Warning: Explicit 

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Mira walked out of the shower, her eyes swollen, head throbbing and body stiff. She wanted to sleep for centuries. Deimos stood in front of his dresser, absent-mindedly slipping on a shirt. He was wearing a white bralette underneath and the sight took her aback for a second. Deimos has changed in front of her before, it’s been a more than a month of hanging out and camping at his place, but in this moment, in Mira’s fragile state, the sight of Deimos wearing a bralette underneath his tank top seemed foreign. She’s seen him cook noodles wearing a lace bralette. She’s walked in when he’s just in boxers and a velvet red bra. She’s slept with him in a soft babydoll. She’s always just passed it off as normal.

Yet, in this moment, Deimos looked sexy.

Sensuous.

His eyes landed on her, Mira wearing his boxers and smallest t-shirt, standing quietly and staring straight back at him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

When did he ever understand how Mira felt? When did Mira ever understand how he felt? When did she understand the expression he wore was genuine? When did she understand the twitch of his lip meant he was stressed? When did he ever understand her little quirks?

Slowly, Mira walked over to him.

She knew she was freaking him out. She knew it in the way his eyes darted from side to side, from how he backed himself up the wall. He knew what she was thinking as well, and he stopped breathing when Mira stepped right in front of him, hand on his chest.

Calmly, she lifted up his black shirt, revealing the soft, olive skin underneath and his lace bralette. Mira pulled his shirt all the way up, her hand feeling Deimos’ quickened heartbeat, and stared at the bralette he wore. It was see-through and thin, his pink nipples, perked and hard from the cold air between them. Deimos’ chest rose and fell quickly, his breath quick and stunted. He said nothing to Mira as she stared at his chest.

Then, ever so gently, she slid her hand up his stomach to his chest, feeling how his soft skin transitioned to lace. He jolted from her touch, a gasp escaping his lips. His skin was hot. The lace was rough. If it were Mira, it would irritate her nipples. The rough fabric would keep rubbing against them and drive her insane. Did he like that sensation? Fabric and roughness, ghosting across his sensitive tips, rubbing his buttons with every move he made? Was it exciting sitting in class, wearing a bralette, feeling the fabric tease him like invisible fingers?

Gently, Mira slid her finger over one of Deimos’ perked nipples. She rolled the little nip around, feeling how hard it was, wondering in awe if this one little button could bring him to his knees with enough teasing. He flinched again, silent this time, but he breathed harder. Mira didn’t look at Deimos’ expression once, entranced by the swirling patterns on the lace, and how good the bralette looked on Deimos’ skin. Once again, she brushed his nipple with the tips of her finger, Deimos’ body absolutely still this time. She did it again and again, switching from the right to the left, her touches barely meeting his skin. His nipples seemed to get harder and harder, and she teased them by tugging at the bralette and making the rough fabric brush against his sensitive tips. For a solid minute, she teased one nipple, flicking it playfully and swirling her finger around it in circles. Deimos was shaking underneath her touch, his body tense and trembling now from Mira’s suggestive touches. She placed her hand flat on his chest and rubbed upwards, feeling his nipple on the palm of her hand and massaged it slowly. Eventually, she let go of his shirt and slipped both hands underneath, teasing and touching both his nipples, feeling how hard they were with her seductive touches.

With the shirt covering his alluring bralette, Mira finally looked at Deimos.

His face was splashed in red and lips bruised from biting them so hard. His eyes were half-lidded and gaze burning, animalistic and hungry. It made Mira’s heart skip a beat. He licked his lips, slowly blinking at her and swallowed thickly, his kissable Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so. Mira memorized this face. The contours of his cheeks, the furrowing of his eyebrows, the discolouration in his lips, the redness of his skin, the need in his eyes. She’s never seen such an expression. Deimos was turned on. He was infatuated. He liked what Mira was doing.

Staring straight at him, Mira slid her hands up his chest again and pinched his nipples suddenly. He clicked out of his heated trance and grabbed the nearby curtain, a moan escaping his lips. It was erotic. He was erotic. He liked this.

Mira let him ride off the first wave of pleasure slowly, teasing his nipples in circles with the pads of her thumb gently. Then, however, she increased the pressure until she was rubbing them hard in bruising circles like what she does with her clit. Deimos reacted the way she did, crumpling a little and moaning again. His face got even redder.

“F-fuck,” he whimpered out. Mira swallowed hard, almost breathless from how erotic Deimos was.

Blood roared in her ears and she slowly lifted up his shirt again. This time, Deimos grabbed the ends and pulled it up for her, leaving both her hands free to explore every inch of his skin. She pulled down his bralette and let his nipples feel the cool air. They were swollen and large from being teased before. Mira let go of the fabric and it snapped into place. She admired how poignant his nipples were against the white bralette, how easily it was to tease him with the tips of her nail. The gentlest brush of her nail on his nipple made him go insane, the pleasure heightened and doubled as he awaited her next move.

Drunk off just the intoxicated expression Deimos gave Mira, the girl leaned in and blew cold air on his nipples. He whimpered, high-pitched and deliciously sweet. Then, ever so slowly, she licked up his chest and nipples, tasting him and feeling the rough fabric against her skin. She swirled her tongue around his perked button, rolling it in her mouth like a sweet little candy. Deimos suddenly whimpered and swore in Greek, leaning and shaking against the wall. How sensitive was he?

Mira lifted her mouth from her little pink treat, strings of spit connecting them together still and peered up at the boy. Deimos’ delicious lips were parted and he gasped shakily, taken aback by Mira’s smouldering stare. She kissed between his chest and went back to his wet nipple, barely touching it with the tip of her tongue. Deimos’s legs shook and she realized the throbbing hard-on between his legs. Her heart kicked into full gear, ramming against her ribcage.

“F-Fuck, M-Mira,” Deimos groaned as she teased him once again with the tip of her tongue. He clutched onto the curtains tight and doubled over when Mira bit his left nipple playfully. A high-pitched gasped escaped him and the noise made Mira wet. Softly, she kissed every inch of his chest and bralette, tasting him on her lips as she did, feeling his warmth and smelling him as well. She couldn’t help herself but add dark bruises near his nipples, pleasuring one spot extremely close to his nipple with her lips and tongue to make Deimos go insane. With one flick, he was down. With one lick, he whimpered out. With one hard suck, he called out Mira’s name.

Entranced by such a powerful and muscular body taken down with just her fingers and lips, Mira licked up one nipple and with the other hand, played with the other, pushing and teasing his dripping nipple with her cold saliva. Deimos covered his mouth but a needy whine came out, urging Mira to flick teasingly at the perked button.

Mira worshiped his body. She explored every inch of his torso with calculated precision, recording every noise and shiver Deimos made from her touch and kisses alone. She licked every millimetre of his nipples, pleasuring and tasting and worshiping him as if he was a god.

As her lips bit and sucked at Deimos’ red and swollen nipples, her hands wandered lower. At one point, she had spread his legs open and rubbed her right thigh in between, making the male involuntarily jut to her fleeting touches. Her hands slipped to his groin and felt his erection beneath his sweatpants, throbbing and hard, and she searched further back to his round ass. Mira couldn’t help but squeeze him, feeling how soft and full he was. Deimos gasped and whimpered, finally succumbing to Mira’s touches, letting all the shakes, shivers and sounds he tried to suppress free.

Mira was breathless taking down such a beast as him.

Slowly, she massaged Deimos’ ass in circles, grabbing every inch of him and spreading him open. He reacted wonderfully to Mira’s obsessive touches and cursed loudly in Greek. Sucking in a shaky breath, she slipped her hand in the middle of his ass and rubbed carefully, gaging the reaction she’d get.

Deimos loved every second of it.

He groaned and moaned and grinded to Mira’s fingers, egging her further to his entrance. Mira couldn’t breathe and she could see stars. She lifted her lips from his nipples and stared at him. He looked like he was going to pass out of sheer pleasure. He looked sexy.

Mira wanted to kiss him.

Slowly, she retracted her hands from his clothed entrance and slipped higher up to the hem of his pants. For only a second, she slipped underneath his pants and felt lace.

He was wearing panties.

“Stop,” Deimos gasped suddenly. His voice was high and breathy, his entire face red as a tomato. Roughly, he shoved Mira off. He covered his mouth and avoided looking at her. He muttered something in Greek and Mira didn’t understand. Whatever he said, it broke Mira’s heart. He sounded like he was about to cry.

“I’m sorry,” Mira said immediately. She had broken out of her infatuated trance and realized what she had just done. “Oh my god, Deimos, I’m so sorry.”

“N-no, it’s not what you think.” He shook his head. He looked lost and he looked everywhere but Mira’s stare. “I-I don’t want to do something that you’ll regret.”

Mira knows that she would never regret doing this.

“You’re in a fragile state, a-and I know you know that as well,” he continued. He breathed in deeply and exhaled. “Today…tonight just isn’t the time.”

“I…understand,” Mira nodded. She tried to seem understanding and compassionate but she knew the smile she wore barely masked up the loneliness she felt. Yes, she knew her actions were just to feel the heat of another. She was in an emotionally weakened state after her bout with Raven. But…her actions also felt different compared to all the others. It felt…familiar. Something she’s fantasized about before. Something that’s nagged at the back of her mind before. Something she’s wanted to do for a while.

“You can sleep in my bed, I’ll take the floor,” he murmured softly.

“No, Deimos, it’s your home, I can’t-”

“Mira, take it,” he sighed. “For me, ok?”

She gnawed on her lip and nodded slowly. Deimos ran his hand shakily through his hair and passed her quickly. He walked straight into his washroom and locked the door. A few seconds later, he turned on the shower even though he had showered before Mira.