathroom and laugh before calling out for him to join you; he shuts off the kettle and immediately walks over. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and his arms around the small of your waist, you tilt your chin upwards and press your lips against his.
It’s slow and sweet at first, rocking against each other a few times before Kento is rubbing your hips bones with his thumbs and grinding another growing erection into your pelvis. Tongue slipping in, he brings a hand up to hold your chin steady as he explores your molars and refuses to break the connection until you’re clawing at him to be even closer.
The kiss breaks with a string of light saliva that snaps when he attempts to push your thighs against the bed; you stop him and spin to guide him to sit on top of the comforter. Kento doesn’t complain though, he lets himself be swayed by your touch and sits on the corner of the mattress with his hands on your waist and impatiently tugging you closer and your dress upwards.
Your hands steady his with a slight smirk on your lips. “Wait a moment–” he stops and looks up as you continue. “What was it that you mentioned earlier? Something about, ‘ever since I saw your picture’?”
Kento pauses and drags his dilated pupils away from your face to the corner of the room with a tense swallow. “I’m sure I’m misunderstanding you–”
“–And how tense you seem to act when Itadori is mentioned? I can always ask Nobara if there’s some sort of connection I’m missing here..”
You move to grab your phone but he immediately reaches out and stops you. “Wait.”
He gnaws his bottom lip and looks up at you with pleading eyes before sighing and pressing his forehead to the area just below your breast with a guilty expression.
“I may have seen you before, from Itadori’s social media… He was always on his phone during work when he first started a few months ago… so one time I looked over his shoulder to see what could be so important, when I noticed the most recent social media post pulled up happened to be Nobara’s profile image with you in it.”
… now that you think about it, there have been a few more rando empty accounts that started following you…
He rests his cheek into you and pulls his head upright with more confidence for the confession. “Well, Suguru and Satoru soon found out that I was…uh interested in you, and have been trying to hatch some scheme to get me to talk to you…”
You blink and comb his silky hair a few times before cupping his face with a coy look. “Why didn’t you just ask Itadori to have Nobara introduce us if you thought I was cute?”
He huffs and pouts slightly. “Asking my subordinate for his permission to date his mutual friend is hardly professional.”
‘Date’ isn’t a term either of you have mentioned yet, but now that it’s out there, you don’t want it taken back. Nodding in understanding, you trace his cheekbones and jaw before pressing your thumb on his lips while his hands still grasp and knead the flesh on your thighs and waist.
“And that photo– all my photos I have posted, what did you do with it?”
He pauses. Coughing slightly at the surprise and attempting to tilt his head down but being blocked by your hands.
“I don’t… I don’t know what you mean–”
“Kento.” You take a hand from his jaw and trace down his buttons to the bulge in his slacks and press. “What did you do with that photo of me?”
He groans slightly and twitches before locking eye contact with dilated pupils so large the irises are nearly hidden.
YOU COULD DO IT ON YOUR OWN
WHILE YOU'RE LOOKIN' AT ME
“I masturbated to it.”
“Show me.”
Slowly, without breaking his stare, he releases the fly of his slacks and shimmies them down to the floor before tugging the elastic of his boxer briefs down to his mid-thigh once more. You take a slight step to the side and tug his hand to your mouth and spit into his palm before guiding it back down to his throbbing erection. He presses a kiss to your lips and brings his saturated hand to pump his cock a few times.
He sets a steady rhythm and keeps his neck craned to look at you as he touches himself, groaning and panting as he takes in the real image and not one on a screen. You watch the erotic scene for a few moments before tilting down and planting a few open-mouthed kisses and bites along his neck and stepping away from bed.
“Don’t stop.” You order when he briefly pauses in confusion, and Kento immediately returns his pace.
Popping the buttons of his shirt, he lets you guide the material off him and to the floor, revealing a body sculpted from marble. Hefty pectoral muscles, soft but defined abs, and biceps that could probably lift a refrigerator are on display as he continues to pump himself.
It’s a view you could stare at for a lifetime, but you snap out of it and slowly slide the straps of your dress off your shoulders. The strip tease is done while entirely maintaining eye contact; when the satin material drops to the floor and you’re left braless in your dripping lace panties, Kento audibly groans.
“Fuck, baby… look even ngh– better than my imagination…”
You smile and snap the elastic band of your panties against your hip before sloooowly sliding it down one leg and then the other, showing your wet pretty pussy on full display. Kento’s hand speeds up, giving extra attention to his tip as you put on a slight show and pinch your own nipples and snake a hand down to rub a light circle to your clit.
“Please…” He huffs out, slowing his pace. “Don’t wanna cum if it’s not in that tight cunt.”
Kento rises to his feet and scoops you into his arms before tossing you back on the bed and kicking his underwear off the rest of the way. Laying flat against the plush mattress, you shimmy up to the pillow while he quickly climbs to hover over you and presses hard kisses into your lips with hunger.
His erection drips onto your navel pathetically as he grinds against you a few times; blonde pubes scratch your skin as he drags his cock up and down the mound of your pussy before lining up with your needy hole.
“Promise to haa– treat her right later, ‘kay baby? I’ll give her plenty of kisses later, I just.. Need to be inside you”
He’s talking to you about your own pussy before spitting down on his dick and teasing your entrance with the head a few times before slowly stretching you wide and sliding in.
Hands immediately digging into his shoulders, Kento waits a moment with peppered kisses along your temple as he gives a few shallow pumps to get you properly adjusted to the sheer girth. His knees splay your thighs a bit wider and one hand reaches to place a pillow below your hips before he sinks in steadily.
“Oh fuck– Kento!”
“I know baby, I know… just a bit more for me okay?” He presses his hips further in until his cockhead is kissing your cervix and his pubes are kissing your clit as he bottoms out. The sting of the stretch turns delicious as gives a few gentle strokes before snapping his hips up and forward into you.
Tits bouncing with each thrust, you hold onto him for dear life as he molds your pussy to the shape of his dick with each pump. Kento throws his head into the crook of your neck and nearly crushes you from the weight of his frame, but the close proximity creates perfect friction against your clit as his cock bullies against your cervix.
“Nghh.. feels so good– like you were made f’me…”
You toss your head back into the pillow and give him access to mark up your neck while his hips don’t relent. “Ahhh d-don’t say things like t-that unless you mean it…”
He takes a stronger bite to the throb of your pulse and gives a harsher snap of his hips. “I do.. Fuck– of course I mean it… ‘been thinking about you longer than you know…” he sits upright on his knees and pins your hands to your navel and bullies your pussy even more. “Made me so mad to think that the wedding might be for you… before I even had the chance to make you mine…”
You’re borderline drunk on his cock already, and he fairs no better above you with irises practically in the shape of hearts. Large hands keep your own pinned down as the room is filled with the wet squelches coming from where your bodies meet and the plap! of his balls smacking the flesh of your ass.
With the residual amount of coyness left, you bat your eyes up at him. “O-Oh yea? Nfgh– and what if I was getting married, huh?”
Kento furrows his brows and nearly snarls at the image of you with someone besides him– like the idea of another person getting to fuck your perfect pussy was blasphemy.
He jerks his hips up to rut against your g-spot and groans as you clench around him. “It would be w-wrong but… fuck so tight– I’d still… still try and make a move…”
One of the hands that pins down your own snakes to the plush area below your navel, right above where his cock drills into you from the inside. He pushes down. “Haaaa… imagine if I could have you like this, b-but you were already engaged…? God, I'd at least wanna– wanna send you down the aisle knocked up with my kid.”
Your eyes practically roll back into your skull as he snakes that hand down further to rub circles on your swollen clit while his tip grinds against your g-spot over and over again. Toes circling and voice wavering into a high pitch, you screw your eyes shut and feel your orgasm slam into you.
The sound between your bodies is nearly palpable from how wet you’ve become and Kento releases his upright position to hover back over you and increase his own pace. Mind going numb from the aftershocks, he pulls out partially to fuck his tip in and out at an erratic pace before slamming back in and twitching as he cums.
Hot semen pours out with each weakened snap of his hips as he fills your pussy up with his seed and keeps your bodies connected even after he’s finished cumming. A cream ring around his shaft and smeared on his pubes, and semi-opaque cum dribbling from your cunt and onto the sheets, Kento winces as he pulls out his softening erection.
You keep your gaze on the ceiling for a moment as you catch your breath and wipe the few drops of sweat that fell from Kento’s face onto your chest in the moment. His gaze lingers on the way his semen slowly begins to drip from your pussy with an indiscernible face, before he’s sitting upright and guiding you to rest against him.
“Ah, sorry. That was…. A bit much, maybe?” he sheepishly coughs out while rubbing a warm hand on your shoulder.
“No, it was really nice– you were amazing.”
He pauses at the compliment, but you simply offer a smile and plant a quick peck to his cheekbone while wondering what the move was now.
He had mentioned something about dating earlier…. But does the post-nut clarity change anything..?
Before you can dwell on it too long, he rises from the bed and gives your hair a quick comb with his fingers and tilts his head for the bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yea?”
The marble tilted floors are cold against your feet as Kento reaches over the tub to start the warm water; he helps you climb in and takes a spot next to you in the large jacuzzi as the jets slowly push bubbles around the surface.
Each action is soft and sweet, as if he wasn’t just rearranging your guts and threatening to get you pregnant just moments ago. He passes the soap, rubs your shoulders, and lets you play with his hair when you offer to assist in applying shampoo.
That is, until he guides you to sit in his lap because ‘it offers a better position for relaxing the muscles’, and when he drags his hands over your breasts because ‘it’s important to get them routinely checked’.
Not that you mind it, the heat between your legs getting warmer as his hands work their way down further and his lips plant a variety of kisses and bites to the flesh on your shoulders. When his hands hover just above your cunt once more, and a new erection now growing behind you, he stops short as if it pained him to not continue. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about this..”
Your heart drops for a moment– he’s a man richer than you can imagine and drives a car worth more than your annual salary… he’s probably got tons of women like this on the side. Mentally scolding yourself for thinking that he would actually want something more than a one night stand, Kento nudges your face to the side in order to get a better glimpse at your expression.
“Whatever is running through that mind of yours, please stop it.” He traces the curve of your jaw and taps your pulse point underneath. “I want to do this again, but– forgive my ‘old fashioned’ opinion– the right way.”
He pauses a moment, nearly nervous. “On a date. I’d still like your company during this weekend if you’re not busy, but maybe when we return home I can take you to dinner sometime? It would be nice to actually go on a date if we’re going to be dating.”
…
He’s so painfully forward that it actually turns you on more.
Blinking a few times and bashfully shrugging– as if you really had to think about it– you lean closer and smile up at him.
“I’d like that. My only request…”
He sucks in a still breath, ready for you to put some sort of cap on the amount of times he can see you, or the amount of gifts he’d like to order to your house, or–
You laugh at his worry and guide his hand further to right above your clit. “Is that you pick me up in your sports car each time.”
NO, YOU AIN’T NO MRS.
OH, BUT YOU GOT A SPORTS CAR!
ok I DID NOT mean for this to be so long, i just think it's borderline impossible for me to write smut without a plotline idk why
sorry it's so dayum long, but hopefully you pookies liked it!
-> next post should hopefully be CKNF or a small headcanon
also im obsessed with this song currently and Kento fits sooo nicely... though I was also debating writing this for Higuruma instead!
For whatever reason you’re here, knowing survival skills can save your life or your character’s life (especially for those writers out there that are researching this topic).
Basic Rules If You Are Lost And Alone In The Wilderness
Basic Wilderness Survival Skills
Celestial Navigation & Land Navigation - Navigation without a Compass
Finding True North Without a Compass
Telling Time Without A Clock: Scandinavian Daymarks
Wilderness Survival - Field-Expedient Direction Finding
Wilderness Survival - Contact With People
Wilderness Survival - Clouds: Foretellers Of Weather
Wilderness Survival - Camouflage
Wilderness Survival - Sea Survival
Wilderness Survival - Cold Weather Survival
Wilderness Survival - Tropical Survival
Wilderness Survival - Desert Survival
Wilderness Survival - Field-Expedient Weapons, Tools, And Equipment
Wilderness Survival - Psychology of Survival
Wilderness Survival - Signaling Techniques
Morse Code
The Survivalist - Survival Gear: Make Your Own Signal Whistle
The Survivalist - Survival Skills: Signal Whistle Codes
The Survivalist - Survival Gear: How To Make A Compass
The Survivalist - Survival Skills: Folk Wisdom Weather Predictors
The Survivalist - How To Make Rope From Natural Fibers
The Survivalist - Tying Knots That Work
The Survivalist - More Knots That Work
The Survivalist - How To Make Your Own Tick And Bug Repellent
The Survivalist - How To Make A Toothbrush In The Field
The Survivalist - Insulate You Clothes To Survive The Cold
The Survivalist - Survival Skills: Find Natural Toilet Paper
Going To The Bathroom In The Woods 101
How To Go In The Woods
Plants That Repel Mosquitoes
One Green Planet - DIY Natural Insect Repellent
Preventing Bug Bites In The Woods
Homemade Natural Bug Spray Recipes
Bushcraft Camp Hygiene
Wilderness Hygiene
Preparing For Your First Year Trip — Wilderness Living
Camping and Cramping: How To Handle Your Period While You Enjoy The Great Outdoors
Hiking While Menstruating?
What Did Women Use For Menstruation In Europe and America From 1700 - 1900, And Probably Earlier?
Menstruation, Menstrual Hygiene and Woman’s Health in Ancient Egypt
writing isn't real life. You don't need to set up a character walking into a room or two characters greeting each other and talking about the weather or what-have-you in order to lead into the conversation you actually want them to have. just start at the conversation.
hell, start in the middle of the conversation. you could even start at the end and then have one of them leave and the other one left behind to reflect back on what just happened.
writing gets easier when you open yourself up to writing the parts that are interesting, to starting where it's easy instead of where you think you should start.
if it ends up not working? that's okay. you tried it, and sometimes just getting something out of your head is a necessary first step to getting the words right
Piece of advice I've often been given (but don't necessarily agree with broadly) is "if you're bored, the reader's bored", so while I don't think you should use your personal interests singly as the driving force behind what appears on the page, I *do* think this is very useful first draft advice. Write what intrigues you. Write what excites you. Then, when your beta readers or agent or best friend tells you they feel like something's missing, go back and fill in the parts that are needed to connect the dots. But don't think "this filler is always there, so I must write it!" because I PROMISE you will end up with way more than you need and everyone will be bored, including you.
I hate how physical touch as a love language gets mistaken as just sex. It's so much more than that and so much less at the same time. Like just snuggling or sitting next to them and laying on them, and having them trace circles on your arm just because it feels nice, or to have their fingers run through your hair, lightly scratching your scalp, or tracing their fingers along your neck because it gives you those wonderful goosebumps with how good it feels. It's putting your feet on their legs and holding their hand and taking really long, warm hugs and sitting on their lap and them giving you little massages because holy crap it feels so wonderful and I live for those goosebumps. Oh my goodness non-sexual physical touch as a love language.
Summary: When Spencer Reid finally succumbs to technology and gets a smartphone, he takes a tentative step into the digital world by sending his best friend (and colleague) Y/N a picture. What starts as an innocent attempt to embrace modern tech leaves Y/N flustered as the seemingly innocent gesture forces her to confront feelings she’s been ignoring for years. Neither of them is prepared for the powerful impact of a single, innocent photo as the lines between friendship and something more start to blur.
(AKA Spencer sends the above selfie and reader gets horny because his hand is quite literally swallowing the phone HAHAHA)
CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Hand kink/fixation. Overstimulation. Oral (both m and f receiving). Fingering. Unprotected sex/P in V sex (do as I say not as I do and STAY PROTECTED IRL!!). Dirty talk/praise kink. Softdom!Spencer and bratty!sub!reader. Some religious phrasing (because who are fanfic writers really without it?) Pull-out method used (again, do as I say not as I do!!) Very brief mention of a sex toy (doesn't get used). Fluffy smut. Two idiots in love/best friends to lovers trope. <3
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader/afab!reader
A/N: This is my humble contribution to the Spencer Reid hand kink supremacy (no but seriously how are his hands THAT attractive??). This is kinda sorta an AU I guess because I wrote this with season four Reid in mind but I'm not sure (and Google will not give me a clear answer) if that type of iPhone was around then so let's just pretend it was for the sake of the fic pls. :') Also the "Sincerely, Spencer Reid" was a direct nod to B99's very own Raymond Holt because I could definitely see him and Spence handling tech the same way LMAO. As always, please tell me what you think! :) If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends! <3 Thank you and I love you all :) (I also ask that my work not be uploaded to other platforms or translated without my explicit permission. Thank you!)
Am I doing this selfie thing right? Sincerely, Spencer Reid
The screen felt almost blinding in the dim lighting of Y/N's bedroom as she stared slack-jawed at the image open on her phone.
Spencer finally upgraded to a smartphone a week ago after an unfortunate crash to the ground (stupid raised sidewalk) shattered the old flip phone that had long ago earned him the nickname "Grandpa" from his pain-in-the-ass-loving best friend. Y/N had never seen a man so devastated over losing what was essentially a brick that made calls, so to cheer him up, she helped him pick out a new phone and set it up.
She was beginning to regret that decision as she gawked at the selfie Spencer had sent.
It was sweet—an innocent photo of him sitting in his car, just after finishing the paperwork he’d insisted on handling alone, despite her offers to help. He'd banished her to her apartment, as stubborn as ever. The shot was taken in his rearview mirror, a faint grin tugging at his lips, his maple-toned eyes obscured by the phone. There was nothing about the image that should have made her pulse quicken. But when the realization hit her, a rush of warmth flooded her face.
It was his hand.
His hand seemed almost too big for the phone, dwarfing it as he snapped the picture. It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed how large his hands were—everyone did—but she’d never given it much thought. Until now. Watching the way his fingers effortlessly swallowed the device, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. There was something about the sheer size of his hand, the way it seemed to overpower the phone, that made her suddenly hyper-aware of every detail.
His fingers were long, elegant, and well-cared-for; fingers that seemed capable of touching parts of her she'd never been able to reach on her own—
No. No, no, no. There was absolutely no way she was having these thoughts about Spencer Reid. Spencer, her endearingly awkward best friend of four years. Her rock. Her partner in the field. The man she’d always thought of as just that—nothing more. Well...
Y/N did have a crush on him once, in the earliest stages of their friendship. But it was just a small, silly, unreciprocated crush that she locked away in the deepest parts of her subconscious so that she could at least still be his friend. She accepted that it would never happen and moved on. Or she thought she had...
A muffled curse leaves Y/N's lips as she realizes she never responded, her thumbs hovering over the keyboard as she struggles to think of a response. Since when has she ever struggled to talk to Spencer? Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with her tonight? Was she ovulating?
Y/N: Next time, show off those pretty brown eyes of yours and you've got it down pat :)
Okay... That sounded way flirtier than she intended... But that's how they usually joked with each other, right? She was just overthinking everything because she was exhausted from their most recent case. That's it.
Y/N: Also... why have you not put your phone case on yet?? You're practically begging for another sidewalk incident to happen, Grandpa.
That's better. That feels normal.
She sets her phone down on her nightstand, picking up her abandoned book to continue reading. Y/N's heart rate is almost back to normal when her phone's ringtone blaring startles her, the book falling to her lap with a muted thud. An annoyed groan rumbles in her throat as she reaches over to grab the device, internally praying it wasn't Hotch calling with another case. They had JUST gotten back from Ohio not even six hours ago and she just wanted to rest—
To her surprise, it was Spencer calling.
"It's awfully late for you to be calling, Grandpa," Y/N drawled as she answered the call, her lips curling up into a grin as she heard Spencer scoff on the other line. "Shouldn't you be in bed by now?"
"I am in bed," Spencer grumbled in response, and she could hear some shuffling as he got comfortable. "And I put the case on right after I sent the selfie, thank you very much. Speaking of, did you know that the origin of selfies was actually believed to be..."
Spencer launched into a thorough explanation of not only the origins of selfies but also a detailed account of why self-portraits came about. Y/N hung onto every word, just as she always did when he spoke. Most people found his rambling to be annoying, but not her. She thought it was fascinating how much information he kept tucked away in that brain of his and was more than willing to listen and ask questions about anything he blurted out.
The conversation stretches on for another hour, neither of them wanting to be the one to end it. It’s not until the fifth yawn escapes Spencer that Y/N finally chuckles into the phone before reluctantly saying goodnight. Spencer’s voice is warm as he wishes her sweet dreams, and the call ends with the soft beep of disconnecting. And, for the first time in a long while, sweet dreams she did have…
"Does that feel good? Hm, pretty girl?" Spencer murmured into her ear as she writhed between his spread legs, her bare back pressed flush to his clothed chest.
The night had started with celebratory drinks after finally closing one of their more grueling cases, the team getting some much-needed relaxation and bonding in. Spencer was Y/N's designated driver as per usual since he didn't drink, instead choosing to nurse a soda as he eyed Y/N down from across the booth.
He was directly across from her, snugly between Derek and Hotch. But he wasn't paying attention to them. His eyes had been fixated on her from the moment she'd come back from the bar with Emily and Penelope, tracing the contours of her flushed face as she tipped her head back and took another shot.
Y/N had no intentions of getting completely drunk, instead choosing to remain just tipsy enough to enjoy the warmth that flowed through her body from the alcohol and maintain a steady buzz. That way she could be aware of her surroundings while also enjoying herself and the company of her team.
The bar was dim, the pounding of her heartbeat matching the beat of the music bumping overhead as her gaze fell on Spencer. Her brows furrowed at the unabashedly hungry look in his eyes, her tongue poking out to wet her lips subconsciously. She had to have been hallucinating. There was no way he'd be looking at her like that... right?
But he had been. And that same look is exactly what led them to where they were now, with Spencer propped up against her headboard holding her at his mercy while his fingers pumped tirelessly into her drenched pussy. She was sure the sight of them was downright filthy, an erotic contrast of her completely bare body pressed against his fully clothed one.
Y/N was in shambles, her legs trembling as her nails dug uselessly into his thighs while soft whimpers and moans flowed freely from her kiss-swollen lips. Her mind was reeling, a dizzying mixture of the remaining alcohol in her system, the pleasure coiling tightly in her lower stomach, and the knowledge that it was Spencer causing said pleasure.
She was so, so close... just a few more strokes of his fingers and...
A sharp gasp sounded through the bedroom as Y/N jolted awake, her chest heaving as she shakily sat up to turn off her alarm. She blinked hard, attempting to clear the fog from her vision as she fell back into her pillows. The dull aching between her thighs served as a sore reminder of what she was so close to achieving in her dream...
Her eyes snapped open as the memory of the dream hit her like a tidal wave. Guilt, confusion, and sheer horror crashed over her, and she groaned, her hands dragging down her face in frustrated disbelief. She’d just had a dream—a wet dream—about Spencer Fucking Reid.
What had gotten into her?
Before she could dive too deep into why her crush on Spencer had apparently resurfaced with a vengeance after being dormant for so long, her phone dinged with a message from the genius himself. It felt like the universe was rubbing salt in the wound, taunting her for the forbidden thoughts she couldn’t seem to shake about her best friend.
Spence <3: Are you going to get coffee? Sincerely, Spencer Reid
Y/N snorted out a laugh at how he signed his text, shaking her head as she responded.
Y/N: ... Spence, you don't have to sign your name on each text. I have your number saved. And yes, I am :)
A minute passes before his response comes through.
Spence <3: Oh. Well then, can you also bring me coffee please?
Y/N: Of course I can <3
Her earlier guilt lingers in the pit of her stomach as she sets the phone down, rolling out of bed with a sigh to begin getting ready for work. How was she going to face him after having a dream like that? Maybe it was a fluke; a one-off occurrence manifested from her lack of sexual endeavors so her brain had no choice but to use Spencer as a fill-in for her fantasies.
Opting to pretend it never happened so she could face her best friend later, Y/N finished getting ready and left for the café, determined to get there on time for work.
The elevator dinged as Y/N strolled into the bullpen, her and Spencer's usual orders in hand and a soft smile on her face. Thankfully, today was a paperwork day—a task most of the team dreaded, but one Y/N welcomed. It gave her a chance to recover from the constant motion sickness from the jet and the relentless flirtations of the officers when they worked cases out of state.
"Mm, my very own coffee fairy!" Spencer grinned, setting down the stack of papers he’d been poring over. His eyes sparkled as she made her way across the room, finally meeting his gaze from across the desk as she stopped in front of him. "Have I ever told you you're the best?"
"Yes, you have," Y/N teased with a playful grin, holding out his coffee. "But I don’t mind hearing it more often."
Her dream, it seemed, hadn’t been a fluke, a realization that hits her as Spencer grabs his coffee. Her eyes involuntarily track the way his fingers curl around the Styrofoam cup, and a shiver runs up her spine when they inadvertently brush against hers. Her cheeks flush as she quickly pulls her gaze away, meeting his curious eyes instead.
"You feeling okay, Y/N? You look a little flushed," Spencer murmured, his brow furrowed in concern as he eyed her over the rim of his cup.
Y/N blinked, her heart pounding in her throat as she swallowed and nodded. The sight had sent her mind reeling, the memory of those same fingers buried deep inside of her in her dream the night before surfacing against her will.
"Y-yeah. Yeah, I'm fine I just-"
Before Y/N could finish stammering out her lame excuse, Morgan sauntered into the bullpen with Garcia, the pair immediately honing in on her and Spencer as they made their way over.
"Oh, c'mon Y/N! Seriously? Pretty boy here gets a coffee but the rest of us don't?" Morgan taunted, chuckling as Y/N reached out to playfully swat at his arm with an eye roll.
"Well obviously! He's her work husband," Penelope chimed in matter-of-factly, giggling as she wiggled her eyebrows. "It would mean a divorce was brewing if she didn't."
The team had started the joke years ago, teasing her and Spencer for being the youngest members and for how quickly they’d clicked. To everyone else, it was obvious their friendship ran deeper than either of the two realized. The problem was that neither one of them could see it. Some profilers they were.
No matter how many times the joke was made, Spencer’s face still turned bright red every single time.
"Har dee har har," Spencer scoffed, his eyes shifting to the cup still gripped in his hand.
The banter was cut short as Hotch stepped out of his office, everyone mumbling their goodbyes and scurrying back to their desks to get their work done. Y/N welcomed the distraction with open arms, diving into her work to try to get her mind off of her conflicted feelings towards her best friend.
All day long, Y/N fought the growing urge to watch Spencer’s hands, but it was impossible to ignore. Her eyes were drawn to the way his fingers traced the edge of a case file as he analyzed it, or how they drummed a steady rhythm on his desk, each tap somehow amplifying the tension she was trying to suppress.
Her breaking point came when the team was wrapping up for the day. Spencer, eager to show off, insisted on demonstrating a new cardistry trick he’d learned. The rest of the team gathered around, and Y/N felt herself drawn in, unable to look away. Her eyes locked on his fingers as he deftly manipulated the cards, the muscles in his hands flexing with each smooth, controlled movement. She barely registered her open mouth or the way her pulse quickened—every part of her attention was on him.
Y/N was jolted back to reality when Emily nudged her, a raised eyebrow full of amusement as the rest of the team cheered and complimented Spencer on his newly acquired skill. Rather than meet Emily’s knowing look, Y/N quickly murmured her praise for Spencer, then hastily made her exit, claiming she needed to hit a store before it closed.
If she thought that day was bad, the next few weeks were hell.
The BAU had two back-to-back cases, leaving them no time to rest as they flew straight from Tennessee to Arizona. The dry heat seemed to make Spencer restless—constantly running his fingers through his hair, fidgeting with his watch, or rolling up his sleeves. Meanwhile, Y/N felt her sanity slipping away, her thoughts unraveling as she stumbled over her words or completely lost track of what she was saying—because she couldn’t stop staring at those goddamned hands.
Spencer wasn’t blind to the shift in her behavior. He’d noticed how she started to occupy herself with something whenever he entered the room, or how she became increasingly uneasy around him—spinning the rings on her fingers, tugging at the necklace he'd given her for her last birthday, or even finding reasons to leave the room entirely the moment he stepped in.
Y/N's usual teasing had begun to feel hollow, and the familiar touches she used to give him—guiding him gently by the hand, rubbing his shoulder when frustration set in, or planting an exaggerated kiss on his cheek before leaving—had completely disappeared.
He felt gutted, unable to think of a single reason for Y/N's sudden distance. The uncertainty gnawed at him, twisting his stomach with worry. What if she was tired of him? Or worse… what if she had finally seen through his feelings for her and was repulsed by them?
When the team wrapped up in Arizona and boarded the jet home, Spencer made up his mind.
After Y/N chose to sit next to Emily instead of her usual spot beside him, he couldn’t take it anymore. The not knowing was eating at him, and more than anything… he missed her. She was the one person who saw him for who he truly was, the one who understood him better than he understood himself. The one who brought him solace during the toughest cases and reminded him why he kept going. The thought of losing her was unbearable, and he promised himself he’d do whatever it took to fix whatever had gone wrong.
As soon as the jet touched down in Quantico, Y/N quickly muttered her goodbyes and made a beeline for the parking garage. Finally, she was free. Free to go home, shut herself off, and stop behaving like a complete mess around Spencer. She hated how distant she’d been, but she couldn’t help it. The weight of her obsessive thoughts about him and the feelings she’d tried to bury for so long had completely overridden her rational thoughts, leaving her acting out of control.
Fingers closed around her upper arm just inches from her car, and a sharp yelp escaped her lips. She spun around, startled, to find an equally surprised Spencer standing there. She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she hadn't heard him following her.
"Jesus, Grandpa! Make an announcement before you sneak up on people!" Y/N complained loudly, turning away from him to unlock her car and toss her go bag into the backseat.
Spencer couldn't help but feel some relief at the nickname, a surge of hope coursing through him. Grandpa. She hadn't called him that in almost two weeks. He cleared his throat, holding onto his courage as he finally addressed her recent behavior.
"Sorry! Sorry, I just— I wanted to make sure we were okay? I’ve noticed you’ve been acting… not like yourself lately. Not that I’m calling you weird or anything—"
Y/N's heart broke at the nervous rambling spewing from his lips as he stood before her, tucked into himself and fidgeting with his hands as he tried to speak. God, she was such an asshole.
"Spence," Y/N murmured, gently interrupting him before letting out a soft sigh. "I promise, we're fine. I’m sorry if I’ve seemed distant. It’s just… I’ve been so stressed with the cases, and compartmentalizing has been harder than usual. I guess I didn’t want to drag you into it. I’m really sorry."
It wasn't necessarily a lie. She really had been stressed and struggling with compartmentalizing... just not because of their job.
Spencer’s shoulders relaxed, his tense expression softening into one of understanding. “You know I’m always here for you, right? You don’t have to carry that burden alone. I’d much rather you let me in than struggle with it on your own."
Scratch that. She wasn't just an asshole. She was the biggest asshole in the world for making him feel the way he had.
"I know that. I really do," Y/N murmured, her fingers nervously playing with her lip. "It's just… I get way too independent sometimes." She sighed, then brightened. "How about this? Tomorrow’s our first Saturday off in over a month… Why don’t you come over and we can do a movie marathon? We could use some good 'work spouse' bonding, don’t you think?"
Spencer’s smile stretched across his face, his voice a little more eager than usual and his cheeks flushed. "Yeah, I'd, uh... I'd love that. Let's do it."
Y/N returned his grin, her heart fluttering from how excited he looked. Relief flooded through her veins as he agreed to her plans, not realizing how much she had truly missed him the past few weeks since she'd been so focused on trying not to gawk at him every five minutes.
"Perfect. It’s a date,” Y/N teased, her smile widening. “Now, get in. I’m not letting you take the train back this late."
"What? Isn't this what you wanted, sweetheart?" Spencer crooned into her ear, tightening his hold around her wrists as he kept them pinned above her head.
Another frustrated whine left her lips as she tugged uselessly against his hold, but they both knew she didn't actually want to slip free. One of his hands was wrapped tightly around both of her wrists, his other tracing maddeningly up and down her side.
"Or did you want Officer Davidson's hands on you instead?" His tone was taunting, a hint of jealousy tainting his words as he tightened his grip.
The moment they stepped into their shared hotel room after leaving the precinct, Spencer was all over her. She’d noticed the heated glares he shot her way while she stood across the room, wearing a bored expression as Officer Davidson repeatedly (and unsuccessfully) tried to flirt with her.
They hadn't announced their new relationship status to the team yet per Spencer's insistence, but it was obvious from the intensity in Spencer’s eyes that he wanted to shout it to the world now. The way he glared at Davidson made it clear he was ready to stake his claim, watching the officer eye her like prey.
Now they were here, with Spencer hellbent on making sure she understood that she was his.
Y/N shook her head, looking up at Spencer pleadingly as she tilted her hips up in search of his. "No, never. Only want you, Spence."
A dark chuckle escaped him as he smirked down at her, his hand, which had been trailing along her side, now cupping her chin. His fingers gently squeezed her cheeks, coaxing her lips into a pout.
"Only me? Is that right, sweet girl?" Spencer cooed, loosening his grip to press on her bottom lip with his thumb before sliding the digit into her mouth. "Because it sure looked like you were enjoying his attention."
The flushed head of his cock teased her entrance, pressing between her folds as his hips slowly rocked back and forth, prolonging her teasing instead of giving her what she wanted. She groaned around his thumb, sucking the digit further into her mouth and holding his gaze in an effort to tempt him into finally fucking her instead of just grinding against her.
A soft hiss fell from his lips as his gaze darkened. He shifted his weight above her, keeping her wrists clasped in his hand and shoving them into the mattress as he began to rut against her harder. Her sharp gasp sounded through the air as he angled his hips up, the tip of his cock dipping into her deliciously before he halted his movements, keeping only a few inches inside of her.
Y/N writhed beneath him, whimpering her protests around his thumb as her jaw slackened, muffled pleas spilling from her lips as she began to beg uselessly for him to just fuck her already.
Spencer pressed down on her tongue with his thumb, a grunt escaping him before he yanked his thumb out of her mouth, using the hand to pin her down instead.
"Be still—"
Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, the harsh light of morning pouring through her curtains, and she let out a disgruntled groan as she blindly searched for her phone on the nightstand. After weeks of peaceful, dreamless sleep, of course she would dream about Spencer the night before their hangout. Wait—
Y/N sat up abruptly, unlocking her phone to check the time, only to notice a message waiting for her on the lock screen.
Spence <3: I’ll be there in an hour with a surprise.
Sent twenty-three minutes ago.
Fuck. She'd completely forgotten to set an alarm to get ready for their movie marathon, despite being the one who had suggested it in the first place. Whatever brain cells that photo had scrambled in her brain needed to get a grip so she could function on a level above Neanderthal.
Y/N: Surprise? You spoil me, old man. I'll see you then :)
Y/N exhaled wearily, rolling out of bed and dragging her feet across the plush carpet. She shuffled over to her dresser, picking out an outfit consisting of black yoga pants and an old band tee before heading to the bathroom for a cold shower. Maybe it would clear her head—or at least get rid of the incessant aching between her thighs. It worked on men, right?
One miserable shower and a change of clothes later, Y/N finally managed to clear some of the fog clouding her mind. She darted around her apartment, tidying up in a flurry before Spencer arrived. Moving between the kitchen and the living room, she gathered everything for their movie marathon: a pile of 90's slasher films spread out on the coffee table, her biggest throw blanket draped across the sectional, and a bag of popcorn popping away in the microwave.
Spencer's signature knock rang through the apartment at the same time the microwave started beeping, signaling that the popcorn was done.
"Coming!" Y/N shouted from the kitchen, opening the microwave door so it wouldn't repeat the shrill noise before making her way to the front door.
She swings it open with an excited grin, her gaze immediately dropping to the bag in Spencer's hand. She beckons for Spencer to come in, trying to sneak a peek at what was in the slightly crinkled paper bag.
"Geez, don't look too excited to see me," Spencer chuckled, following Y/N into her kitchen.
She waved dismissively, laughing softly as she grabbed the bag of popcorn and a bowl to pour it into. Spencer sat the bag on the counter, finally revealing its contents as he pulled out a tub of ice cream and some sour gummy worms.
"A man after my own heart!" Y/N gasped with an exaggerated swoon, cackling as Spencer swatted at her playfully.
"You said you were stressed, and I know you’ve got a sweet tooth just like me, so I figured it’d be perfect for our movie marathon," Spencer said with a shrug, the faintest blush creeping up his neck.
That kind of thoughtful behavior was just another reason her emotions had been in turmoil for the past few weeks. The selfie had opened a door to a spiral of introspection, one that made her revisit every moment they’d shared. She had always known their friendship straddled the line between platonic and something more, but she’d convinced herself it was simply because they were so comfortable with one another. It wasn’t until now that she began to wonder if those boundaries had been blurred intentionally — if, deep down, they both had wanted more all along.
The movie marathon kicked off after a bit of grumbling from Spencer, who finally gave in to watching the cheesy slasher films he’d insisted were beneath him. A few awkward moments of shifting on the couch later, they settled into a comfortable spot—Y/N tucked into his side, both of them with snacks in their laps and the throw blanket wrapped around them, ready to dive into the horror-filled lineup.
As they settled into the movie, Spencer’s gaze lingered on Y/N for a moment too long. He noticed the drip of vanilla ice cream at the corner of her mouth, the sight causing an unwelcome tightness in his pants. Before he could stop himself, he reached over. His thumb gently swiped the sugary trail now pooling along her lower lip, a soft swipe that left his hand lingering a fraction of a second longer than necessary.
"Here, you've got a little..."
The words died in his throat as her lips wrapped around his thumb, both of their eyes widening as their gaze met.
In that moment, everything fell into place for Spencer. It wasn’t stress that had been driving her distant behavior—he realized with a sudden jolt—it was something else entirely. The way she'd been pulling away, the tension between them… it wasn’t just exhaustion or anxiety. No, it was something far more complicated. It was desire.
Y/N jerked backward, nearly sending all of their precariously placed snacks to the floor as her face burned with embarrassment. "Oh, my God I- I'm so sorry Spence," she stammered, her words tripping over each other. "I have no idea why I did that-"
"Y/N."
Spencer cut her off with a hushed murmur of her name, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stopped her nervous rambling.
"It's okay. I-I liked it," Spencer reassured her softly.
Y/N stared at him, dumbfounded.
"What?"
"I liked it."
Spencer repeated himself surely, but the tremble in his voice gave away the fact that his brave front was exactly that: a front.
"I—" He hesitated, a heavy sigh escaping him. His hands fumbled with the snacks for a moment, setting them carefully on the coffee table as if buying time. He finally turned to face her fully, the weight of his words settling in. "Y/N… I've been in love with you since the moment I met you. I never said anything because I was scared… scared you wouldn’t feel the same. And after everything these past few weeks, with you pulling away, I thought maybe you’d figured it out and hated me for it. But… maybe I was wrong. Maybe you actually feel the same way I do..."
Y/N’s mouth parted in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something—anything—but the words just wouldn’t come. Spencer loved her. He always had. And she had spent all this time convincing herself her feelings were one-sided, certain he couldn’t possibly feel the same way.
Spencer's voice wavered as he spoke, his eyes searching hers with a quiet intensity. "Please, tell me I was wrong. Tell me you feel the same." His words hung in the air, and he held his breath, waiting, afraid that his confession might have been the thing to push her away for good.
The raw vulnerability in his voice broke through the fog in her mind, and without thinking, she nodded quickly, the words tumbling from her lips before she could stop them.
"Yes! Yes, Spence, I feel the same way," she breathed, her voice shaky as she looked up at him, eyes wide with a mix of relief and disbelief. "I always have… I just… I convinced myself it was impossible. I never thought you could feel the same."
A soft laugh escaped him, his grin widening as he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. "How could I not, Y/N?" he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "You’re everything to me. You’re the reason I started believing in soulmates… because I know I’ll never find anyone more perfectly made for me than you. You’re it. Always have been."
Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, her eyes welling up involuntarily. No one had ever spoken to her with such reverence, and in that moment, she realized she held him in the same regard. But where Spencer's words were so effortlessly beautiful, hers often fell short. So, instead of trying to find the right ones, she chose to show him just how deeply he mattered to her.
Within seconds, her lips were on his, her hands gently cradling his face as she pulled him closer. Spencer surrendered to the kiss, his hands sliding to her waist, mirroring her movements and pulling her in.
It started as a slow, hesitant kiss that rapidly devolved into something more desperate as the weight of years of silent longing melted away between them. What Y/N couldn't articulate into words she poured into touch, threading her trembling fingers into his soft hair and tugging, urging him to hover over her as she laid back against the couch. Her lips moved against his fiercely, trying to convey the silent message that she was just as in love with him as he was with her.
The movie had long since faded into the background, its faint dialogue and sporadic screams now an odd soundtrack blending with the muffled whimpers and soft pants that filled the space between them as their hands began to roam. Spencer's hips were nestled between hers, unmoving and stiff as he tried not to mindlessly hump against her like an animal in heat.
Y/N noticed Spencer's rigidness, breaking the kiss to look up at him with a furrowed brow. "What's wrong?" She breathed out, propping up on her elbows and brushing their noses together. "Are we moving too fast? We can stop if you want, I-I'm sorry—"
"No!" Spencer borderline shouted in his haste to ease the insecurity he saw creeping into her eyes, his face flushing as he cleared his throat. "No, no that's not it at all. I just, um... I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I wasn't sure how far you wanted this to go."
Y/N’s shoulders relaxed, a small frown giving way to a playful smirk. She idly twisted the loose curls at the nape of his neck between her fingers, her gaze locking with his.
"I want you, Spence. All of you. If that's what you want, too."
Spencer's nod was immediate, his forehead almost knocking into hers, causing her to laugh at his eagerness. "God, yes. I want that, so much. I want you so much."
Y/N grinned as she tilted her head to brush their lips together, landing a chaste kiss on his mouth before she tugged him down, leaning forward to whisper into his ear. "Yeah? You wanna fuck me, Spence?"
He inhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes fluttering shut as his head fell into the crook of her neck. If he were younger, he probably would have just cum in his pants from her words alone. But he was a man now. A barely composed man who was dizzy from the intoxicating scent of her perfume crowding his nose and the most painful erection he's had since puberty straining against his slacks.
"Such a crude mouth you have," Spencer murmured in feigned disappointment, shaking his head before pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses to the skin of her neck. "Maybe I should fill it up until you learn some manners, hm?"
He traced the fingers of his right hand up her side as he pulled back enough to look into her eyes, his left hand pressed into the cushions to keep him from laying all his body weight onto her. He'd caught her lingering glances at his hands throughout the last few weeks. He just hadn't been sure why she'd been staring at them so hard... but now? Now, he knew exactly why she'd been so fixated on them, and he planned to use that to his advantage.
The whimper that slipped from Y/N's lips as Spencer slid two fingers into her gaping mouth confirmed his suspicions, the shit-eating grin on his face growing wide as he pressed the digits down against her tongue. She began to suck at his fingers eagerly, the feeling of her tongue laving over them making his body tremble in anticipation.
His hips began to rock against hers, slowly grinding against her aching core as he pressed kisses up and down the side of her neck. Once he was satisfied with his teasing, he pulled his fingers from her mouth with a slick 'pop', replacing them with his tongue as he kissed her deeply.
Y/N’s mind whirled, both surprised and intrigued by the sudden shift in his demeanor, captivated by how effortlessly he stepped into control. It wasn’t what she’d anticipated at all. She’d seen glimpses of this side of him—brief moments in the field or during interrogations—but never like this. The man before her was assured and confident, a stark contrast to his usual, endearing awkwardness.
Their kiss grew hungry as Spencer continued where they had left off before, his hands sliding under the hem of her shirt and bunching the fabric as they trailed up. He broke the kiss long enough to help her out of the shirt, tossing it somewhere in the direction of the TV before capturing her lips once more. He was a man ravenous, consumed by the sweetness of her lips, and even the seconds it took to remove her t-shirt felt like an unbearable eternity without them.
Her hands were just as busy as his, dragging down his clothed chest before finding the button of his slacks in the cramped space between them. Her fingers fumbled with the button blindly, and her movements faltered when his teeth gently tugged at her lower lip.
"Off," Y/N whined indignantly against his mouth, tugging frustratedly at the button. "Take them off."
Spencer obliged, helpless to her commands as he sat back on his heels, easily undoing the pesky button that was keeping her from what she wanted. She went to sit up to help with his zipper, but in her rush to get his pants off, she didn't realize just how close his knee was to the edge of the cushion.
The motion knocked his knee outwards, a surprised yelp leaving his lips as he instinctively reached out for her to steady himself, but it was too late.
A startled squeal slipped from Y/N as they both tumbled to the floor, landing with a muted thud on the plush carpet. Spencer’s hands shot to her waist, his eyes wide as he glanced up at her, now sprawled on top of him, her laughter filling the air at their unexpected fall. He joined her, chuckling loudly.
They were a perfect chaos—rumpled clothes, kiss-swollen lips, tangled hair, and eyes full of love. But neither of them minded, because they finally had what they’d both been yearning for all this time: each other.
The fall did little to curb their desire for each other. Y/N ducked her head, pressing her lips to Spencer's with renewed vigor as her hands slipped underneath his sweater. She giggled as he squirmed underneath her touch.
"You're such a wiggle worm!" Y/N huffed, pulling back just enough to let the words slip free into the air between them as she lifted the sweater up and over his head.
Spencer scoffed, his own hands slipping beneath the waistband of her yoga pants and shoving them down her legs. "I can't help that your hands feel like ice!"
A quiet hiss left her lips at the feeling of his equally cold hands brushing against the skin of her thighs. She wriggled on top of him, kicking off the remaining fabric that had wrapped around her feet.
"So do yours, but you don't see me acting like a baby about it!"
"Oh, I'll show you a baby—"
Y/N cackled as Spencer rolled them over, hovering above her once more with a cheeky grin and soft chuckles. He bombarded her with kisses all over her face and collarbones, ignoring her hands swatting at him playfully as he continued his attack. Soon his pants joined the growing pile of clothes near the entertainment center, the soft glow of the TV illuminating the room as the final scenes of the forgotten movie played out. His hands made swift work of removing her bra, leaving her lying underneath him in only her lacy underwear.
Their laughter died out as they stared into each other's eyes, the weight of what was about to change—what had already changed—settling over them. But fear didn’t touch them. There was no reason for it. This was always meant to be; written in the stars, woven into their destiny long before they existed.
Spencer closed the gap between them, kissing Y/N tenderly as he lowered himself just enough for their bare chests to press together and their hips to align perfectly. A sigh escaped her at the feeling of his hardened cock grinding against her, the thin fabric of his boxers and her soaked panties doing little to conceal what lay beneath.
Neither of them had ever pictured their first time unfolding on the living room floor, but in a way, it made the moment even more unforgettable. It was a testament to how desperately they wanted each other—so much that they’d choose the roughness of the carpet and rug burns over the luxury of her bed to avoid the few minutes apart it would take to get to her room.
"You're sure you want this?"
Spencer broke the kiss, his eyes tracing hers for any trace of hesitation or doubt. Y/N's lips curved into a faint smile as she reached up to caress his face. Her thumb stroked the skin of his cheekbone as she nodded.
"More than anything."
The look in her eyes told him that she was being completely honest. That was all the confirmation he needed. His shaky hands found the edges of the lace adorning her hips, inching his body down as he tugged the soaked-through fabric down her legs.
Y/N's face scrunched in confusion as Spencer moved lower, her brows furrowing as he pressed a kiss to her knee. "What are you-"
Her words cut off with a sharp moan as Spencer latched his mouth to her clit, her head tipping back against the floor as her hands buried themselves into his disheveled strands. Her back arched as her legs spread instinctively, making room for him as he began to devour her. He shifted, grabbing ahold of her thighs and placing them over his shoulders as his tongue alternated between teasing kitten licks and long, drawn-out laps up and down her pussy.
Y/N struggled to open her eyes, peering down at him as pleasure began to flood her veins. The sight of his hands—those beautiful goddamned hands that had inadvertently caused this to happen— gripping her thighs hard enough to leave bruises had her mouth hanging open, small whimpers and moans flowing freely into the open space.
"You taste exquisite, sweetheart. So, so good," Spencer mumbled against her slick skin before sucking her clit into his mouth gently.
Y/N cried out, writhing underneath him as the pleasure in her lower stomach began to build rapidly. A loud groan wrenched itself from her throat as Spencer grabbed her hips, pinning them to the ground as he continued to ravage her in a way that rendered her useless.
"You can take it, pretty girl," Spencer cooed, placing a kiss on her clit before one of his hands left her hip to trace her folds. "Cum for me so I can fuck you so good you'll never want anyone else again."
Who the fuck taught him how to talk like that?
Y/N couldn’t speak to tell him that she’d never want anyone else anyways; that he was etched into her very soul, and every part of her would forever long for his touch and his touch alone. She cried out as his middle finger prodded at her entrance before slipping inside, her orgasm so close she could almost taste it.
Spencer moaned against her from how little resistance her walls had against the intrusion, immediately adding his ring finger to the mix. He thrusted them into her hard, curling the lithe digits in search of that rough patch of skin that would give him what he wanted. It took all of three strokes before he found it, his mouth forming a smirk as she gripped his hair and yanked, grinding her hips up into his mouth as she thrashed beneath him.
"Spence! Fuck, I-I'm cumming—"
Y/N barely uttered the words before her climax seized her, her toes curling as her vision whitened and the world shattered around her. She could vaguely register Spencer's sweet voice coaxing her through it, his forehead now pressed to hers as his fingers continued to gently thrust into her through the aftershocks. Only when she was trembling and weakly shoving at his wrist did he finally stop his movements, his lips meeting hers in a series of soft kisses as her chest heaved beneath him.
"Yeah?" He murmured with a smug grin, pulling back to smooth her hair away from her damp face with his clean hand as she stared up at him in bewilderment.
Spencer Reid had just caused her to cum harder than she ever had in her life. Spencer—the same Spencer that was too shy to look her in the eyes for a solid month after first meeting her— just made her cum so hard she almost blacked out. She understood why he was a man of magic now... and it had nothing to do with the novelty tricks he was always showing off.
"Yeah," Y/N whispered in response, still reeling from her orgasm.
If that was the type of climax she could reach simply from his tongue and fingers, she was convinced that she'd never actually experienced one with anyone else.
"Do you want to stop there? Or do you want to keep going?"
Spencer's voice was soft as he stared at the gorgeous woman beneath him. He found it ironic that he was already kneeling between her thighs because that had now become his place of worship. His redemption came in the form of her essence, dripping from his fingers as they rested against her hip. He'd never need anything else as long as he had her.
"Keep going. I want to keep going," Y/N pleaded softly, her hands reaching for his boxers. "Just—c'mere. Wanna taste you before you fuck me brainless. Please?"
A pitiful whine left Spencer’s lips as he felt his composure crack slightly. He wasn’t prepared for her to practically beg to suck his cock. He found himself nodding mindlessly, his hands going to help her strip him of his boxers before he remembered the mess still clinging to his fingers.
“Clean these for me first, sweet girl. Then you can.”
Spencer brought his fingers up to her lips, watching in amazement as she obeyed without a fuss. She even went as far as moaning while she licked his fingers clean of her, holding his gaze while she did. Y/N knew what she did to him. She knew he was just as affected by her as she was him. And she reveled in it.
Once he deemed them clean enough, he pulled them from her mouth before ridding himself of the last shred of fabric between them. The second that Spencer was bare before her, she pounced. Her hands pushed at his chest, urging him to lie back as she crawled on top of him.
“You’re so pretty, Spence,” Y/N breathed dazedly, pecking his lips before trailing her kisses down his chest. “God… look at you.”
Spencer flushed bright red while she continued to murmur her praises as she gripped the base of him, his cock twitching in her hand.
He had never been particularly confident—growing up as a child prodigy in a Las Vegas public school had stripped him of any sense of self-worth before it had a chance to take root. Unlike Morgan, he didn’t have the muscles or the easy charm with women. He could count the number of sexual encounters he’d had on one hand. His dates rarely progressed beyond the first, driven away by his nervous rambling and the unpredictable demands of his job.
The only way Spencer even knew how to make Y/N feel so good was because he had studied every piece of material he could find on the intricacies of female anatomy and sexual pleasure on the off chance one of his dates would blossom into something more than an uncomfortable hook-up and dash situation. It also helped that he’d pined after her since he’d known her, that longing translating into a dire need to make her feel the best she ever had because that’s what she deserved. She deserved to feel pleasure in its purest form, to feel cherished and worshipped because that’s how precious she was to him.
And in this moment, as she gazed at him with the kind of reverence that made it seem as though he was the center of her universe, Spencer believed that maybe, just maybe, he deserved to feel that way too.
His fingers grasped helplessly at the carpet beneath him as her beautiful lips wrapped around the flushed head of his arousal, a muffled curse falling into the air as she swirled her tongue around him. Y/N smirked around her mouthful, her eyes glinting with amusement as she inhaled through her nose and pushed lower, taking him into the back of her throat. The gag that she emitted from the motion had his hips jerking up, a flurry of apologies spewing from his mouth.
Instead of responding verbally, she simply grabbed his hands and guided them to her hair, encouraging him to take hold and move her as he pleased. Once he threaded his hands through her hair, she continued. Her own hands planted firmly on his thighs as she began to bob her head around what she could fit, a soft hum vibrating around his length as her eyes fluttered shut.
Spencer was speechless— absolutely floored as he stared slack-jawed at the woman moaning around his cock like she was the one receiving pleasure from it. He gave an experimental tug of her hair, his head falling back with a thunk as she moaned louder and moved faster. It was as though she were unraveling his very soul with her tongue, hurtling him towards an orgasm he didn’t want to have just yet.
“Y-Y/N wait I— ngh!” Spencer groaned, his grip on her hair tightening unintentionally as he tried to pull her off of him. “I won’t be able to fuck you if you make me cum down your throat, pretty girl. P-please—“
Y/N whined in protest but finally eased herself off of his cock, a trail of spit bridging her lower lip to the head of him as she stared up at him with watery eyes and swollen lips.
Spencer felt delirious as he took in the sight. It was something he’d dreamed about (albeit guiltily) for years, and having the real thing in front of him was infinitely better than anything his subconscious had conjured up during those restless nights. She was a vision; a work of art that deserved to have a museum dedicated to her and her alone.
“Oh, don’t pout. Unless you don’t want to be fucked anymore?” Spencer chuckled breathlessly, arching a brow as she moved to straddle him. His hands found their way to her waist, a shudder running down his spine as she settled over him.
“If you won’t fuck me… I have a pretty nice dildo in my bedside drawer that should do the trick,” Y/N hummed coyly, dragging her heat across the length of him with a soft sigh.
Spencer’s eyes darkened at that, his grip on her hips tightening to put a halt to her subtle movements.
“Yeah? You think it’d make you feel better than I could?”
Y/N swallowed hard, the aching between her legs starting to override her logical thinking. She knew the answer he was looking for; the answer that would give her exactly what she wanted. But she decided to be a smartass instead.
“Maybe,” She answered with a shrug, nibbling at her lower lip as she tried to fight against his hold to get the friction she craved.
“Go get it then.”
Spencer leaned forward, his nose brushing hers as she sat in his lap, a challenge in his gaze. He knew she wouldn’t—she was getting restless, just like him. But if this was the game she wanted to play, he was determined to win.
Panic spread across Y/N’s face at the cold, indifferent look in his eyes. Her hands rested on his shoulders, her frown betraying the sinking realization of the hole she’d dug for herself. They were both ridiculously competitive, so why she’d started this—rather than just admitting how badly she wanted him buried inside her—was beyond her.
“I was kidding,” Y/N huffed, tilting forward in an attempt to capture his lips.
Spencer leaned back, keeping his lips just out of reach. He shook his head, smirking softly. “Nope. Either go get it, or say you’re sorry.”
Y/N hesitated, frowning as she weighed her options. She wanted him so badly it hurt. But pride was a hell of a thing. She knew he wouldn’t back down. Normally, she wouldn’t either. But his cock was pressed so deliciously against her clit that she decided it would be more than worth it to lose just this once.
“I’m sorry,” She mumbled, barely audible.
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”
Spencer’s taunting made her groan in frustration before she sighed and tried again.
“I said I’m sorry—“
He shifted them so that his back was against the couch, her knees on both sides of his hips digging into the carpet hard enough that he was certain it would sting once they started. He’d make sure to take care of her afterward, though. He gazed up at her with adoration, thoroughly enjoying how needy she'd become. Her breath hitched as he adjusted his hips, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance.
“One more time, hm?” Spencer coaxed, his hands now rubbing up and down her sides but still holding her tight enough that she couldn't rock against him. If he was honest, his resolve had crumbled as quickly as hers, but he couldn’t help from teasing her for just a little longer.
“I’m sorry!” Y/N cried out, her forehead pressing against his as she whimpered. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Spencer finally pressed a kiss to her lips before pulling back, his lips brushing against hers as he crooned. “Good girl, baby. Thank you.”
Hearing the praise fall so easily from his mouth had Y/N canting her hips down eagerly, willing to do whatever he wanted just so she could hear his sweet words over and over again. Her determination didn’t waver, her hips pushing down insistently. Spencer’s hold on her waist faltered, and for a brief moment, gravity claimed its victory.
A startled gasp slipped from her lips as the tip of his cock pushed into her, followed by a guttural moan that had Spencer's ears ringing as he cursed loudly. She had been so used to his hold that she wasn't prepared to support herself, his hands having barely caught her from dropping completely. He immediately yanked her up, the cool air against his skin a shock after having felt her warmth for the first time.
“God—fuck!" Spencer groaned as his head tipped back against the couch cushions, straining against every instinct begging him to just drive into her and utilizing every muscle in his body to keep her suspended as she wriggled impatiently.
"Baby... how are you— how are you wanting to do this?” Spencer whispered, swallowing before he continued. “I’m pretty sure I have a condom in my wallet, but I… um. I’m clean...”
Their hearts pounded in their chests as his words lingered in the air, the only sounds in the room being the repeated menu options from the forgotten movie and the ragged rhythm of their breaths.
Y/N meweled, reaching down to realign him with her entrance. “I’m clean and on birth control… Can we...? Like this? Please—“
“Yes.”
Y/N chuckled at his blunt response, though she was just as desperate to feel him after having the faintest taste of what he felt inside her. Her lips found his for a chaste kiss before she finally began to lower herself onto his cock, this time without his resistance.
Her laughter died in her throat, morphing into a choked whimper from the stretch of him. Even with how aroused she was, trying to make him fit was a struggle. Spencer was easily the biggest out of anyone she’d ever been with— a feat she hadn't quite realized until she was pausing halfway down his cock with a stuttered moan, slowly circling her hips in an attempt to adjust to the sensation.
Spencer was convinced he'd somehow died and ascended to paradise as he gazed up at the angelic woman hovering above him, enthralled by watching her fight to take the full length of him into her depths. His hands massaged up and down her trembling thighs, hoping to help her relax enough to take the rest of him without it hurting. Hums of encouragement rumbled from his chest as he stared unblinking at her, the warm amber of his eyes almost consumed completely by his blown pupils. His thumb found her clit and rubbed small circles into it as her eyes fluttered closed and she inhaled sharply through her nose.
"That's it, sweet girl," He cooed, continuing his gentle ministrations as she whined from deep in her throat. "Just like that. You're taking me so well. My gorgeous girl."
There was a pleasant burn as Y/N gingerly lifted her hips, leaving only the head of him inside of her. The way her hardened nipples brushed against his bare chest had her shivering lightly, the touch sending small sparks of pleasure jolting through her. Soft whines spilled from her lips as Spencer moved his hands around to grip her ass, gently massaging the flesh as she raised up on her knees.
With a committed roll of her hips and a quiet grunt, Y/N finally took the rest of his length, their bodies now flush together as her head dropped into the crook of his neck. The whorish moan Spencer released into her ear as he bottomed out had her clenching around him, a dire need to cause more of those sinful noises prompting her hips to begin moving. The raw stinging against her knees as she began to ride him in earnest only spurred her on, her nails digging into his shoulders as her head lolled back.
"Spence—" Y/N whimpered, resting her forehead against his as she panted out his name again and again, chanting it as though it were a mantra.
Spencer shushed her, understanding exactly what she couldn't manage to vocalize. He nodded against her as their bodies moved in tandem. "I know, baby. I know. You feel divine. My sweet angel." He continued to murmur out his praises as his head rested back on the edge of the couch cushion, small fingerprint-shaped bruises marking her skin as he clung to her.
Her hips began to falter as exhaustion started to settle into her bones from the vigorous pace she'd set, her second orgasm brewing in the pit of her stomach as though it were a wicked thunderstorm in waiting, ready to roll in and wreak havoc on her entire body at any minute. The slick sounds of their bodies connecting over and over paired with the symphony of heady moans and whimpers spilling between them—it was all driving her closer and closer to ecstasy.
Spencer noticed the fumble in her movements, his brows pinched together as he fought to keep his own climax at bay so he could enjoy the sensation of being wrapped up in her walls for a while longer. But he couldn't let his pretty girl do all of the work, could he? That would be cruel.
He planted his feet into the ground, beginning to pound into her from below. A satisfied smirk adorned his face as Y/N cried out, her head falling into the crook of his neck once more as she began to babble incoherently against his skin. The pace he set was wild and unrestrained, the angle allowing him to drive into her g-spot repeatedly.
"Take it, take it, take it—" Spencer hissed through clenched teeth before he latched his mouth onto her right nipple, sucking at the bud and swirling his tongue around it.
Y/N threaded her fingers through his hair, hanging on tightly as Spencer ravaged her. Her mouth hung open as moan after moan wrenched itself from her core and embedded into his damp skin. The pleasure searing through her veins was consuming her, burning her from the inside out. She was so close—
The catalyst for her orgasm came in the form of Spencer's hands slipping down her ass and underneath her thighs so that the tips of his fingers were brushing against where they were connected with each thrust. All it took was that one simple touch for the tension in her body to snap, her teeth digging into his shoulder as she tried to muffle her screams while her walls pulsed around him violently. Her eyes squeezed shut as she wailed his name loudly, not caring if any of her neighbors heard them at this point. She wanted the world to know exactly who was making her feel this good.
Spencer toppled them over onto the ground as she came around him, pinning her to the carpet and rutting into her fervently. Something akin to a sob fell from his lips before he abruptly pulled out, jerking his cock in quick strokes before he was spurting his cum across her stomach and tits with a cry of her name.
He crumpled to the ground beside her, pulling her into his side before he slung an arm over his face. Their chests heaved as they came down from their highs, both of them completely spent after such depraved lovemaking. His free hand stroked up and down her slick skin as she rested her head on his chest, calming the tremors wracking her body as they caught their breath.
Once Spencer regained feeling in his legs, he scooped Y/N from the floor and into his arms, hauling her off toward her bathroom as giggles bubbled from her lips at his surprising show of strength. Y/N watched with pure fondness as he started the shower, her heart swelling as he glanced back at her with a tired grin. When the water was warm enough, he held her hand as he helped her step in, following behind her with a hand wrapped around her waist to hold her steady.
After a shower spent lost in love-struck gazes, soapy caresses, and slow, tender kisses against the tiles, they ended up wrapped in each other's arms in her bed. It was only midday, but it was Saturday—so why not indulge in a nap? They had more than earned it after their (failed) movie marathon.
"Y'know," Y/N started, her voice low as fatigue began to cloud her mind. "You really do have massive hands." She took his hand, which had been resting loosely between them, lifting it to align with hers for comparison. His hand was nearly twice the size of hers, and the sight made her smile with amusement.
Spencer snorted, his nose scrunching as he laughed quietly at her observation.
"Well, yeah... I am 6'1", sweetheart. It would be abnormal if I didn't have massive hands," He stated matter-of-factly. "Besides, you love them. Really love them," He added with a sleepy smirk.
Y/N's face burned as she rolled her eyes, playfully shoving him with a scoff. "Yeah, yeah. It isn't my fault you have hands that were crafted by Michelangelo himself," She murmured defensively.
Spencer pulled her closer, brushing a kiss against her forehead, then her nose, her cheeks, and finally, her lips.
"You know I'm just teasing you. Did you know that—"
As Spencer began to prattle on about the variations and degrees of hand kinks and fetishes, Y/N's mind drifted back to the picture that had unknowingly set everything in motion. She couldn’t help but thank that raised crack in the sidewalk for pushing her old-fashioned boyfriend (that still felt so surreal to say) to embrace modern technology—because without it, she might have spent even more time blind to the fact that she was utterly, hopelessly in love with the man lying before her.
And as they drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, Spencer felt a deep sense of gratitude for finally being able to love the beautiful woman in his arms the way he’d always dreamed of.
Continued A/N's: I felt evil for my first (published) fic being so angsty so I decided to write this as a formal apology LMAO. I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you have just as much fun reading it. Please tell me what you think and let me know if you'd like to see a sequel for this as well! :) K <3
I need help getting back into writing again, so please send in requests for fics or even just some small prompts, I welcome most things but there are some I will not write. But don't be afraid to ask, I'll get to asks as soon as possible! I might also do a poll for which fandom I write for next <3
Blood is warm. if blood is cold, you’re really fucking feverish or the person is dead. it’s only sticky after it coagulates.
It smells! like iron, obv, but very metallic. heavy blood loss has a really potent smell, someone will notice.
Unless in a state of shock or fight-flight mode, a character will know they’re bleeding. stop with the ‘i didn’t even feel it’ yeah you did. drowsiness, confusion, pale complexion, nausea, clumsiness, and memory loss are symptoms to include.
blood flow ebbs. sometimes it’s really gushin’, other times it’s a trickle. could be the same wound at different points.
it’s slow. use this to your advantage! more sad writer times hehehe.
Stab wounds:
I have been mildly impaled with rebar on an occasion, so let me explain from experience. being stabbed is bizarre af. your body is soft. you can squish it, feel it jiggle when you move. whatever just stabbed you? not jiggly. it feels stiff and numb after the pain fades. often, stab wounds lead to nerve damage. hands, arms, feet, neck, all have more motor nerve clusters than the torso. fingers may go numb or useless if a tendon is nicked.
also, bleeding takes FOREVER to stop, as mentioned above.
if the wound has an exit wound, like a bullet clean through or a spear through the whole limb, DONT REMOVE THE OBJECT. character will die. leave it, bandage around it. could be a good opportunity for some touchy touchy :)
whump writers - good opportunity for caretaker angst and fluff w/ trying to manhandle whumpee into a good position to access both sites
Concussion:
despite the amnesia and confusion, people ain’t that articulate. even if they’re mumbling about how much they love (person) - if that’s ur trope - or a secret, it’s gonna make no sense. garbled nonsense, no full sentences, just a coupla words here and there.
if the concussion is mild, they’re gonna feel fine. until….bam! out like a light. kinda funny to witness, but also a good time for some caretaking fluff.
Fever:
you die at 110F. no 'oh no his fever is 120F!! ahhh!“ no his fever is 0F because he’s fucking dead. you lose consciousness around 103, sometimes less if it’s a child. brain damage occurs at over 104.
ACTUAL SYMPTOMS:
sluggishness
seizures (severe)
inability to speak clearly
feeling chilly/shivering
nausea
pain
delirium
symptoms increase as fever rises. slow build that secret sickness! feverish people can be irritable, maybe a bit of sass followed by some hurt/comfort. never hurt anybody.
ALSO about fevers - they absolutely can cause hallucinations. Sometimes these alter memory and future memory processing. they're scary shit guys.
fevers are a big deal! bad shit can happen! milk that till its dry (chill out) and get some good hurt/comfort whumpee shit.
keep writing u sadistic nerds xox love you
ALSO I FORGOT LEMME ADD ON:
YOU DIE AT 85F
sorry I forgot. at that point for a sustained period of time you're too cold to survive.
9. Righteous Indignation - Becomes excessively angry over perceived injustices, often alienating others.
10. Altruistic Self-Destruction - Sacrifices themselves for others to an unhealthy degree, often leading to self-neglect.
11. Pathological Modesty - Downplays their own achievements to the point of self-sabotage or invisibility.
12. Incapable of Solitude - Feels an intense fear of being alone, leading to codependent or unhealthy relationships.
13. Over-Rationalization - Justifies every action or decision, even when it’s clearly flawed, to avoid guilt or responsibility.
14. Constant Self-Sabotage - Subconsciously undermines their own success due to deep-seated fears or insecurities.
15. Misplaced Loyalty - Stays loyal to people or causes even when it’s harmful or undeserved.
16. Ethical Rigidity - Follows their moral code to the letter, unable to adapt to complex or gray situations.
17. Need for Obscurity - Prefers to stay unnoticed or in the background, avoiding recognition or responsibility.
18. Involuntary Aloofness - Appears distant or disinterested, often without meaning to, leading to misunderstandings.
19. Fear of Mediocrity - Terrified of being ordinary, they constantly strive for greatness, often leading to burnout.
20. Rejection Sensitivity - Overreacts to criticism or perceived slights, often withdrawing or lashing out.
21. Conflict Avoidance - Avoids confrontation at all costs, leading to unresolved issues and resentment.
22. Over-idealization of Others - Puts people on pedestals, only to be deeply disappointed when they don’t meet expectations.
23. Chronically Unfulfilled - No matter what they achieve, they always feel something is missing, leading to constant searching.
24. Compulsive Truth-Telling - Feels compelled to speak the truth, even when it would be kinder or wiser to remain silent.
25. Overactive Imagination - Sees threats or possibilities where there are none, leading to anxiety or missed opportunities.
26. Faux Humility - Pretends to be humble but secretly craves admiration or validation.
27. Micromanagement - Needs to control every detail, often suffocating others or hindering their own progress.
28. Anachronistic Thinking - Clings to outdated beliefs or practices, struggling to adapt to modern realities.
29. Over-Reliance on Routine - Becomes anxious or lost without their routines, struggling to adapt to change.
30. Selective Memory - Remembers events in a way that suits their narrative, often distorting the truth.
31. Paradoxical Fear of Success - Desires success but subconsciously fears the changes or responsibilities it might bring.
32. Compassion Fatigue - Once empathetic, now numbed or indifferent due to overwhelming exposure to others’ suffering.
33. Overwhelming Nostalgia - Lives in the past, unable to move forward or appreciate the present.
34. Unyielding Perfectionism - So focused on flawlessness that they struggle to complete tasks or accept anything less than perfect.
35. Epistemic Arrogance - Believes they know everything worth knowing, dismissing the possibility of learning from others.
36. Excessive Hedonism - Pursues pleasure to the point of neglecting responsibilities or moral considerations.
37. Over-Cautiousness - So afraid of making mistakes that they rarely take action, leading to missed opportunities.
38. Idealistic Naivety - Believes the world should operate according to their ideals, often clashing with reality.
39. Ambition without Direction - Desires greatness but has no clear path or plan, leading to frustration and failure.
40. Emotional Transference - Projects unresolved emotions onto others, often misinterpreting their intentions or actions.
41. Overdependence on Routine - Becomes anxious or lost without their routines, struggling to adapt to change.
42. Misplaced Guilt - Feels responsible for things outside of their control, leading to unnecessary self-blame.
43. Fear of Being Ordinary - Constantly strives to stand out, often at the expense of authenticity or well-being.
44. Chronic Indecisiveness - Struggles to make even simple decisions, constantly second-guessing themselves.
45. Faux Cynicism - Pretends to be jaded or cynical as a defense mechanism, while secretly caring deeply.
46. Romanticization of Suffering - Believes that suffering is noble or meaningful, often rejecting happiness or comfort.
47. Selective Compassion - Empathetic towards some but completely indifferent or cold to others, often based on biases.
48. Avoidant Optimism - Avoids negative thoughts or situations, clinging to an unrealistic positivity that ignores real problems.
49. Fear of Abandonment - Clings to relationships out of fear of being left alone, often leading to unhealthy dynamics.
50. Overidentification with Work - Sees their job as their entire identity, struggling with self-worth outside of work.
51. Excessive Altruism - Sacrifices their own needs to help others, often to their own detriment.
52. Self-Imposed Isolation - Withdraws from others out of fear of rejection or misunderstanding, leading to loneliness.
53. Over-Analysis Paralysis - Overthinks every situation to the point of being unable to make decisions or take action.
54. Eternal Romantic - Sees the world through a lens of idealized love, often leading to disillusionment or heartbreak.
55. Emotional Incontinence - Struggles to control their emotions, often overwhelming others with their intensity.
56. Fear of Aging - Obsessed with youth, they go to great lengths to deny or hide the aging process.
57. Intellectual Cowardice - Avoids challenging their own beliefs or ideas, sticking to what they know out of fear of change.
58. Emotional Hoarding - Holds onto past hurts or grudges, unable to let go and move on.
59. Unquenchable Curiosity - Always needs to knw more, often prying into others’ lives or crossing boundaries.
60. Romantic Escapism - Uses fantasy or daydreams as a way to avoid dealing with reality, leading to detachment.
61. Masochistic Tendencies - Deliberately seeks out situations that cause them pain or discomfort, believing they deserve it.
62. Incurable Wanderer - Can never settle down, always moving on to the next place or experience, leading to rootlessness.
63. Dependency on Validation - Needs constant approval or praise from others to feel good about themselves.
64. Constant Self-Reinvention - Continuously changes their identity or persona, never settling on who they truly are.
65. Moral Masochism - Finds satisfaction in self-punishment or guilt, often holding themselves to impossible standards.
66. Faux Bravado - Pretends to be fearless or confident to hide deep-seated insecurities or fears.
67. Over-romanticization of the Past - Idealizes past experiences, believing that things were better back then, leading to dissatisfaction with the present.
68. Chronic Hedging - Never fully commits to decisions or actions, always leaving themselves an escape route.
69. Fear of Stagnation - Constantly needs to be doing something or moving forward, fearing they’ll become irrelevant or bored.
70. Over-Attachment to Objects - Places excessive sentimental value on material possessions, struggling to let go.
71. Emotional Stoicism - Refuses to show or acknowledge emotions, leading to repression and eventual breakdowns.
72. Self-Flagellation - Constantly punishes themselves for perceived failures or mistakes, often disproportionate to the actual events.
73. Fear of the Unknown - Terrified of what they can’t predict or control, leading to anxiety or avoidance of new experiences.
74. Romantic Pessimism - Believes that love or relationships are doomed to fail, leading to self-sabotage or cynicism.
75. Intellectual Purism - Believes in the superiority of “pure” intellectual pursuits, often dismissing practical or emotional concerns.
76. Existential Dread - Obsesses over the meaning (or lack thereof) of life, leading to paralysis or despair.
77. Involuntary Nonconformity- Desires to fit in but can’t help standing out or going against the grain, often feeling alienated.
78. Self-Imposed Martyrdom - Puts themselves in a position of suffering or sacrifice, believing it’s their duty or fate.
79. Idealized Self-Image - Clings to an unrealistic self-concept, struggling to accept their flaws or limitations.
80. Compulsive Honesty - Feels compelled to always tell the truth, even when it’s hurtful or inappropriate.
81. Over-Reliance on Technology - Becomes helpless without modern conveniences, struggling to cope with real-world challenges.
82. Moral Exhibitionism - Shows off their ethics or principles to gain admiration or moral superiority, often insincerely.
83. Perpetual Student Syndrome - Always learning but never applying knowledge, avoiding real-world responsibilities.
84. Emotional Osmosis - Absorbs others’ emotions so deeply that they lose track of their own feelings or needs.
85. Pathological Frugality - So obsessed with saving money or resources that they miss out on life’s joys or opportunities.
86. Obsessive Self-Improvement - Never satisfied with themselves, constantly striving for unattainable perfection.
87. False Modesty - Pretends to be humble while fishing for compliments or validation.
88. Uncontrolled Impulsiveness - Acts on whims or impulses without considering the consequences, leading to chaos or regret.
89. Chronic Hedonism - Lives only for pleasure, often to the detriment of their long-term happiness or relationships.
90. Overly Abstract Thinking - So focused on big ideas or concepts that they lose touch with reality or practical concerns.
91. Romantic Idealism - Believes in a perfect love or relationship, often leading to disappointment or disillusionment.
92. Selective Altruism - Only helps others when it suits them, often ignoring those who don’t fit their criteria.
93. Pathological Shyness - So shy or introverted that they struggle to function in social situations, often missing out on opportunities.
94. Moral Superiority - Believes they are more ethical or righteous than others, often looking down on those who don’t share their views.
95. Over-identification with a Role - Sees themselves only as their job, family role, or social identity, losing sight of their true self.
96. Chronic Complaining - Constantly finds something to complain about, often bringing others down or creating a negative atmosphere.
97. Faux Stoicism - Pretends to be emotionally strong or unaffected, while secretly struggling with deep emotional turmoil.
98. Addiction to Drama - Thrives on conflict or chaos, often creating drama where there is none to feel alive or important.
99. Obsessive Collecting - Gathers possessions, knowledge, or experiences obsessively, often unable to let go or move on.
100. Inflexible Optimism - Refuses to acknowledge negative possibilities, often unprepared for setbacks or challenges.
101. Contrarianism - Always takes the opposite stance just to challenge others, often without genuine conviction.
102. Emotional Projection - Attributes their own feelings or issues onto others, often leading to misunderstandings.
103. Compulsive Heroism - Feels the need to be seen as heroic or brave, even in situations that don’t call for it.
104. Spiritual Narcissism - Uses spirituality as a way to feel superior to others or to avoid personal flaws.
105. Self-Defeating Humor - Constantly makes jokes at their own expense, using humor to deflect serious issues.
106. Identity Fluidity - Frequently changes their identity or beliefs to fit in with different groups, losing a sense of true self.
107. Overattachment to the Past - Can’t move on from past successes or failures, allowing them to define their present.
108. Pseudointellectualism - Pretends to know more than they do, using complex language or ideas to impress others.
109. Overidealization of Youth - Places youth on a pedestal, often dismissing the value of experience or aging.
110. Refusal to Accept Help - Rejects assistance from others, believing they must do everything on their own, even to their detriment.
111. Emotional Manipulation - Uses guilt, pity, or other emotions to control or influence others, often without realizing it.
112. Inconsistent Values - Holds contradictory beliefs or morals, leading to confusion or hypocrisy in their actions.
113. Obsession with Legacy - So focused on how they’ll be remembered that they neglect the present or make unwise choices.
114. Excessive Eagerness to Please - Goes out of their way to make others happy, often at the cost of their own needs or principles.
115. Emotionally Guarded - Builds walls around their feelings, making it difficult for others to get close or understand them.
116. Selective Memory - Chooses to remember events in a way that favors them, often distorting the truth.
117. Overattachment to Authority - Relies heavily on rules or leaders, struggling to make decisions independently or question authority.
118. Fear of Vulnerability - Avoids showing weakness or asking for help, leading to isolation or burnout.
119. Intellectual Detachment - Approaches everything with cold logic, often ignoring the emotional or human side of situations.
120. Obsession with Control - Needs to control every aspect of their life and others’, often leading to stress or strained relationships.
BONUS🔥
CREATE YOUR CHARACTERS WITH DEPTH TODAY! Don't settle for shallow, forgettable characters—elevate your writing with the ultimate character worksheet.
This template isn't just about characters; it’s your all-in-one tool for worldbuilding, writer planning from idea generation to publishing, roadmaps, synced databases, and series planning. It’s the ultimate character and worldbuilding bible you’ve been waiting for.
Available now! But hurry—use code "F4NTASY" to get an incredible 75% off! This offer won’t last long, so grab yours now before it’s too late!
Shop All things bookish, witchy, magical and cottage-core by ThePlotMage located in Newark, New Jersey.
Synopsis: Touya Todoroki enjoys full benefits of his status as both top student and the son of the most successful businessman in the country. He is also a major bully and no one wants to get in his way. When you decide to give him a piece of your mind for bullying your friend, Touya figures how to use that against you
Warnings: +18 MINORS DNI! Dubcon, AU, bullying, blackmailing, mention of violence, cursing, humiliation, smut, oral sex (f. receiving), penetration, creampie, mention of m. receiving oral sex
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi
Word count: 6k
A.N.: I had fun writing this, I think it was fun to write Bully!Touya for a change instead of my original Bully☺️@dabislittlemouse here it is!
“Tamaki!”
Your dark-haired friend cringes as he hears your voice in the crowded hall. He glances over his shoulder timidly, knowing that the following conversation might cause trouble, either to him or someone else.
You walk up to him with a confused look on your face, “What was that about? Why did you tell the professor you hadn’t finished your essay?” You wonder.
Tamaki avoids your gaze nervously, chagrined that he hasn’t figured any reasons to use when you’d ask that very question.
“..I-I just didn’t think.. I-I mean I..” He stutters, which makes you tilt your head, “I, uh.. forgot it at home.”
You quirk a brow at him, picking up his lie, “I saw you having your laptop with you this morning. You said earlier that you’d send it.”
Your remark causes a hue of pink color on his cheeks, “R-right.. I uh.. I didn’t.. send it,” he mumbles.
“Why?” You ask dumbfounded, getting more confused since his vague responses only evoked more questions.
Tamaki scratches his cheek with his index finger. He clearly ponders, but to his disappointment he finds himself cornered. So accepting his defeat, he sighs heavily, “.. My laptop is broken.”
“What? How?” You ask, baffled as he bought it just about a week ago. Suddenly Nejire appears through the crowd and drapes her arm around Tamaki’s shoulder.
“Hey guys! What’s up?” She asks, but as she sees your serious look studying Tamaki, she’s quick to pick up the atmosphere.
“What’s going on?”
“Tamaki’s laptop is broken,” you comment while crossing your arms, doubtful of the reason why.
“Seriously? It was brand new!” She points out and looks at him, rubbing his shoulder as if already consoling him.
“Y-yeah..” He mutters and keeps his gaze down.
“How did that happen?” She asks curiously, far more gently than you.
“It was.. an accident.. I think,” he confesses with a barely audible voice.
Your brows furrow at the odd explanation, but then the realization hits you and your eyes widen.
“He did not—”
Tamaki glances elsewhere, finding it useless to sputter more insincerities when you clearly connected the dots. As his reaction implies that your presumption is unfortunately correct, curse words flood your mind faster than your mouth is capable of repeating them.
“Oh that motherfucker—”
“Please calm down Y/N, I’ll handle it myself—” Tamaki pleads with an apologetic look on his face.
“What? You mean—” Nejire asks, but you already turn on your heels without another word, leaving behind your troubled friends. Hands balled into fists, rage bubbles in your stomach as you’re keen on searching for the reason for your fury.
Touya Todoroki.
Top student and a guy known by everyone. He’s smart, witty and remarkably handsome with his pierced ears, tattoos and white, messy hair. His father, Enji Todoroki owns a business empire and is one of the most successful men in the country. He also donates huge amounts of funds to the university every year.
Prestigious and wealthy family that has a ridiculous amount of power and influence, everyone knows who Todorokis are and no one, including the deans and the professors, wants to be on their bad side. Needless to say, Touya enjoys the full benefits of his status as people fawn him.
Girls swarm around him, hoping to get his undivided attention, which according to rumors, always lasts just one night. Guys are mostly envious of him, but knowing his authority, no one wants to risk their future just to stand up to him.
That is to say Touya is a jerk and a major bully, who has already adopted the nature of a shark that feeds on those who dare to challenge him. It’s a habit that stems from his ruthless father who’s also known for eliminating any and all competition. There’s no doubt that such a trait suits someone who’s supposed to take over his father’s business some day.
Recently Touya has become a thorn in your flesh as for some unknown reason he has targeted Tamaki. The latter assures that he can handle it, but having his laptop broken means that he wasn’t exactly successful.
You clench your jaw in anger. Todorokis are a rich family, whose wealth isn’t affected by even a hundred broken laptops as the price of them is just as significant as a water drop in an ocean. But for Tamaki, it was an expensive investment.
You want to make sure he doesn’t have to endure such treatment ever again. So as you enter the lounge area, you glance around and notice the group that Touya always hangs out with. The 5 of them sit comfortably on couches whereas Touya stands a little further away from them, leaning against a staircase as he currently flirts with a pair of girls. Wearing that trademark lazy grin, his sleeves are rolled up, exposing tattoos that cover his veiny arms.
Your lips purse in anger, “Hey Todoroki!”
Touya lifts an eyebrow as if questioning who dares to bother him. But when he notices your enraged form advancing, his lips twist into a knowing smirk. Storming your way up to him, your demeanor is enough to scare the girls away.
“What the hell is your problem?!” You shout, uncaring how it attracts the interest of others around you, including his friends.
But Touya tilts his head dismissively, “Do I know you?”
“You can’t just break other people’s stuff like that!”
“Sweetheart, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replies condescendingly, “You must’ve confused me with someone else.”
You grit your teeth, well aware that he knows exactly what you’re referring to, “Tamaki’s laptop.”
He gazes elsewhere and hums pensively, “Ooh, that! Yeah, quite an unfortunate incident, I’m afraid. The guy’s just so clumsy he ended up tripping on his own feet,” he scoffs and his friends make no effort to hide their amused reactions.
You inhale a deep breath, calming your burning nerves before slowly repeating the words, “Leave him alone.”
But Touya only chuckles breathlessly in response, finding it utterly amusing that someone actually tries to tell him what to do. His entitled behavior provokes you, which makes you raise your voice a little.
“I mean it! Never approach him again!”
“Or what?” He asks. You hear the dare in his tone and had it been anyone else it would’ve worked. But you step closer into his personal space and stare into the deep turquoise of his eyes.
“Stay away from him,” you copy his tone, showing that you’re not intimidated by him or what he’s capable of.
Touya studies the defiance in your eyes and finds no fake bravery. It almost impresses him and he can’t help a smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips.
Backing off, you take your eyes off of him and flash his friends a glare. Turning to walk away, you feel his eyes on your back, observing your every step.
Searching for Tamaki, you find him from the library, where he’s surrounded by his group of friends. Mirio has his hand on his shoulder encouragingly while Nejire sits on the desk and swings her legs jovially, both of them wearing smiles to cheer him up. There’s also Kirishima, Mina and Tsuyu, freshmen who you don’t know that well.
You smile. It’s really nice to see that despite Tamaki getting his confidence crushed regularly by Touya, he also has a lot of friends around to boost it. In fact, you befriended Tamaki not only for his kind nature, but also because you thought he deserves someone to have his back.
Approaching the group who immediately after noticing you, insist on hearing about your encounter with Touya. It’s nearly funny how confronting a guy like him is considered brave, though in a way, it is since he might focus his attention on you for meddling in his business. But you don’t care.
Instead, you encourage Tamaki with words and a smile, promising to lend him your laptop until he gets a new one. He protests with a shake of his head, assuring that you’ve already done so much for him.
But you insist as you’re gonna stay in the library after classes anyway, which means you can use the computers there.
***
Colors of the evening sun shine through the windows, which also acts as a cue for you to stop overworking yourself and return back to the dorm. That and also the fact that the library is completely empty.
Stretching your arms and rolling your shoulders, you get up and take some books back into their respective places. Hungry and tired, it’s quite challenging to find the right shelves and rows. That’s also why you don’t notice any other presence, even when one shuffles behind you with his hands in his pockets, observing your oblivious figure reaching for the top shelf.
“You know, I’ve been thinking—”
“Shit—!” You yelp and cringe in surprise, the book in your hand dropping on the floor at the sudden voice. Turning around, you’re greeted with Touya’s turquoise eyes and his trademark grin.
Displeasure immediately spreads on your features, “Ugh, what do you want?” You ask, feeling too fatigued to deal with his capricious nature.
“I am willing to leave your little friend alone,” he says unexpectedly.
You blink in confusion, but then cross your arms doubtfully, knowing that someone like him would never offer such a favor out of the pureness of his heart.
“I assume you’re gonna want something in return?”
He grins, “Correct.”
Clicking your tongue and rolling your eyes, you’re not surprised, “And what that might be?” You ask, uninterested. Your question though changes the look in his eyes into something you can’t quite describe. But whatever it is, it’s ominous.
“Fuck me.”
“... What?”
“Fuck me and I’ll make sure that no one, myself included, harms him.”
You blink and shake your head in disbelief, “Y-you— Are you out of your mind?”
“Consider it a fair trade, sweetheart,” he says.
You stare up at him speechlessly, uncertain whether you’re even hearing him right. Your wordless state makes his smirk widen and he takes a step closer to you, forcing you to back against the bookshelf. At that moment your heart begins to beat faster as you realize you’re alone with him.
“You’re the only one who actually has the guts to defy me,” he remarks and places his hand on the shelf, making you notice the difference in your sizes as he looms over you, hooded eyes staring down at you hungrily.
“It turns me the fuck on,” he adds with a husky voice.
You can’t deny the fearful rise and fall of your chest, but knowing he’s purposely trying to intimidate you, you revive your defiance quite quickly. Brows furrowed, you stare up at him confidently.
“I’ll never let you put your filthy hands on me.”
“You will. Because we both know you could never let me hurt someone so precious to you. Not when you have a chance to prevent it.“
Your heart clenches at his words that unfortunately are true. Touya knows that and he shows you another one of his smirks that this time is undeniably horny.
“All you gotta do is to give me some pussy.”
You grit your teeth, but manage to contain your composure. He then slowly loosens his grip on the shelf.
“You have till tomorrow evening. After that the deal’s off the table,” he begins to walk away with your gaze locked on his back.
“I suggest choosing wisely. I’m having some violent thoughts about that sad little friend of yours and it depends on you whether I execute them or not,” he points out and walks away.
The angry look on your face turns troubled as you take a moment to comprehend what just happened. Uneasiness settles in your guts, despite having prepared to accept the consequences of your earlier actions. This isn’t what you expected though so rubbing your upper arm anxiously, you decide to calm down and return back to the dorms.
At first you don’t slip out from your daily routines, instead act like nothing happened. Preparing yourself dinner and talking with your roommate Tatami as if your stomach isn’t twisting with a mixture of revulsion and conflicted emotions.
Later that night you find yourself unable to sleep and end up staring at the ceiling for hours. Arms folded behind your head, the conversation with Touya is still fresh in your mind as his words keep repeating themselves compulsively.
“Fuck me and I’ll make sure that no one, myself included, harms him.”
You sigh. No matter how many scenarios you can think of, none of them leads to a result where Tamaki gets to stay safe and you don’t have to fuck his bully.
Turning on your side, your eyes are heavy from trouble and tiredness. You know somewhere deep within your heart that the decision is easy. There’s no doubt that you’ll push aside your personal feelings to make someone else’s life better. Moreover, you were the one who complicated things by confronting a bully, therefore whatever follows should be yours to handle.
***
The next day you mostly keep to yourself, only flashing a polite smile and a carefree request not to worry to those who wonder if something’s bothering you. In reality, it’s an understatement, but no one suspects how underneath your serene composure, pounds a nervous heart.
At some point you stop procrastinating and accept that you have to seek out Touya. While you walk towards the lounge, there’s a small wish in the back of your mind that you’re not gonna find him and that this all would just go away.
But much to your misfortune, you find the group in question from the cafe. They have taken a whole table despite there being smaller ones to match their numbers. Either slouching or sprawled on their seats, others have to be mindful of their space.
You purse your lips to the side in irritation, figuring that such individuals wouldn’t take others into consideration. You then cross your arms as your gaze attaches to the white-haired bully. When Touya notices you, you show him a sarcastic smile that lingers on your face only for a few seconds. He grins knowingly and takes his time to get up and shuffle up to you.
“What a nice surprise,” he scoffs, as if oblivious to why you’re there.
You tap your foot on the floor unhappily, “I’ve decided to agree to your proposition,” you say unceremoniously, which makes the delinquent in front of you smirk mischievously.
“Lucky me.”
“Shut up. Just tell me when and where.”
“Tonight, 10.pm at the dorm.”
“Fine—”
“Not so fast—” he comments as you’re about to leave.
“What?“
“Of course we need to seal the deal.”
You glare at him, “You want a hand shake or something?”
“I was thinking a peck on the cheek would be nice,” he shrugs innocently, even though his plea is anything but.
You look at him with disgust, “Not a chance.”
“Don't make me remind you what's at stake.”
You grit your teeth. His condescending stare provokes you severely and you can tell he is just fucking with you.
Swallowing your pride, you step closer to him. As he’s much taller than you, you push yourself up on your toes and press a hasty kiss on his cheek, but then bring your lips close to his ear.
“I hate you,” you growl bitterly with a voice that seethes with contempt.
“Save something for foreplay, sweetheart,” he replies with a husky voice.
“Fuck you,” you hiss before walking away. Touya smiles crookedly and turns to his flabbergasted friends who, unbeknownst to him, observed the conversation with curiosity.
“How the fuck did that happen?” Shigaraki asks, obviously baffled to see you kiss Touya even though yesterday you yelled at him.
But their white-haired friend just spreads his arms, “Guess I’m just that irresistible.”
***
It’s 7pm and against your hard-working habits, you’ve spent the entire evening in bed, unable to stop yourself from imagining the obscene scenarios that’ll most likely happen between you and Touya. Tatami prepares herself for some fraternity house party that’s hosted by his boyfriend, Shindou. She babbles excitedly while putting on her makeup and trying on different dresses, but all you can hear is the dooming ticking of the clock.
“Y/N? Y/N??”
“Huh?”
“You sure you’re okay?” She tilts her head, blonde eyebrows furrowed in worry, “You’ve been acting weird all day.”
“Ah, it’s nothing. Probably just overworked myself,” you smile sheepishly.
She narrows her eyes playfully, “You sure you don’t wanna come to the party? A little booze and a lap of a sexy guy might release some tension,” she jokes before gathering her most important belongings into her purse.
“Nah, I think I’ll just sleep this off. But thanks.”
“Oh, okay. Have a good night then!” She smiles.
Your lips twist into a demi smile as she waves you off and shuts the door behind her. The nervous atmosphere hanging above now descends when you’re alone. Inhaling deeply, you get up and turn to check the time that blinks in eerie red numbers and dots.
It feels like you could vomit what little contents your stomach has and it makes you rub your face in frustration. Getting up, you drag yourself into the shower, even though cleansing yourself is practically pointless since the dirty feeling inside you can’t be washed off.
After a steaming hot shower, you blowdry your hair and choose an outfit. Since there’s no way you wanna entertain him with pretty clothes, you choose a plain set of lingerie, regular pants, a top and a hoodie.
Checking yourself from a mirror that’s attached to the door, you stare at yourself disappointedly. Having never imagined finding yourself in such a situation, it’s difficult to comprehend that you’re actually gonna go through with this. Sighing heavily, you shove the intrusive thoughts away and leave to search for the right hall of residence.
Insecurity in your knees, you walk across the well-lit yard with your arms wrapped around yourself. As the right building comes into sight, it stands almost threateningly in front of you as you pass the entrance.
Mind blurry, you’re unable to distract yourself from the pounding of your heart as you wander in the corridors. Gladly there’s not many people to witness your apprehensive manner since most students seem to be attending parties or having gone home to visit their parents.
As you come across the right door, you’re about to reach your hand to knock, but hesitate and end up staring at it. It’s your pride that tells you that it’s not too late to walk away, but your protective heart won’t allow you to become indecisive.
Suddenly the door opens and you tense up, meeting the turquoise eyes of none other than Touya. He grins at your nervous appearance and leans against the doorframe, “How long have you been standing there?”
Heat rises on your cheeks, “Just arrived,” you reply hastily, though both of you know that’s a blatant lie.
Choosing not to point that out, he pushes the door open for you, “Come on in,” he gestures.
You hold onto the prideful attitude and enter carefreely as though your heart isn’t currently bruising your chest.
The room is surprisingly neat. Instead of discarded clothes or cans of beer and energy drinks, the beds are made and every item seems to be placed exactly where it belongs. There’s an expensive looking PC desk, which you assume belongs to his gamer roommate and friend, Shigaraki.
As you hear the door closing, you turn around to face Touya, who walks just a little too close for your comfort. It’s almost funny, considering what you’re about to do with him.
He tilts his head a little, a lazy smile spread on his features that most people considered attractive, “So.. You look pretty.”
You don’t know whether it’s sarcasm or if he’s being truthful, but either way it ticks you off. He knows that any compliment is degrading when it comes from him.
“Why don’t we just get this over with?” You suggest sternly.
“Sure,” he shrugs, but shuffles by the PC desk and plops on the chair. You look at him questioningly as he lifts his foot to rest on the corner of his bed and intertwines his fingers.
“Strip,” he commands.
As if the situation itself isn’t humiliating enough, he wants to make a show out of your undressing, which you’re beyond reluctant to perform. Glaring at him, there’s a moment where your gazes are connected in an intense contest. Unfortunately, out of the two of you, not only is your position disadvantaged, but his deep turquoise eyes are imperative regardless of the carefree grin that’s always plastered on his face.
With no other choice, you huff in irritation and decide to execute his wish, though as unceremoniously as possible. Proceeding to unzip your hoodie, your motions are almost angry as you discard it. Then grabbing the hem of your top, you pull it over your head and drop it on the floor before unzipping your pants. Lowering them all the way down to your ankles, you get out of them and use your foot to push them aside.
Having only your underwear and bra, doubt gnaws at your judgment and your eyes meet Touya’s in the momentary hesitation. He predicts your feelings and indecision, but pays them no mind.
“Go on,” he compels rather calmly, but the undertone of his voice is unconditional.
Inhaling a deep breath to control yourself, you keep your eyes on him when unhooking your bra, never losing contact when the garment slides off of your shoulders on the floor.
As your breasts are now on full display for him, a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips and he can’t help but whistle lowly at your body.
“Come here.”
You obey rather quickly, mostly because it also seems like a permission to still keep your panties on. Standing between his legs, he readjusts his position.
“Straddle me.”
Showing no reaction, you do as you’re told. Grabbing the headrest of the chair, you carefully place yourself in his lap. Tensing up as his hands touch the bare skin of your sides and slide down on the small of your back.
“Damn, baby. All of this yet you never show what you got.”
“Cause I don’t want any assholes like you drooling over my body,” you retorted quickly.
“Well, that doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?” He asks with a wide smirk and you roll your eyes, admitting that he has a point.
He then focuses his attention on your naked breasts, squeezing both of them before sweeping his tongue over the peaked nipple of the other. It sends a tremble through your body as the air feels cold on the now moist skin. Sucking on the sensitive nub, he fondles the other, softly squeezing and using his thumb to brush the nipple.
His touch feels foreign, yet assertive and experienced. Hands surprisingly gentle as he fondles your breasts and caresses your breasts. Littering open-mouthed kisses over your chest, you inhale shakily as his growing bulge presses in between your legs. Your reaction doesn’t miss his perceptive nature as he nibbles and bites the sensitive skin of your neck, hot breath fanning against it and lips twisted into a smug smirk.
Moving his hands on your ass, he grabs a handful and forces you to grind yourself against him. Your face scrunches, brows furrowing as your clothed clit bumps against his hardened member that throbs beneath the fabric of his pants. A guttural groan reverberates in his throat as he humps you steadily, hands firmly holding your ass.
Suddenly he gets up with you in his arms and carries you to bed, placing you down on the mattress as he sets himself between your legs. Bringing his hands on your hips where the waistband of your panties are, his hooded eyes are locked on the thin fabric, the only obstacle between him and what he desires. Teasing himself, he slowly digs his fingers under the waistband and pulls the panties down your legs. It’s clear to you now why he allowed you to keep them at first— He wanted to make another show out of you exposing the most intimate part of yourself to him.
He tosses your panties carelessly on the floor and shifts his wicked gaze at you, “Spread ‘em.”
His audacity is indescribable as well as the spite you feel towards him, however, holding your emotions strictly behind your teeth, you part your legs for him.
The sight of your pussy causes a lecherous grin to spread on his features, “Fuck, that’s a pretty cunt,” he mumbles, swiftly pulling his t-shirt over his head before leaning down to kiss your mound.
“What you think you’re doing..?” You ask, almost nervously.
“I may be a prick, but I’d never leave my girl without an orgasm.”
“I am not your girl,” you hiss.
As if provoked, Touya stops what he’s doing and hovers over you, placing his hands on both sides of your head, “You are now. And after this you always will be.”
The truth in his words tastes bitter and no matter how resentful it makes you, there’s nothing you can come up with that would count as a smart retort. He grins at your speechlessness and plants a chaste kiss on your neck, whereas you avert your gaze away momentarily as the gesture seems like a rotten cherry on top of his superiority.
He then continues to kiss your body, down your lower belly and as he reaches your mound, he plants another few kisses on it. You shut your eyes and bite back a moan as he licks a long stripe between your folds, tongue sweeping subtly against your clit. Leaning your head back, pleasure consumes your body as his soft, wet tongue swirls around your sensitive clit. You keep your mouth strictly shut, but can’t stop your toes from curling though you’re reluctant to admit that he clearly knows what he’s doing. Your body slowly melts into his skillful touch as he flicks your clit with his tongue, pleasure blurring your better judgment as you spread your legs wider and allow him proper access.
He adds more pressure, which makes your back arch and hands grip the sheets as such pleasure has never surged through your body before. He is a natural tease, slowing down his movements whenever he notices you’re nearing your bliss. Your body twists in protest as a small whimper of frustration manages to pass your lips, but it doesn’t convince him to continue like you wish.
He keeps teasing you until your pussy is sensitive enough to thrust a finger inside in order to suddenly increase your pleasure. Your mouth falls agape and at this point you don’t even try to suppress your moans or sudden jolts of your body. He adds a second finger and curls them, aiming for that sweet spot inside you.
Your face distorts in pure pleasure, body writhing in such desperation for release that you grasp his white hair and shamelessly grind yourself against his tongue. Your greediness makes Touya smirk against your folds while he keeps fucking you with his fingers.
Another loud moan and a trash of your legs, you reach your orgasm that washes over you in powerful waves, your walls pulsing steadily around his fingers as you cum. Bliss numbs your limbs and you collapse on the bed, gasping for air as haze surrounds your mind. For that idle moment you can’t remember the questionable circumstances, nor the contempt you feel towards Touya. All you know is the aftermath of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had.
Touya pulls his fingers out of you gently and sits on his knees, wiping your slick from his chin with the back of his hand. Savoring the taste of you on his lips, he’s high on the power he gained from making you cum. Also admiring the state you’re in, you look absolutely irresistible with your juices leaking down the curve of your ass while you pant with your eyes closed.
Smirk widening, his cock throbs at the sight as he starts to unbuckle his belt and lower his pants and boxers. Hovering over you, his shadow engulfs your figure and forces you to slowly open your eyes to meet the depraved look on his.
“Ain’t you cute all fucked out,” his mockery makes the last remnants of your bliss fade away and replace with annoyance that makes you roll your eyes.
“Must you talk?” You ask.
“Not at all, babe. I’d rather listen to you moan for me anyway,” he replies wittily. Heat burns your cheeks as you’re both well aware that you did your best to not grant him that joy. But not only did you fail, he also forces you to swallow your pride as you can’t outsmart his comment.
Tilting his head victoriously, he then focuses on wrapping a hand around his aching cock, pressing the head of it against your sloppy entrance. Your walls allow him to sink inside, albeit with a little resistance.
“There we go..” He grunts at the tightness of your pussy. Your brows furrow and you lean your head back, shutting your eyes as he buries himself deeper inside you, feeling the vague reluctance of your body.
His lips twisting into a smug smirk, he leans close to your ear, “Don’t fight me.”
Your response is nothing but a small whimper as he rocks his hips, gently fucking you. Your fingers curl in the sheets as you keep panting, but the subtle tone of distress soon changes into quiet moans of pleasure. Picking up the pace, he thrusts into you steadily and observes how your features relax into bliss. Grabbing one of your wrists, he pins it above your head.
“That’s a good girl,” he praises, hot breath mingling with yours.
“S-shut u-up,” you cry out, hopelessly clutching onto what little is left of your pride. But as he swirls his hips for more friction, you arch your back in pleasure, hands seeking his tattooed forearms to dig your nails into as your moans become high-pitched.
Touya chuckles as your response is exactly what he was looking for. Confident that he can easily shatter your resolution that’s already like a thin glass, he grabs your chin firmly and crashes his lips on yours. Fucking you harder, he devours your cute squeals and forces his tongue into your mouth to rub yours in a heated kiss. Saliva dribbles down the side of your mouth, pleasure losing your logical mind into oblivion.
Against any reason and all of your principles, you wrap your arms around him and scratch his back as he knows exactly how to make you squirm in bliss. His cock abuses your pussy so perfectly that you can’t seem to remember that there’s no one you despise as much as Touya Todoroki.
He smirks into the kiss for managing to tame your fury and reduce you to a moaning mess. Adjusting his position, he pulls away from you and leans his weight on his forearms. Slamming his hips against yours, he watches the pleasure written on your features as your breasts bounce back and forth. Your hooded eyes hazy as your sweet inner lips wrap around his slick-coated cock so well, so obediently.
A malicious smirk spreads on his face, canines visible as he pants in pleasure. For a moment he almost resembles the devil himself, pleased from having manufactured a treacherous deal to snatch your poor soul for his pleasure.
Suddenly he grabs your waist and manhandles you so that your legs rest on his shoulders. Leaning over you, he places his hands flat on the mattress, on both sides of your head. Slamming his hips against yours so violently that you can’t anticipate the scream that emerges. He begins to fuck you so mercilessly that tears form on the corners of your eyes as his cock hits that sweet spot inside you perfectly, forcing a loud moan after another. Needless to say, your toes curl as your orgasm nears you, making your body tremble in utter bliss.
Touya pants in pleasure as he feels your walls spasming, a debauched smile twisting his lips as a tiny drop of sweat trails down the side of his temple, “That’s it baby— Nngh— Cum on my cock,” he groans.
Your orgasm hits you stronger than ever as you come undone on his cock, walls clenching around him tightly, pulsating as waves of pleasure make your back arch. Shivers running across the surface of your skin, your body shudders like something primal inside you is freed.
“Good fucking girl,” Touya grunts while fucking you through your high. Getting more rough, merciless, he rams his cock inside your overstimulated pussy to elicit tormented screams and sinful pleasure. Thrusts beginning to be sloppy and erratic, ruthless as he nears his own end evidently.
In too deep, you can’t manage to comprehend the consequences and allow him to slam his cock deep in you, releasing his seeds in white ropes of hot cum that taints your spent walls.
“Fuck yeah,” He groans, tongue lolling out in pleasure. Taking his time to empty himself inside you, your eyes are closed as you gulp for air while a thin sheen of sweat glimmers on your skin.
Whimpering as he finally pulls out, he collapses on his back next to you. Folding his other arm behind his head, silence lingers in the aftermath as you both lie in his bed, catching your breaths.
When the haze of euphoria disappears into the air, you adopt back the rather stern demeanor, “You done?“ You ask almost rudely while still getting up as if his reply doesn’t matter.
“Pretty much,“ Touya grins lazily as he turns to observe you picking up your clothes. Moving on his side, he leans his head on the palm of his hand and watches you hastily dress yourself.
“You’re a good fuck,“ he points out crudely.
“Shut up.“
“Seriously. So when are we gonna do this again?“
You chuckle sarcastically, “And why the hell would I do that?“ You ask, glancing at him while putting on your hoodie.
Touya sits on the bed with his back against the wall, a blanket covering his lower half, “Oh, I don’t know. Probably if you want this Tamaki guy to remain unharmed,” he says, leaning his elbow on his knee and resting his cheek in the palm of his hand.
You whip your head around, “What?“
“Babe, you should always check terms and conditions properly before agreeing,” he says with a tone that’s almost reprimanding.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”
“That I never said this is a one time thing,” he points out annoyingly calmly. You stare at him in disbelief, but at the same time not surprised that he’d pull off something like this.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,“ you say mostly to yourself.
He shows a mischievous grin, “You know, if you suck my dick, I’ll buy him a new laptop.“
Your body tenses in absolute fury, hands balling into fists as his suggestion is so shamelessly casual. His lazy grin ridicules you enough to want to let all the rage burst out in all its violence, however, you narrowly manage to channel it into words.
“I fucking hate you!“ You scream so loud that it almost hurts before storming out and slamming the door behind.
Touya chuckles by himself, unbothered by your furious nature. In fact, he’s more than content with the outcome of his actions as the real reason he bullied Tamaki was only to catch your attention.
writers and artists will go "this isn't good enough." my brother in christ, you're creating something new out of nothing and expressing yourself creatively. your productivity and unrealistic standards of perfection do not define you or the worth of your art. you're doing great.
Literally just do it. Get that shit down. Doesn’t even have to make sense because you can always fix it later. Make it wordy. Make it weird. Make it rough. It doesn’t matter, it already looks great.
I hate when yall write the same kind of personality for self insert fics.
I don’t want to keep seeing the same easily flustered, no backbone, cries a lot Y/N. Here are some versions that I think would work better for each character.
Sweetheart Y/N: Caretaker, blushy, scolds character for not taking care of themselves. Best for slice of life AU’s or as a quirkless character. [Midoriya, Hawks, Dabi, Toshinori, Aizawa]
Bestie/Sacrificial Y/N: Fun, overly understanding, forgiving, compassionate, competitive. Best for angst and/or character development. [Dabi, Shigaraki, Bakugou, Aizawa, Hawks.]
More variety please & thank you 🩵 also please make it long
Edit: The way people are bitching about this post is crazy. I legitimately do not care how you write, it’s YOUR writing. But you have options, that is the point. This post was not a personal attack to ANYONE. Just have fun writing and push yourself.
Warnings: Fluff, dating, smut (blowjob, fingering, p in v, creampie, aftercare)
Summary: College au, aged up characters, Kirishima x fem!reader, Kirishima is somewhat of a soft dom - partners for a project becomes... something else...
Word Count: 6.2k
____________________________________________
"The partners for your project will be posted on the board at the beginning of tomorrow's class," Mr. Aizawa drawled in a tired voice, as usual. You wondered if he got any sleep, ever. The class collectively gathered their things and got up from their seats.
With your things in your bag, you walked out of the school and to the local coffee shop nearby, since you and Mina had planned for a day together after school. She had another class before she was done, so you grabbed out your laptop and started looking at possible topics for your research project. It was a National History Day project, except your teacher had to make it mandatory. And of course, you couldn't even choose your partners. 'I just hope I get a good partner,' you thought.
This year's theme for the project was "Turning Points in History", so a lot of major events that had a lot of evidence would be pretty good. You started to write out a list of events that would be good, when Mina walked through the door and into the shop.
"Mina!" You called out to her, getting up to give her a hug. You both have been super busy this school year, so it always feels great when you get to see each other after a while. In the embrace, you could tell she smelled like bubblegum, her favorite perfume. She wore white dress pants with a pink blouse, and her hair was down. She is one of the most fashionable people you know, and always lives up to that.
"You look so good today!" You told her, gesturing at her outfit.
"Thank you! You do too!" she said. Your outfit was not at nice as hers - just some lighter jeans with a long pink sweater on. It was funny that you were matching, without coordinating at all.
You waved her over to the table you were at, a smaller booth in the back of the shop. It was cute, and had multiple like this one - closed off on 3 sides, cute small pillows on the booth seats, and a large lamp hanging overhead. It was actually a really nice place to study.
You two sat down, and you closed your laptop as you moved back to where you were sitting.
"So how have you been? Is there any new tea?" Mina asked, a smirk poking at her lips.
"I don't know," you said. "Nothing new with people right now, thank goodness." Your luck with drama was not always the best, as it usually was more negative. Thankfully, though, there hasn't been much drama at all, so it's been good so far, and you told her this.
"There is this huge project we have to do for my history class, and the partners are assigned. I just hope I get someone good for that."
"Well, that's good," she said, her smile sweet. "I hope that any drama that comes your way is good drama that you can tell me about, and I hope your partner is who you hope it is," she said, and her sweet smile quickly became a smirk. You both laughed.
There wasn't anyone on your mind that came up at her comment, but you hoped that soon someone could fill that void.
The next class finally rolled around, and so the partners were posted on the board at the beginning of class. Since everyone was already crowded around the paper, you decided to set down your things and then come back. You maneuvered your way around the people that were done looking at it, and found yourself in front of the paper. You scrolled down the list of names.
Denki Kaminari, Sero Hanta
Bakugo Katsuki, Izuku Midoriya
Yn/Ln, Eijiro Kirishima
Kyoka Jiro, Momo Yaoyurozu
You didnt look much after that, since you saw your own name. If you were being completely honest, you didn't know a lot of these people name-to-face. You would have to find Kirishima, whoever that was. The hope that they were someone good still remained in the back of your mind as you looked around the classroom, walking back to your seat.
Once Mr. Aizawa started calling out attendance, an idea popped up in your head. You would have to pay attention to figure out who Kirishima was, especially since they would be one of the first ones to get called. A few moments passed until you finally heard Mr. Aizawa call out their name. You looked around the room to find that the person who responded was a bright red-haired guy towards the back of the class.
You realized you would have to talk to him after class, and your anxiety shot up. 'I need to push through this and just talk to him,' you thought to yourself. Calming yourself, you took out your laptop to take some notes on the requirements for the project. You didn't want to look, but you hoped that he was taking some notes of his own at least.
After you made a whole rubric and watched a few videos, you felt more prepared about the requirements.
"The next few classes will be structured so that you are learning about National History Day and the requirements for the project, because apparently I have to show you those. Also that way you aren't learning anything new while also trying to do this entire project," Mr. Aizawa stated, his tone laced with boredom and fatigue. Contrastingly, his statement brought a few smiles to the students. Class time for a project would be a great way to get ahead on it.
Tentatively, you raised your hand.
"Yes, Ms. L/N?" Mr. Aizawa asked.
"I was wondering if we would be able to move closer to our partners so that we could use this time to work with them?" you asked, your voice a lot quieter than it normally was.
"Yes, you may," he answered. "As long as you are still quiet and not making too much noise. This is supposed to be a lecture class, so it's supposed to be quiet except for me, but I'm nice today."
A nice smile was brought to your lips, despite the anxious butterflies flitting around in your stomach. You snuck a glance back up at Kirishima, and found that he was looking at you as well. Quickly you turned away, your cheeks flushing red. You realized that you needed to talk to him, though, and turned back around.
"Do you want me to move up there?" you mouthed at him. He gave you a thumbs up and a smile in response.
"Okay, you may get started," Mr. Aizawa told the class. You packed up your things other than your open laptop and got up from your seat to move closer to Kirishima.
"Hi," you said as you placed your laptop down in the seat next to him.
"Hi," he replied. Out of the corner of your eye you saw that he was looking you up and down. Your skin erupted with goosebumps, and you set down your bag behind the seat. You pulled the chair next to him out and sat down, re-logging into your laptop.
"Do you know what topic you want to do?" you asked Kirishima, turning to him. On your laptop was open the list of different topics you thought might be good.
"Right to business, huh?" he chuckled, taking a glance at your laptop. You laughed with him.
"Well, we have the time now, I'd rather use it and have to work less outside of class," you explained.
"That's... valid," he decided. "I wasn't quite sure yet, was there anything you had in mind?"
"Well..." you began.
The two of you ended up going with the Civil Rights Movement, which wasn't exactly the least common topic, but it was perfect for the theme of the project and you had decided that you were going to make the best presentation you could possibly make. Soon, though, the clock was close to the time the bell rang, and so you had decided to wrap up.
"Since we're partners for this project, do you wanna work on it outside of class? This might be the only class time we have to work on it," you told him.
"Yeah, that's fine," Kirishima said.
"Okay great," you paused, opening your phone. "Do you wanna put your number in and I can text you?"
"Yeah, sure," he said, taking your phone from your hand offering it to him. Quickly he typed in his number and his name, and then handed back your phone. It wasn't a moment too soon, either, because the bell rang right then.
"Awesome, thank you!" Closing your laptop and putting it in your bag, you shot a sweet smile at Kirishima. This time, he smiled back.
The walk back to your place wasn't that bad, and with his smile in your mind, you felt like you were back in no time.
That night you couldn't sleep. Turning over, you checked the clock, and it read:
1:03
You groaned as you turned back over. You had been doing so all night, and you were tired of it. You turned on your phone to see if you had any notifications. There weren't.
'Oh shoot,' you said aloud in the dark. Of course there weren't going to be any notifications. First of all, it was 1AM, and second of all, you were the one who had his number. Not the other way around. You went to contacts and found his name. You clicked on the info button and went to message.
'Hey, it's Y/N - can't sleep so I figured I'd text you even if you aren't up - if you see this, I was wondering if you are free tomorrow after class to work together for a bit on our project? If not it's fine, just let me know. Thanks!' You sat there with the message in the draft box, not yet sent. Finally, your 1AM self decided that it would be a great idea and sent the message. You closed the app and turned off your phone, setting it down on the nightstand next to you. Turning over once again, you closed your eyes and tried to sleep. 23 minutes later, you received a message. You grabbed your phone off of the nightstand to open a text from Kirishima:
'Yeah, of course - I have practice but I am definitely free after that. Couldn't sleep either btw' Kirishima responded.
The butterflies came out of their cocoons in your stomach at his response. You tried to calm the butterflies as you responded, but it was tough when you were trying to schedule studying with him.
'Okay, when does practice end for you?' you asked.
You saw the typing bubble pop up after he read your question.
'Around 7:30' he answered.
'Jeez, that's kinda late' you replied. 7:30 would be around dinner, possibly after depending on when you made it.
'Yeah, if you're cool with that?' he asked.
Probably making a bad decision, you replied: 'Yeah, sure - my place'
'Ok cool' he answered quickly.
':)' Ending the conversation, you sent an emoji, put your phone down, and went to attempt to sleep again.
The next day went by extremely slow.
You weren't exactly happy about the late study time, but you weren't exactly opposed, either. Throughout the day, though, you watched as the time ticked by, taking as long as it possibly could, it seems. Your classes never seemed to end, the assignments and lectures dragged on and didn't help to pass the time, either. Finally, though, you were able to pack up your things and get back to your place. On your way home, you texted Kirishima your address. He probably wouldn't see it, but it will be there when he's done with practice.
When you got home, you rewrote your notes from your classes and got started on a few papers and assignments. Once you were done, you got started on making dinner, which was around 7. You weren't exactly the best cook, so it took you a lot longer to make things, but you got it done.
You had started the sauce for spaghetti, when you heard the doorbell ring. Your roomates wouldn't be home tonight, since they were going to a party. Expecting only one person to be at the door, you walked over and opened it.
There he was. Kirishima. And he was... wet?
"Sorry I'm late, I had to shower after practice," he said. "Took me a bit longer than I wanted to."
Quickly you glanced over at the clock to see what time it was. Chuckling, you said, "It's not even 8 yet."
"Oh, shit, my clocks run a bit fast. Forgot about that," he replied sheepishly.
"That's okay," you said, moving aside so he could step through. As he did, you took your split second of a chance to glance at him up and down. He was dressed comfortably (you couldn't blame him, he was just coming from practice) in sweatpants and a black t-shirt. The t-shirt was school merch, with the logo printed large on the front.
He walked in enough to close the door, so once you did, you started walking back to the kitchen where you were finishing up making dinner.
"You can sit down in here if you want, you don't have to be a lurker," you told him, chuckling. "None of the girls are gonna be home tonight, so we have some privacy."
"Oh, sorry," he said. "I didn't want to intrude."
"That's fine, you're in here now, so you might as well get comfortable. Plus, I'm almost done with spaghetti if you want some," you offered.
"I might take you up on that offer," he said. While you stirred the sauce, you could hear him behind you sitting in one of the seats at the counter. Your laptop and a few paper sources were also over on the counter.
A few minutes later, the sauce was done, and the noodles were now in the strainer in the sink.
"How much do you want?" you asked Kirishima.
"I can get it," he said. "I don't want to take too much."
"Okay," you said, grabbing out plates from the cabinet. You left the door open so that he could grab one too, and you went to grab your own food.
You sat down at the counter where your laptop was, and when he came and sat down next to you, he said, "Wow, this looks really good y/n. Thank you."
"Of course," you replied.
Since it was already late, the study session went by pretty fast. The two of you were getting a lot of work done.
When you took a pause, you glanced over at the clock, which read: 11:24
"Oh my gosh, you need to get back and get some sleep!" you exclaimed, not realizing how long you had been working for. "We have been working for way too long!"
"It's fine, no worries," he reassured you. "You do too, though, okay?" His gaze was soft as he looked at your panicked face. He must have been tired after almost 3 hours of work, plus it being after practice. This was normal for you, but you didn't know if it was for him. His soft gaze had to have been from tiredness, you told yourself, trying to push the butterflies and blush away.
"Okay, I will, but you need to get home first." You told him.
"Alright," he decided.
Even though his room was within walking distance from yours, you drove him home (because it was so late, you told yourself. Definitely not because you like him). In the walk back to his room from your car, you both listened to the light sounds of the night. It was sweet and calming after studying for so long.
"Thanks for coming over and working with me," you told Kirishima.
"Thank you for inviting me, and your spaghetti was great, too," he told you.
"Definitely. We should do this again," you suggested.
"For sure. Maybe my place next time?" he asked.
"Yeah, sure."
"Awesome. I'll text you."
His last glance at you of the night was one where he was smiling, and it filled you up with a warmth inside that you couldn't get rid of all the way home. That warmth helped you to sleep better than you had most nights at school yet.
3 weeks later and almost completely done with your project, you closed your laptop for the night. Kirishima was next to you, finishing up his last bit he needed for the presentation.
"This Friday was a bit rough, huh?" Kirishima asked you.
"Yeah, definitely. Classes lately have not been fun," you replied, a small smile sneaking onto your face.
"Glad we're almost done, though - this project will definitely be worth it once we're entirely finished," he commented.
"I did enjoy spending this time together, though," you said, trying to bring a positive aspect back to the topic.
"Same, I'm really glad we're partners," Kirishima said, his face flushing a pink where normally you never saw that. He turned away quickly, and you did too, smiling a bit at his blush.
Tonight you were dressed a bit nicer, since you were coming from dinner with an old friend, and you decided not to change. He was dressed nicer too, but you weren't quite sure why. It was definitely getting to you though, since normally you both dressed casual when you studied together.
"Hey," he said, clearing his throat. "Um, so normally I would ask if you wanted to study sometime this weekend, but since we're almost done with the project, would you like to go on a date with me instead?"
Immediately your heart swelled, suddenly your stomach was filled with hundreds of flitting butterflies and your face was hot, blush lighting up your face with red.
"Yes, I would love to," you said, the wave of joy finally breaking with a huge ecstatic smile on your face.
Kirishima's face lit up with red, almost as bright as his fiery hair. He proceeded to celebrate by jumping into the air as high as he could, pumping his fists in the air.
"YES! Okay, awesome!" He almost yelled, his excitement making you giggle.
"Okay, I'll pick you up tomorrow, then?"
"Yes, I'm free tomorrow so that should be okay," you told him, a cheesy grin stuck on your face. "Text me any other details I might need, okay?"
"Okay, awesome," he replied, his excitement still clearly showing on his face, also still bright red as well.
Soon after that he drove home, and when he stepped out the door to leave, you closed the door and pressed your back against it, standing there for a minute with a wild grin. Your emotions were running high, and you stepped away from the door only to jump around cheering in your front hallway for a bit.
The next day was the longest you have ever been through. He texted you in the morning that he was going to pick you up at 6, and that you could dress casual (because you asked him what you needed to wear). However, after waking up at 8 with a free day ahead of you, you didn't know what to do with yourself. Somehow, though, you managed to fill your day (partly because you were in a call with Mina half the morning, describing the situation and her giving you advice) and you were ready by 5:30 for Kirishima to arrive. You had decided to wear a dressier t-shirt with leggings.
Before 6:00 rolled around, Kirishima got to your place and walked up to your door, and before he got to knock on it (he took a second to hype himself up before he knocked on your door), you opened it and saw him standing there in a cute white shirt with black pants on. The outfit accentuated his figure well, and you could tell he was strong, and his muscles were toned. His bright red hair was fluffy, like he normally has it, and he donned a cute smile as he checked you out as well.
"Wow... you look really pretty," he said, blush creeping onto his cheeks. Your eyes were planted on his, and you could see he couldnt take his off of your shirt, which was a low, V-cut shirt and helped to show off your cleavage a bit.
You laughed as you replied, "Thank you, you do too."
This finally brought his eyes back up to your face, and the blush that was creeping up just onto his cheeks now covered his entire face as he realized he was totally caught.
"I'm sorry, you just... your outfit is- it's-" he stuttered, trying to explain himself.
"It's okay, I'm the one who wore the outfit," you told him. "Come on, take me where you want to, Kiri," you walked out the door and past him.
After a second he followed you back to his car, and he unlocked it so you both could get in.
The ride there wasn't very long, so you only got through a bit of small talk before you saw he was taking you to a mini-put course. You smiled as the memories of the last few times you had gone mini-putting, and you thought it was very cute that it would also be your first date with Kirishima.
The man who checked the two of you in was old, and he could tell that you were on a date together. He had a very dopey smile on while you both got putters and balls, and when you were walking out the door, he called, "Have fun, you lovebirds!" When the door shut, both of your faces were bright red, but you looked at each other and burst out into laughter.
Still laughing, you walked over to the first hole. This one was probably the easiest, being the most straightforward with only a few obstacles. After that, though, it only got harder.
The theme of the place was cute - it was a bit plain, being that it was outdoors-themed, with a few water features, but it was cute and it was fun. There were only a couple other people there, one group being a cute older couple that was almost done by the time you and Kirishima had started, and the other group being a small family that was about mid-way through the course. It was nice, though, because it meant that the two of you could go at your own pace, and talk about the things you wanted to, and just have fun together without any interruptions.
At each hole, you tried to get Kiri to go first so that you could stand behind him and sneak a few looks. Sometimes it worked, but other times he would catch you and laugh, or he would refuse (so that he could do the same thing, even though you definitely caught him more times than he caught you).
The evening was filled with laughter, teasing, and fun, and in the end, you both tied. At the last hole, Kirishima was in the lead by 1, and his first putt missed the hole by inches. He ended with 2 on the last hole. When your last turn came up, you gave it your best shot, even though you thought you weren't going to win. Your ball ended up making it in one shot, and when you went to pick up your ball out of the hole, Kirishima was there, his mouth wide open in shock. In the adrenaline of your comeback, you walked over to him.
"Cat's game," you whispered in his ear, planted a quick kiss on his cheek, and gently closed his jaw as you did so.
Quickly you walked back into the check-in building, the heat in your cheeks rising extremely fast after that. You put back your ball and putter, told the older man that you would be right back, and rushed to the restroom. While you were in there, you took a second and washed your hands, calming yourself down.
You hadn't bothered to see if Kirishima followed you into the building, so when he burst into the bathroom, you were only half shocked. The shock only hit you when you turned around, your back to the sink, and he grabs your hips.
"Can I kiss you?" He asks, his face red with blush, his voice deep, but a little desperate.
"Yes," you responded, your voice shaky with shock and emotion. The clash of his lips against yours was electric, sparking throughout your body. One of his hands reaches up to your cheek, while the other stays at your hip. Slowly, the one at your hip moves from its position towards your stomach, where he slides his hand underneath your shirt and up, his thumb brushing against the bottom of your cleavage. At the same time, he moves his lips from yours and towards your jaw, moving down to your neck. He finds your sweet spot and begins to suck, earning a small moan from you.
"Kiri.." you start, but trail off when he continues.
"Don't worry, no one's coming," he says, trying to reassure you.
"Kiri, no," you pause, making him stop. "I want you, and I want more, I just don't want it here, in this bathroom at a mini-putt-course."
His bright red eyes change from hurt to confusion, to bright again when you tell him this.
"Ohhh," he says, pulling away gently. "Shoot, and I still have to pay for the date, too. Good idea," he commends you, which earns a laughing smile from you both.
Thankfully, when you leave the bathroom, the old man is turned around, reading something. Together, you walk up to the counter. Kiri pays for the time at the course, and together again you walk out and to his car.
When you sit down, Kiri takes a second before he starts the car to move your hair out of your face and behind your ear. The contact is filled with electricity, and makes you shiver, only being able to hope he didn't notice. After putting the car into drive and pulling out of the parking lot, he puts his hand on your thigh, and you shiver even worse than you did seconds ago, goosebumps lighting up your skin. Discreetly, you try and close your knees to hide the heat pooling between your legs. You realize it doesn't quite work, though, when you see his smirk, and he proceeds to move his hand a bit further up.
Once you get to his place, he moves his hand from your thigh to put the car in park, and you immediately miss the contact. You don't have to miss it for long, though, when you get inside.
The door barely closes before his hands and his lips are on you again, making your skin light up with electricity. He starts to suck on your sweet spot again, which also earns another moan from you. You can barely get out the next few words, he's making you feel so good already.
"Kiri.." you try to tell him. This time it works - his head perks up, ready to listen to you.
"Kiri, where is your room?"
The simple question ignites a fire in his eyes, lust being the fuel. Quickly and easily, he picks you up so that he is holding you by your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck to help him, and he takes you to his room.
Gently, he places you on the bed, where you take a breath before you kiss him again, pulling him down on top of you. He takes this and moves his hand onto you again, one on the bed by your head, the other carefully placed against your stomach. Your hands are in his hair, tugging and pulling it, showing him how much more you want.
Once again, he moves his hand up and under the bottom of your shirt, just underneath the cup of your bra, his thumb barely brushing it. The slight touch sparks electricity through your body, and it pools in your core.
You push back at his collar, and he lets you sit up enough to take off your shirt. His eyes are on you the whole time, and once you get it off, his jaw drops once more.
"Holy shit, you're beautiful," he says, still not taking his eyes off of you.
"Hold on a minute, though," he continues, once you reach out towards his collar again. "Are you sure you want this?"
The question brings back that warmth he shared from his smile weeks ago, and it was something even as simple as asking for consent. That warmth ensured that the fire burning inside of you right now would never go out.
"Kiri, I have wanted you since the first day we became partners for that project," you stated. "Yes, I am sure I want this."
"Okay, good, because I have, too," he says, and as you finally pull him down onto you, at the last second you flip him over so that he is on the bed and you're on top.
He grins wildly as you start unbuttoning his pants, and he helps you by taking off his shirt and tossing it to the side.
You pull down his boxers to reveal his erection, and his huge cock. Your core throbs at the sight, and you fight the urge to lick your lips, failing miserably.
When you place your lips around the tip of his length, Kiri throws his head back with a loud moan. Slowly, you start to bob your head up and down, sucking gently as you did. Your hand stroked the rest of him as well, and you could tell the sensation was doing lots of things to Kirishima. He was moaning so loud, you were sure the neighbors could hear, but you didn't want to stop. Kiri tried (and failed) not to thrust up into your throat, but you didn't mind it too much.
"Im.. so close-" he said, just a few seconds before you felt his white hot release in your mouth. When you were sure you had sucked him dry, you swallowed, earning yourself another groan and a wild grin from Kirishima.
"My turn," he said. He helps you to unclasp your bra, your cleavage falling out and bouncing in front of his face. Quickly he flipped you over, so that you were underneath him, your back against the bed. Contrastingly slow, he pulled your leggings down your legs, revealing your underwear and soaking pussy.
"Wow, all for me?" He started, pulling aside your underwear and rubbing a single finger through your folds. This immediately follows by a groan from you.
"Yes- Kiri, all for- for you," you just barely manage to stutter out once he puts that finger inside of you and starts to pump it in and out. The action makes you bite your lip, trying to stop the loud moans escaping you.
When Kiri sees this, he grabs your chin and pulls it to face him, still not stopping his fingers inside of you.
"Don't hide your voice, I want to hear every single sound you make tonight. And no one is going to hear but me," he says, and you let go, loud moans breaking free from your lips.
"Atta girl," he praises, which only goes down to your pussy, where he adds another finger inside of you now. He hits your G-spot every time, curling his fingers just so that he can get it. And he definitely does - you were close to your release.
"Kiri-" you warn, feeling the string of ecstacy being pulled tight, about to snap. "Don't stop-"
You gasp as your orgasm hits you like a waterfall, ecstacy and electricity rushing through you as that string snaps. You cum on his fingers, the stringy substance coating his fingers thickly. You ride your orgasm out on his fingers, and once you're done, he puts his fingers in his mouth and tastes your sweet release.
"You taste so fucking sweet," he praises you. You're still panting from your orgasm off his fingers, and it doesn't help when he pulls your underwear off your hips, tosses it to the floor, and pushes your legs up so that your knees are almost touching your shoulders.
He lines up his cock with your entrance, and your eyes widen as you realize you are about to take his monster of a cock inside you. He passes through your folds a few times before he slowly enters you, one inch at a time. He gets through just the tip before he stops so that you can adjust to the pleasant burn he gives you. Once you're adjusted well, he pushes inside of you just an inch further. He pushes down to the hilt inside of you, and you gasp again as his dick hits your cervix easily.
You adjust to the burn quickly, and thankfully because he begins to pump in and out of you, earning multiple pornographic moans from you. You can feel the buildup of pressure already, building up like a wall about to crash.
Kirishima drives into your pussy, moans releasing from both of you as you get closer to your high. His hands roam your body, one cupping and kneadind your breast and nipple, the other holding onto your waist.
He fucks into you harder and harder, faster and faster, until you can feel the cracks in the wall, a dam about to burst. Your moans mesh together as you both reach your high simultaneously. The dam breaks, erupting as his does too, resulting in a mix of his and your release together at the base of his cock, still hilt deep inside of you. Your legs shake from your release, and the last few pumps of your orgasms fall out of you both.
You lay on the bed in ecstacy as Kirishima pulls out of your ruined pussy, gets up from you and goes to the bathroom to cleanup. He comes back with a towel for you, and helps you to clean up the mess that is the two of you. Once he is done, he puts your previously discarded clothes into the hamper, and gives you a pair of shorts and a too-big shirt for you to wear, and he changes into a loose shirt and boxers as well. He helps you change, and when the two of you are done, he climbs into the bed next to you and places a kiss on your forehead.
"So, does this mean I'm your boyfriend now?" He whispers. You turn around and push his forehead lightly back to play with him.
"I think we need to play another game to determine that," you reply, a coy smile playing at your lips, despite recent events.
"Or..." Kiri trails off, trying to think of a comeback or an easier situation.
"Or... what?" You tease him, giggling as you watch his eyes light up with an idea.
"Or I could just fuck you again, except harder," he states, and this time you can't tell if he's serious or not.
"Harder?" You whisper, thinking about how he could possibly do that after what he did tonight.
"Yeah, although we might have to wait until the morning to do that, cause then you can walk," he says, his tone nothing but factual. He places one last kiss on your cheek this time, spooning you in the bed. The kiss makes the warmth inside of you burn brighter, never to go out again.
