contents: mdni, smut, all characters are 18+, fem!reader, dom!megumi, soft!megumi towards end, praise kink (use of “good girl”, “be good”, etc.), breeding kink, lots of cum, slight daddy kink, light mentioning of baby trapping, fingering, light degradation (use of “cum dump”), dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy, a lil bit of aftercare, dumbification, megumi just trying to knock you up, this was filthyyyyy.
blush’s notes: this is for this amazeballs request!! im so down bad for megumi, its not even a joke. i wish he was real. creds to @kodaswrld for the cute divider!
you don’t even know what round you’re on or how many times you’ve came. all you know is how good megumi’s pelvis slams into your ass and his dick reaching spots you didn’t even know existed in you.
your man’s got you in a mean arch, face down and perfect ass up. his large, veiny hands hold your soft waist like it’s a rein to throw you back onto his aching dick.
“fuckkkk, baby… you’re so warm, so tight… i’ll make sure to breed this pussy full, angel, i swear…” megumi mutters filthily.
you let out an harmonious arrangement of slutty moans and cute whimpers into your drool-stained pillow.
his cock twitches inside of you, perpetually leaking pre into your overloaded pussy. there was a white frothing at his base and sperm’s leaking out of you from the previous rounds.
he lowly grunts when you clench impossibly tighter around him. tension builds up in your stomach, cunt throbbing for release.
“g-gumi…! nghhh!! i- ha! ‘m gonna—“ you hiccup, tears running down your soft cheeks.
your boyfriend doesn’t stop, in fact he picks up the pace, slamming his dick even deeper and harder into you.
he bends over, his chest to your arched back to rudely grope a tit. another hand snakes in between your thighs to rub at your swollen clit.
you could feel his warm breath against your ear as he murmurs so sweetly, “i know, baby, i know. i got you. cum for me, princess, yeah?”
you came all over his swollen dick immediately when he finishes his sentence, screaming his name into your cotton pillow.
and megumi continues to fuck you like you’re his horny angel that heaven sent for him to take care of. like you’re his one true salvation in such an ugly world of chaos.
“fuck, fuck, fuck— baby, be a good girl and take my cum. take every single drop. be a good cum dump and lemme fuck! put my babies in you—“
he buries himself to the hilt in your warmth and gravelly groans into your shoulder. the welcoming feeling of his sperm filling you up again makes you feel like on cloud nine.
though your pussy is biblical levels of greedy when it comes to megumi’s cock and cum, there is just so much cum your pussy can hold in.
a spurting noise bubbles out before his cum starts leaking down your thighs and onto the ruined sheets.
but megumi is quick to use his fingers to scoop up the load and shove it back into you, making you feel impossibly more fuller, eliciting a sweet moan from your lips.
he plugs your stuffed cunt with his rough fingers. he mumbles, “you gotta keep it all in, sweetheart. gotta make sure it takes.”
you wanna protest and ask him just how could it be possible to keep his bucketloads of cum in your tiny pussy.
but instead, a divine whine is forced out your pretty mouth when your boyfriend starts fingering you.
more of his load leaks out and he has the audacity to tut like it’s somehow your fault, “angel, you’re spilling it all out. guess we gotta do it again.”
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
“ahhhh!! g-gumi!! i- ha! ngh!! too deep—! hnghhh!! too big!! g-gumi!!”
“don’t worry your pretty head, baby. just take it. you’ll look sooo good pregnant with my babies.”
megumi’s got you in a mean mating press. your knees are pinned to the sheets, brushing against your ears with his large, veiny hands holding your legs.
this angle makes you feel his dick wayyyy deeper.
you angelically cry out with your head tossing about, his tip pounding into your cervix. megumi thinks you look so pretty like this.
his navy blue eyes trace over your delicate fucked out face. your glossy lips shining with all the drool and spit the two of you exchanged. your pretty glassy eyes on the brink of rolling back. your cheeks all rosy and glowy.
you really are a blessing in human form. a gift from above just for him.
god, you also make his dick hurt. a lot. he’s been fucking you for hours and he’s still hard.
“gumiiiii!! haaa— i— eeekk!!!” you’re just babbling nonsense at this point, too fucked out to figure out if you’re cumming or not.
megumi pants against your mouth, whispering manically, “gon’ make me a daddy, aren’t ya, baby? ‘m gonna breed you and shit! you’ll never be able to leave me. ah fuck… just take it, angel, be good and take it.”
his words are going in one ear and out the other. you sweetly wail the only thing you could comprehend, “daddyyyy?”
it’s like music to his ears. he hoarsely groans, “yeahhh, baby. you’d make such a great mommy for our babies. i’ll keep you and our children safe, angel, i swear it— shit, shit, shit! ‘m gon’ cum.”
sperm spurts out and the heavenly feeling of his cum bloating up your stomach hits you like a nth orgasm.
his loads are still seeping out of your hole despite him still inside you.
your man stills inside of you, the two of you huffing against each other’s lips before he closes the gap to press the most gentle, loving kiss.
megumi pulls away, brushing the hairs out of your face tenderly.
he whispers softly, “you alright, pretty girl?”
you muster up the energy to nod, your entire body reduced to noodles.
he presses another kiss to your cheek before splaying a large, warm hand onto your bloated stomach, rubbing it carefully.
to his satisfaction, it already looks like you’re pregnant, stuffed to the brim with his cum.
your man quietly murmurs, “our children will look just as beautiful as you, angel. hopefully, they’ll have your eyes.”
he gives you another kiss, pouring all his love, his entire soul into it before holding you close. his cock softens inside you, plugging you up snugly and keeping the goodies inside.
“i love you.” he whispers, barely audibly before sleep takes you away.
CW: NSFW (18+) MNDI, smut, con!sex between married adults, dom/sub dynamic, edging, overstimulation, dirty talk, emotional neglect, angst with resolution, firebending during sex, p in v, fingering,
Synopsis: For months he fulfilled every duty the Fire Lord demanded of him. He forgot the ones that mattered to you. You said nothing, until the night you couldn’t anymore. And Zuko, your husband, finally looked at you. Really looked. Now the candles are burning low in the royal chambers and he is determined to remind you of everything he let you forget.
˚ˋঌ˖
Being the firelord meant a lot of responsibility. Rebuilding his nation, taking care of his people and keeping peace. You understood that, however lately you felt alone in the big palace. Wandering alone down those empty halls, visiting the turtle duck ponds and always accompanied by servants when all you wanted was to be near your husband.
During the day Zuko is always away attending council meetings, the four nations summits, at night he comes tired to your bed chambers and without so much of a word, he would turn over and sleep. By the time you wake up he is already gone. You didn’t feel like his wife anymore, more like a roommate he is simply sharing a bed with.
It wasn’t always like that in the beginning either.
He’d make time for you, go for walks, visit ember island, involve you in the council meetings, but started to slowly stop. You felt like he was drifting away. His warmth gone cold, his demeanour stoic. Even then when he was busy, you were able to tell yourself he loves you and that he is just busy and that it was only for a couple of days.
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months.
You tried initiating conversations, plan things to do with him, press your hands to his tired shoulders- anything to show him you cared about him, but it was always rejected with his excuse being how tired he was. You don’t even remember the last time he has touched you. You felt so alone until uncle Iroh.
You enjoyed company with uncle Iroh whenever he visited, always giving advice and making jokes over his pai sho. He’d always ask about the both of you and you’d give him a tight smile and say everything is fine. This time he didn’t buy it.
Pouring a cup of jasmine tea for you he spoke, “My nephew, he hasn’t been there for you lately. Has he?” You froze, the reassurance already forming on your lips . “He’s the fire lord uncle, he has important matters to attend to.” You take a sip of the tea avoiding answering the question directly.
Uncle Iroh sighs, “He does. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t important either. Even if my nephew completes his duties as fire lord with ease, abandoning his duties as a husband to you isn’t good.” He takes a sip of his own tea, the silence welcomed as your thoughts ran wild.
“Child, talk to me. You can’t hold your worries to yourself forever.” You hesitate biting your lips and playing with your fingers avoiding his gaze. Uncle Iroh’s calloused and warm hands take yours delicately . His face calm with a gentle smile across his face, “I promise I won’t tell my nephew what you say to me.” As he said that tears you have been holding back welled in your eyes. Everything spilled out before you could stop it with so much ease not realising how much you had to say.
“But he’s the fire lord, I never told him how I felt because I don’t want to add on to his burdens. I’m supposed to be his peace.” You whispered looking back at the pond.
“But if you aren’t at peace with your burdens and yourself, you can’t be his peace either. Because my child, resentment takes time to build in your heart.” You look up at him eyes widening, “I know you love my nephew, and I know you don’t resent him either,” Uncle Iroh clarifies chuckling before his expression becomes serious, “But the longer you hold it in you, it will eventually build up.”
Feeling suddenly small and exhausted by all of it you ask him what you should do. Uncle Iroh clears his throat, “Talk to him tonight, no matter the excuse he makes. Make sure he hears you and don’t hold back. Sometimes what Zuko needs is confrontation.” You carefully take in what uncle Iroh said. You were scared and anxious thinking about confronting him. What would he say? What would he do? Would it change anything? Maybe it was a bad idea- No. Uncle Iroh was right.
Sometimes Fire lord Zuko does need some confrontation.
˚ˋঌ˖
You were waiting for him well past sun down, you planned to talk to him over dinner but you were left alone, again. It only sharpened your resolve.
Going to your bed chamber you got ready for bed with the help of the castle servants. In your silk robe, your hair brushed and braided. Pacing back and forth across the room, your frustration building up.
You were going to speak to him calmly of course, but the anticipation, the weight of finally having decided to say something was eating you alive.
The doors creaked open and walked in Zuko. His long hair half up half down with his head piece on top, wearing his royal armour. He barely glanced at you as he begins shrugging off his armour, draping it over a chair like he had all the time in the world.
You take a deep breath to calm yourself, before asking him, “How was your day?” His answer short, “Busy.” That was it. No details about his day, not even asking how your day was. You clench your fist against your sides. “Zuko. We need to talk.” You firmly say making him freeze his movements.
You were always gentle and soft with him, never have you ever used a firm tone with him. He finally glances at you, his expression barely shifting . “Not now, I’m tired.”
Something in your chest pulled tight and hollow. You were about to give up and just go back to bed. Uncle Iroh’s words rang through your head loudly before gritting your teeth you said, “No. I can’t handle it anymore.”
Zuko turns to face you, for once actually looking at you, not just a thoughtless glance. He opened his mouth but you interrupted him, “I haven’t spent time with you for months, Zuko. I barely get to see you.” You start off strong, holding back your tears, your voice confident.
“I have my duties to attend to.” He sighed rubbing his temples. “I know that! But what about your duties to me?! ” Your voice cut off ringing loudly throughout the room taking Zuko by surprise.
“What has gotten into—“ you interrupt, “I miss my husband.” You whisper.
Zuko froze, your voice quiet but your words heavy. You continue, looking up at him, “I understand being the fire lord means you will deal with a lot. I have, I really have. But I feel like a shadow now. I don’t remember the last time we went on a walk, you asking me about my day, or the way you used to look at me.” Your voice cracked as a lump begins to form in your throat.
“I go to bed with you yet I feel as if I am in bed with a total stranger. The next morning you are gone.” You lick your dry lips chest rising and falling heavily.
“I have been excusing everything, saying it would be for a few days, but it’s been months.”
Zuko listened in silence his heart clenching at the pain in your voice. He has seen you weathered before but never so broken, not like this. Your smile replaced with a sad expression, your eyes, usually so bright, now glassed with tears. Your strong yet soft voice now breaking and struggling to even talk.
“Every time I reached for you it felt like reaching in to nothing. I was able to convince myself before that you still love me because you made me feel loved no matter how busy you were!” Your cries grow louder as you finally get to say words you have been holding back.
“As much as the fire nation needs their fire lord, I need you too.” You place your hand against your aching heart trying to comfort yourself.
“I-“ Zuko begins but you don’t let him talk. “I dont believe you love me anymore Zuko.” Tears finally spill down your cheeks. You clutched your face in shame as if you could hide from the weight of what you said. Zuko stood there, frozen in the middle of the room, watching you fall apart in a way he didn’t know how to stop.
You were always so soft, so steady — the kind of calm that had always quietly anchored him — but that stillness had cracked clean open, and what poured out of it was so raw, so unguarded, that it almost hurt to look at.
His brows pulled together, shame settling over his features like a shadow, because he had done this, chipped away at you slowly, meeting by meeting, absence by absence, and the proof of it was right there on your face, vulnerable in a way he never wanted to be the cause of. I did this, he thought, the words pressing into his chest like a brand, heavy and wordless.
Zuko crossed the room slowly, to you. He didn’t know what to say, he never did, not for things like this, so he said nothing at first, just reached out to hold you and bring you closer to him. Watching you cry felt like swallowing embers. He knew it was his fault, had known it for weeks, somewhere beneath the council meetings and the dispatches and the endless noise of being Fire Lord.
But for you to think that he didn’t love you ignited a flame in his heart. He was angry, angry because he made you truly believe that he didn’t care, because he was too careless to actually show how much he missed you too.
You felt his warm body envelop you in a hug as you continued to cry your heart out. You didn’t reject his touch, you embraced it. Your shoulders shook against him, he silently waited, his hand cradling the back of your head.
Your sobs slowly quieting, you look up at him, eyes red, puffy and wet from crying, your lips swollen. Zuko looks down at you, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes intense and unreadable.
His jaw tightened, a muscle feathering at the side of his face. He opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again. “You thought I stopped loving you.” It wasn’t a question. His voice was low, rough at the edges, like the words had scraped on the way out.
You lowered your gaze but he caught your chin gently, tilting your face back up to his. His golden eyes searched yours, intense and unwavering.
“I owe you an apology.” He said it plainly, no decoration, no excuse trailing behind it. “I failed you. Not as the Fire Lord, as your husband. And I-” his voice faltered for just a moment, “I hate that I made you feel that way. That you had to convince yourself I still loved you.”
A fresh tear slipped down your cheek and he caught it with his thumb, his hand staying cupped against your face.
“I missed you too.” He admitted, almost quietly, like it cost him something to say it out loud. “Every night I came home and you were there and I said nothing. I did nothing. And that was unforgivable of me.”
“Zuko-”
“No.”
His eyes darkened, something shifting behind them. “You stood there and told me you didn’t think I loved you anymore.” His thumb traced your cheekbone, his touch gentle but his gaze anything but.
“Do you have any idea what that did to me?” Your breath caught. He leaned in slowly, his forehead coming to rest against yours, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “Let me show you.”
His lips found yours before you could say another word, not gentle, not tentative, but with the kind of urgency that had been building for months.
His hands moved from your face into your hair, tilting your head back, and for a moment you forgot how to breathe. You pulled back just slightly, searching his eyes. They were dark, the gold in them burning low and steady like embers refusing to die out.
“Zuko-” “I know.”
He said it softly, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth, your cheek, the curve of your jaw.
“I know.”
His arms wound around your waist pulling you flush against him, and you felt the tension in his body, coiled and restless, the exhaustion of the day entirely gone. His forehead dropped to your shoulder for just a moment, his breath warm against your skin.
“I’m not tired anymore.” He murmured, and you understood exactly what he meant. He walked you back slowly until the backs of your knees met the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving yours, one hand coming up to trace the collar of your silk robe with a deliberateness that made your breath unsteady. He looks deep into your eyes seeking for any form of hesitation.
“May i?” He asked.
You nodded, not being able to form words. He helped you slip out of your night dress, revealing your naked body in the dim lights. His breath caught in this throat, you were more beautiful than the setting sun. Has it been that long?
He takes his time taking your appearance in, making you so shy. You turn your flushed face away when he catches your chin making you meet his intense gaze.
“ I have a lot to make up for.” His voice was low, his golden eyes dark and fixed entirely on you.
“And I intend to.”
You felt it before you fully understood it, a warmth that had nothing to do with the night air, blooming from everywhere he touched you. His hands, his lips, the press of his bare chest against yours. He had always run warm but this was different.
This was him, unguarded, the careful restraint he carried like armour quietly dissolving.
The candles across the room flickered without a draft, their flames stretching tall for just a moment before settling. You glanced at them and then back at him. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, he had noticed too.
“Sorry.” He breathed. “Don’t be.” You whispered.
Something in him shifted at that. His palm came up to cup your face, and you felt it then, a gentle, deliberate warmth pooling from his hand into your skin, tender and unhurried, like sunlight. Not fire. Nothing sharp or dangerous. Just him, choosing to let you feel what he usually kept contained.
“I missed you.” He said it against your lips, quiet and wrecked. “I missed you and I was right there and I still-” He stopped, his forehead falling against yours, collecting himself.
You brought your hand up to rest over his chest, feeling the heat of him beneath your palm, steadier now, like a hearthfire finding its rhythm.
“Then stop missing me.” You whispered.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, golden eyes dark and unbearably focused, and whatever restraint remained dissolved entirely.
His lips to yours, nipping and biting, missing it so much after so long. Heat followed every movement of his hands and lips, the coolness of the room contrasting against each other. A sigh filled with need escapes his lips as he bends down and gently places his head against your globes. Instinctively you reach out and cradle his head in to it. He has truly missed it so much.
His breath was unsteady against your skin, Zuko, who had faced war councils without flinching, undone completely. You felt every exhale like a confession.
His lips moved slowly against your cleavage. Like he was refusing to let a single moment go to waste. Each press said what he’d failed to say across all those long, hollow nights,
I know. I know. I’m here now.
Your fingers tightened in his hair and he exhaled sharply against you, the sound catching in his throat. Less a man in control. More a man finally allowing himself not to be.
He lifted his head, golden eyes finding yours. Nothing guarded in them. No crown, no council, no weight he’d let swallow him whole for months. Just him — the version of Zuko that had always belonged only to this room, only to you.
Your thumb found the scar along his face without thinking. Muscle memory. He turned into it immediately, eyes closing, like something in him physically eased at the touch.
When he looked at you again his jaw was set, not in anger. In intention.
His hands moved to your hips, grip firm and warm, and he guided you back slowly against the bed, following you down without breaking eye contact, caging you in with both arms.
“I’ve got you.” Low. Certain. A promise with no room for doubt.
His lips gently presses against yours once more, hot yet gentle like he is holding himself back. He takes your wrists in his palms moving them beside your head. He pushes your legs apart with his knees and stays in between, his hardening cock brushing against your wetting core. He presses a finger against your lips, “Suck it, my love.”
Your breath caught in your throat, a forgotten name he whispered crashed over you. Staring deeply in to his eyes you take his finger in your mouth slowly sucking it in. Zuko hummed watching you, his cock twitching in his pants, begging to be free.
But tonight was about you, his wife.
You release his finger with a pop, gently he presses against your wet entrance. “Already soaking for me.” He whispers to himself looking down as his digit entered you.
You gasped when he began slowly pumping his finger into you, your walls clenching around him as he curled it deliberately.
“So warm. So tight.” His voice was rough against your skin. “I wonder if you can still take my cock when this is how you feel around just my finger.”
He was teasing you now, teeth grazing the shell of your ear, his hot tongue dragging along your jaw, lips pressing slow and deliberate against your neck. A soft moan escaped you as you cradled his head, your back arching sharply when he added a second finger. You were so wet it slipped in without resistance.
His pace began to build — slow, intentional pumps that found the same spot and refused to leave it.
“Zuko- it feels so-nghh! So good!”
He smiled against your skin, something quieter than a smirk. “Good. I was afraid I’d forgotten how.” The words carried more weight than he probably intended.
He kissed his way down your chest, taking a hardened nipple into his mouth like it was something he’d been starving for, sucking slow and deliberate, his tongue flicking, teeth grazing just enough to make you shiver. His breath came out scorching against your skin as he pulled you deeper into his mouth.
The combination of his fingers and his tongue was unraveling you thread by thread. You shuddered, goosebumps rising across your skin, toes curling into the silk sheets beneath you.
His face was flushed when he pressed his nose against you, inhaling slowly like he was grounding himself in you.
“My love.. hmm- you smell so good.” A groan, low and helpless. His cock was throbbing and ignored in his pants. That didn’t matter. Not yet. Not tonight.
Pressure began to coil low in your stomach. Your moans came faster, less controlled, your body shuddering in waves. The dual sensation of his mouth on your chest and his fingers deep in your core was euphoric, and then his thumb found your clit, pressing slow, gentle circles against it.
You whimpered, startled by how sharp it hit.
“So needy.” His voice was soft. Not mocking, almost apologetic. “Has it really been that long? Don’t worry, love. I’m here now.”
Your hips lifted instinctively, chasing him, and he gave you exactly what you were asking for, driving his fingers deeper, thumb never faltering. He leaned over you then, his dark hair cascading around you both like a curtain, blocking out everything that wasn’t him.
“My gorgeous wife.”
He said it like he was reminding himself. Like he needed to hear it out loud.
He captured your lips and didn’t let go. Your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders as his fingers drew you closer and closer to the edge. Every moan that left you he swallowed hungrily, his quiet hums vibrating through your chest, his tongue sliding against yours, his body a furnace pressed to your skin.
The fire in your stomach crested, violent and sudden.
“Z-zuko.. hah! I’m coming—” A whimper into his mouth.
He pulled back just enough. “Come for me.” Barely a whisper against your lips. “Come for me, my wife.”
Your vision went white. Your body arched and shook, walls clenching around his fingers as he worked you through every wave, slow and steady, refusing to let go until you had given him everything.
You were still trembling, still buzzing with the aftershock of your release, when Zuko spread your thighs apart.
His touch was warm. His face was flushed. Every exhale left him in a faint curl of steam, involuntary and telling. He rutted his cock against your core, still clothed, just barely, a damp patch darkening the fabric, and the groan it dragged from him was low and pained. His fingers pressed firm into your thighs. Your lips shaped his name over and over without permission.
Then he pulled back and stripped slowly, deliberately.
He wanted you to look. So you did.
His body was all hard lines and warm brown skin in the candlelight, a thin sheen of sweat tracing every muscle, the deep cut of his hips drawing your eye downward to where he was hard and heavy and wanting tip flushed, veins prominent, aching for you.
He lined himself up at your entrance. His voice, when it came, was trembling.
“Tonight I’ll show you how much I love you.”
One thrust. That was all it took.
The stretch of him knocked the breath from your lungs, overwhelming and achingly familiar all at once, a feeling your body remembered even when your heart had begun to doubt. A broken sound escaped you before you could swallow it, and his arms tightened around you immediately.
He didn’t move. Not yet.
He couldn’t — not with the way you felt around him. Warm and real and his.
He had forgotten. Somewhere between the councils and the correspondence and the weight of a crown he never asked for, he had let himself forget this existed. That you existed, like this, wanting him, taking him in, still here after everything.
A stuttering breath fell from his lips.
“I’ll show you how much I’ve missed you.” Unsteady. Fractured. Like the words cost him something.
Then something shifted in his eyes.
His large hands spread your thighs wider, his gaze dropping, dark and consuming, stripped of everything but hunger. When he spoke again his voice had fallen to something low and rough and barely restrained.
“You’re going to take all of me tonight.”
He drove forward and didn’t stop
No hesitation. No easing in. His hips snapped into a punishing rhythm like a dam finally breaking, calloused hands locking your waist in place, holding you exactly where he needed you.
Your walls clenched and yielded around him in turns, pulling him back in with every withdraw like your body refused to let him go. Your eyes rolled. Coherent thought dissolved entirely.
“Ngh!!.. Zuko- ah! h-harder-”
The word had barely left your lips before something in him broke completely.
He pinned your wrists to either side of your head and fell apart. There was no other way to describe it, the way his hips rolled into you, hard and desperate and utterly without restraint, like a man with nothing left to protect.
His cock drove into you at an angle that made you jolt, a croaked moan tearing from your throat at every thrust. When your body began sliding back with the force of it he caught you immediately.
“No, no, nooo, my love,”
His hand found your throat, pulling you back onto him. “You wanted this, remember?” A deep, fractured groan. “So take it.”
He swallowed whatever sound you made next with a kiss that was more teeth than tenderness, biting at your lips, his tongue sweeping in and claiming every moan before it could escape.
You arched into him without thinking, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, refusing to let him stop.
“So needy for me, aren’t you?”
He released your throat and your wrists all at once, hands finding your leg instead, hauling it up against his chest like a claim. The shift rolled you onto your side, and the new angle stole whatever breath you had left. He drove deeper from here, harder, relentless in a way that blurred the line between pleasure and ruin. You fisted the silk sheets and held on.
His veined shaft dragged against your walls with every movement, slow enough on the pull back to make you feel every ridge of him before he drove forward again. Every thrust was enough to make your vision white at the edges.
Zuko tilted his head down, watching himself disappear into you, from the tip all the way to the base, your body taking him completely, greedily. His jaw was tight. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, obscene and relentless.
“My lovely wife.” His voice was wrecked. “Do you feel how much I love you? How much I missed you?”
He pressed a hot palm flat against your stomach — feeling himself move inside you from the outside, and something about that alone made your breath hitch.
“You were- mhm… made for me.” Low. Reverent. “Only ever for me.”
“Zuko- ahh!… it’s- it’s too much!” you whimpered.
“It’s not.”
His golden eyes found yours and held them. Unflinching. Certain.
“It’s not.”
He kept going, and all you could do was take it and unravel beneath him. The candlelight carved him open above you, every muscle thrown into sharp relief, sweat gilding his skin, making him look devastating and unreal and entirely yours.
You got wetter just looking at him.
“Tell me you love me.” He groaned the words more than spoke them, hips merciless, relentless, driving you into the sheets. “Tell me, my wife.”
“Oh!- o-oh god! ” you gasped when his tip grazed that spot, white flooding your vision.
Zuko’s jaw tightened.
“Wrong words.”
He drove forward — again, and again, and again.
The words spilled out between broken gasps, slurred and unguarded.
“I- I love you, Zuko-”
Like your mouth had stopped asking your brain for permission entirely.
He exhaled shakily against your calf, lips pressing a reverent kiss there.
“Say it again.” Barely a whisper.
But he didn’t wait for an answer — his thumb found your clit, pressing slow firm circles that made your whole body seize. The coil in your stomach snapped without warning.
“Zuko! Nngh!!… I’m coming-“
“Yeah?” His voice was wrecked, undone. “Come for me. Come on.”
Your back arched clean off the sheets. Broken sounds poured from you as your walls clenched around him, tight and desperate, pulling him in and refusing to let go. He groaned at the feel of it, deep and raw, like it had been dragged from somewhere he didn’t know he was holding.
The room was warm. Then warmer. Steam curled through the air around him, rising from his skin like something he could no longer contain. His pace grew sharp and precise, chasing both your highs with singular focus, hips stuttering as he began to unravel.
And then-
A sound tore from his throat that carried heat.
A small burst of flame spilled past his lips, involuntary, unstoppable, gone in an instant. His whole body shuddered and surrendered at once, spilling into you, filling you completely, his forehead dropping as the last of his control burned away entirely.
He had never , not once, lost it like that.
He collapsed beside you. The room was quiet except for the sound of you both breathing. The candles flickered. Steam still clung to the air around him, slow to dissipate, like even now his body hadn’t fully come back to itself.
You lay limp and undone beside your husband. Your husband, who had kissed your calf like a prayer. Who had said say it again like your love was something he was no longer sure he deserved to hear.
He turned his head toward you in the dim light, and for a moment he just looked at you, golden eyes soft and unguarded in a way the Fire Lord never allowed himself to be.
“I’m sorry.” Quiet. Rough around the edges. “It won’t happen again.”
You turned toward him slowly, body still warm and heavy with the afterglow.He was already looking at you. Like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to still be here.
You reached up and found his face in the dim light, thumb grazing the scar beneath it without hesitation, palm settling against his cheek. He exhaled slowly and leaned into your touch like something in him finally let go.
“Zuko.”
His eyes closed.
“I forgive you.”
He didn’t speak. He brought your hand to his lips instead, pressing a long, quiet kiss to your palm. Then he drew you into his chest without a word, arms wrapping around you with the quiet certainty of someone who intended never to let go again.
His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear.
“Sleep,” you murmured, already drifting. “You’re here now. That’s enough.”
“I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
The candles burned low around you both. And for the first time in a long time, you slept soundly, tucked against the warmth of your husband, who held you through the night like you were the most precious thing in his keeping.
Because you were.
˚ˋঌ˖
A/N: This has to be the longest fic I have written so far omg. I wanted it to be soo perfect when I publish it for you guys.
Hope you liked what I did with involving Uncle iroh!! More writers should include him deadass!
I really hope that you guys liked it ! Love you byee
While Inumaki Toge may not be able to voice out his thoughts and opinions, he definitely knew how to love you with his body
When you two would be out in public, he wasn't afraid to show pda, linking your fingers together at all times or curling a loving arm around your waist.
During showers, he would randomly step in with you without asking, engulfing you into a wet hug, the water pouring on your heads and between your bodies.
At bedtimes, he would spoon you—and it didn't matter if he was the little spoon or the big spoon as long as you were both intertwined together, your legs under or over one another, your face buried in his neck.
Movie nights, he would pull you onto his lap, wrapping his arms quietly around you and laying his chin on your shoulder, his eyes fixated on the screen. He knew you loved it—after all your heart would be pounding, even if you'd done this a thousand times. And it's pretty convenient too; you liked feeding him popcorn over your shoulder.
When you're upset, Inumaki's go to would be to pull you into a big hug, letting you cry on his shirt, shoulder, arms, wherever. He hated seeing you cry. He hated seeing his girl upset.
But most of all? He loved kissing you.
Inumaki's mouth is inactive all day long, unless he has a mission. It rarely experiences anything other than pain, so when he discovered the sheer pleasure that came with kissing you, he was hooked.
Your lips were soft and plush, and when they pressed against his for the first time, he felt his entire body melt onto you. During make-out sessions, your arms would sling over his shoulders, your body on his lap, and he would start off by kissing slowly, exploring the exterior of your lips with his own. Eventually, though it'd get more heated, and Inumaki would deepen it, his engraved tongue roaming in your mouth and marking it as his as you arched into him in pleasure.
And it wasn't just during your spontaneous make-out sessions that he would kiss you; he'd do it for every opportunity he could get. When you're cooking, when you're cleaning, when you're writing. Hell, even in the bathroom—he loves kissing you in the bathroom. There's just something about the warm water streaming down the both of you, bodies intertwined together, mouths pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses into one another that got Inumaki feral for your lips.
So tonight, when he pushed you shyly into the wall and took your mouth into his, and when he accidentally let slip a low and shaky sigh into your mouth, you just knew Inumaki loved you, even if he was never able to say it.
warnings: mdni. experience gap. zanka’s aged up n is an adult. fem reader. established relationships. zanka’s a virgin. pet names. based on this request. unproofread.
Zanka’s gaze flicks from your cunt to your tits and back again. You’re too flat on your back, and he can’t see your face over the swell of your chest.
“You sure you got this?” you ask, all soft and giggly, ‘cause if you’re bein’ honest, you can’t help it. The way he’s hovering over you—cock all hard ‘n leaky, red ears, stiff shoulders, too-aware of his own body. He looks like someone tossed him a live wire and told him to just hold it.
Zanka’s face twists. Cute little pissed-off frown, bottom lip pulled in tight like he can't believe that you’re havin’ fun seeing him in such a state. “…Yeah,” he mutters. Barely. His hands stay frozen on your hips, grip slipping like he doesn’t know what to grab, where to go, how to start. He’s so out of his depth it’s almost sweet.
You click your tongue, patience running thin, “Zanka.” He freezes like the sound alone hits him somewhere. You push up on an elbow and use your other hand to press lightly to his chest. Not hard—just enough to make him stop before he panics himself into the wrong hole entirely. His heart pulses and you feel it under your palm.
“Takin’ too long,” you murmur, voice dipping into something smooth and teasing. “Look at me.” And he does. Immediately. Blue eyes snap up like he’s been yanked by a string. Wide. A little foggy.
“I—I don’t need—” he tries, tripping over the words. He wants them sharp, wants them confident, but they crack right down the middle. He shuts his mouth, jaw locking like he’s embarrassed he even opened it. His hands clamp tighter on your hips. Too tight. He’s trying to hold himself steady, but the contact is only making him breathe faster. You drag your hand down your stomach until your fingers reach between your legs. You spread your puffy folds open for him, slick stretching in thin, shining strings between. You watch his eyes drop. Watch his pupils blow wide at the lewd sight.
“Here, ’kay baby?” you whisper, soft and muted. He groans—deep, needy, almost pained. “Why’re you…” he starts, voice already thinning out. “Fuck—why’re you showin’ me like that?”
You smile all sly and coy, and he swears under his breath. He thinks he might just spill right there, and he hasn’t even been inside you yet. His hips twitch forward without permission, and his flushed tip nudges your entrance—unsure, clumsy, but so desperate. He swallows hard. He shifts again, easing in another fraction, and your wet pussy wraps around his shaft. Everything in him locks up. “Shit…okay—wait—” he gasps, eyes squeezing shut for half a second before he forces them back open. “You’re… you’re really fuckin’ warm.”
You roll your eyes, mild annoyance slipping through. You’ve been patient enough. So, without warning, you wrap your legs around his waist, and before he can protest, you pull him in. Hard. His hips snap forward and he bottoms out in one stunned, wet thrust, buried to the hilt. If there’s a heaven out there somewhere, Zanka’s pretty sure it would feel exactly like your pussy squeezing around him.
Hesitantly, he starts moving, eyes half lidded and brain scrambled, the nasty squelching sounds and the grip alone has his hips jerking like he can’t get enough, “fuck…you’re—so—” he pants, voice rough and broken, muttering against your skin. He buries his face near your neck, shoving in another sloppy, needy thrust, eyes half-rolling back, “God…so fuckin’ good” you feel him wobble slightly and you just hum, satisfied—letting him drown in it, all messy and utterly whipped.
Hiiii Lixie! I’d like to request a Zanka x fem reader smut where another cleaner/supporter seems to be getting too close to reader and he gets jealous. Then he ends up expressing his jealousy through seggs 🤭🤭
Jealousy
Zanka Nijiku x Reader
✒note: sure thinggggg we love a jealous Zanka yeah?
Warnings: Nsfw, MDNI, jealousy sex, p in v, kinda rough, lots of kissing (more like eating eachother's faces)
Don't like don't read
Zanka had to admit seeing you talk that sweetly and giggling so much while you were chatting with August really had his skin crawl bit to much. All that smiling and casual brushing, had his blood boil. Yeah you two might've had a lil argument but it wasn't anything serious... right? Well on the other hand you were having fun, you knew he was watching from afar so you just stood there chuckling and nodding at everything August said.
He knew what was going on, so he played along flirting right back. When you came to his lab ranting about you and Zanka having an argument he clicked suggesting to fake flirt with him to get a nice spicy reaction from the guy, "A spark straight to his dih" August said making think about it. Hand on your chin "damn Auggie you're a genius" you exclaimed snapping your fingers and elbowing him.
So here we are, in a cloud of tension, heavy breathing, strangled groans, sweat and tight gripping. Your legs up in the air, your fingers tangled in his hair while the bed is creaking with every little move. Oh August was right indeed. Your voice trembles softly "Zanka–" he quickly shuts you up slamming his hips against yours aiming at you cervix and bullying it. Your legs dangling from his shoulders while he dicked you down.
"Flirting around, right before my eyes huh-" he groans, but his hips did not stutter, your walls tightening around him, while he adjusts thrusting into you, hitting your sweet spot making you cry out loudly arching you back. He suddenly leaned in, your legs hooked to his elbow he pressed them down till his hand his hands on either side of your head. Your legs at the same height as your chest now.
Completely open to him, skin slapping against skin, echoes through the room, his mouth come down on you sucking and biting onto you neck. "Think he could fuck you like I can?" He whispers near your ear, angling his hips to hit that spongy spot, cock dragging within your velvety walls. You whimper "n-no he couldn't" you manage to stutter out. Your moans timing with his thrusts.
His pelvis hitting you every time, pressing against your exposed clit, making you yelp at the extra stimulation. Your nails dig into his toned back scratching leaving marks. He places a fierce kiss onto your lips as you clench around him choking his cock causing his hips to stutter while your juices drip onto the sheets. His tip nudging your cervix just right as he feels himself twitch inside you.
He leans in, lips colliding he bites onto your lower lip then tilting his head to deepen the kiss, tongue tangling and swirling, you teasingly suck onto his tongue, his eyes meeting yours watching as he steals your breath. Hips snapping making your body jolt. The bed creaking dangerously. Once he pulls away you're both panting and whimpering.
"F-fuck" he curses, a groan of your name leaving his lips, you feel the knot in your guts snap, juices spilling down your thighs and all around his dick, "Zanka-ah" you cry out, he groans at the sight and buries himself into you, thick white ropes filling you up to the brim. He thrusts a couple more times, both your juices spilling out and dripping on the mattress.
"Holy... shit. Need to see you jealous more." You murmur, leaning into his grip, he looks at you, eyes meeting and the way you smile up to him, it just connects the dots "Oh you filthy thing, you did it on purpose" he realises you chuckled and as soon as he leaves you legs to drop on the sheets you kiss him.
"You know I love ya" you whisper to his ear your finger rolling one of his locks. "Yeah I know. And i love you" he answers before diving in to kiss you and leake smooches all over your face.
synopsis: You're hit by an aphrodisiac, zanka takes care of you.
warnings: Smut. aphrodisiac effects, finger sucking, fingering, overstimulation themes, switch zanka if u squint.
a/n: I'm in zanka hell ya'll. Also I'm trying to figure out a format so bear with me please. My first time writing for him and gachiakuta in general. I used zanka’s color scheme, I'm so sorry if you're on dark mode and can't see it
You stumble into HQ on shaky legs, your body simmering on low heat. The moment you step through the door, Zanka’s there to greet you, nodding a thanks to Riyo, who had led you in. He cups your face, eyes taking in the warmth on your skin and your blown-out pupils.
"Oi." His voice is calm, but edged with steel. "What happened?"
Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Instead, you whimper, closing the distance by hooking shaky fingers into the front of his uniform.
The mission was simple, a quick clean-up in a No Man's Land you semi-knew like the back of your hand. You were masked up (protocol and common sense) and you nuked the trash beasts without so much as a grunt to alert others—rote.
But you hadn’t counted on getting sprayed with some kind of chemical dust, it misted up from the ground and seeped into your skin. When Tomme logged it as a cocktail of trash-born pheromones, your skin started to itch—annoying, but bearable. The moment it hit—warmth pooling in your gut and a sudden ache between your legs—your body started betraying you. You’d barely made it back.
"Zanka," You whine, pressing your body against him, trembling. "I don’t feel right."
He catches you easily, strong, slender arms wrapping around your waist and pressing you tighter against him. Your breath hitches when his scent hits you, all smoke and steel, and the citrus-scented polish he uses on Assistaff.
"You’re burning up," He mutters, steering you away from prying eyes and toward your shared quarters, nodding in thanks to Tomme and Semiu. "What the hell got ya?"
"Something that seeped into my skin—I don’t know," You breathe. "Just…help me." You can’t help it when your lips find his neck, kissing and nipping at that spot that makes him swallow a keen.
His eyes darken. "Shit, you’re all worked up from whatever that crap was." Then, quieter, almost possessive: "Didn’t want anyone else to see you like this, huh?"
You shake your head, desperate. "Only you, only want you." And it's true; the minute it sat in your system, your restraint locked in. It was obvious what happened to you, but the job wasn't finished and nobody needed to see you like that.
His jaw tightens as he pulls you toward the bed, your room bathed in low amber light. "Yeah? Poor thing," He murmurs, going for pity though he ends up sounding fond. If anything, his voice goes low, rough, affected. "Alright then, c'mere."
He sits on the bed, pulling you to straddle him, and you obey, legs bracketing his hips as you pull him in for a kiss that's all tongue. Your fingers knot in the hair at his nape, tugging gently and earning you a breathy laugh.
"Impatient," He chides, fingers teasing the hem of your shorts, grinning when your knees spread further apart and you begin a slow grind on his clothed cock, half-straining against the seam of his pants. Deft fingers pop the button on your shorts; his middle and ring fingers tap your thigh—a signal to stand—and when you do, he slips them, along with your panties, down in one fluid motion.
He lets his gaze drag down your frame—savoring your controlled breaths, your nipples poking through your shirt, begging to be toyed with, the restless shifting of your stance as you try to be patient. He stands; a tug on your wrist and you're drifting toward him, letting him turn you and lay you on the bed. Your legs instinctively fall open—shameless in the way he follows like a bee to pollen.
Sinewy fingers tap your lips, and you obey the nonverbal command to get his fingers wet. Your tongue coils around the digits, catching on his rings in a way that has your eyes fluttering. He lets you indulge before a pinch to your side stops you.
You writhe under him, anticipation twisting in your gut, and you gasp when his fingers slide inside, two of them, calloused and curling just right. It should help, he thinks, should take the edge off, but it doesn’t. If anything, it just makes you needier.
"Zanka," You gasp, grinding down on his hand, eyes almost rolling when the cold ring of his glove bumps your clit. "It’s not enough, please..."
He watches you squirm, pupils blown wide. "Greedy little thing," He murmurs in reverence. "My fingers alone ain't gonna cut it, huh?"
You shake your head furiously, tears pricking your eyes from how badly you ache. "Need more. Need you."
He leans down, licking into your mouth, slow and messy, while his fingers keep pumping in and out of you, teasing your walls.
"You’ll get me," He groans. "You’ll get everything. But first, I’m gonna wear you out just like this, until your body’s begging to give out."
Your hips buck at his words, hands clinging to his shoulders as the heat coils tighter and tighter inside you. Zanka just smirks against your neck.
"Let it out, sweetheart. We’ve got all night."
You’re practically climbing him now, fingers curled in the front of his shirt, breath ragged. His fingers haven’t stopped moving inside you, but even he can tell it isn’t and won’t be enough. Your hips chase more friction, more him, whimpering into the curve of his neck like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.
"Zanka," You gasp, voice thick and wrecked. "Need you to fuck me. Now."
He stiffens slightly, and when he pulls back to look at you, there’s a flicker of something rare in his usually unreadable eyes, surprise. Sometimes he still gets flustered at how direct you can be. "H—hell. You’re really gone, huh?" He mumbles, ears slightly pink even as he tries to play it cool.
You nod, lips parted, tugging at his belt now. "Please. I can’t think straight. I need you."
He sucks in a breath when your hand slips beneath the waistband of his pants, feeling the heat of him, already hard against your palm. "Tch. Damn it, you're gonna make me lose it too."
You shove him gently but insistently, and he lets you push him down onto the bed. He tries to grab hold of the rhythm, to take charge, but then you’re straddling him again, grinding down and reaching between your thighs to line him up. He curses, trying to keep some control.
"Hey, slow down, I should be the one to—" But the second your hips sink down onto him, tight and desperate, Zanka chokes on a groan. His hands fly to your waist like a lifeline.
"Fuck, you’re…gods—" He bucks up involuntarily, breathing sharp as you start moving, using him to chase every ounce of friction you’ve been aching for since the aphrodisiac hit.
"You feel so good," You moan in relief as your body clamps around him. "So fucking deep."
"Y-You’re gonna kill me," Zanka pants, head falling back, sweat starting to bead at his temple. "Didn’t know you could get like this."
You lean forward to press your lips against his ear. "Only for you."
That seems to snap something in him. One hand slips from your waist to your ass, fingers digging into the flesh; the other finds your jaw, guiding your lips to his again. His kiss is messy, desperate now, like he's the one trying to catch up. And he is—because no matter how much control he usually holds, right now you’ve turned him into the one who's unraveling as you chase your high.
"Shit," He growls, hips starting to thrust up into you—harder now and chasing his high too. "Don’t stop. Fuck, don’t you dare stop."
You take that as an order, bouncing harder and grinding against him as your vision goes hazy, the heat building to a fever pitch. His name falls from your lips again and again until your body finally breaks, slick heat tightening around him like a vise.
That finally pushes him over the edge, the sight of you falling apart on top of him, the desperation, you taking what you want from him. He tries to warn you he’s gonna cum but you don’t stop. He's spilling into you with a shudder and a curse, holding you tight as his fingers find your clit, spurring you along when he feels the tell-tale shake of your thighs. His other hand shoves your shirt up and he’s sucking a nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking the hardened bud as your noises crescendo.
Zanka lets you use him, lets you milk him until he’s tingling with overstimulation. He doesn’t fight what he likes. Your mouth finds his again, and he swallows the gasp you make as your orgasm slams into you, slicking him in your arousal.
The air crackles with afterglow. You collapse on his chest, boneless, breath heaving.
"…You okay?" He asks, voice hoarse. "You’re not gonna try to ride me again, right?"
You giggle weakly against his neck. "Not unless you want me to." The unbearable heat has settled, leaving only the humidity of exertion.
He groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. "You’re gonna be the death of me."
But his hand never stops stroking your back, gentle and grounding. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you cling to him just a little tighter in gratitude.
You lie there for a few slow minutes before you shift again. "Can we shower now?"
"Oh, thank God," He says, already grinning as he helps you up. Your knees wobble; his arm is there, steady as a handrail. "Up you get. I’ve got you."
The tile hisses, steam blooms, and the last of the wrong heat rinses away—leaving the good kind, warm and easy, with his laugh low in your ear.
18+ - bath time - zanka nijiku x f!reader - in which zanka is pure and simply "down bad"
cws: virgin!zanka, zanka aged up, handjobs, dirty talk, brief mention of blood, hurt/comfort if you squint
You’re giving Zanka a bath, and he know it’s only a matter of time before that fact cracks his brain in half.
What are you even doing here?
You don’t work in medical support, so you shouldn’t be toweling him off in the sick bay, skimming lightly over his back for injuries. His ribs ache from holding still, because it’s you touching him and murmuring softly about his care. He’s had dreams just like this, and the last thing he wants is for you to mistake any outbursts as a reason to stop.
He waves some bubbles over his crotch and starts composing a haiku in his head. Maybe that will calm him down.
injured zanka needs
something to distract him from
making a mistake
Well, that’s shit, he thinks glumly.
You take that moment to start scrubbing his chest, and there’s absolutely no way he can distract himself from how glorious your hands feel while preventing a hard-on. The only way to prevent that would be to banish you from the room, and Zanka would honestly rather get stabbed by Jabber’s talons again than have this end.
So, several things happen in quick succession:
you move your hand to his lower stomach
he moans
immediately startles at said moan
and then traps your hand in place
Your breasts are soft against his back. He tastes blood. Realizes he’s chewing, hard, on his lip.
Seconds trickle by.
“Are you hurt here?” you finally ask.
He barks out a laugh.
Your tongue clicks behind him. “Didn’t think so.”
“What does that mean?” Indignation creeps into his tone while another horrid thought wiggles its way into his head.
It’s not like you’d want to touch him.
Certainly not in the ways he can’t seem to stop dreaming about, where you take care of him nearly exactly like this, when he’s bone-tired and desperate for comfort, no matter how deserving of it he might be.
“Calm down,” you chide.
And then kiss his neck.
“Wha - ” A dumbfounded gasp falls from his lips before his brain lights up with sensation and pressing, beating want. “What are you - ”
You scoot around the tub, kneeling and at eye level, and he’s never seen someone direct this much attention his way.
“Can I touch you?”
Your hand wiggles, making the water wave.
He hasn’t let you go.
A nod, shaky and eager, bobs on his neck.
He’s never gotten a handjob. He has no experiences to compare to, no reason to think anything other than god fucking yes, but he still knows in his gut that this is good, that you are good, because as soon as he lets go of your hand, he’s sinking into a pleasure so deep he feels it in his toes.
“You’re big,” you say, raking your nails through his pubic hair. That feeling alone nearly makes him cum, and the satisfied assessment of his dick suffuses masculine pride in his chest.
“Yeah?”
He doesn’t have a fucking clue what to say, but he wants you to keep talking to him. Your hand wraps around the base of his shaft, pumping an inch or two before falling, and it’s somehow better than anything he’s ever felt.
“Yeah,” you affirm, and then capture his lips. You smell like honey and blood. Soft and deadly, and, for a moment, all his. “A good thickness, too. The kind that makes a girl feel nice and full, you know?” You roll your wrist over the head of his dick, and Zanka’s grateful for the water dulling the sensation, otherwise he’d be sitting here in his own spend.
Being inside of you? Being the source of that feeling?
You lick up the water droplets cascading down his neck.
“Would you like to make me cum with this?” You squeeze at the base. “How would you want me, baby?”
“Any - ” The pet name makes his head spin. “Any way you want - ”
“That’s no fun.”
His eyes snap open—when did he let them shut?—but you’re pouting in jest, a cute little frown on your lips.
“Need me to tell you how I would want it?”
“Y/N,” he manages, because he’s about to cum so hard it might shoot into your eye. “I can’t - ” His voice is a wreck. “I won’t last - ”
“I don’t care.” You’re kissing him again, and he grabs fistfuls of your hair, anchoring you in place. “I want you to cum, Zanka, I want to see you cum just for me.”
His stomach pulls taut, balls tight and pulsing against his body. You stroke him once, twice, and then he’s shooting seed into the tub until it feels like he’s shooting blanks.
“It’s hot to see you get off that fast because of me. You know that, right?”
He didn’t, actually. As his mind starts to clear, he realizes that’s helpful. When he replays this later, that fact will mortify him less.
"Do you know why?"
A part of him is starting to think he's missing something. But he's also never cum with someone else before, so his brain isn't producing its best work.
"Because you've got bad taste in men?" is what comes out.
You mock-glower at him. "No, asshole. Because I like you."
He cums just as quickly the second time.
andy's note: if you liked this work/my work, please leave a comment or reblog!
𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: Gris, Enjin, Zanka, Jabber, Follo, Tamsy x fem!reader
𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: ~3k
𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: Pussy eating, fingering, teasing, pet names ie: kitten, babygirl etc, edging, giving head, a bit of desperation, pnv, unprotected/creampies (wrap your willy dont be silly) not fully proof read just skimmed over. Zanka is aged up to be 18+.
MDNI 18+ ageless, blank blogs, and minors will be blocked.
–
a/n: First post kinda nervous. Requests will not be open at this time due to finishing kinktober prep. After kinktober they will be open! You can cater your experience on this app under blog settings if this is content you do not wish to see.
Gris loves, loves, loves waking you up with his head buried between your thighs, tongue lazy at first, then greedy once your soft little gasps start slipping free. But he craves even more the mornings you’re the one to stir him awake, your warm mouth wrapped around his cock before he’s even fully conscious.
The first groan that rumbles out of his chest is broken, as if it was dragged out of him against his will. He blinks blearily, lashes fluttering as he wakes into pleasure, his hips twitching against your lips. You glance up at him through your lashes, the sight of his face contorting as soft, needy whines claw at his throat makes you ache. His brows furrow together his jaw tight, but then, fuck, his eyes finally meet yours. Those irises glowing hazy with sleep and lust with a crooked, lazy smile curls at his lips.
“Shit, babygirl…” His voice is a ragged, still thick with sleep, each word dragged out like he can barely hold himself together. His back arches slightly, cock twitching against your tongue, and his head tips back into the pillow as if he can’t fight the weight of the pleasure drowning him. “You’re so good fa’me… always so good…”
The way he says it – half whimper, half praise, makes heat rush between your legs. When your hand trails down to cup his balls, massaging them slowly, he jolts, hips lifting helplessly. You can feel the saliva pooling at the base of his cock, sliding messily over your fingers as you stroke him. The sound of you slurping him down fills the room, wet and obscene, and his breathing turns ragged – uneven.
“Fuck! fuck, babygirl,” Gris hisses, voice pitching higher, before his hand shoots down. Fingers knot roughly in your hair, he drags you off his cock with a wet pop, a gasp tumbling from your swollen lips. Strings of spit cling between your mouth and his tip. The sight alone almost breaking him in half. His chest heaves, his pupils blown wide, and he stares at you like he’s seconds away from losing his mind.
“Hands and knees,” he rasps, voice wrecked and desperate. His tone is pleading, but there’s a sharp edge of command beneath it. He gives your hair a gentle tug for emphasis, eyes blazing with want. “I need to be inside that needy little cunt of yours. As much as I fuckin’ love coming down your throat, I can’t” his words crack, falling into a strangled groan as his cock twitches in his hand. “I need to be buried inside you, babygirl. Please. I need you.”
His desperation is so raw it borders on broken. His body practically trembling with it, jaw clenched, hips rutting shallowly into the air as if he can’t stop himself. His need for you is carved into every line of his face, every shudder in his voice. He’s not just asking. He’s begging.
Enjin was never picky about where he fucked you. He’d taken you bent over the couch in the common room, pressed you into the mattress with your legs shaking, even dragged you into the backseat of the car just because he couldn’t wait until you got back to base. But what made him lose control every single time was watching you in the kitchen.
The sight of you moving around barefoot, one of his shirts hanging loose on your frame – hem swaying just enough to tease him with the glimpse of panties that barely covered a damn thing. Fuck, it did him in. Watching your hips roll with each step as you cooked, humming under your breath, hair a little messy. Then bending over to pull the biscuits out of the oven, ass arched up just right for him… it snapped the last thread of his restraint.
He’s on you before you can set the pan down, big hands clamping onto your hips, pulling you back against the hard line of his body. His breath fans hot against your ear as he leans down, lips brushing the sensitive skin of your neck.
“Such a cute little thing you are,” he murmurs, voice low and gravelly, words slipping into your spine like heat. He inhales against you, savoring both the smell of breakfast and the soft scent of your skin. “Smells so good, baby…”
Your body shivers at the ghost of his lips. His hand is already sliding under the oversized shirt, fingers rough and sure as they close over your chest. Fingers kneading, groping with no patience. The other hand presses firm against your stomach, dragging you flush into him, making sure you feel exactly how hard he’s getting for you. His cock grinds against the curve of your ass through the thin fabric of your panties, the friction enough to pull a small gasp from you.
You give the tiniest nod, body leaning back into him, permission written in the way your thighs press together instinctively. Enjin doesn’t waste a second. His hand trails lower, palm dragging against every inch of your skin as if he wants to feel all of you before dipping past the waistband of your panties.
“Mm, kitten…” he groans as his tattoo'd fingers slide through your slick folds, finding you already wet. His smirk brushes over your shoulder as he teases your clit with slow, deliberate circles. “So wet for me already. You’ve been dripping just waiting, haven’t you?”
The shirt is shoved higher as his mouth claims your neck properly now, trailing from the base up to your shoulder in wet, biting kisses that make you squirm against him. He nips, sucks, marks you like he can’t help himself. His voice rough and filthy against your skin.
“It’s like she’s purring for me,” he murmurs, skilled fingers dipping into your needy hole, his thumb pressed so sweetly against your swollen clit. The sound of your breathy moans filling the small kitchen. His cock throbs against you as he grinds against the curve of your ass, greedy for more. “Hear that, princess? That sweet little cunt is already begging.”
Enjins mouth is dirtier than anyone would believe, if they saw him outside this moment. But behind closed doors, this was the version of him you knew best. The one who worshiped you with filth, who praised and taunted you until your legs gave out, who treated every whimper like his favorite song.
Jabber was mean, so mean. That was his nature, the way he carried himself, the way his tongue cut sharp when he spoke. Usually, that edge followed him into every touch, every thrust. But tonight.. tonight he was something else entirely. Desperate. Unbearably needy.
Maybe it was the alcohol still burning in your veins, maybe it was the way you always caved for him no matter how many times you swore you wouldn’t. Or maybe it was just Jabber, your ex, the one your body never seemed to forget.
“Yeah, baby,” he cooed, voice low and taunting, but his words were ragged, like they were being dragged from somewhere deep. His inked fingers gripped your ass tight, possessive, before one hand came down in a sharp slap against your already sore skin. The sound cracked through the empty building, you yelped, body jerking, pleasure and pain blurring until you couldn’t separate them. His smirk curved dark against your ear. “Your needy pussy always remembers me, huh?”
You were pinned against the filthy wall, his weight pressing you against the cold and cracked concrete. Rational thought slipped further and further from reach, drowned out by the haze of lust that riddled your body. Tomorrow, you’d blame it on the drinks. Tonight, all you could do was feel him.
“Please! I need more, I need you!” The words tore out of you, loud, shameless, echoing off the walls of the building. Every plea fed straight into him, fogging his mind with raw, uncontrollable lust. His groan ripped out, deep and rough, chest vibrating against your back as his head tipped back, throat bared.
When his gaze dropped to you again, it was through half-lidded, heavy eyes, hungry, starved. His hand shot up, gripping your jaw hard, forcing your head back so you had no choice but to meet his stare. His voice dropped to a dangerous purr.
“Such a needy slut, aren’t ya?” His words were equal parts venom and worship, and then he slammed his hips into yours with a brutal snap that nearly knocked the air from your lungs.
Your cry broke into a moan, hands clawing into his shoulders. Nails sank deep into his skin, dragging red lines down his back. He groaned, the sound guttural, head dipping low to breathe in your cries like they were his salvation. The sting of your nails mixing with the pounding of his cock sent him spiraling, pain and pleasure tangling in exactly the way he craved.
Your moans spilled from you like prayers, frantic and unending, each one sweeter, filthier than the last. Jabber ate them up, every sound tightening the coil of his desperation until it looked ready to snap. He was mean, yes, but right now – he was yours in the worst, most consuming way.
Zanka was a menace – on the field, in your bed, everywhere. He didn’t just take what he wanted; he made sure you felt it, remembered it, carried it in your body for hours after. He could keep his mouth between your thighs until you were shaking and sobbing from overstimulation, or keep you impaled on his cock for what felt like forever, edging you until you were incoherent. Sometimes both. Especially if he thought you’d been neglecting him.
On those days, he made sure the entire day was spent with you spread open beneath him, his cock buried inside you, his tongue dragging you to climax again and again until you couldn’t breathe without tasting him.
He always started the same way, with his mouth. Zanka didn’t believe in rushing when it came to eating you out. He would pin your hips to the bed with his strength alone, broad shoulders locking you down, tongue flattening against your slit before delving deep, slow at first, then relentless once your thighs began to tremble. He didn’t care how many times you came, if anything, he wanted as many as he could wring out of you, messy and loud. He loved it when you broke, when your voice cracked, when you sobbed out his name like a prayer.
By the time he finally slid his cock inside you, you were wrecked, oversensitive, clinging. But that only made it sweeter.
Zanka, lived for the way you begged. The way your voice went high and raw, pleading for him to finally give you what you were already drowning in. Not that his tongue and fingers didn’t leave you satisfied, but there was something about the thick, unrelenting stretch of his cock that left you trembling, utterly undone.
His thrusts were slow, deliberate, his cock dragging along every swollen, sensitive spot inside you until you whined and thrashed beneath him. The slick, wet sounds of your cunt echoed in the room, obscene and perfect, mixing with the stuttered pants and guttural grunts falling from Zanka’s lips.
“Such a good girl, aren’t you, princess?” His voice was low, smug, yet almost reverent as he leaned over you. His breath was hot against your face, eyes blown wide and hungry. “Lost count how many times I’ve came in this sweet pussy already. She just keeps takin’ me, fuck, you’re so good for me.”
Another slow, grinding thrust had your back arching, nails digging at his shoulders, the pressure unbearable in the best way. He smirked against your lips, then pressed his mouth to yours in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. His tongue tangled with yours as he groaned into your mouth, cock pulsing, hips stuttering.
“Sweet angel,” he rasped against your lips, voice breaking as his release hit. His body pressed hard to yours, burying himself deep as he emptied into you once more, like he never wanted to leave. The heat of him filled you to the brim, and he swallowed your moans with another desperate kiss, already ready to go again.
Because Zanka was a menace. And he wasn’t done, not until he’d ruined you completely.
Follo.. Gods, he looked like an angel, clean smile, soft voice, the type of man people trusted at first glance. But you knew better. Far, far from it. Underneath that sweet exterior was a devil who lived for pushing your buttons, for winding you up until you snapped, just so he could be the one to break you back down again.
That’s how you ended up bent over the desk, cheek pressed against the cool wood, your body trembling with frustration as he stood behind you. His cock tapped against your swollen clit, each flick of his hips deliberate, mocking, driving you closer to the edge without giving you what you needed.
“Oh, you want me inside this needy cunt, baby?” His voice was soft, lilting, almost sweet enough to be mistaken for concern. But you heard the venom laced beneath it, the smirk in every syllable. The head of his cock dragged down your slit, but he didn’t give in. “No, no, babydoll, you’re the one who acted out.” His tone darkened, dangerous but amused, and his grin widened as your body jerked under the teasing taps. “It’s okay. I’ll make sure this teaches you a lesson.”
He loomed over you, smile painted across his face like a saint. But his eyes, fuck, his eyes told a different story. They gleamed with hunger, with cruelty dressed up as charm, with the thrill of seeing you writhe.
He leaned down, his chest pressing against your back, lips catching yours in a kiss that was far too hard, too consuming to be called tender. The second you melted into it, he pulled back, cock grinding along your slit again, the swollen head dragging over your clit until your legs trembled. His smirk cut through your whimper.
“Mm, so desperate.” He clicked his tongue, cocky as ever, as if your need was his favorite prize. His hand snuck up – fingers gripping your jaw hard, and with a flick of his thumb he pried your lips open. He stared down at your mouth for a beat, then leaned over and spit directly between your parted lips. The sound, the heat, the filth of it made your cheeks burn.
“Gods, princess,” he groaned, head tilting back as if the sight of you like this undid him completely. His grip tightened on your thighs as he pulled your body back against him, lining himself up. “So goddamn pretty like this. My perfect little mess.”
And then he sank into you, slow but steady, burying himself deep with a low grunt that vibrated in his chest. His hands gripped your thighs like anchors, pulling you back into every inch of his cock until you could feel him stretch you to the hilt. His sweet smile lingered on his lips, but his eyes rolled back in bliss, his composure cracking as he pressed himself all the way inside.
Because Follo wasn’t an angel. He was your devil, through and through, and he was going to prove it.
Tamsy was a tease through and through. He had the kind of cock that could ruin you on its own, but what made him dangerous was how well he knew you. He knew every little tell in your body, every spot that made you shiver, every sound that meant he’d found the perfect angle. After being with him this long, he had your body mapped out like his own, and he loved to exploit every inch of it.
His hands were never still. They wandered your frame as if without thought, sliding over curves and dips, squeezing just hard enough to make you gasp. He loved your skin against his palms, loved leaving evidence behind: the red marks of his fingers dug into your hips, the fading bruise of a handprint on your thigh. Proof you belonged to him.
“Mm, look at you,” he murmured, voice silky and rich, curling into your veins like smoke. His hands tightened around your hips suddenly, dragging you back down hard onto his cock. The force made you cry out, your walls clenching instinctively around his thick length.
The smirk that split his face was smug, unbearably cocky, as if he lived for the way you gripped him so tight. You clung to his forearms, nails biting into his skin, trying to steady yourself against the relentless stretch.
“Such a cute little Dove,” Tamsy crooned, tone dripping with satisfaction. “Gripping me so nicely… gods, you feel so good, my pretty girl.”
His voice was enough to undo you. Smooth, low, deliberate, like velvet wrapped in sin. Every word was punctuated by another thrust, his hips snapping forward with merciless precision. Your chest rose and fell, your gasps syncing with the rhythm of his pace until you were nothing but a mess beneath him.
He was relentless, unyielding. Each thrust was deep, dragging a cry from your throat, each one carrying the weight of his obsession. Tamsy adored you, worshiped you, loved you in a way that clung and consumed. He wanted to be buried inside your needy cunt always, wanted to hear your breathy whimpers like they were the only air he could breathe.
His thrusts grew harsher, sharper, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room. Your cries tangled with his own groans, his voice breaking into rough, needy sounds that betrayed just how much he craved you.
“Take it,” he growled, voice cracking with pleasure as his hips slammed into you harder, faster. His head tipped back, sweat dripping down his temple, the sight of you unraveling beneath him burning into his mind. “Take all of me, my little Dove.”
His control slipped, his thrusts losing rhythm as he lost himself completely inside your fluttering walls. His words turned to broken grunts, his hands gripping your hips so tight you knew the bruises would last for days.
Because Tamsy didn’t just want to fuck you, he wanted to brand himself into your body, into your bones. And he wasn’t going to stop until you both were ruined.
Hope you enjoyed!
do not copy, steal, or translate my works without my permission.
ⓘ zanka’s routine has been pretty concrete since he first joined the cleaners, but he’s not against adding in a new step whenever the opportunity calls for it and you’re an abnormality he could never deny.
pairing. zanka nijiku x fem!reader | wc. 3.4k. | genres. smut. minors do not interact. characters aged up to 20+ | warnings. fem oral receiving. somnophilia ( consensual ). zanka takes great care of you. written from zanka’s pov. | return to masterlist.
notes. i am so sorry this is just almost 3.5k of pure pussy eating lol! i hope you will atleast enjoy it - still getting back into the swing of writing after a short break! ✨
Zanka has a routine.
He wakes up, spends most of his spare time training, eats breakfast to fuel and repair his muscles, cleans himself up and then returns to his room at night.
That’s what it used to be like anyway. But now there’s you. You’re an anomaly in his routine but one that he was more than willing to incorporate, almost a little too eagerly actually. Because one thing about Zanka is he’s not one for doing stuff half-assed, he can’t afford to.
He’s not got some innate hidden talent or natural knack for picking up things after only seeing them once, so he works, hard. He puts as much effort into his relationship with you as he does everything else, he studies you, from top to toe.
There’s still work to be done here and Zanka knows that too, he’s nowhere near done yet. He’s just always been that type of person, he’s a hard worker, takes things seriously until he knows everything there is to know about whatever he’s focused on. Every smell, every reaction, every movement.
Which is why when Zanka’s finished with his morning sparring, brandishing the aches of his muscles like a job well done, he’s quick to return to his room to continue a different type of training.
You’re only barely noticeable as he steps into the dimly lit quiet of his bedroom, still lying all wrapped up in his bedsheets like he left you while he quietly makes an attempt to slip off his shoes and prop up his assistaff in the doorway. Zanka doesn’t think he’s quite used to this yet, even just seeing you sleeping in his bed still makes his brain feel like it’s about to short circuit at times, but he tries his best to remain composed as he crosses the room with big steps.
It’s a careful but important part of the routine, the way he brings himself to the edge of the bed and allows himself to admire you for a moment before he proceeds.
Even in the dimly lit room, Zanka can still make out every dip of your figure; the way the shirt you’re wearing falls along your curves, your lips pouty as your cheek smooshes against his pillow, your brows pulled into a cute frown like you’re lost in a dream.
He maps it all out, memorises every part of it and locks it away into his memory. This must be the expression you make when you’re at peace, when you trust someone enough to fall asleep in a bed that’s not yours. Surrounded by a scent that’s not yours, but his. All his.
The idea of referring to you as that makes a shudder rake through Zanka and he finds himself flushing at his own thoughts whenever he looks at you now. Staking a claim on you like he’s any right to, not yet anyway, not when he’s still got so much work to do.
But that’s exactly what motivates him.
So Zanka begins with a gentle grace, a trait that was no doubt picked up from his time at home as he shifts back the comforter that rests over your bare legs. He feels his mouth run dry when he realises you’re still in just your panties, like he’s not seen much more by now but the reality of it still flusters him more than he’d like to admit. Especially when you’re in his bed of all places.
“Pull yerself together.” He mutters to himself, sighing before the next shift of his body is followed by a creak in the mattress as he eases his weight down on top of it. He moves slowly, until he’s able to lie on his stomach at the bottom of your body and he gives you another look again, making sure he’s not woke you with the gentle shift.
Zanka fits between your thighs much easier than he used to as he guides them over his shoulders. First time he got into this position he was really clumsy about it, had the idea haunting him for days after whenever he thought about it too much, but he’s much more natural about it now. He’s able to move you so gently that you barely rouse, still sleeping softly with your head on his pillow.
But he gets you right where he wants you with ease because he’s learning.
Zanka’s hands wrap softly around your hips as he finds himself a comfortable position on his front, now face-to-face with your clothed cunt as he gives your underwear a once over. His hands offer you a squeeze and then a smooth, like he’s soothing you as his eyes narrow in on the cute fabric and then he leans in close. Just enough for his lips to barely be touching you.
“Mornin’, ain’t awake yet, are ya? So ya can’t even hear what I’m sayin’ right now.” Zanka asks, talking directly to the mound in your underwear with a hushed tone of voice.
“That’s fine, I ain’t against lettin’ ya sleep. Think ya can still react though?” He closes that distance with the next ask, pressing his nose against the fabric of your underwear and then he takes a loud, lewd inhale through his nose that’s followed by a full body shiver as he basks in the scent of your cunt. “Yeah. Can smell it.” Zanka grunts, answering himself.
There’s a certain confidence to him when he finally begins, slowly at first as he tests you out. Zanka noses through the fabric of your underwear before exhaling, deliberate this time as he feels the goosebumps flare along your cool flesh. He knows you like when he does that, picked up on it the second or third time he was down here and he’s stuck to it. You’ve never once complained.
So he keeps going. Zanka’s tongue peeks out from between his lips and he presses it against your underwear, dragging it in light, slow swipes across your cunt and making sure to focus more pressure over the bump of your clit. You’re sleeping still, but you’re reactive, sensitive.
Every roll of his tongue is making you twitch, your legs spreading a bit wider, the muscles in your thighs contracting with his movements. You make a little breathy, light sound in your sleep that makes Zanka’s cock throb from where it’s pressed against the mattress, and he takes that as a sign to move onto the next step.
“Yer bein’ real good about it today.” He huffs before taking a mouthful of your clothed pussy into his mouth this time, suckling lightly at the quickly dampening fabric before he’s moving his lips all over the surface and he feels you twitch. “Seems yer warmin’ up to me. No problem, can bet I’ll take care of ya.”
Zanka keeps going like that. He takes you into his mouth and sucks, feels the heat of your cunt even through the spit soaked fabric and he can tell you’re enjoying it. He’s used to these reactions, can tell by the way you’re breathing, the way your legs are beginning to shake. But he could give you more, he needs to.
Zanka shimmy’s himself a little closer before he’s hooking one hand beneath the fabric of your underwear and peeling them out of his way. The sight he’s first met with renders him breathless, leaking, flushed. You’re glistening with slick, wet and well-prepped and he feels like he’s about to bust a nut right there.
He has to take a few breathes to compose himself and then he locks back in, giving you another glance to make sure you’re still out cold before continuing where he left off. You won’t be asleep much longer judging off how you’re looking; the parted lips, the pinch in your brows.
Not long left but that makes no difference to him. You’re probably used to this by now anyway, not like you don’t let him do it.
Zanka’s calloused hands reach to spreads your folds this time, giving him a better angle to see the spots you took the time to point out when you first got together. He recognises them quickly now, locking onto your clit before leaning in and he takes it into his mouth with ease. He bathes you in long licks of his tongue, focusing on the bud as he spoils it with wet rolls of the muscle and he can feel the way your slick only seems to intensify.
Good signs. Definitely good signs. He’s getting better now, you’re responding faster. Getting wetter, it makes him twitch as he feels you begin to wiggle and rouse at the sensation of his wet mouth.
“I ain’t really into slackin’ off and I still think I could do more for ya, I ain’t nothin’ special yet.” Zanka grunts with his mouth in your pussy, half-like an apology as he feels you shift again. “Gonna put in the work though.”
It’s like how he’d kiss you, Zanka reminds himself, thinks back to the articles in those womens magazines that Semiu had left lying around. It would be way too awkward to mention it or give thanks so he’ll think up some other way to say it to her. But for now he gives your pussy another eager, messy lap with his tongue as he makes out with your cunt. The lower half of his face now slick with a combination of spit and slick as he buries himself deep between your legs.
“Ah—“ You eventually say after a stretch of silence, the room filled with only loud squelches from your cunt and Zanka’s own groans. He can already tell you’re awake by the way your thighs are suddenly clamping at his cheeks but he doesn’t rush you.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake ya so early,” He says, like he’s not eating you out right now and instead just made a sound too loud. The low tone of his voice must send blissful vibrations straight through your clit before he’s curling his tongue around your pussy and groaning when he feels the first greedy squeeze around the entrance to your walls.
You only respond with a sound that’s whiny and sleepy, still waking up but Zanka knows what your body wants without you having to say it anyway.
So Zanka complies, his tongue finally dips into your walls to explore what’s hidden beneath and he experiments by letting the muscle graze along the sensitive nerves he finds there. His nose grinds against your clit with every eager swipe as needy, breathless sounds fall from your lips and he takes note of that. Basks in the taste, the noises, the way your thighs are squeezing at his cheeks still as you wake up slowly.
“You’re earlier today.” Your voice shakes for the first time, hands rousing the sheets.
“Gotta train to get better or else I just won’t.”
Your body begins to shift restlessly, trembling beneath another eager suckle of Zanka’s mouth against your clit and he curls his tongue up through your folds once more. He drags it back and forth, presses it in and out of your hole again and then he draws back, swallowing loud as he slurps up the slick he finds hidden there.
“I—I figured you’d be tired after last night is all.” You laugh, deliberately broken off and pretty and Zanka feels his entire body flush at the memory of last night.
Much like he was right now, except you’d let him fuck you after it. He pressed you into the mattress, listened to you cry out about how good he was making you feel. How you were his, loved him, loved his cock and then he almost came too early and had to pull out to collect himself.
Proof he still ain’t good enough.
“D’ya really gotta bring that up?” Zanka buries himself deeper into your folds like he’s trying to hide.
You only laugh again, “Well I think it’s hard for me to forget. But I’m sure my reactions said enough of that themselves. I—I like when you seem to be having a good time too, it makes me happy.”
“Well when ya let me have ya like this I’m always happy, thought that was obvious.” Zanka’s words are probably too muffled this time for you to make them out, but he’s sure you feel every syllable vibrate from where he’s buried himself in you.
He’s learning, memorising, experimenting and driven by the way you’re beginning to twitch and shake for him. Your fingers reach forward to brush his hair back from his face and then you pull it, making him hiss while the searing pain only makes him feel dizzier, drunker on you.
“‘M gonna make ya feel better than ya even thought possible.” Zanka says again, mind cloudy from his arousal but still focused enough to lap at your folds between words. “Ya won’t even think about anyone else once I’ve memorised every part.”
“Zanka, that feels s-so good,” You gasp, hips twitching beneath his hands and words and he puts a little more strength into keeping you held down now. A telltale sign you’re getting close as you dig your head back into his pillows, whining. “You’re so good to me.”
Zanka doesn’t think he ever wants to stop training like this when he hears that praise fall from your lips, telling him how good he’s being to you like you’re not doing your best for him. He’s sure it gets tiring, letting him bury himself between your thighs every day until he gets better. Until you’re cumming so hard and good that you’ll never even remember anyone who came before him, and there certainly won’t be an after either.
Zanka thinks he’s addicted, so addicted to your pleasure that he’s dizzy with it. He’s so focused, so hellbent on becoming the best that he’ll do whatever it takes.
You pull at his hair, guiding him back and he knows what you want when he’s hooking his tongue around your clit once more. It feels firmer, more sensitive when he’s twisting and laving his mouth over the bud as you begin to meet his movements with eager, intoxicating humps.
Zanka remembers all the times he’s watched you touch yourself, remembers the things you’ve said that you like, so he pushes his tongue beneath the hood of your clit again and closes his lips around it. He suckles languidly as his eyes flutter closed in bliss and you rock yourself against his mouth, letting him bathe the bud in mindless licks and rolls with the wet muscle.
“Y’ taste good. Real good.” Zanka’s says and your body shivers so deliciously it’s like the praise rolls right through you.
“Yeah? You f-feel even better.” You bite on your lower lip, hands in his hair as your lips part, louder now you’re fully awake. “I’m gonna cum,”
Exactly what Zanka wants to hear as he notices your spine begin to curl with the first pinpricks of bliss, every eager roll of your hips chase that twist of pleasure in your abdomen that you crave from him as your slick coats all over his cheeks and chin.
It doesn’t take long for him to get you there, because he knows how to. A few more flicks of his tongue over your clit, accompanied by a big, rough squeeze of his hands on your thighs and you finally stiffen. You pull him deep into you when your orgasm suddenly rolls over you in waves and he only dives into you with even more eagerness, groaning shamelessly at the first taste of your cream on his tongue as his eyes roll back almost completely. There’s even a dangerous throb in his cock that almost knocks the breath out of him.
But Zanka’s focus on you is so unbreakable, he continues to slurp and drink you up greedily as he flattens his tongue against your folds. He bathes you in long kitten licks until you’re finally slackening and pushing his head away with an over sensitive whine. But not before he’s placing one more soft, wet kiss against your clit.
He’s completely flushed to his chest by the time he stops, his cheeks to his chin glistening with your juices while his chest expands with every shaky breath he takes to catch his breath. He probably looks more spent now than he did after a morning of sparring with Enjin, but then his wet, blown gaze is meeting your own and his cheek is smooshing against your thigh as he blinks up at you.
You look pleased with him and that’s enough to make his body feel lighter than ever.
You shift and stretch for a few seconds before talking, no doubt taking the time to properly wake up now that you’ve just came the hardest you have yet for him. Your smile says you’re satisfied as your hands begin a much more gentle movement through his slightly damp hair.
“What if I told you you’re already the best I ever had?” You say, words whispery and sweet. It makes Zanka shudder,
“Ya aint gotta say that stuff to make me feel better.” He shrugs, but he appreciates the sentiment regardless, if he wasn’t already flushed he’d surely be red. “Besides, I just ain’t one for skipping steps, I approach ya the same way I do all other sorts of trainin’ ‘cause there’s way more to ya than you’d think.” Zanka casts you another look, as if trying to make his confession seem more casual but still just as honest as he shifts from his place between your thighs. “Nobody knows ya like I do ‘cause I’m seein’ to ya with the time and care ya deserve and I can say that with confidence.”
He doesn’t know if that was stupid or corny to say but before he can begin to overthink it and lock himself into his room for a few days, you seem to pick up on his embarrassment. You choose your next words carefully. “And what have you learned so far?” You ask, teasing.
Zanka shrugs again, but he smiles this time, settles a bit. “That’s for only me to know and I don’t plan on tellin’ anybody.”
“I never thought you’d be the type to keep secrets.”
“Guess I gotta do whatever I can to have the upper hand. Not like it matters, nobody else is gonna get to test it but me.” Zanka moves when he answers you this time, shifting himself up onto his knees and moving your trembling thighs back down onto the mattress. He kneels across from you as you give him a narrowed look.
“I like when you get like that.” You smile, blinking at him,
He tilts his head, his earrings shifting with it. “Like what?”
“You know, all possessive on me.”
Zanka immediately shudders with humiliation at the idea of actually staking a claim on someone like you. Hell, he can’t believe he even managed to bag you to begin with considering his track record of losses but he’ll be damned if he lets this opportunity go to waste.
Gotta play it off, gotta seize the moment. Show ‘er you’re not just any regular average joe.
“Y-yeah, well it’s true.” Zanka responds after a moment in his head but he can’t look at you, “I like havin’ ya all to myself, is that so bad? I ain’t one for sharin’”
You grin even wider now as you push yourself up from lying on your back, coming to your knees until you’re able to reach forward and wrap your arms around Zanka’s shoulders. It’s like you know he’ll steady you, bringing you close enough until his hands are on your waist and your lips are by his cheek.
You giggle, “Definitely not. I’m not letting you away so easily anyway.”
Zanka thinks his heart’s due exploding, but there’s a throb in his cock aswell. His jaw tight as he holds you against him, “Yeah well I ain’t anywhere near bein’ done, but I think I’m gettin’ pretty close.” His hands stroke at you as he kneads at your body, groping at your skin and mapping it all out for the nth time before he feels you press a little kiss to his cheek. As if igniting something in him, he puffs out his chest. “It just ain’t nowhere near enough yet. Think ya could go another round? Don’t wanna push ya too hard.”
You pull away to eye him, but it’s with a certain flutter to your lashes that Zanka recognises immediately, “And what if I can barely handle it this time?” You say, breaking away from him before lying yourself back and spreading your legs. His mouth almost waters but he plays it off with a long, slow blink.
“Then that just makes it even more satisfyin’ for me.”
hii hope ur having a great day ^^ ! can i request zanka crushing on a reader who's vital instrument ( a pen ) allows them to create objects, then he suddenly sees them having a plush keychain of him hanging on their outfit ? like the reader always has plush keychains attached to their outfit but during a mission he suddenly notices theres a mini zanka attached aswell. then they even give him a plush keychain of themselves so they can match and the whole time nakikilig lang si zanka over his crush.
𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨: drawing was your main love language— everyone knows that because they all got a gift from you. But what about Zanka? Well... You decided to not give your gift to him.
𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨: fluff, dandere! Reader, Team akuta! Reader, oblivious! Reader, implied short! Reader, oblivious! Zanka, Jealous! Zanka, kinda self indulgent as an artist myself
𝙂𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙧: this is so CUTE! I'm gonna pour my heart and soul into this because I'm also an artist— I'm so glad my anons are creative enough to make scenarios for me 🫶🥹 thank you boo
𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨: Zanka Nijiku x artist! Reader
In the cleaners HQ, there's a sacred gift giving 'ceremony' that everyone goes through— and by everyone I mean everyone. From supporters, to the more crucial members of the cleaners, everyone has gone through it.
And that's your annual 'drawing a chibi version' of the cleaners. Rudo has gotten one— which is currently dangling on his outfit, Riyo has one clipped to her belt, Enjin has one on his umbreaker. Hell! Even the supporters have one, every single one of them.
Rudo noticed all that from day one, there always seemed to be a chibi version of every cleaner in their outfit— even if some of them don't have one attached to their outfit, then it's in their room.
When he asked what all these keychains were all about, Riyo said: "oh! This? Yeah our little silent artist makes these— if they find you friendly enough, they give you these keychains! Cool right?" She said as she showed it off.
Rudo pointed at Zanka, "then why doesn't Zanka have one?" She glanced at Zanka, "him? Well no one really knows—" she then whispered down on his ear, "I think it's because they like Zanka" then she smiled. "But don't tell him that though"
Zanka glanced at the two of them with raised brows, "not tell who, what now?" He asked curiously, Riyo smiled sheepishly, "nothingggg Zanka, nothing to worry about here!" He rolled his eyes and continued eating.
But Rudo was still confused, if you like someone don't you show it off? Don't you give things to them? So why did you not give things to him when you, allegedly, liked him?
That was Rudo's initial thoughts before he actually met you.
"Uhm... Uh— Rudo right?..." You mumbled as you approached him in his sulking form— he was still overthinking about his Jinki at this time. And when you saw him, you decided to make a quick doodle of him to give it to him to cheer him up; you pulled it out of your sketchbook and laid it on the table.
He looked up.
You tensed up, 'how is this kid more intimidating than me!?' But you just sucked your fear in and pushed the plushie version of him. "I— I noticed you just... Sitting here so I made this, thing, to cheer you up. I hope you don't mind..." You awkwardly smiled.
He straightened up and debated whether to take it or not. You noticed his hesitation and pushed it towards him more, "here, it's a gift, you should take it" he hesitantly took it.
Rudo examined the keychain in his hand, he handled it with care as he turned it around to look for any details. It was made with soft, high quality fabric that made it look forbidden to touch. He ran his thumb around it.
Then, as Rudo was engulfed with his thoughts, you heard footsteps coming your way. You turned around to see Gris, you smiled and waved, he waved back and took a seat next to you, and turned to Rudo, who had his mind preoccupied.
"So..."
He started, and Rudo snapped back to reality to glance at him, "this is where you're hiding." He stared blankly at him and glanced back at the keychain plushie that you made. Gris set his mug down, "I wanted us to have a real introduction— since you've already met out artist here."
And that was basically his introduction to you; no name, no elaborating what your role was in the cleaners. Just, "you've already met our artist here." And nothing else. He was left to pick up the pieces.
And pick up the pieces he did.
He noticed how quiet and observant you were. How you seemed to always be on the sidelines in missions. So he thought you were a supporter— even though your uniform resembled more like theirs, his point still stands.
Well, that's what he initially thought before all the Akuta team was sent on a mission to exterminate a bunch of trashbeasts.
The way to the location was a bumpy ride, and Enjin's driving wasn't solving that problem at all. You're glad that it wasn't packed in the Jeep— was what you would've thought if you weren't pressed up in the window next to Zanka.
Zanka Nijiku.
To say that your nerves were on fire was an understatement, at this point it was turning into lava with how pressed up you were with him.
Being this close to your crush should be illegal; you weren't used to this, what were you supposed to do? Distract yourself? You supposed you could, if you could move your hand that is. Which, in this case, you couldn't, so drawing wasn't a distraction viable in this situation.
You exhaled shakily and looked away from him to stare at the window— which proved to be useless when you could still see him in the corner of your eyes.
The Jeep came to a sudden stop, and you looked ahead.
The location seemed to be like any other place in the ground, it was muted, disgusting, and dirty. But...
In the center of it, there was a stack of papers, pens, canvas, and paints. You gasped and winced, 'what a waste of materials! I could've used all that...' You thought.
"Okay everyone!" Enjin said as he put on his mask and adjusted it. "We make it quick— Semiu said that this trashbeast is hard to fight with, so, we have to finish this quick." He was met with grunts of agreement. "Everyone ready?" He said as he looked at the rearview mirror. Everyone nodded.
You nodded and felt around your pockets to look for your pen. Nothing.
Your breath hitched.
Riyo sensed what was wrong and looked at you confused, "hey, are you okay?" You gulped but you nodded weakly. "Yep!— just uhhh... I'll just stay here for a while, I can't find my pen..." She tried to protest but you shook your head, "it's okay, I'll be quick then I'll join everyone okay?" She shrugged and nodded.
Everyone got off with their weapons already out. You sighed when everyone got out and started to look for your pen, blocking any noises that might've distracted you— after all, you don't wanna miss out on the action just because you lost your Jinki, yeah, no panic there.
'BOOM'
You flinched at the noise, it was so loud that the Jeep jumped. You shook your head and reached under the seat.
And there it is
Your pen.
You celebrated for a moment before you adjusted your full face. "Okay! Time to go out!" And when you got out, what you saw was not what you would've imagined.
The trashbeast— which was an inky black figure with drawn in eyes, a bunch of them actually, and pens sticking out of its liquid body that made it seem like it was a porcupine.
You gasped.
Everyone on the team was drowning in the inky substance underneath their feet, they tried to get out, but, unfortunately, it was not successful.
Rudo had his hands elbows deep in the substance as he struggled to get out, Riyo was on the trashbeasts head perched on top of her scissors, Enjin was trying to fight the trashbeast with his legs knees deep in the substance. Zanka wasn't any better and was hanging off of the inky body of the trashbeast with his stick.
The supporters were running towards you, they shouted your name and pointed at the trashbeast, and said something that you couldn't hear, but you understood.
You sighed, "time to shine I guess— I was really looking forward to just chilling though" but you shrugged, and ran up to them while holding onto your pen and sketchbook ready to create something.
"TOMME! How does this trashbeast work!"
She checked her notes.
"Thank God you're here!— Semiu wasn't joking when she said this beast was hard to kill!" You nodded "I can see that!"
"This thing can't be cut!— Riyo already tried to cut it, it just regenerates with its ink! Enjin tried to cut it too, but nothing! Zanka and Rudo tried to blow it out using a fan but nothing!"
You nodded. "It also somehow got stronger when I got near? I don't know!— it's a weird trashbeast and we don't know its weakness!"
"Got stronger when you got closer?"
She nodded, "it also did the same with Rudo"
You noted that, "okay! Thanks Tomme!"
You drew a doodle of a gun and a grenade. "Time to test things up!" You pulled it out of your sketchbook; your hands and weapons got enveloped with the signature color of your anima. You aimed at the beast's head and shot.
It tore through its skin and directed its attention through you. Riyo yelped as the ink disappeared beneath her feet. She looked towards where the bullet was fired at and found you.
She landed on her scissors— your attention was still directed at the trashbeast as you aimed your gun at it again. She screamed your name and waved at you. You directed your focus to her. "CAN YOU HANDLE THIS THING FOR A BIT?!" she yelled, you nodded. She took it as a yes and started to help her comrades get out of the ink.
The trashbeast roared and started to make its way towards you. You shot it again, this time at it's— presumed— feet, it growled and sped up towards you. To which, it made Zanka drop to the ground below. He jumped back while catching his breath. Riyo patted his head as she helped Enjin escape the ink. Rudo, meanwhile, shook the ink off and directed his focus to you. And one thought came into mind.
"THEY'RE A GIVER??"
Meanwhile you— who saw your teammates regain their strength back, and saw them put some distance between themselves and the trashbeast— decided to throw the grenade bomb at the trashbeast and shot at it three times.
The grenade bomb exploded and released copious amounts of paint to the point that it got covered in the paint. It also released confetti and glitter— you did not mean to do that, but what's done is done.
Riyo laughed at the face that Rudo was doing— his disbelief and surprise was funny to Riyo. "HAH!— of course they are!" She said as she rested her hand on his shoulders and admired you as you fought with the trashbeast— shooting at it with determination in your face.
"You might be wonderin' what their Vital instrument is, right?" Zanka asked as he put his stick to the ground and rested his cheek on his stick. Rudo nodded and didn't dare break his direction to the scene in front of him.
You huffed as you saw it regenerate with its ink. "What the fuck is your weakness?!" You screamed in frustration as you dodged its incoming attack— it slammed its arm onto your direction. The ink bubbling in mock of your frustration.
"It also somehow got stronger when I got near?—"
"it also did the same with Rudo"
A flashback of what Tomme said made you widen your eyes.
"Of course!" You yelled as you immediately took out your sketchbook.
'This trashbeast is fueled with creativity!— based on the ink bubbling when it was near me— and what Tomme said, then that must mean...' You thought as you mindlessly dodged its attacks while holding your sketchbook tightly.
'Whatever cancels this power source of it, then that's its weakness!'
You doodled an eraser.
"If that's the case then I'll just have to erase you altogether!" You screamed as you took out the eraser— which was about the size of yourself but was surprisingly light.
"Their Vital instrument is crazy powerful; they can create whatever they want with just a drawin'— whether it's another jinki, or food. They're basically a genie with their ability."
Rudo's eyes shined with admiration as you sliced through the trashbeast with zero effort— and surprisingly, it didn't regenerate this time.
"Yeah, that's why they can create these high quality plushies of us y'know?" Enjin said as he took hold of his own keychain plushie.
And in the corner of Rudo's eyes, he could see Zanka scowling with jealousy, before he covered it up with his usual nonchalant expression.
Meanwhile...
Riyo looked at the flash of blue that she could see at the corner of your uniform. And when she looked closer, it kinda looked like...
'Huh... That kinda looks like Zanka'
Team Akuta didn't really mean to snoop around your sketchbook— the other sketchbook that you use for fun because yes, you have 2 sketchbooks, one for your job and one for personal usage. And they snooped around the latter.
In their defense, your sketchbook was there in the open and they were your friends, so they hid it— forgot why they hid it in the first place, and opened it.
And what they found was...
Endearing to say the least.
There were pages and pages of doodles of the cleaners, so many in fact that there was no space left to take up, no space was left taken.
And they found little writings in them too.
Like that one doodle of Rudo eating sweets in a chibi version, and what you wrote was: "sobrang cute ni Rudo— hindi ko ma ti-tigil yung kamay ko huhu" which translates to: "Rudo is so cute— I can't stop my hands huhu"
Enjin laughed at it because it was biblically accurate. Then they saw Enjin drawn in an anime art style with him holding his umbrella in a sophisticated way. And what you captioned was: "GAGO— Hindi ko pa rin matangap na palagay ni Enjin na nag-a-aura farm siya sa kanyang umbrella lol" which was tagalog for: "STUPID— I can't believe that Enjin feels like he's aura farming with his umbrella lol" to which Riyo and Rudo laughed at, because of how you drawn him.
Then there's Riyo.
You just drew her in poses that you deemed 'aura farming' and left it at that.
Everyone was jealous because there wasn't one drawing that dog shitted on her. To which she just smirked smugly at.
Rudo flipped at the last page and raised a brow.
"What about Zanka? Where is he?"
"Huh? What do you mean?— let me see that"
Riyo snatched it from Rudo and flipped every page of it— Zanka wouldn't admit it but he glanced at sketchbook to see if he was drawn.
He was not.
'The hell? Do they hate me that much?'
He couldn't help but think. But he wouldn't admit that, not even in a million years, not even when his heart beats so hard whenever you're near, not when his stomach fills with butterflies whenever you laugh at his sarcastic jokes.
Because falling inlove is for average joe's, right?
If only he knew how many sketchbooks you dedicated to him, if only he saw how many paintings, doodles, and sketches you have of him.
Because you know what they say: "when you're loved by an artist, prepare to be their muse" or something like that.
But he's bound to find out anyways.
Because one sketchbook dedicated to your comrades is nothing compared to the 7th sketchbook you have filled with Zanka.
Riyo is really puzzled right now. Puzzled by you.
Why? You may ask, well, it's because she's been seeing a flash of blue on your hips whenever you fight. And whenever she squinted, it resembled Zanka, it looked too much like Zanka.
And she told Rudo that because yes, she treats her male friends the same as she does with her female friends when it comes to gossiping.
"Pst— Rudo, come here for a sec" she called out to him while he was eating. He looked up and raised an eyebrow, "what?" He said while eating. "Just come here" Rudo sighed and shrugged, but he went towards her anyways.
When he sat down next to her, she immediately pointed at you. "Have you noticed a little keychain dangling on their hips whenever they fight?" She asked, Rudo shook his head "none that I would've noticed, why?"
She rested her chin on the back of her hands and looked at her with a look that said 'I will find out what you're hiding' with so much intensity that you would've felt it.
"I know that they're hiding something... But what?"
Rudo just continued eating— but like Riyo, he was also keeping an eye on you. Because why not? It was boring, so he wandered his eyes.
Until he noticed Zanka pass by.
And saw a keychain dangling on his hips.
It wasn't a keychain of him.
It was you, in all its small glory, its eyes glinting, as if to say 'heh, you must be jealous that you're not the one on Zanka right now.'
His spoon dropped as well as his jaw.
Just as Zanka was about to go out the door, Rudo bolted at him.
"OI YOU ASS, YOU BETTER EXPLAIN THAT SHIT DANGLING ON YOUR CLOTHES" he screamed.
Zanka didn't understand why you hated him so much. He didn't understand why you started to distance yourself from him, he didn't understand why you didn't have a doodle of him in your sketchbook. And most importantly,
He didn't understand why you didn't make a keychain version of him.
Not that he would've given a shit— yearning for something is for average joe's, being jealous because everyone got what you wanted was for average people. He should be better than this.
But alas, he was still himself. So of course, he was jealous.
He was walking towards his room with a slow pace, tiredness starting to catch up to him, and he was ready to call it a day and wonder about this tomorrow. That was, until he saw your bedroom door wide open.
He glanced at it, before he went on his way.
Just kidding.
He peaked at your room.
Just to see you hunched over your desk busy with something— your work uniform was replaced with an oversized shirt with paint splashed on it. Your eyes fluttered as the light illuminated your drawing. Your hair tied up— to what he assumes, was hours of work that you put in your drawing.
You slumped back and fell asleep right then and there. 'Guess the lack of sleep caught up to you' he thought.
'Maybe it wouldn't be too bad if I put them back to bed' he thought while going inside your room; because even though someone's room is very private, he couldn't just leave you there slumped on your desk. You'll have back problems for Pete's sake. 'It's just an in and out thing, just get them and get out' he promised.
When he entered your bedroom, he was met with a whiff of your scent— maybe it was because of your perfume, or maybe your shampoo. But the scent was definitely intoxicating. He went up to your desk and bend down to check if you were actually sleeping, he brushed your hair away from your face.
The light illuminated your features in a way that made you look angelic, your features popping under the warm light. He smiled lightly.
Then he glanced at what you were drawing— your arm covering it. He would've left it at that, but it's not gonna harm anyone if he just took a peak, right?
So he did.
And he found...
Him?
It was him, in all the glory, holding his own assistaff— he was standing and pining his staff to a wall, while his anima surrounded him, the blue illuminated him.
'Why did you draw me?' He thought as his widened his eyes; he didn't expect this— he thought that you didn't like him, he thought that the reason why he didn't get any plushy of himself was because you didn't like him, he thought that the reason why he didn't get a place in your sketchbooks was because you hated him.
But as he took a step back and looked around your room.
All he saw was him.
All in different poses, ranging from: being serious, to laughing. From him doing mundane stuff, to him standing on a Jeep holding his assistaff. It was all him.
He gawked as he looked around.
And in the corner of his eyes, he could see the plushie that he always wanted.
A mini him.
Unbeknownst to him, as Zanka looked around, you stirred in your sleep. And just as he set his eyes on the plushie, you shot up from your sleep.
"Z—Zanka! Why are you here??" You screamed in shock as your initial tiredness faded. And now you saw your, crush, the one you've been dreaming about for the past months, the one you've been avoiding to limit the amount of butterflies you have in your stomach. And the one you unintentionally labeled as muse.
You stood up and tried to push him back out while maintaining no eye contact whatsoever. All while your thoughts were panicking on what to do.
"This is so embarrassing..." You mumbled.
Zanka, meanwhile, was surprised that you immediately woke up from your little nap. He didn't really expect you to wake up that early, and he expected that he had to move you to your bed. But I guess that isn't needed now.
He looked down at your figure and was amused at your attempt to shove him out of the room; Zanka really didn't want to because he just found out why you didn't draw him at all.
It's not because you didn't like him— but because you liked him too much.
The ends of his mouth twitched as he tried to stop you from shoving him out— he wanted to look at the paintings of him more— and he did it by holding your hands gently.
You gulped when he did that, and looked at him, surprised. Zanka just grinned slightly, which made your heart leap ten feet from the ground. Your face burned up the more you stared at him. Silence took over you two, the tension so thick that you could cut it with a knife.
Finally, he spoke.
"Y'know... I thought that you hated me at first."
He spoke as he pinned you on your place just with his gaze; Zanka's eyes were soft and were in a beautiful shade of blue— your favorite shade of blue that you can't stop painting.
"But it turns out... You liked me too much huh?"
Zanka asked with a playful undertone— yet it still bore the seriousness that was a perfect balance for this.
But still, your mind was still doubtful.
'What if he's just playing with me and he doesn't really like me?'
Little worms like that dug to your mind, that it made you look away from him— you never liked confrontation anyways. But... He didn't let you, and instead lifted your face up with his thumb. As if your position wasn't close enough, now you could practically feel his breath on your lips.
"I— it's okay if you don't like me back— I mean it would be nice— B—but I don't wanna hold you back from—"
"You're not holdin' me back"
He cut you off. The softness in his eyes is still present. And the hold on your chin tensed— you guessed he didn't like that assumption.
"W—wait— huh? What— hold up, back up— you're serious?"
He smiled at you. Zanka's hands suddenly traveled to hold your cheeks with both his hands, the coldness of his palms shocked you, but you welcomed it with open arms— after all, it's him.
"'Course I am, when am I not?" He asked like it was that simple.
It was. You were just too baffled to realize it.
"The whole time... The whole time that I was jealous of other people 'cause you made them special gifts— you actually made a hundred more f'me"
You took a moment to process that, but once you did, you asked. "You were jealous?" He rubbed your cheeks with his thumb and hummed in response.
"I..."
"... Do you like me?" You asked as you stared at him in disbelief.
You were speechless. Completely and utterly speechless— the whole time that you were secretly crushing on him... He was also bearing the same feelings for you. The whole time that you were stealing glances at him, trying to avoid him to save your poor heart from a heart attack. He was there, observing your behaviors and concluded that you hated him even though it was the total opposite.
"Yeah... Liked you the moment you entered the cleaners. But I thought you didn't like me so I didn't bother—"
His eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes.
"Guess that was a mistake"
Silence took over again, it enveloped you two with intimacy as you tried to say something, but the words stuck to your throat.
You looked down on regret; you didn't consider it from his perspective— you thought that it was for the better, to not distract him. But, now, if you knew that he liked you back. You would've showed your love for him a tad bit more publically.
"I— I mean I can make it up to you... I can give the plushie to you"
Zanka thought about it for abit, on one hand, he'll finally have a plushie version of himself and he wouldn't feel left out. But on the other hand...
He wants a plushie version of yourself on his outfit.
Call it a trade for all the trouble you caused Zanka's mental well being— and also his poor heart.
"How 'bout you make a keychain of yourself, yeah?"
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꫂ ၴႅၴ ₊ ⊹
𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬!!
Rudo: so let me get this straight. You guys had a keychain plushie of yourselves in your outfit for weeks now and we only found out NOW?
Zanka: it's not our fault you're blind as fuck
Riyo: I mean... He's not wrong
𝗚𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗿: this is why I dont write oneshots yo, but it's so zamn addicting I can't stop 💔 I also wanted to explain more of the reader's jinki but I am NOT good at writing fighting scenes so BARE WITH IT
꒰ synopsis: Spin the bottle ends better than you expected♡
"Seven minutes in heaven, I hope in the end that I'm not a virgin" -Mindless Self Indulgence
│cw: NSFW, 18+, vaginal fingering, handjobs, oral (giving), grinding, forced proximity, public sex (technically), afab!reader/fem!reader, reader is lowkey a gooner
│ft: Enjin, Gris, Zanka (separately)
│wc: Enjin: 1.4k, Gris: 1.6k, Zanka: 1.2k
│notes: intro is the same for all, each boy's story is not connected and can be read separately, ZANKA IS AGED UP TO 18!
│AO3 Link!
│INTRO
You’ve made your fair share of stupid decisions throughout the years. But this one? This one certainly takes the cake.
With Rudo’s “Welcome to the Ground” party dying down for the night, Enjin took it upon himself to liven up the room again.
Seven Minutes In Heaven.
Flashbacks from middle school made you visibly shudder. You never found the game fun. It always ended in a closet filled with awkward glances and uncomfortable silence.
You groaned to yourself. You’d rather watch paint dry than sit quietly next to someone for 7 minutes.
Though you tried to sneak away, a surprisingly willing, Semiu stopped you at the door. She threw you a knowing smirk and guided you back to the growing circle.
“You aren't getting out of this one that easily, Y/n. You’ve been specifically requested for.”
Frowning at her words, you reluctantly sat down next to her, “With this sausage fest of a party I’m not surprised.” You rested your head on her shoulder, “How the hell did they rope you into this?”
Semiu shrugged against you, “Who knows, maybe I couldn't pass up the thought of something interesting happening tonight.”
Your eyebrows creased at Semiu’s tone. It didn't seem like she just thought something was going to happen. No - she sounded far too confident something would.
Before you could question her antics, you flinched when a glass beer bottle was tossed into your lap. Looking up, you met Enjin’s gaze with confusion.
The blonde man smirked, “Ladies first.”
You rolled your eyes, “Such a gentleman.”
The crowd surrounding you laughed, hooting and hollering for you to spin the empty bottle. You pressed your lips into a thin line. Your stomach was already starting to fill with anxious knots.
“What are you waitin’ for Y/n,” Zanka’s voice called from the other side of the circle, “You chicken?”
You flushed, “Hell no, Stick Boy!”
You snatched the bottle from your lap and placed it in the center of the circle. With a single flick of your wrist, the bottle began to spin rapidly.
The crowd roared in anticipation. Their teasing remarks continued to cut through the air even as the bottle's rotation slowed.
You could only hold your breath as the cheap beer came to a halt. Slowly, your eyes trailed the long neck of the bottle.
You felt your heart leap out of your chest. It was just your luck.
The bottle had landed on...
│ENJIN
It was a tight fit.
Though he was lean, Enjin’s tall frame took up the majority of the closet space. His firm chest pressed further into your back each time one of you shifted.
It made you nervous.
But not in a “giving a public speech” kind of way. You were nervous in a “there's a 6’3 tatted up blonde bombshell pressed up against my back” kind of way. Not to mention the “I’ve been picturing this exact position every time I get off” guilt that began to creep its way into your head.
Awkwardly shuffling your feet, you flinched when you accidentally grinded against him. Quickly pulling away, you glanced at him over your shoulder and muttered a soft apology. Though in all honesty, you wondered if you could get away with another “accident”.
“It’s alright, but…”
Enjin’s large hands pressed against the door on either side of your head, boxing you in from behind. You did your best to ignore the sudden movement. Forcing the thought “naked grandma” repeatedly to cleanse your impure imagination.
As if sensing your plan, Enjin lowered his head into the crook of your neck. His lips ghosted along the shell of your ear as he whispered, “Do you really wanna’ just stand here in silence the whole time?”
Your heart pounded in your chest. Of course you didn't want to just stand in silence. If you had it your way you’d already be humping his leg. But could you really say that out loud to your team leader without having a restraining order placed on you?
You swallowed thickly, “Can’t say I’m opposed to it.”
Enjin chuckled against your shoulder. Removing his right hand from the door, he trailed his fingers down your waist to your hip bone, “It’s called Seven Minutes In Heaven not Seven Minutes In Boredom.”
“I hate to break it to ya’ Enjin but that’s usually how this game goes.”
You rested your head against the door. Enjin’s close proximity was really starting to test your self-control. Maybe if you concentrated hard enough you could block out Enjin’s strong grip on your hip.
“Pshh, that’s no fun.” You could practically hear the pout in his voice.
Sighing, you crossed your arms, “Well, what did you have in mind?”
“How about a bet?”
You jolted at Enjin’s quick response, “A bet?” Though you couldn’t see his face, you still eyed his hand suspiciously, "What kind of bet?”
Enjin hummed, “Any.”
“Any?” You let out a dry laugh, “Are you that confident you're going to win?”
“Without a doubt.”
Stunned by his confidence, you smirked internally. Any bet you want, huh? That means he wouldn’t mind if you played a little dirty, right?
“Alright I’ll bite.” You did your best to look back at Enjin, twisting uncomfortably at the waist, “As long as the prize is a “Freebie Card”.”
A “Freebie Card” was something Riyo made up a few years back. Each person had their own cards they could give to another Cleaner.
As long as you had another person’s “Freebie Card” you could ask them to do whatever you wanted - no questions asked. It was Heaven sent when it came to passing off shitty jobs.
Enjin grinned, “Deal.”
Sucker.
You gave him your own award winning smile, “I bet you won’t offer the Boss a handy the next time you see him.”
Enjin chuckled against you, deep and throaty, “You playin’ dirty, Y/n?” Suddenly his cheeky grin morphed into a sly smirk, “That’s alright, I can too.”
You felt your stomach begin to knot at his tone. Something in you seemed to know you made a grave mistake.
“There’s only 5 minutes left,” Enjin lowered himself back into your ear, “I bet I could make you finish in 3.”
Your brain short circuited. For a second you thought you went crazy, because there was absolutely no way the Enjin just said what you thought he said.
You blinked at him slowly, “Like finish finish?”
Enjin’s smirk never left his face, "Switched from playing dirty to dumb? I didn't take you for a coward, Y/n.”
Quickly regaining composure, you tried to play off your initial shock, “Nah, just surprised you actually had the balls to ask.”
A total lie.
Enjin always dripped with confidence, you’d be more shocked if he wasn't a sweet talker. But you knew better than to stoke his ego. You’d rather stroke his-
“I like your confidence.” Abruptly, your jeans were skillfully unzipped, “But let's see how long it will last, brat.”
You quickly spun your upper body back around, watching Enjin’s hand lower into your pants. His thick fingers teased the hem of your panties before his black nails disappeared under the lace.
The outline of his hand stretched the thin fabric. It made your knees weak. You always noticed how massive the blonde’s hands were. Been dreaming how they’d feel against your skin.
You weren't disappointed.
Enjin slipped his thumb and ring finger into your folds, spreading you wide. You shuddered at the action. Grabbing Enjin’s arm for support, you waited with bated breath for his next move.
Enjin didn’t make you wait long. His lengthy fingers found your exposed clit easily. They circled your bud slowly, dragging a muted gasp from you.
Enjin hugged you closer from behind, chuckling in your ear, "Whining already? You're making this too easy.”
You sneered, “Fat chance. I can barely even feel it.”
He leaned into your neck, placing a few chaste kisses, “Really?”
Immediately, Enjin flicked up on your clit, drawing another muffled moan from your lips. You threw your head back on to his shoulder, your legs already shaking from his ruthless stimulation.
“Doesn’t really look like it.”
You ignored his taunting, attempting to think of anything else to distract yourself from cuming too quickly. But Enjin never played fair. As his fingers drifted closer to your dripping entrance, his lips spilled every sinful thought he could conjure.
“I love the way you twitch under my fingers.”
“You feel so soft.”
“I bet I could fuck you right now with how wet you are.”
Enjin’s large fingers pressed firmly into your weeping hole. They stretched and rubbed the tight muscle gently, working you open. While his fingers fucked you beyond oblivion, his thumb moved to continue his abuse on your neglected clit.
Your grip on Enjin tightened as your hips jerked involuntarily. His fingers were too damn big. They filled you up more than your own, reaching spots you normally couldn't.
Then, he hit it. The spot deep in your core that made you see stars. If you weren't practically humping his fingers before you definitely were now.
Enjin noticed your response immediately. His lips pulled into a large grin against your neck as he zeroed in on your g-spot, “Feels good huh, baby.”
You couldn't form a response. Your mouth was already full of sultry whines and desperate pleas. You could only hold your hand to your mouth and hope the others outside of the door couldn't hear you over the music.
“Not uh," Enjin pulled your grip from your mouth with his other hand, “If you wanna hide your slutty noises do it the proper way.”
Roughly grabbing your jaw, he pulled you into a deep kiss. Enjin’s lips felt plush. They fit against your own like a lost puzzle piece. You effortlessly matched his rhythm, sliding your tongue against his.
Gradually, you moaned into his kiss as the pressure in your stomach began to tighten. His fingers refused to let up, scissoring and pumping your over-stimulated pussy.
With one last pornstar moan, your eyes rolled as the cord in your stomach snapped. Your legs quivered weakly beneath you, threatening to give out. Enjin’s hold seemed to be the only thing keeping you standing.
Suddenly, a loud knock at the door made you rip away from Enjin’s kiss.
“3 minutes left, lovebirds!”
You sighed in relief, at least they didn't hear you. Hopefully.
“Looks like it only took 2."
You flinched at Enjin's voice, "What?"
Removing his hand from your pussy, Enjin held out his sticky fingers in front of you face. He rubbed the clear substance together casually.
"You lose, pretty girl."
Your face flushed. You had almost forgotten the entire reason Enjin had been finger blasting you.
"Shit," You chewed on your lip as you glanced up at him through your lashes, "Freebies all yours, asshole. What do you want?"
Enjin's eyes darkened, "How about another 7 minutes?"
│GRIS
He was bigger than you realized.
Though you interacted with Gris more than any other Supporter, you never really took into consideration just how massive he was.
He loomed over you in the small closet. Both of his forearms rested above your head just to make enough room for his tall figure.
You awkwardly fiddled with your thumbs in between you, trying your best not to stare at his firm chest in front of you. It was strange. You normally had no issue talking to Gris. But with the way he was boxing you in, you were struggling just to keep the heat away from your cheeks.
“Sorry, Y/n,” Gris laughed shyly above you, “This is pry not the most comfortable position.”
Craning your neck up, you offered him a gentle smile, “Says the guy who has to fold into himself just to fit in here.”
Gris chucked softly, “Can’t say I’m the smallest guy.”
You laughed and returned your gaze back down. Though, your eyes lingered on his pants for maybe a moment too long. They were fairly baggy, easily concealing what they needed too. But his height told you everything you needed to know. He definitely couldn't be small.
“A guy your size is probably packing in more ways than one-” You slapped your hand over your mouth.
Abruptly, the closet felt ten times smaller. You could practically feel the crushing weight of the silence that answered your slip up. Shit. Gris definitely thought you were some pervert now.
Hiding your face in your hands, you immediately played damage control, “Oh God, I'm so sorry I didn’t mean-”
“Ya,” Gris rubbed the back of his neck, face cherry red, “I guess I am.”
Your eyes widened slightly in shock. The apology on your tongue was swiftly forgotten and buried. Instead, incoherent noises and mumbles cascaded out of your mouth as you tried to figure out what exactly just happened.
Sweet and kind Gris, who was a father figure to most of the team, just admitted he was packing some serious heat. You didn't know what was worse. The fact you asked in the first place or the fact you now desperately wanted to see.
You sighed internally. Screw it. You were already in the dog house. Might as well test your luck. After all, Gris was an attractive man. You wouldn't mind getting a little more “personal” with your favorite Supporter. Especially if he was interested.
Swallowing thickly, you cautiously grazed your hand against his chest. Though the move was meant to be seductive, your hand visibly shook with nerves, "Shouldn't someone else… be the judge of that?”
Gris jolted against your light touch. His already red face somehow turned a shade darker. Clearing his throat, Gris removed one of his hands from the wall and placed it on top of your own hand in a tight grip.
Tentatively, he guided your hand down his chest, allowing your hand to feel up the sculpt of his build. Though his move was bold, he avoided your stare in embarrassment.
You felt your lips tug into an involuntary smile. Taking Gris’ action as approval, you spread your fingers out wide in an attempt to feel more of him. You could feel him shudder under your touch. His toned stomach seemed to flex with every stroke of your nails.
“We have seven minutes,” Gris finally met your gaze with blown pupils, “You can use all you need.”
Your heart slammed against your chest. A new wave of nervousness cleared out any confidence you had leftover.
Gris really did want you too.
Chewing on your lip, you gently tried to push Gris closer to the back of the closet. He looked at you with confusion at first before his lean frame finally allowed you to press him into the wall. Though he didn’t move much, there was now enough room for you to comfortably kneel in front of him.
Starting to crouch, Gris suddenly caught your elbow in his rough grasp, “What are you doing?”
You smirked at his flustered face, “Judging?”
Sighing, Gris reluctantly removed his hold on you. But his eyes never left your own. They watched you like a hawk as you slowly lowered yourself onto your knees. He refused to miss a single moment of your delicate hands starting to unbutton his pants.
You tried to ignore the burning sensation of his stare. You felt a lot less confident under his darkened gaze than his sheepish one.
Pulling his fly open, you paused to take in the sight before you. Gris’ cock strained against his briefs. Half-hard and slightly leaking, it already looked far too intimidating.
You warily stroked him through his briefs, feeling up the heat beneath the thin fabric. Gris hissed at the attention. His hands remained firmly clenched on the door behind you, forcing his body to curl over above you.
“Shit- Y/n, wait-”
You ignored his strained plea, favoring to slide your finger up his shaft. His cock twitched under your touch as you finally curled your finger over the hem of his underwear. Gently, you pulled down the protective fabric. His thick length immediately sprung out from its confinement, bouncing slightly in front of your face.
Your jaw dropped at the sight. You knew he’d be big, but not to this extent. Would you even be able to fit it in your hand - let alone mouth?
Gris’ soft whine above you caused you to come back to Earth. Staring up at him, you cautiously reached for his bare length. It felt heavy in your hand. You could barely wrap your grasp around his girth. It made your stomach flip; though you weren't sure if it was from excitement or nervousness.
Locking eyes, you made a show of spitting on dick, slicking him up the best you could. Gris watched you with needy eyes. His lip was firmly planted in between his teeth as he suppressed another deep groan.
Feeling emboldened, you kissed his tip softly, “I might need a closer look to judge properly.”
Grunting, Gris pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, “I think so too.”
Gris’ words made you take a deep breath before you continued. You started slowly, mildly stroking up and down his length. It was just enough to get his legs weak and mind foggy.
You watched him with curious eyes, adjusting your grip based on his reactions. You found his sweet spot quickly. He liked it when you tugged hard, squeezing his cock in a tight grip. His hips jerked wildly every time your thumb rubbed over his tip, massaging in dots of pre-cum.
And when you had him right where you wanted him - breath quickened, core tightened, legs shaking - you pulled away.
Gris’ response was immediate. His low voice whined at the rejection, breaking at the end.
You gave him an innocent smile, “Are you ready for my verdict now?”
Gris shook his head, “No.” Reaching down, he gently cupped your jaw and caressed your cheek with his thumb, “...I think you need to look a little closer.”
You felt your clit throb at the sight of him. His hair was a train wreck and his face was dusted in a dark shade of pink. You wondered if it was too late to just ask him to fuck you.
Biting back your own satisfaction, you allowed Gris to guide your face back to his hardened cock. You licked up his length at a teasing pace. Your lips purposely lingered on his tip so you could swirl your tongue around the pink flesh.
Gris jerked against you. His hand slid from your jaw to the side of your head, clutching a fist full of your hair. You winced against his length. Gris’ grip strength was unreal - even when he was trying to hold it back.
Bobbing your head, you tried to take in as much Gris as you could. Your lips strained against his girth. It felt like trying to swallow a metal pipe.
Breathing in through your nose, you did your best not to scrape your teeth against his sensitive flesh. While you used your hands to pleasure the remaining length your mouth couldn't accommodate.
As Gris’ cock began to twitch, you felt his grip suddenly shift on your hair. He pulled your head closer, roughly fucking your mouth. You clutched onto his hips for support. His brutal pace sent his tip plowing into the back of your throat.
You groaned against him. The already little air supply you had was seemingly completely cutoff. Eventually, Gris’ hips snapped one final time. Thick fluid spilled down your esophagus in short bursts as Gris growled out a moan.
You did your best to keep his cock comfortably sat in your mouth, allowing him to ride out his orgasm. But you could feel a few tear drops begin to stream down your face at the discomfort.
Abruptly, Gris pulled himself from your mouth and squatted down. His large hands cupped your head as he whipped tears and spit from your face.
“I’m so sorry,” He kissed your temple softly, “I didn’t mean to be so rough with ya’.”
“S’alright,” You threw him a cheeky smile, “You were right though.”
Gris titled his head in confusion.
“You’re fucking huge.”
Gris’ face went up in flames as he hid his face in the palm of his hands, “Sorry.”
You could only laugh at his embarrassed form. He was too sweet for his own good.
“And Gris…”
He peaked through his fingers.
“You may wanna pull up your pants,” You pointed at the opening door, “Times up.”
│ZANKA
You just wanted to finish.
7 minutes alone with Zanka was practically torture.
Why?
Hell would freeze over before Zanka saw you as anything more than a friend. You were partners with him before Rudo took your place. Spent far too much time around his company than you liked to admit. It was no surprise your stupid heart began to form a small crush.
You weren't mad when Zanka was assigned to Rudo. In reality, you were relieved you didn’t have to hide your feelings around him anymore. It felt like a weight had been taken off your shoulders.
But less time together didn’t stop Zanka from still seeing you as his closest confidant.
Sitting on the floor with your back against the closet’s wall, Zanka rested his head comfortably on your shoulder. You did your best to calm your racing heart. But it was a difficult task when all you could focus on was how close Zanka’s face was to yours.
“Are you even listening?”
You jumped at Zanka’s voice, “What?”
“Seriously?” He sat up straight, facing his head toward you, “What are ya’ nervous or something’?”
You huffed, “I spend every living moment with you, how could I be nervous?”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Abruptly, Zanka poked your cheek with his finger. The action made you jump out of your skin, causing you to slam your head against the wall. The shit eating grin that appeared on Zanka’s face made you frown immediately.
“You really are nervous.”
You rubbed the back of your head, “Am not.”
Zanka rolled his eyes, “Are so.”
Your eye twitched in irritation, “Never in a million years could you make me nervous.”
Except when he looks anywhere in your direction. Hell, anytime he breathes within your vicinity.
“Oh really?”
Zanka’s teasing tone made you regret your statement immediately. You snapped your eyes in his direction, waiting for whatever idiotic plan he was conjuring up.
Then, Zanka moved his hand closer to yours. His slim fingers weeded themselves between your own, capturing your hand.
“So,” He rubbed a small circle into your skin with his thumb, “This doesn't make you nervous?”
Your pulse quickened as you stared down at your interlocked hands. His skin was smooth as porcelain yet rough from years of training with his Vital Instrument. You wondered how they’d feel in more intimate places.
Swallowing hard, you avoided his gaze, “No.”
“Then,” Zanka released your hand slowly, “How about this?”
He trailed his hand along your arm, caressing your skin up to your neck. Gently cupping your nape, he allowed the palm of his hand to rest below your hairline. The pressure he used was gentle but firm. It held your head in place, forcing you to look at him.
You took a sharp breath. Zanka’s eyes bore into your own, dissecting your every move. They made you hesitant to lie. Made you consider letting him win this round so you could crawl back into your hole and forget your feelings.
But pride was the only thing you had Zanka beat at.
“No,” You gave him your best smirk, “Not even a little.”
Zanka laughed softly but didn’t remove his hold. Instead, he leaned in closer, forcing his way further into your personal space. You tried to move your head back but Zanka’s hand was a quick reminder you weren't going anywhere.
Zanka noticed your movement instantly, “For some reason, I find that hard to believe.”
You scoffed, “Are you sure you're not the one nervous?”
It was tough talk for someone who was currently red up to their ears. But the room was dark and as far as Zanka knew, you were cool as a cucumber.
“No,” Zanka continued to move closer, “My heart’s beating so fast right now I’m scared it’ll beat right out of my chest.”
Your eyes widened at Zanka’s confession. You couldn't believe your ears. Were you hearing things?
“I was really hoping…”
You had little time to dwindle on your state of hearing before Zanka almost closed the gap between you.
“You felt the same way.”
Zanka’s lips crashed onto your own savagely. He cupped your face in both of his hands, deepening the kiss as much as he could.
You could only grasp onto his shirt tightly as he devoured your lips greedily. The kiss had you seeing stars. Your tongues danced together perfectly as he gently sucked your lips.
You whined into him, pulling him closer by his collar. Zanka easily complied. Without removing his touch, he hoisted you onto his lap. His large hands grabbed your thighs firmly, keeping them spread around his waist.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, forcing him even closer. Zanka smiled into the kiss causing you to flush.
Just how long had he been wanting this too?
Finally pulling away, you watched each other with heaving chests. You slid your hands down to his shoulders, nervously gnawing at the inside of your mouth, “I think I’m nervous now.”
Zanka chuckled lowly. The sound reverberated off the walls, sending a pang of need through your spine.
“I’m glad.”
Adjusting your position on his lap, you flinched at the feeling of something hard. Immediately, Zanka’s face reddened. You had never seen him more mortified - other than the time Rudo flung shit at him.
“Sorry-”
Zanka grunted sharply as you rolled your hips against his. You met his stunned gaze with innocent eyes. You weren't really sure what you were doing.
But one thing you knew for sure…
“Are you nervous, Zanka?”
You wanted to alleviate that pressure in his pants more than anything.
Instantly, Zanka’s grip left your thighs and moved to your hips, “No.”
You shuddered against Zanka’s solid hold. His lean hands rolled your hips for you, grinding you against his already half-hard cock.
Though there were two layers of fabric between you, sparks of pleasure shot down your spine with every thrust. His thick length rubbed your clit just right. It was enough to get you shaking and panting on his lap in seconds.
Zanka easily captured your lips again as he continued to rock your body against his own. You could only grasp his shoulders tighter as you went along for the ride.
Just as you started to get comfortable, Zanka suddenly flipped you to the floor, pinning you beneath him. He threw your leg over his shoulder as he continued to thrust against your covered pussy.
You begged against his lips, pleading for him to go harder. Zanka followed your commands without complaint. His large hand used your inner thigh as leverage as he desperately grinded against you.
It didn’t take long for the cord in your stomach to wind up. It pulled taught, tugging at your stimulated lower half. You gripped Zanka’s hair as you cried out softly.
You came hard, trembling underneath him. Though the man above you seemed to be in the same position. His toned core tightened and shook against your own as he groaned in your ear.
Laying your head back on the ground you clenched your eyes shut, “I really like you, Zanka. I’m sorry I never told you.”
Zanka leaned down, resting his face on your breasts, “Thank God, or this would've been really awkward, Y/n.”
You rolled your eyes with a laugh, “You’re telling me.”
“Woah,”
You both froze on the spot.
Enjin leaned on the door frame, grinning ear to ear, “Looks like you guys had fun.”
HOW THE JJK BOYS HOLD YOUR HAND WHEN THEY FUCK YOU
basically.
Listen. This video had me fucked up when @chaotic-on-main first showed me it. I wrote this whole ass one shot for Yuji based off it. I still watch it randomly to this day. It’s got me in a chokehold.
The Megumi and Gojo part 🥵. So simple yet so sexy.
Warnings: NSFW 18+, unprotected sex, p in v, slight dirty talk, squirting, multiple orgasms, oral (male receiving), blowjob, deepthroating, slight breast play, riding, marking, hickeys, softdom!reader, sub!inumaki, overstimulation, him crying, Inumaki using his cursed speech on her
Yours Truly: WHINY SUB INUMAKI AGENDA IS WHAT I LIVE FOR Enjoy!
Taglist: @regu1ar-huh @bellaciao0
Kinktober masterlist
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵︵‿୨♡୧‿
In the dim glow of the bedside lamp, Toge lay on the bed, his heart pounding as his girlfriend straddled his lap. She had discovered his secret earlier that evening—his virginity—and her eyes had lit up with a hungry spark. She wanted to claim him, to be the one who shattered his innocence. Toge couldn't speak normally because of his cursed speech, but he nodded eagerly when she asked for permission, whispering his safe word: 'Salmon.' It meant yes, he trusted her completely.
She leaned in first, her lips brushing his in a soft kiss that quickly deepened into a heated makeout. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, exploring him with gentle dominance, her hands cupping his face to hold him steady. Toge's breaths came in short gasps, his body tensing under her control. She pulled back slightly, her fingers tracing the cursed marks on his cheeks and mouth—those black diamond patterns that marked his power. She kissed them tenderly, then trailed her lips down his neck, sucking lightly at first.
With deliberate slowness, she tugged his shirt up and over his head, exposing his lean chest. Her mouth returned to his skin, kissing along his collarbone and down to his shoulders. She bit gently, then harder, leaving red hickeys blooming across his pale skin—marks of her possession. Toge's hands gripped the sheets, his body arching into her touch as she marked him.
Her hands moved lower, fingers hooking into his pants and unzipping them with a teasing drag. She slid them down his legs, pulling them off, leaving him in just his boxers. Her palm pressed against the bulge there, rubbing his hardening cock through the thin fabric. Toge bucked his hips involuntarily, a muffled whine escaping his sealed lips. She continued to palm him firmly, her other hand roaming his body, kissing his chest, his stomach, everywhere but where he needed her most.
He was close—his cock throbbing under her hand, pre-cum soaking through the boxers—when she suddenly stopped. Toge whined louder, his eyes pleading. She hushed him with a finger to his lips, her voice soft and reassuring. "Shh, baby, I'll take care of you. Just wait a little longer." Her words were a promise, her soft dom nature shining through as she guided him.
Dropping to her knees beside the bed, she hooked her fingers into his boxers and yanked them down. His cock sprang free, hard and leaking, the head flushed red. She wrapped her hand around the base and pumped slowly, her grip firm. Leaning in, she licked the head, swirling her tongue around the slit to taste his pre-cum. Toge's head fell back against the pillow, his body shaking as she opened her mouth wider and took him in.
She deepthroated him inch by inch, her throat relaxing to swallow him whole. Her free hand cupped his balls, fondling them gently, rolling them in her palm. Above her, Toge trembled violently, his thighs quivering, hands fisting the sheets. The wet heat of her mouth, the suction— it was too much. He came with a choked gasp, his cock pulsing as he shot ropes of cum down her throat. She swallowed every drop, humming around him until he softened slightly.
Rising, she stripped off her clothes quickly—shirt, bra, pants, panties—revealing her curves to his wide-eyed stare. Toge couldn't look away, especially from her breasts, full and swaying as she moved. She pushed him back fully onto the bed and climbed on top, straddling his hips again. "You can touch me," she murmured, taking his hands and guiding them to her breasts. "Because I'm yours, Toge. It's okay." His fingers squeezed tentatively at first, then more boldly, thumbs brushing her nipples as she moaned softly.
She reached down, grasping his cock—which was already hardening again—and lined it up with her entrance. "I want to ruin you for anyone else," she whispered, her voice laced with that corrupting desire. Slowly, she lowered herself onto him, her pussy stretching around his girth. They both moaned at the sensation—her from how full he made her feel, his size hitting deep; him from the tight, wet heat enveloping him for the first time, nothing like his hand could compare.
Before she could even move, Toge's hips jerked, and he came inside her, his cock twitching as he filled her with his release. Hot cum spilled deep, and he blushed furiously, averting his eyes in embarrassment at how quickly it happened. She chuckled softly, grinding down to keep him buried. "Do I feel that good, baby? Already cumming just from being inside me?"
He nodded shyly, still flushed. She started moving then, lifting her hips and bouncing down, riding him with steady rhythm. Her breasts jiggled with each thrust, and she leaned forward to kiss him, swallowing his muffled moans into her mouth. Toge was overwhelmed—the slick slide of her pussy, the way she clenched around him—it built fast. His second orgasm approached, thighs shaking beneath her.
She noticed his whines growing desperate, his mouth open and panting against her lips. "Cum with me, baby," she commanded softly, her own pleasure peaking. They shattered together, her pussy milking his cock as she came, walls fluttering around him. He panted heavily, whining, his body quaking as cum mixed inside her.
Lifting her head, she brushed his hair back. "You done, love?" Toge shook his head no, his eyes glazed with need. In his haze, he broke his silence, cursed speech slipping out in a whisper: "Keep going." The words carried his raw plea. She shivered at the sound—his voice, forbidden and powerful, used just for her. She didn't mind; it only fueled her.
She breathed, body instantly starting to fuck him again, rolling her hips faster. Toge's control slipped further. "Faster," he gasped, The words washed over her like a command, but she welcomed it, picking up speed, slamming down onto his cock. Pleasure overwhelmed them both; she threw her head back, riding him hard, her voice breaking. "You feel so good, Toge—stretching me, filling me up."
He whined loudly, moans spilling from his open mouth, his tongue poking out slightly in ecstasy. Tears welled in his eyes from the intensity, spilling down his cheeks as she pounded into him. Feeling his climax build, Toge grabbed her hips, fingers digging in, and thrust up to meet her. "Cum!" he cried. His words hit her like a wave, pushing her over the edge. They came together again, her pussy clenching tight as she squirted around his cock, his release flooding her once more. Toge's body went limp beneath her, spent and trembling, but utterly hers.
smut mdni, blowjob, inumaki speaks a little, for this req
It was only fair to want to help your sweet boyfriend relax, right?
He was clicking away on his controller like he usually does when he has free time. eyes drafting from left to right on the monitor, closely following the targets he has to shoot.
you come up behind him, running your fingers over his shoulder blades, smoothing out his shirt.
"Hm?" he hums, looking up and smiling at you. You grin, leaning down to kiss his lips before dropping your hands to the side. "You're so cute, you know that, baby?" He doesn't reply, but the hue of pink that appears on his cheeks and the tip of his ears says enough.
You let him get back to it and when you know he's into it, you drop to your knees, shuffling to settle between his spread legs.
You bite your lip and start trailing kisses lower, teasing the waistband of his shorts. His breath catches, and he grunts, eyes never leaving the screen. Oh so he wants to stay focused on his game, right? you'll make him forget all about it.
“baby...” he whispers, like he's about to scold you, but the tone’s weak — clearly distracted.
You chuckle and take him in your mouth, slow and deliberate. His controller nearly slips from his fingers, but he fights to keep playing, groaning when your tongue swirls around the tip.
“tuna” he gasps, voice cracking between button presses
You grin, sucking harder, hands gripping his thighs to keep him steady. He shudders, eyes flickering between the game and you.
“Not… fuck,” he pants, making sure it's not loud enough for you to hear, fingers fumbling with combos.
You hum around him, your wet mouth the perfect distraction. His hands curl into fists, knuckles white — equal parts frustration and pleasure.
Finally, he throws his controller on his table, indicating that he won or maybe lost, who knows.
he stares, no, almost glares at you but you know he could never be mad. Especially not at his pretty girlfriend who looks so pretty with her mouth full with his cock.
He whimpers, bringing his hand to the back of your head, pushing you in deeper. his body curling forward, finishing deep down your throat. a strained moan leaving his mouth. Inumaki swears his vision just went white and when he finally opens his eyes, he sees you smiling all pretty with your lips covered in his cum.
★ thinking about toge inumaki using his cursed technique to deny your orgasm.
you’re already breathless beneath him, every nerve in your body strung tight. your thighs twitch, your fingers clutch at the sheets, and he’s barely even touched you yet. just his voice—that voice—is enough to have you falling apart.
his mouth is right at your ear when he murmurs, low and deliberate:
“don’t come.”
your body locks up, a frustrated whimper escaping your lips. the heat between your legs is unbearable, pulsing with need. but no matter how close you get, your body won’t let go. not until he says so.
his hands are slow and precise, trailing over every sensitive inch of you like he’s savoring the way you tremble. your breath hitches with every stroke, every teasing movement, and still—nothing. the pressure builds, but the release won’t come.
“please,” you whisper, voice wrecked. “toge, please—i can’t—”
he doesn’t reply right away, just watches you with that same calm, controlled expression. his fingers trace your skin, making you ache with need, but he’s not breaking his rule. not yet.
you’re shaking now, soaked, eyes glassy with how badly you need him to let you fall. and when he finally leans in again, his voice a velvet command:
“come.”
it crashes through you, white-hot and overwhelming. your body arches off the bed, a desperate moan tearing from your throat as the wave overtakes you, long and hard and blinding. you cling to him like a lifeline, barely aware of anything except the feeling of him holding you through it, grounding you.
you’re breathless, trembling, and he watches you with a cool, calculating expression. after a moment, he leans in closer, his voice as steady as ever:
"again."
Ready! Steady! Fuck! @unforgiveablehplover - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
