#when your favored writing style bites you in the ass

[adriancatrin]

me rereading my fic and wanting to continue it and knowing that the remainder of the first draft is crammed in shitty handwriting in two huge ass notebooks… why did i do this to myself

#i should specify. the fic is the Only thing filling the notebooks. i still don’t understand how i wrote a novel in less than a month #when i’ve never written a full novel before in any amount of time #the notebooks are those five subject ones #i Think one might be open to where i left off? i still need to check cuz it’s under a million other things on my desk #we’ll see #pffjdjsksk #when your favored writing style bites you in the ass #update #no end in sight #<i also may have fucked myself by naming the fic that. uhhh

[astroluvr]

YES! Pls do a cheating fic! Lmaoooo my toxic ass loves those 😂😂 - 🙈

Capture Your Emotion

jack harlow x reader

summary: neelam hired you as jack's tour photographer to help you build up your portfolio, but you find jack much more captivating than any action shot- despite him being taken

warnings: 18+, reader and jack are on the tour bus, so it's a lil public (eek!), and cheating

a/n: now, y'all knooowww i don't write smut, so this is not going to be mind-blowing, but i am posting this as a thank you to y'all for being so patient with me! i've been m.i.a lowkey, but i've never not felt at home with y'all, so here's this! i hope you enjoy :) p.s- there is a possible pt 2, but let's see how this does first lol

***

You knew it was wrong from the moment you laid eyes on Jack. You knew that what you felt was wrong to the point where even thinking about how good Jack looked in his expensive hoodie and blue jeans that covered his long legs down to his New Balances felt like a sin, but you couldn’t help it.

Not even when his girlfriend- tall and gorgeous, sat next to him and smacked a kiss on his lips.

From that point on, you tried to continue doing your job without thinking too much about a taken man. Neelam, as a family friend, pulled off a huge favor to do some photography for Jack to build up your portfolio, and so far, it was going well. Urban became good friends with you, and even offered some tips- despite your styles being different, and Jack started to hang around you as a result.

When you met him the night before his tour started off, you thought that maybe the woman you saw was just a fling since you hadn’t seen her for a while, but it wasn’t long before she was standing right next to you behind stage and giving Jack good luck kisses and running off with his credit card in the early mornings of tour stops. It was then that you tried to contain some of your arousal for Jack, but it was hard to when you noticed the way he looked at you too.

Which is why you were sure the guilt wracked you every time you saw Marie, knowing what happened on a muggy night after a bad show. Being a photographer, you thought of your subjects as having a relationship with a camera, and trying to capture all the emotion, so it wasn’t hard to say that Jack was getting less motivated as the night went on. When Jack rushed off the stage with a ‘good night’, you tried to follow him, and couldn’t help but notice that you hadn’t seen Marie all day.

“Jack, are you alright?” You asked him, finding him in the back of the charter bus, abandoning your usual post at the front of the bus where you usually sat, hardly ever bothered by anyone besides Neelam and Urban.

It was dark out after a sweltering day, and needless to say that nobody was in the best mood after the long day. Even with the moon high in the sky, the air conditioning on the bus could still do very little to make a difference. Neelam was the one who made a joke that Marie left because her spray tan was melting off, and it was hard for you to stifle your laughter when Jack had stride pass.

He didn’t even take his headphones off to hear what you said, but you figured that being the star he was, he knew how to read lips well.

“I know you probably want to be alone. I just wanted to check on you. I noticed that Marie left.”

You weren’t sure why the last sentence came out, it was a slight overstep- you knew, but you were itching to see him twitch in any way that might allow you to tuck some of your guilt away.

“She had to go home. It was nothing.” He told you, his headphones were still on.

Due to the heat of the bus, you only wore a spaghetti strap tank and rather tiny shorts. It didn’t reveal much, but it was enough for Jack to bite his bottom lip when you hit a bump in the road and slid forward into the aisle he was sitting on to give him a glance at your breasts.

“You want to sit down?” He asked, raising his eyebrows, and finally pulling those headphones off.

You were slightly dejected by his confirmation that Marie was still in the picture, but couldn’t find it in yourself to go back to your seat after seeing him with his hair wild and legs spread and those slender fingers on his knees.

When you sat down, you realized that you had never been so close to Jack. Sure, you’d been shoulder to shoulder for a moment or so when discussing a couple of shots that you wanted to take of him onstage, but never several aisles behind the people you usually travelled with either asleep or too caught up in having a break to care about what was going on behind them.

Almost as soon as you sat down, the driver did a quick glance around the back and once he saw that there wasn’t much motion, he turned off the lights, and you continued down the long stretch of road that was hardly occupied by much else. You noticed that Jack had the shades down around him, and it made you feel much more comfortable. If anyone saw you, there’s no telling what rumors might come of it and nip your career in the bud before it even started.

When you got closer to Jack, you tried to remind yourself that nothing could happen if he didn’t let it, but you wished like Hell he’d do something with those pretty pink lips that were parted ever so slightly as he kept his gaze on you, or maybe even his fingers that were rubbing up and down his thighs.

“Hey, I meant to tell you earlier that I fuck with those pictures you took. I’m going to post them after this week, and I’ll tag you. Just promise me you won’t leave me for some big shot when they hit you up.”

You chuckled slightly and smiled big when he held out his pinky. You wrapped it around his finger, and almost shivered at how big his hand was. “I promise.”

“Can you promise me somethin’ else while we’re at it?” You swallowed and nodded, and Jack loosened his grip as he tried to gauge your expression. “That you won’t tell anyone else how cute I think you are. Even when I’m kissing Marie, it’s- you’re all I think about.”

“Jack-” You pulled back, and Jack didn’t hesitate.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, it’s just that I don’t know what to do with myself when I’m around you. And if I did, then I’m sorry. You can walk away, and nothing ever happened, I swear.”

“That doesn’t make me uncomfortable.” You whispered, leaning towards him, and biting your own lip as your heart pounded, and you worried that you might find yourself shooting up in bed any minute with an embarrassing ache.

“You promise?” he nodded, curly hair casting a shadow over you as you looked into those blue eyes that were getting darker with every passing moment.

“I promise.”

As if both of you snapped at the same time, you met in the little bit of space between you and crashed into a kiss. Oddly enough, you seemed to care less about Marie than ever before, and you hoped that Jack would give you something to replace the guilt that would undoubtedly come back to life by morning.

Despite it all though, neither you nor Jack had it in you to stop. In the dark, your hands grabbed whatever they could of each other. It was like you were trying to mold each other’s bodies from the memory of fantasy, yet still created something better than your wildest dreams.

It didn’t take long for Jack to have your back against the seat in front of you, and your tank top pulled up over your chest. His cock was beneath you and it was so hard that you started to ache for him where you needed him most.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty.” He groaned, palming himself as you panted while he played with one of your breasts, and suckled the other in a desperate alternation.

“Jack.” You mewled, your head falling forward, and your lips brushed the back of his head.

“What, baby?” He looked at you, and you were glad he couldn’t see how your face contorted into a medley of pleasure and desperation at the sight of him.

“Touch me.”

Without taking another moment of consideration, Jack leaned on your back again, and helped you to tug down your shorts. You pursed your lips to stay quiet to keep the rest of the bus from hearing you, but Jack seemed even more spurred on when he noticed the challenge you had given yourself.

Jack kissed you once, hard and long, even slipping his tongue into your mouth for a messier result, and slowly massaged his way into your cunt. You were embarrassingly wet, but you couldn’t do much more than stutter your hips against him and whine.

“Damn, Y/N. Getting fucked by a taken man gets you like this?” He tsked, and your cheeks warmed and your pussy clenched around his fingers. “I guess so, huh?”

“J-Jack, I know it’s bad.” You placed your hands on his shoulder and tried to give yourself what he wasn’t out of pure desperation.

“But you still want more.” He teased, and your eyes watered. “If that’s what you want, you can have it. I’ve wanted to give you what you asked for since the first time I saw you. Whatever it is, baby, you just ask me, and I got you, alright?”

“O-Okay.” You moaned, even though all his words sounded like he was talking to you from underwater.

He suckled on your neck, and if he wasn’t working your clit so well while he did it, you’d be swatting him away to keep the mark away, but now you could barely care. Your breathing became uneven, and your legs couldn’t decide whether to stay open or closed as he pulled you closer to edge.

“You want to cum?”

“Mmhmm! Yes.” You tried to keep yourself quiet, and you feared what your orgasm might bring.

“Then what’d I tell you to do?” He pulled away from your neck and looked you into your eyes that were wide as saucers. Jack took his free hand and held your face steady on his. “When you want to do something, you ask. Now, if you want to cum, you better ask.”

The question made you burn in embarrassment, but it was the only thing that was standing in your way, so you puffed up your chest, and asked. “Please can I cum, Jack? Please?”

“So sweet, Y/N.” He hummed, and he curled his fingers in a way that made you yelp.

You had no choice but to drop your mouth into Jack’s neck and moan there, letting him pet your G-spot, and circle your clit like he had touched you a million times before. The minute you thought of him teaching himself your body through his imagination, you could feel your body tensing for a moment before creating your release.

You laid there for a moment, letting your ears ring before you came back down to Earth, your legs trembling just enough for Jack to see as he pulled his fingers out of you, sliding the two fingers into his mouth and smirking at the way you panted in pleasure and disbelief.

“Jack, I-”

“Fuck are y’all doing back here?” Urban came down the aisle in a pair of shorts and a wife beater as he rubbed his eyes.

You stammered, but Jack was much quicker in gathering his composure than you were, and he had his hoodie over your lap before Urban could even glance, and you tried not to let a moan slip out when he pet your cunt on the sly.

“I had something in my eye, and I asked Y/N to help me.”

“Really? ‘Cause it sounded like you two were fucking.” You stayed quiet, but shook your head.

Jack and Urban shared a glance that didn’t even make their expressions change, but Urban’s face erupted in amusement, and Jack chuckled.

“You’re a damn dog, man, but I can't stand her ass anyway.” Urban said casually before walking off, and you slapped Jack’s shoulder when Urban disappeared.

“It’s alright, babe. It’s only Urban.”

“So, you do this a lot, then?” You scoffed, and all the satisfaction you received quickly became irritation. You reached for your shorts and tried to get them back on, but Jack was quick to pull you back to his lap when you had them on. “Don’t even.”

“I’ve never done anything like this before. Like, literally.” He gestured to the bus, and you refused to meet his eyes. “But Marie is a gold digger, alright, and the only reason I haven’t broken up with her is because my label will freak if she decides to get back at me.”

“So, this is one and done?”

“I’ve wanted you since I saw you, I meant that. If you don’t want to do this again, then I respect it, but I want you, Y/N. Not her.”

You were quiet for a moment, and looked at Jack once you registered the sincerity of his words. “When can you break up with her?”

“When tour’s over.” He answered, rubbing your hip and trying not to kiss you as hard as he wanted to. “And you don’t have to worry about Neelam doing anything about us either.”

“I forgot about her.” You muttered, and Jack laughed under his breath before pushing his forehead against yours.

“Look, let’s just see where this goes, you know? We obviously have something special, right?” His words brought a smile to your face, and you nodded. “Yeah, exactly, pretty girl. So, how about me and you in your hotel room tomorrow at one? We can do whatever you want.”

“Alright.” you nodded, and Jack gave a tongue-in-cheek smile before he pulled you against his chest.

“Alright.”

#anon #jack harlow #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow smut #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic #i can't believe i wrote this lmao

[sakuraryomen01]

Cherry Picker.. /Devil! Sukuna x F!reader/

"Porno Style" 600 Follow Special [Additional Drabble]

⛤ Warnings: Devil! Sukuna, virgin! reader, popping your cherry (lmao), spanking, teasing, ass grabs, paraphilia, biting, marking as property, rough dicking down, clit pinching, thigh riding, size kink (Sukuna kinda gloats about size), stretching, cervix bruising, gentle fingering, oral (fem receiving), male masturbation, back-breaking orgasms, breeding kink, forced creampie, multiple rounds

⛤Reader: F! virgin! reader (reader is small breasted)

⛤Plot: Devil Sukuna wants to pop that little cherry between your thighs and claim it as his~

⛤Words: 3.904k

A/n: I've been thinking about this special for a while, but I never had anything ready for it so sorry this is a little later than it was hoped to be. Honestly, I loved my "sensitive to touch" Sukuna so I decided to make this the special ^^

~~~

Thank you for reading this bit! Enjoy the 600 Special!

You felt so stupid; why had you bought that book full of rituals to summon demons? What was wrong with you?

Well, when you had bought that book, you were thinking it could probably help you with your little virgin problem —and honestly, it did!

Managing to figure out the kanji for the summoning spell, write it out on your living room floor, and saying the ritual words weren't all that easy. And when it actually worked and sent you a demon, you didn't expect to fall head over fucking heels for it the moment you saw it.

He was drop dead gorgeous.

His hair was a cute shade of pink that was slicked back from his face to uncover a symbol —much like the ones from the book— with a black strip that ran across the bridge of his nose. Deep red eyes that made you feel small and useless, but also like an endearing snack waiting for him to feast upon.

You had even choked when you saw the tattoos that ran down his shoulders, chest, and abs. Even had some on his arms that ran from his shoulders to his wrists in black ink. He wore his rather normal looking clothes like he was a mob boss ready for a fight with a rival gang in the alleyways of Tokyo, like you saw in the news.

A thin silver chain hung from his neck that rested on a white button down that exposed his collarbone slightly, thanks to the two undone buttons on his chest. Even his pants hugged his thighs like they were going to shred into a bunch of pieces at any moment.

Right at that moment, you wondered if he could help your problem, and he could..

..but for a small price.

"I get to claim you as mine," The devil stated, like it was not a problem.

Gosh, he even sounds like a mob boss.

"Once I do your bidding for the day, I claim your soul and return to the underworld. I'll come back when I please and have my way with you; that's the deal."

"Like a boyfriend?" You asked, sitting on the living room floor with your feet underneath you.

Large black wings stretched behind him while his tail, similar in color, whipped around and curled around his ankle and he sat up and rested his weight on his knees and elbows. A wicked smirk played his plump lips as he answered your weak question.

"Yes, like a boyfriend, sweetheart."

Stealing a glance behind you, the devil smiled when his eyes landed on the book. "Summoning a devil to do your dirty work isn't easy, princess. I might even be willing to do more than just one simple favor."

"Oh, I don't want you to do anything bad!" You said, blinking a few times. "There's just a little thing I want taken care of that doesn't require someone's soul being eaten, or something."

The devil's head tilted, confusion written all over his beautiful face until he took a deep breath and smelled it. The aroused smell humans give off when they're in a lusted frenzy; but he doubted it was you that gave off this energy.

You looked so pure and hopeful, despite summoning a demon, without a care about such means.

"..What's your favor, little one?" He asked, he eyes narrowing as he did so. Standing up to look around your small apartment, he walked around like he owned the place with his hands held neatly behind his back.

"I was.. uhm," You started, heat creeping into your cheeks as you stood to sit on the couch.

How would you say it, something so vulgar and obscene? But, asking the devil to do this one thing would probably be the easiest part in this whole transition. Taking a deep breath, you put your hands on your knees and closed your eyes.

"I was wanting you to.. t-to make love.. with me."

Oh great heavens that was cheesy.

"Make love?" Turning his head, the demon quirked a brow at your words and chuckled. "You want a quick fuck? That's why I'm here?"

"D-Don't say it like that, but in simple terms, yes and no."

Nodding his head, the devil took a few steps towards you, releasing his hands from behind his rear and letting them slip into his pockets. Even the sway of his hips as he walked towards you made you heart flip, and it was embarrassing you to no end once he dipped his head down and fanned a cold breath to your ear.

"Does the little princess want her new demon daddy to make her feel good?"

The blatant words made your tummy curl in on itself; so lewd and brazen. But slowly, you nodded and the demon's smile only widened, his tail giving a little wag at this which you found rather adorable.

"Before we do this," The devil said as he stood up again, removing his hand from his pocket and holding it out for you to take it.

"I must know where your bedroom is, if you want to 'make love' as you say."

Taking his hand, you stood and realized just how much bigger he was than you. His chest even was huge, and it made you a small and flustered mess as you gently pulled him to your room in the back. Once you got inside the confined space, the devil sat himself on your bed for loud creaks to erupt from the mattress.

"Oh that's very interesting," He chuckled, laying back and spreading himself from the knee up on the bed. "Such a loud bed, I love it."

Blushing, you couldn't help but think his figure was otherworldly. Even with his shirt on, you could tell he was fit —hell, even his thighs could squeeze your face— almost like a God.

"Now, before we begin," He suddenly said, interrupting your thoughts. "I need to know if this has been done before, sexually."

"What do you mean?"

The devil sat up again, gently pulling you closer by your small hand and rested his hands on your hips. Tracing your delicate curves like you could shatter at any moment as he looked up at you.

"If you've had sex before, of course."

And even if you didn't answer him, he knew you haven't by the blush creeping onto your cheeks. He knew it even from the beginning that you were a virgin, though he denied your request to take your virginity since you seemed so innocent.

Guess he was wrong for once.

"Here, undo your pants and remove them," He ordered, though his voice was rather calm and made it sound like a suggestion.

You did as you were told and removed them, climbing into the bed next to the demon. "C-Can I know your name?"

An astonished look flashed over the man's face before it was wiped away with another smirk.

"I'm Sukuna Ryomen, princess."

Pressing your small figure into the mattress, the demon known as Sukuna, now hovered over you as he undid his shirt. More and more of his fit form was exposed before you could see his shoulders and torso that were covered in tattoos. You didn't even know a demon could look so handsome beyond the shirt, since they looked so nasty in horror movies, but you weren't about to complain.

"You don't have to be so scared, princess." Sukuna smiled, warm and gentle as he grabbed your hand and lifted it to his belt.

"You can touch me too, I'm in a good mood so I won't make you pay too much for my services."

Your heart skipped beats, your small fingers tracing over the male's belt before Sukuna began undoing it. With widened eyes, you watched as Sukuna's boxers came into view as his pants were tossed to your bedroom floor.

Sukuna lifted your small body up and sat you in his lap, your clothed pussy grinding into his thigh in moments as you held onto his shoulders. He chuckled at this, tracing the dip in your hips with his thumbs before a hand reached around and grabbed a handful of your ass. He let out a guttural groan before leaning into your neck and leaving kisses on your skin, each one as soft as the last until he gripped your hips and pressed you down.

The sudden shiver sent up your spine made your back arch into Sukuna's chest slightly as your thighs pressed around his.

"Oh? Did you like that?" He asked, making a small bite mark on your collarbone before kissing up again. "Go on, keep riding my thigh."

It's not like Sukuna could stop you as you did, it felt so good that you didn't know if you wanted to. Riding his thigh was hitting your clit perfectly and you couldn't help but let a few moans slip up.

"Fucking hell," Sukuna groaned again, grabbing your ass and squeezing. "Gotta get this shirt off of you, I want to suck on your tits."

"You're so lewd, Sukuna." You said as Sukuna's hands lifted your shirt and exposed your breasts.

And this is where you felt embarrassed to have small breasts. You hadn't ever really cared up until now, but having Sukuna's eyes on them made you feel self conscious. He traced his large hand over them easily, cupping the small bubble in his hand and bent down to kiss your nipple.

"Mm.." He let out a soft moan, licking his lips and letting them envelop your nub in his mouth.

"A-Agnn!!" You squealed, hands finding Sukuna's nape quickly as you shut your eyes and whimpered. "Wh-What're you-?"

"Sucking on them. What? Haven't played with these cute, little tits before either?"

Your flushed face and eyes teary answered his question quick.

"Here, stop grinding for a moment," Sukuna said, rolling the both of you over onto your back.

The new position left you breathless, seeing Sukuna's tinted cheeks and eyes that were coated in lust made your heart spin. But soon, your back was arching as Sukuna trailed kisses down your chest and towards your warm sex. It was embarrassing to feel how wet you had gotten from just a few kisses and grinding, but you couldn't help it.

Sukuna though, didn't seem to complain, but rather praised you.

"Such a dirty little girl you are, huh?" He teased, pulling your panties off and kissing your abdomen.

Making his way down your thighs and the outer parts of your nethers, Sukuna rubbed small circles into your thighs. Finally, with one final look up at you, Sukuna plunged into your pussy. Kissing and sucking on your leaking clit and letting your thighs press against his face as you squealed and moaned at his lips and tongue.

It was almost like you were in heaven, feeling things you've only seen in porno's that you'd watch on long nights. Even looking down at Sukuna to see his eyes trained on yours, it was like you were living every virgin's fantasy.

Having a hot man like him eating you like his final meal, making your pussy quiver with want and delving deeper, running a finger against your slit. Making a warmth fill your tummy and twitch like you never have in your life.

It was so new and it felt so good, you wanted more.

"M-More... please, I-I want more~" Your voice cooed, sending blood straight to the devil's cock and making him groan into your pussy.

"You want more?" He asked, playing dumb to tease you a little. Sukuna wanted nothing more than to hear you plead and beg for a release, to cum, to feel his cock inside you; anything.

Your quick nodding, followed by a rather loud moan, made Sukuna smile and stick his pointer and middle fingers into his mouth. Drooling on them and even sucking on them to lube them up as best as he could, only for you to see him do this and then feel them press against your hole.

"Want daddy to finger you?" He asked, pressing them farther until they pushed past your little barrier without warning.

His fingers dove into your soft walls, pumping roughly and forcing moan after moan until your clit twitched and you arched your back. Whimpering more pleas until you squirted all over Sukuna's face, a cry leaving you as your vision got fuzzy and your orgasm washed over you in a rush.

"That's it, feel good for me," Sukuna cooed, sucking on your clit and drinking all your cum like it was his favorite drink at a bar. "Gods, you taste so fucking good; you're so tight too, can't want to stuff you full of me."

This made you blush, tear up and whimper all in one go.

Imagining the power of Sukuna's thrusts and the girth in your mind made you all sorts of aroused, and Sukuna could tell. Hell, the look written on your face made him sure of it. You wanted a good dicking down by him, have his dick so far inside you didn't even know if you were numb or feeling it all.

"Spread your legs a little more," Sukuna's voice was gentle yet firm, spreading your legs and making himself situated before reaching down and hooking his thumbs underneath the waistband of his underwear.

He gave a gentle tug before his length sprung out and slapped his abdomen. Even his cock was pretty to look at, and you knew damn well that Sukuna knew how to use it.

"By the look on your face, you seem to enjoy it," Sukuna suddenly said, as if he had read your mind. "It's nice and long for you to feel it all and stretch you out real good."

As he spoke, he pulled his boxers down and began pumping himself with his hand. The wet sounds that were created as he did this only fueled the fire in your tummy and core, watching Sukuna's hand squeeze and fap to nothing but your scent and pussy alone. It was so pornographic to watch, you almost felt like an only-fan and blushed when a mewl escaped you.

"What? Don't like getting teased?" Sukuna asked, pressing his thumb against the small slit that was leaking pre. "I'll tease myself a little too, then, okay?"

You pressed your thighs against each other, covering your mouth with your hands like you were a little girl again. Eyes were glued to Sukuna's pumping fist, watching his abs tighten and dick twitch with every pump as he strokes grew faster and longer. When Sukuna pressed his forehead against your's though, you finally got a look at his face.

He looked winded, flustered, and all around a sexy mess. Sukuna's brows were knitted together and sweat was collecting in the roots of his hairline, even his tattoos looked like they shined.

"S-Sukuna.. I-" You could say anything, it was so good to watch, but you wanted to be Sukuna's hand so badly.

You wanted to be the one to squeeze and feel Sukuna's cock and to make him cum, not his hand. You didn't even know if he was going to stay after one round, but you wanted to make it worth the time spent.

"Wh-What?" He asked, eyes glued to your thighs and the little space between them. Watching your slick pool with lust, getting off to the arousal that was pouring into the bedsheets.

He wanted to see it full of cock— his cock —forever, being pumped full of his babies and making little half-demon spawn.

"Want me to pump you full? Make you my cute little human cock sleeve?" He asked, voice hoarse as his gaze turned to yours. "Is that it? Do you want daddy to fuck you and make your bed break?"

Oh my God- "M-Mhm.."

Without hesitation, Sukuna lifted you up and rolled over onto his back. Looking from below you now as you pressed your small hands to his chest and let out a little yelp. Sukuna chuckled and squeezed your soft hips, angling you to where your clit was rubbing against his cock's head and groaned.

"Fuck, I want to be inside you," The devil's eyes gleamed at those words, like he was praying for your pussy to wrap around him rather than just saying dirty things. "Bet that sweet pussy feels amazing; probably a little mini heaven just for me."

Reaching down, Sukuna grabbed himself by the base while making eye contact with you. Maintaining it when he pressed his mushroomed tip against your slick folds, pushing past the small barrier until you let out a small sob.

"Does it hurt?" Sukuna asked, stopping your body from slamming down onto him.

"M-Mhm.. it stings.." You whimpered, looking down past your breasts and to your connecting middles.

Sukuna pulled you down by your neck, pressing those amazingly soft lips to your own and humming. So warm and comforting that kiss was. It sent shivers down your spine and made your pussy clench on Sukuna's cock, a grunt leaving him when you did this and a feral grin created small dimples in his cheeks.

"You like getting kisses from me, huh?" He asked, nibbling on his lower lip and a groan leaving him. "Shit— gonna make daddy cum if you keep squeezing me like that, babygirl."

"I'm s-sorry, Sukuna.." You mewled, your lower half enveloping more and more of Sukuna's girth inch by painstaking inch. "Y-You're just so good at kissing, and your.. y-your part is- it's so big!"

Taking your chin in his hand, he pressed his thumb against your cheek while the rest of his fingers pressed against it's opposite, a loving smile leaving the demon before he let out an amused chuckle.

"Such an innocent little human you are~" He teased, releasing your face and joining his other hand at your thighs. Squeezing and kneading the soft, sensitive plumps of flesh.

"You're so drunk on me that your lust could overflow into my fucking soul. So desperate for a good fuck that you're practically sobbing for it. And what's worse? Not even saying thank you for giving you this cock when I could've left long ago. So rude of you!"

Without warning, Sukuna plunged you down on his cock. A sharp sensation shooting from your core to your brain, a yelp followed by a moan left you at the sudden drop. The full feeling in your gut making you sob as Sukuna said, looking down and seeing a little bump in your tummy.

"Would you look at that," Sukuna chuckled, seeing the bulge in your gut and smirking devilishly. "Take a guess what that is, sweetheart."

You shook your head, your lips tightly sealed while your eyes were shut tight. Mewls desperate to escape you as Sukuna pressed down on the bump and stroked it with his warm palm.

"That's my cock —my demonic corruption— inside that cute, little tummy of yours. It looks so good, I might want to make it bigger with my babies pumped inside of you."

Lifting up your body, Sukuna watched as his cock pummeled into your little hole with every thrust inside. Your small nether lips stretched to accommodate his large girth with a tight grip, slicking up the thick meat like it was drooling over the pain.

"S-Sukuna!" You gasp, brows knitting together in an upward angle as you bounced in Sukuna's lap. "I-I didn't know it felt so.. s-so good!"

"Goddamn, babygirl.." Sukuna growled, his firm hold on your hips sure to cause a bruise. Thrusting up into your sloppy cunt like it was his given right and groaned.

His cock-head kissed your womb with every slap of skin, your arousal pooling underneath you and onto Sukuna's pelvis as you rode the devil. Waton moans spilled from your throat after some coaxing and soon you were howling for more. More of Sukuna's cock, more of this warmth filling your gut, to cum.

You just wanted more of it.

"I'm gonna cum, S-Sukuna..!" You sobbed, your pussy clenching around the demon. Back arching until you looked down and saw something leaking from your connected nethers.

But before you could inspect further, Sukuna reached down and pressed a finger against your abused clit. Pinching the squirting bud and circling and pressing it like it was a T.V remote button. Squealing, your face heated up at the sudden sensation and grinded your hips down into Sukuna's palm.

"Go ahead —fuck, agh— cum on daddy's cock," Sukuna ordered, thrusting up into your warm mound again and forcing a whimper to leave you.

He enjoyed this. Watching your small human tits bounce, see your thighs clenching around his as you rode his cock like a slut. It was so fucking hot and lewd, he thought that he was blushing.

"C'mon, good girl," He teased. "Make a demon blush."

With that, you arch your back and let out a cry. Repeating Sukuna's name like it was a prayer to God himself as you rode out your high, coming down from it as Sukuna rolled you over and pressed you into the damp bed sheets and pillows. Feral kisses were shared as Sukuna began rolling his hips against yours, the sloppy sounds of Sukuna's cum mixing and swirling around in your pussy embarrassing you to no end.

"Such a tight little cunt," Sukuna groaned against your lips, eyes remaining closed as he hung his head over your shoulder to mutter more quiet dirty talk into your hot ear.

"Bet no one's going to make you feel like this, yeah? Even the devil himself would cry for a pussy like this, but it's mine now. Mine. Mine. Mine."

Crying into his shoulder, you mumbled and sobbed in agreement until you came again. Squeezing Sukuna like you wanted to be bred, and you didn't even know if that was you or the pleasure talking, but you begged for it.

Begged for Sukuna to claim you, mark you, make you his.

And Sukuna couldn't be a happier demon.

Watching your little pussy clench around him as juices leaked from around him. Pumping your red pussy full until you squirted again and again, Sukuna bellowing out a laugh.

"So fucking happy you summoned me," He blurted out, back arching as the knot in his gut tightened. "So glad I got the best pussy in the nine rings of fucking Hell!"

With a final load, Sukuna let out a roar as a broad smile took over his face and he laughed manically. Never have you seen a man laugh as he came, but you didn't care. You were too fucked out of your mind to care, seeing nothing but a hazy red glow look down at you.

Soon, Sukuna's soft lips enveloped yours and he rested his weight on you. Tapping your calves until you wrapped your legs around his waist and he panted. Kissing the marks on your neck and collarbone, resting his balled fists on either side of your head and letting you hold him.

He wasn't used to this sudden affection swelling in his chest, but he didn't care. He got to claim a virgin in his time in Hell, at least he thought.

Wait, I'm not in love. Is something he often asked himself as he visited...

And he was always wrong when he assumed no.

a/n: Hope you enjoyed you filthy readers! Sukuna being in love is just something that's going to be too often on here and Ik for damn sure that I have some readers that want some dark and taboo shit. If there's anything like that you want, just ask through my requests so that it's easier ^^

~~

taglist: (none :D)

Song~ Ayzha Nyree - "No Guidance" Remix // slowed + reverb

#sukuna jjk #jujutsu #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen #anime #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryoumen #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk angst #jjk imagines #jjk x you #sukuna ryomen x you #jjk sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #drabble #oneshot #reader insert #fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen x y/n #jujustu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen imagine

[clareguilty]

Gabriel Reyes/reader, a/b/o and The Works™

this is the third kinktober prompt for this year!!!

Gabriel Reyes/fem!reader | a/b/o, marking, biting, praise, all that jazz Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~3000

Jack Morrison was getting another medal.

It was everyone’s favorite joke at high command. It seemed like no one wanted to implement any serious policy or sign an actual resolution in favor of giving the golden boy of the Omnic Crisis another fancy award.

So Jack had been stressing himself out all week trying to write an acceptance speech that wasn’t passive aggressive, and you spent too long picking out a formal gown, and Gabe had sat on Reinhardt’s desk laughing and stuffing his face with carbs and fruit because his rut was due next week.

Jack took the teasing in stride and managed to come up with a speech that wouldn’t outright offend the Prime Minster of Russia. Everyone piled into the jet to Moscow with a garment bag and a carryon and a strong cup of coffee at four am the day before the banquet.

This was normal for you. In a world after the omnic crisis, head of Overwatch’s reparations department and mated to the commander of Blackwatch. You found yourself flown across the world dozens of times a year for negotiations and assemblies and ceremonies.

You and Gabe strapped in next to each other on the jet. “I haven’t seen the dress you picked out,” he nodded his head to the garment bag.

“I guess it will just be a surprise,” you purred.

He grinned and leaned in to kiss you.

“It’s too early for this,” Ana groaned from across the aisle. Gabe shot her a toothy smile and made sure to nip at the shell of your ear. You smacked his leg and shoved him back into his own seat.

The hotel was a beautiful historic waterfront building just across the bridge from the Kremlin in the heart of the city. The five of you piled out of the black SUV that had escorted you from the airstrip and made your way inside.

The hotel manager greeted you as well as an official from the Kremlin. Jack was the main recipient of ass kissing and pleasantries, so you simply smiled and nodded and shook hands wherever necessary.

The suite was entirely too big and fancy for a two night’s stay. You and Gabe poked around for a bit, but there were no fun secrets. You took the sitting room, and Gabe set up at the desk in the bedroom as you both buckled down on your work for the day. Gabe had operatives in Bolivia he needed to check in with, and you had a meeting with representatives in London.

He found you a few hours later slumped in the armchair with your head in your hands.

“They still being stubborn?” he asked.

“They won’t budge on anything,” you groaned.

“Change into something casual. Let’s go out for a little bit.” He was already in a hoodie and dark jeans, beanie sticking out of the back pocket.

You nodded and went to find a sweater.

Gabe’s impromptu date night in Moscow turned out to be a lot of fun. Ana and Reinhardt came to meet you at a bar for a little bit, and the two of you wandered around the city until sundown.

The next day was more meetings and frustration until you had to get ready for the banquet. You and Gabe slipped past each other in and out of the bathroom as you showered and shaved and styled your hair and perfumed and moisturized.

You shimmied into the dress half an hour before the car was due to pick you up. It was slim and black, sleeveless with one band that crossed over your collarbone and shoulder. You frowned when you realized it covered your matebite, but it wasn’t a big deal.

Gabe grinned salaciously as he zipped you up, unable to resist leaning down and nuzzling into your neck. “Cool it.” You shoved him off with a giggle. “I have to make it through a whole ceremony and dinner.”

He pulled on his jacket and the two of you made your way downstairs to wait for the car.

For some reason, the event coordinators split you into three cars. Jack rode by himself, you and Gabe in one car, and Ana and Reinhardt in the last. They looked intimidating in their dress uniforms, and you felt kind of ditzy in your sexy cocktail dress next to three enormous well decorated Overwatch officers.

The ceremony was only slightly dull, and you clapped at all the right spots and pinched Gabe when he looked like he was zoning out too much.

Dinner was much more enjoyable. You had been seated with people you knew from other events and assemblies, so conversation flowed well. A string ensemble played and a few people got up to dance or mingle once they cleared their plates. You caught sight of a British Parliament member speaking with a small group of tuxedoed men, and Gabe saw the determination in your eyes. 

“Go get him, sweetheart,” he kissed your cheek and pushed you towards the Lord. You excused yourself quickly and approached the older gentleman ready to push for your negotiations to take center stage in the Palace of Westminster.

The poor Lord was not expecting to be accosted by you at a banquet, but graciously listened as you explained your struggles in negotiating reparations in London.

“You’ve got some real fire in you,” one of the tuxedoes remarked as you shook the Lord’s hand and he scampered away sufficiently cowed. He had an American accent and shiny hair. He reeked of confidence and you knew it was a combination of his nationality and his status as an Alpha.

You cocked your head nonchalantly. “Takes a lot of persistence to get anything done in Parliament.” You knew he was probably referencing the fact that you, a tiny omega, had just approached a government official and demanded that he push for your cause, but you brushed it off. Most of the time people were respectful, but you still ran into pushback every now and then because of your status.

The American laughed, tossing his head back. “And wit to match!” A waiter came by with champagne and he snatched a glass to press into your hands. “What’s your name?” he asked, placing a hand on your back and guiding you back into the crowd of tuxes.

You tensed under his touch. This wasn’t your Alpha. It was extraordinarily rude to touch anyone without permission, especially an omega. But still, you had to be polite, so you introduced yourself.

“If you ever need any help getting through to politicians, you should give me a call. I’m on the UN Peace Council, you know? I was appointed during the crisis.” That information was probably supposed to impress you. It probably would have if you were anyone else.

You nodded politely, taking a tiny sip of champagne and glancing over your shoulder to look for Gabe. You had your own gripes with the UN peace council. Jack and Gabe butted heads with them nearly every other week.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you smiled, attempting to turn and address the other men.

“Here,” the American pulled out his phone. “Let me get your number. Maybe we could meet up for drinks before we both leave Moscow?”

“Oh,” you found your escape. “I left my phone back at my table.” You turned to make your way back to Gabe and Ana, but the UN asshole grabbed your arm. You knew exactly what this was. This guy probably didn’t run into many omegas in professional settings, and he thought you would just go along with everything he said because he was some big shot Alpha.

Laughable. You were a high ranking member of Overwatch. A diplomat. The mate of Gabriel Fucking Reyes.

“Just put your number in and I’ll text you,” he insisted. You struggled out of his grasp and shot him the sternest look you could manage.

He laughed again. “I love how feisty you are!”

Clearly, everyone in the vicinity was also uncomfortable with the exchange. This was not the time nor the place to be asserting dominance over an omega.

Your blood boiled. You didn’t want to make a scene at Jack’s reception -- though he probably would have loved it -- but you were seriously about to deck this guy.

“Cariña,” a familiar voice washed over you and the effect was immediate. You leaned back into Gabe’s chest, taking a deep breath to slow your heart rate. “Jack was looking for you. He wanted to introduce you to someone.”

The American Alpha puffed his chest out, clearly ready to challenge until he took one look at Gabe.

“Commander Reyes,” he greeted. All of the bravado and pushiness was gone in an instant.

“Hello.” Gabe was stiff, clearly trying to hold his tongue. His arms snaked around your waist and he leaned in to whisper in your ear. 

“Would you hate me if we left right now?”

“Absolutely not,” you spun in his embrace so you could look up at him. His expression was stoic as always, but you could see the tension and the anger in his eyes.

You didn’t even look back as Gabe walked you to the table to collect your things. It was a little rude to leave without saying goodbye to anyone, and you weren’t sure if Jack had actually wanted to introduce you to someone, but Gabe looked ready to tear someone’s head off.

He stopped caring about decency the moment the car door closed.

There wasn’t a lot of room to maneuver considering how enormous your mate was in the tiny sedan backseat, but he pinned you to the leather seats and kissed you like his life depended on it. You wound your fingers into his curls, gasping as his hands slid under your skirt and up your thighs. The driver coughed, and you giggled at the slow whir of the partition motor giving the two of you some privacy.

“I can’t believe he touched you,” Gabe snarled.

You shivered both at the possessive edge in his voice and the disgusting memory of the other Alpha’s hand on your arm.

“Make me forget about him,” you whispered, hooking your leg around his hips.

He rose to the challenge. Super soldier strength shredded your lace underwear, dress hiked up around your hips. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee, trailing up your thigh at a torturously slow pace. He had barely sucked a mark into the skin when the car stopped. A glance out the tinted window showed that you were back at the hotel.

“Thank you!” you called to the driver in your terrible russian accent as you yanked your dress back down and teetered on your heels on the pavement. Gabe half carried you with an arm around your waist as you breezed through the lobby to the elevator.

The elevator was another brief attempt to continue. You managed to get Gabe’s jacket and shirt open before the door slid open and you were staggering down the hall.

He dragged you into the bedroom, pinning you to the bed on your stomach so he could yank down the zipper on your dress. He couldn’t keep his lips away from your neck. The moment your matebite was uncovered he dragged his teeth over the mark. A shiver ran all the way down your spine.

“You’re never covering this up again,” he growled, rutting against your hips clumsily. “I want everyone to see that you belong to me.”

The words made your stomach flip. You wriggled your way around onto your back, pushing your dress over your hips and to the floor. “You’re going to hit your rut early.”

He didn’t seem fazed. “I’ll just fuck you until we have to leave for the flight.”

You figured Ana, Jack, and Reinhardt wouldn’t appreciate Gabe in the throes of his rut on the flight back to base tomorrow, but they had probably experienced it before. You could only imagine how bad he was back during the crisis. The thought only made you wetter.

He must have sense the spike in arousal, because he settled more of his weight on top of you. “What are you thinking about?” he demanded.

“You. During the crisis. Alpha Commander Gabriel Reyes.” You trailed a finger down his chest. “Were your ruts worse than they are now?”

He smirked. “They’ve gotten worse again since meeting you.”

You pulled him in for a kiss, mustering the last of your coordination to get Gabe undressed. He made sure you were laid out comfortably on the bed -- grabbing a few pillows to place under your hips and head -- before sinking all the way inside you to the swell of his knot.

Gabe always fit inside you so well. The perfect stretch. And he filled you so deep when he knotted you. You knew that his ruts could get intense, and you would probably be exhausted and sore by the end of it. Still, you had been mated for a few years now, so you had figured out how to manage.

“You feel so good.” You closed your eyes and lost yourself in the situation.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m going to knot you so good.” He rocked forward, teasing you with the stretch.

“Please,” you begged, nails scratching at the shaved hair at the back of his head.

He shuddered and set an impossible pace as he began to fuck you. Sometimes you forgot that you weren’t just mated to an Alpha, but to a super soldier. No one else could fuck you like he did.

“You want my knot? Want me to breed you full? Want me to remind you who you belong to?” His words were low against you skin as he kissed along your neck. One of his hands was rubbing your clit, the other holding your thighs open so he could reach deep inside you with every thrust.

“Yours,” you gasped. “I’m yours.”

His teeth found the unmarked skin of your neck, just above your collarbone -- opposite the side of where your matebite was. The skin was practically electrified, especially when Gabe was fucking you like this. He didn’t bite down, but the sensation alone was enough to have you coming on his cock.

“Fuck,” he growled. “That was so good for me, baby. You’re so perfect.”

“Do it,” you begged. “Bite me. Please.” It was a little unorthodox. Normally couples only exchanged one bite. A bite on both sides was usually the sign of a triad or a pack. But you had just been touched by another alpha and Gabe was fucking you so good and you wanted him in every way possible.

He blinked, trying to think through the haze of his rut. “You want that?” He didn’t even wait for you to respond. The thought alone had him spilling inside of you, and he pulled you onto his knot. His teeth found that same patch of sensitive, unmarked skin, and he bit down just as he locked inside of you.

Nothing felt better than coming to the sensation of being claimed. It was the strongest orgasm you had ever experienced.

“Fuck you’re perfect. My perfect little omega. You wear my marks so well. Everyone is going to know exactly who you belong too.”

You couldn’t respond. Too busy marking Gabe’s chest with hickeys and lovebites. He was too massive for you to reach his neck, but you would make do. You were still coming down off the intense rush of endorphins, and everything was a little fuzzy and felt just a little too good too much too fast. You had come twice in less than the span of a minute, and Gabe was only just getting started.

He soothed the aching bite, holding you close as you were locked together. His knot probably wouldn’t go down for a while, but he was less riled up than before now that he had satisfied himself somewhat.

“I love you,” he kissed the top of your head, rolling so you could lay on his chest.

“I-” You cut yourself off, blushed, and buried your face in his pecs. You would happily die there.

“Yes?” He was curious now. You weren’t usually shy with him.

“I’ve been working on something. It’s super embarrassing.” You didn’t look up.

He lifted your head, forcing you to meet his eyes. “What’s embarrassing? I just dragged you out of a dinner party at the Kremlin so I could fuck you. I think I’m the more embarrassing of the two fo us.”

You laughed and kissed his chest right above his heart. Mustering all of your courage, you found your voice:

“Te amo. Me encanta pertenecer a ti. Tú eres mi mayor alegría.”

Your accent was decent, but you had no clue if your grammar was correct. The words were unfamiliar and clumsy, even though you had practiced them a hundred times. Spanish was not a language you were familiar with, but you knew that Gabe had grown up hearing it. You wanted to try and learn for him.

He understood immediately what you were tying to say, and you could feel the rumble of his laughter beneath you.

“Don’t laugh at me!” you whined, smacking him lightly on the side.

“I’m sorry,” he grabbed your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles. “It was very sweet. I love you too.”

“I need a lot more practice,” you pouted.

He petted your hair, staring at you with a dopey, lovestruck expression. “I can’t believe you let me bite you again.”

You shrugged, feeling the pull and ache of the new mark in the motion. “We can let one of them fade.”

He smirked. “What if I like you like this?”

You bared your own teeth. “Can I return the favor?”

You weren’t expecting to rile him up, but the words were enough to make his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck,” he groaned. “You good to go again?”

You nodded, pushing up to a seat so you could ride him. He grabbed your hips, holding tightly as you slowly rocked against him. You knew the pace was probably no where near what he needed, but you wanted to take your time.

He didn’t give you the opportunity, rolling to pin you beneath him again and dragging your hips up to his. “You wanna bite me? You better earn it.”

#gabriel reyes #gabriel reyes x reader #gabriel reyes/reader #reaper/reader #reaper x reader #reaper #smut #lemons #kinktober 2021 #ow fanfic #Overwatch #overwatch fanfic #a/b/o #alpha/beta/omega au

[burnedbyshoto]

house sitting & concupiscence

— In which Endeavor asks Shouto for a favor, and Shouto decides to take his payment by fucking you on his bed. —

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, 18+ smut, dom!shouto, masturbation, toys (spreader bar, bondage, vibrator, collar, leash, gag, & fuck machine), master kink, spanking, temperature play, marking, pain, choking, torture punishment, overstimulation, voyeurism, slapping, oral (giving), hair pulling (receiving), semi-brat taming, anal (receiving), breeding kink

word count: 18,631

a/n: i know its long, but,,, please read LMAO. this took me a full ass week to write. im exhausted, im buzzing because idk how this went LMAOOOO, let me know what you think! please carefully read the warning, I will not be addressing anything about anal in my askbox (unless youre roasting me, which is understandable because lmao)

message to join tag list :)

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“Why are we going to your dad’s house?”

Tonight was supposed to be your date night with Shouto, and given that for the past two months, the two of you had been busy every day and night adjusting to being working adults, the two of you had been excited to go out. Next week would make two years, but it seemed the two of you would only be able to celebrate it during the dead of night. So, with a kind smile and a gentle kiss, you convinced Shouto that the two of you could celebrate the week prior. After all, it didn’t matter that it wasn’t quite two years; you both loved each other plenty enough to overlook the actual date.

Like for any celebration, you found yourself sitting in front of your vanity mirror as you applied your makeup. Your hair was done up in the most elegant style you could muster on your own, and you wore a simple yet gorgeous little black dress. Your head tilted in the mirror as you looked at your reflection. Your legs were shapely and smooth from the increased physical work you were doing, and the heels you paired with the outfit hung from your fingers.

You thought you looked hot, to say the least. What you didn’t expect was for Shouto to step into your shared room with his nostrils flared and eyes cold. Your eyes widened as you turned toward him, but the anger in his face disappeared immediately as he took you in.

His eyebrow quirked; a natural smile pressed into his face as his hands shoved into the pocket of his slacks.

“Don’t you look beautiful,” Shouto comments as he strolls up next to you. The steps were so casual, it was as if the two of you were strangers flirting in a bar, and not lovers two years into a serious relationship. “Who got you this outfit?”

Biting your lip, you chuckled, your arms wrapping around his neck, and you relaxed as he locked his around your waist. Your fingers rose to brush his short hair, the undercut was new, but it was a look you very much enjoyed on him.

Rising up onto your toes, you smile, seeing the way he leans towards you until your ruby painted lips brush against his earlobe.

“Your brother,” you tease, laughing loudly as he moves away, mock disgust and jealousy on his face.

“My brother? I’ll teach you to accept such pretty things from people who aren’t me,” Shouto warns as his fingers slip under the hem of the dress, eliciting a shout from you. He doesn’t seem to be deterred as his fingers hike the skirt of the dress further up until your cheeks turn red, and your protests are nothing but stutters.

“T-The reservations, Shoucchan,” you manage to get out as his lips press against your jugular vein.

“What about them?” Shouto mumbles against your skin as he backs you towards the bed.

“They’re s-soon,” you gasp as his teeth skim your skin, and his hands massage slowly against your ass. “We can’t miss it.”

Two months of hardly seeing each other also meant two months of not having sex or any sort of physical contact, and your actions exposed your need quickly. Your heels dropped with a loud clang, and you let Shouto do as he pleased.

To your dismay, however, the clatter of your heels on the floor caused Shouto’s ministrations to cease. Your eyes blinked as you focused back on him, your chest hammering and lust scorching your skin as you tried to concentrate on your boyfriend.

“Shouto?”

His eyes were once more consumed with the irritation and annoyance that had plagued him before you two interacting. Groaning loudly, you did not miss the way his eyes rolled before he focused back onto you.

“…we have to cancel the reservation.”

So, there you sit in the car, still dressed up with Shouto to your right driving, his hands clenching so tight around the wheel that his knuckles are white.

You sigh and tug his arm towards you. The way he attempts to jerk his arm away doesn’t escape you, but you still clutch his arm and lace your fingers with his. You place a soft kiss to the back of his hand and smile when you see him relax. It’s a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

“Are you going to answer my question, or are you going to leave me in the dark?” You ask again, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb.

Shouto sighs and looks over at you. His face is still set with annoyance, but his eyes brighten when he looks at you, and his lips quirk into the smallest of smiles.

“You’re annoying,” he says, and you scoff in protest. He smiles broader and brings your hand to his mouth and presses a gentle kiss to it.

Shifting in the leather seat to face him a bit better, you stretch towards him, your eyes wide with curiosity. “Answer my question, brat!”

Shouto sits there for a bit, gathering his emotions before he sighs, annoyed once again. “He asked Fuyumi-nee to take care of his house for tonight.”

Your eyebrows scrunch. You know that Fuyumi has a vital interview tomorrow for her job, and knowing the hero’s life, she would have to stay there late into the night. “Doesn’t she have the—?”

“Yeah, so she said no,” Shouto sighs, his hand in yours tightening. “Natsuo also has a lot of exams, and he and Endeavor aren’t on good terms still, so… that’s why he couldn’t take it. So, Endeavor called me and pulled a ‘you owe me a favor’ card from our second year. Didn’t fucking care that I had plans.”

“Why does he need someone to take care of his house?” You ask, trying to keep Shouto from hyper-fixating onto Endeavors’ ignorance detail. “He lives there alone?”

“He’s paranoid about some low-class villains going to his door when no one is there since his address was exposed,” Shouto rolls his eyes as the two of you pull into the driveway of Endeavors Residence. “Some fucking number one hero he is.”

“And he wanted Fuyumi to watch the house?!” You gasp, your eyes widening. Shouto nods his head as he unbuckles his seatbelt, and he’s out of the door before you could finish asking your question. You sigh and unbuckle your belt, knowing how infuriated Shouto is.

Your brush your hair out of your face, and the car door opened. You looked up with a small grin as Shouto offered you a hand.

“If I’m being forced to spend our anniversary here, I’m going to do it correctly, as if everything was going according to plan.”

Giggling, you let Shouto help you out of the car, and you couldn’t help but bring your exasperated boyfriend in for a gentle kiss. The kiss lasts less than a few seconds, but as you pull away, the irritability on Shouto’s face is gone as he smiles.

“I love you,” he says, closing the car door behind you.

“I love you too.” You smile like a lovestruck idiot as he begins to lead you to the front door. “We should have brought our costumes; surprise a few lowlives with our signatures.”

“Are you suggesting we let them rob Endeavor?” Shouto asks as he unlocks the front door.

“I just might be!” You laugh as you step in and remove your shoes.

It was currently five in the evening, and thus your date night commenced.

After two hours, you found yourself curled up on Shouto’s lap. You busied yourself with shoving popcorn in his mouth as you two watched Avatar the Last Airbender. The two of you had been watching it together since Shouto finally confessed that he had no idea why he was always compared to Prince Zuko.

Months of watching a few episodes every occasional night when you two had time lead you two to the finale now.

“I see the comparison now,” Shouto admitted with a mouthful of popcorn, and you hushed him again.

“Zuko may die!” You cried as on the screen, Zuko faced off with Azula, “He can lose, and you finally getting the comparison to the hottest man in the world is not a good excuse to distract me!”

“We can use fire, a scar, and a horrible father,” Shouto continues talking despite your attempts to quiet him as fire and lightning roared on the screen. “I was never the bad guy, was I?”

“You were a complete prick in the beginning, like Zuko,” you point out as you still focus entirely onto the T.V., “I mean, you did threaten to kill someone when we were fifteen. Talk about edgy! Plus, you didn’t want friends until Deku destroyed half of his body for you!”

“You’re an asshole,” Shouto huffs as he pushes you off of him, and you groan as you watch as he stands up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You call after him as you sit up onto your knees, you faced him as he walked out with his cellphone raised for you to see that he was getting a call from Endeavor.

Your mouth drops, and you nod as Shouto walks outside to talk with his dad. You settle back down onto the couch and grab the remote, pausing the show and sinking into the sofa. Your fingers brush against your dress as you wait for Shouto to come back.

It felt like an eternity before Shouto returned; the front door slamming behind him, causing you to wince. Shouto stormed over, his eyes blazing with fury, and he clenched a case in his hand as he glared in your direction. It would have been unsettling had you not known whom his anger was directed at. He stops a few strides away from you, clearly not in the mood to finish up the Avatar series.

“What happened, baby?” You ask, standing up. A soft scoff escapes his lips as he shakes his head.

“He thought I was here alone,” Shouto explains, his head low. “He makes me come take care of his house, knowing that I had plans tonight, then he expected me to be here alone?!”

Your eyes widen as a chill runs down your spine. Endeavor was not a people person, that was a given, and there was no saying whether or not he liked you being Shouto’s girlfriend, but for him to not like the idea of being here was a bit off-putting.

“Do you need me to leave?” you find yourself asking as you walked over to Shouto with short strides. You knew that their relationship, while it had vastly improved since three years ago, was still rocky. You wanted Shouto to be as comfortable around his dad as much as possible, even if it meant you stepping away when needed. “I can get—”

“No,” Shouto snaps, his nostrils flaring, a furious fire flashing in his eyes, and his lips curling into a wry smile. “You’re not leaving.”

“If Endeavor doesn’t want me—”

“Fuck what Endeavor wants,” Shouto growls as he lets you pull him into a soft embrace, but he’s tense and doesn’t melt into your touch like he usually does. “I want you, y/n, and he ruined our night. He doesn’t have the damn right to tell me what I can or can’t do when I’m happy.”

You nervously licked your lips as you stroked his back gently in hopes of derailing his palpable anger. There was just no use in having Shouto getting worked up about something that Endeavor wasn’t going to be able to change in the long run anyway.

“It’s okay,” you whisper as you pull away, your eyes trying to shine brightly as you press a gentle kiss to his mouth. “I won’t leave!”

There’s a harsh stream of air that escapes his nose, and he’s stiff against you, his lips unmoving, but he returned the kiss nonetheless.

“This is our night,” you whisper against his mouth as your lips press against his jawline and pepper slow kisses down his jaw. He seems to have an internal battle of remaining angry and caving to your touch. “You have a room here, it’s just us two, let’s have some fun! Come on, forget about Endeavor.”

As a hero, there were moments where you could feel impending danger or something on the horizon. Be it a sixth sense, or just fantastic gut feeling, but the moment those words left your mouth, they hit you in the gut. Pulling away, your eyes focus on Shouto, whose eyes are shut tight, and you watch as his jaw muscle flares before his eyes open.

Todoroki Shouto was no longer his younger self. While still prone to acting solely on his emotions, he was in control. The last time you had seen the pure rage in Shouto’s eyes was long before the two of you had been together, and something crawled down your spine as you attempted to speak, to understand what he was thinking about, and to stop whatever he was planning.

But then he let out a dark chuckle.

And you were too slow.

His mouth slams against yours, and your body goes back with the collision, but he doesn’t let you free. His kiss is hot, drowning, intoxicating, and full of burning energy that you didn’t realize he had in him. His free hand presses into your lower back, keeping you pressed against him as his mouth tries to get you to break. Your hands press against his shoulders in an attempt to slow him down, but it doesn’t seem to have the effect you were hoping for.

His hand leaves the bottom of your back to tangle into your hair, your resounding groan of both pain and pleasure resonates through you, and it clouds your judgment. Your hands — against your better sense — wrap around the back of his neck, drawing him in closer. His hot tongue swiped at your bottom lip immediately.

Not wanting to give in to his insistence, you purse your lips against his harsh kiss. He didn’t seem to agree with you. The hand that held the black case smacked against your ass, and you gasped at the stinging pain as the case rattled.

His tongue invades your mouth in an intense affair, and your mind spins at the way his tongue drops in temperature before warming up. It sends a pleasant and dull throb through your body, and you moan into his mouth. Were you really going to let Shouto fuck you in a house that wasn’t yours? The two of you had fucked in places that weren’t your house, but it was never a family home, much less his dad’s house, but his tongue curls to tease the roof of your mouth, and it sends an uncontrollable shudder down your spine.

Your cheeks glow with embarrassment, and your eyes are wide in shock. “Shouto’s really going for it,” you thought. His lips are scorching, but it’s his eyes that make your thighs tremble. His eyes are nearly glowing with lust and desire, there’s still that animosity in his eyes and a sense of arrogance that made you want nothing more than to retaliate.

“I hope you’re ready for what’s happening tonight,” Shouto smirks, and you pant trying to control your racing heart.

“You know I am,” you lie confidently, despite the tremor in your voice and the weakness in your knees.

His hand moves to your cheeks, and you feel a growing heat from his hand as he places yet another ardent kiss onto your slowly bruising lips. Shouto’s lips are magnetic against yours, continuously pulling you in, sucking you in until you were gasping for more. Then he would move to nibble on your senseless lips in your overwhelmed state.

Low and soft pants with intermixed gasps begin to leave your mouth as you try to calm down, this kiss was so unlike his typical embrace, but you fucking loved this dominant persona that he dons. Your arms wrap around his neck, drawing him nearer, eliminating the space between you so that nothing could dare to come between, but your hips have a mind of their own, and you feel yourself grinding your crotch against his.

A low and nearly angry hiss leaves his lips, and your breath hitches as his mouth leaves yours. In a fashion similar to yours earlier that day, his mouth presses multiple kisses against your jawline, but they’re sturdy, intense, and full of teeth. Your mouth drops as you let out a curled moan at the feeling of his teeth sinking into the skin below your jaw.

It wasn’t a typical love bite; this was marking. You could feel his intent to break your skin with the mark, and the heat between your legs flared as he took a step forward, and with that, you made a step back.

You’ve only been to this house a few times, and most of the time, you only come here for Fuyumi’s sake of keeping the family close. Awkward yet lively dinner conversations had led to Shouto showing you his childhood room that hadn’t been touched since he was fifteen. Sure, the two of you were nineteen, but a bedroom that hadn’t been touched in four years was something sinisterly haunting.

Shouto’s bedroom was the closest to the master bedroom — Endeavors room. That you knew because the grandest and most intricately beautiful door in this house belonged to Endeavors’ room.

Imagine the horror that sank in your when your lust hazed vision watched as Shouto’s childhood room passed you and your back hit a door.

“Shouto! This is—”

“I know,” Shouto growled against your burning neck. He had left enough bites on your neck to hurt, but the throbbing pain only added to the throbbing heat of your core. “You deserve to be fucked on a good bed, not my childhood one.”

“But Endeavor!” Pathetically you try to get him to move off you, but Shouto opens the door, and the two of you stumble in. “We can’t—!”

“Don’t worry,” he chuckles as he pulls away from your marked neck, “he won’t know.”

Your eyes widened as he lets you go, and you hesitated in moving towards the enormous bed before you. This was too much, you couldn’t let Shouto fuck you on his dad’s bed! That would be so disrespectful! Blatant and honest disrespect! Even if Shouto was in a “fuck his dad” mood, you couldn’t let this happen.

Turning to face your boyfriend, the release of him on your body, allowing you to think logically, you were ready to stay firm in your decision.

“What are you doing?” Shouto asks as he walks to the bed, placing the black box onto the bed with a quirked eyebrow. “Get on the bed.”

“N-No,” you wheeze out. Wow, go confident you! “We can’t fuck on Endeavors bed! T-That’s going too far! I… I can’t do that!”

Shouto blinked slowly, once, twice, and then returned his attention back to the case as he released the clasps.

“Don’t worry about it,” Shouto says as he lays out a few things from the box, and a nervous shiver goes down your spine as you see what he brought.

A collar, leash, vibrator wand, ball gag, a spreader bar with bondage cuffs, so much lube, and a fucking machine.

Your jaw drops as he lays them out neatly, his eyes turning back towards you, and there’s a silent moment where the two of you simply stare at each other.

“That’s going too far,” you squeak as you pull at the hem of your dress, the nerves hit you as he shifts to look at you directly. “I can’t… if Endeavor found out, he’s going to kill us!”

“Endeavor isn’t going to find out,” Shouto’s upper lip curled into a snarl as his eyes flashed dangerously. “We’ll wash the sheets, whatever the hell makes you convinced he won’t find out. But right now? I fucking need you the way I was planning on having you.”

His words fall almost alluringly in your ears, and goosebumps flash across your skin; butterflies fly in your stomach as you moan at the thought of what his intentions were for tonight. You chewed nervously on your bottom lip as you thought it over, trying to figure out what exactly you needed to do because there was no getting out of this. You were beyond horny now, but it didn’t take much to see the danger in doing this.

But no, you couldn’t do this!

“Shouto, let’s — oh my god!”

Shouto, while you were lost in your thoughts, had begun to strip off his shirt. His toned and scarred torso ridiculously defined in the lighting of the room, and he stared at you dead-on as he ran a hand through his falling locks. Your breathing turns into a frenzy as he walks over to you, his hands slipping into the pockets of his slacks until he’s centimeters before you.

Your eyes struggle not to scour your boyfriend’s body like some hormonal fangirl, you recited the Pro Hero Guidebook in your head as you fought off the urge to just jump him. Were pheromones a thing for humans? If they were, he was definitely putting you under some spell that was making you succumb to his own lusts.

“I know what I want,” he whispers as his lips brush against your sore neck, and a voluptuous moan resounds loudly from you. Your breasts rise and fall quickly as your hands press against his warm skin, and your eyes flutter closed as his lips press heavier against your skin. “I know what I need. I need you more than life itself, and I only want you, y/n.”

Not daring to open your eyes in fear of having this gone too soon, you feel yourself nodding.

“Fuck me right then…”

A chuckle deep in his throat reverberated against you, and then you felt his lips back on you.

Hot, fast, dangerous.

You struggled to keep up as Shouto tossed you up, and your legs automatically went to wrap around his waist.

Hunger, desire, need.

That was the way Shouto kissed you right now, his lips downright eager, yet it wasn’t the right word to use. You could feel his hard-on pressing against your ass as you drew him in closer. Hands pressed against his neck, clawing at the bare skin as you wanted more from him — you craved more from him.

It was when you pressed your chest into him that caused a small yelp of protest to escape your lips. In your impassioned drunkness, Shouto had been holding your ass firmly in his grip. His fingers digging into your soft flesh under the hem of your dress until he seemed to be sick of it.

The sound of ripping fabric echoed in your ears as you pulled away from Shouto’s luring mouth. The dress fell loose around your body as you watched as he pulled the remains of your dress from between the two of you. You slammed your hands against his chest in protest as Shouto took the destroyed material and tossed it onto the floor.

“It was in the way,” Shouto chuckles as he ignores your protests as he brings you back in for another kiss. “I’ll buy you a new one, I’m the one who bought it after all.”

Your eyes twitch as his fingers trace the lingerie that remained secured on your body; the anger you had vanished quickly the moment he brushed his thumb over your clothed nipple. Yes, there were apparent problems with knowing everything about your partner’s body, as in times like this, your anger flew out the window as his thumb and forefinger pinched your nipple.

You reacted with a shrill mewl as your hips automatically ground against his, and your head slammed against his shoulder. You felt his cold fingers press the bra down, and your mind nearly went blank as his calloused fingers made contact with your sensitive nipples.

“S-Shouto,” you stammer as you feel your neck blushing as his teeth nip at your earlobe, tingling pleasure scorching your body as he does it a few more times. Low and sultry moans escape your mouth as the heightening bliss of this interaction was getting to you.

“Fuck,” Shouto chuckled as he began moving towards the bed, and you tremble as the friction between your crotches increase. The pressure of his clothed cock sends your mind spinning against your barely covered core. “You’re so gorgeous, love.”

Panting in agreement, your hips bucked weakly against his as the pleasure of him biting your earlobe, his fingers pinching, pulling, and rolling your nipple, and the way his hips met your grinding hips.

Low and pounding heat grew in your stomach, and you whimpered as his hand groped your breast.

But then it was gone, and your body was tossed against a soft bed.

The coolness and freshness of the sheets once more sent a memory of whose bed this was. And the consequences for your actions.

“Shouto!” You squeaked as Shouto climbed onto the bed, his hands holding the lube as his eyes glanced at you.

Lust, amazement, love, and confusion.

“What is it?”

“This is Endeavors bed,” you find yourself repeating, although you were past the point of caring. It just came back up like word vomit.

“Fuck what he says,” Shouto snaps as he drops the lube. His eyebrows were scrunched together in his annoyance and anger, and you could see the muscles flaring in his jaw. There’s a cold laugh that leaves Shouto’s mouth as he grabs the spreader, and you feel your heart stop. “I don’t like it when you’re saying other trash names when I’m about to fuck you, princess.”

Your eyes widen as Shouto is by your feet with the spreader, his head down, and his hair falling to cover his dark eyes.

“I think you need to prove to me that you deserve to let me fuck you.”

Before you could ask, before you could question his actions, Shouto tore your panties from your hips and held them in his fingers. His eyes widening as he sees the soaked thin fabric between his fingers.

You sat up straight, trying to grab for your panties, embarrassed by how wet you had been even though practically nothing had happened. But Shouto was faster and far stronger. With a heavy hand, he shoved your shoulder back, and you fell back onto the mattress, and as you collected yourself, something tight wrapped around your ankles.

“SHOUTO!”

On your ankles sat the spreader bar, the black steel shining dangerously at you as you stared up at your boyfriend, who placed your panties into his slack pockets.

“You’ll get those back if you behave,” Shouto hums as he sat down. “Now, if you want my cock, you better make yourself cum.”

“I’m not masturbating,” you snap embarrassed as you felt exposed. Your legs were wide open, your slick essence already coating your inner thighs and the smell of your sex filling your nose as you tried in repetitive failure to close your legs.

“Fine,” Shouto says coolly as he stands up from the bed. “Have fun letting Endeavor see you like this. Cunt wet and exposed like a filthy fucking whore.”

You’re stunned into silence as you watch as he walks towards the door, his eyes unamused yet challenging as he places a hand on the knob.

“But you would like that, huh? You’d let other men fuck what’s mine? Is this what you wanted all along?”

Shouto lets out a dry laugh as he dares you to not do anything, but the pure stupidity behind his words makes you angry. It boils in your stomach as you lay down, your eye contact not breaking as you pull down the other bra cup. Then your fingers trail from your collarbone down to your breasts, teasing your pert nipples.

Electrifying pleasure rolls through you as you play with your breasts. Each tug, pull and turn making your knees slam together in an attempt to get friction to your cunt.

“Come on,” Shouto smirks as he rests at the foot of the bed. His arms are crossed against his chest, and he’s drinking you in. “Put your fingers where you want me.”

“I’m not putting my fingers up my ass,” you grin, your bottom lip captured between your teeth as another building pleasure slams through your body.

Shouto doesn’t say anything, his eyes only getting darker as you bring your fleshy mounds to your mouth and take a playful bite.

Eyes were powerful, and Shouto had some of the most intense eyes you’d ever known. So the way he gorged your figure as your hand flattened against your skin while trailing down your navel to where you were desperate for attention set your skin on fire.

Your legs trembled as the nail of your middle finger teased the middle of your lower lips, and you felt like you were choking at the way he zeroed in on your teasing fingers.

“Give me a show.”

Groaning at the way his words clung to you, your fingers pressed against your throbbing clit as your eye contact was broken by your head tossing back. You were so turned on that this gentle pressure felt overwhelming as you cried his name.

Your other hand dropping your breast and pressed against your inner thigh, your other fingers moving from your clit to your cunt.

In went one finger, the initial tightness making you sigh as you pumped your finger with no intent in mind. Then went in another finger and another. Your inner walls clenching around your intruding fingers, making you gasp at the velvety warmth of it all. Eyes fluttering open, you move your wrist, and your fingers move fluidly within you.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” Shouto groans as he watches your movements like a hawk, his eyes burning themselves into your exposed cunt.

But it made you feel so good.

With a single heave, your pumping fingers increased in their speed and intensity. Growing so much, your walls squeezed against your moving fingers. Your fingers pounded into your wet core, the sounds of the entering and exiting appendages, making you whine as your free hand pressed against your clit. Your hips bucked up against your moving fingers in an attempt to further increase this intense desire.

Your fingers continued to dance against your needy clit as you shook.

Hot fire slammed to your toes as they curled in your overwhelming pleasure. Your eyes clenching closed as you rubbed hard and fast circles into your desperate clit. Your back arching off the bed multiple times, almost ending with you falling onto your side due to the imbalance caused by the restraint bar.

Faster and hard, faster, and harder.

The squelching of your soaked pussy and pistoning fingers were heavy in your ear as you shrieked. Your legs were spasming, kicking, and your hips thrusting as your end was nearing fast. Shouto’s name continued to be cried from your mouth as you curled your fingers in you, and your fingers pinched your clit, and then an idea slams through you.

Use Endeavor’s name.

And as your orgasm crashed through you, a pitched scream sounded in the room as it all clashed within you.

His name was used.

Your body trembling as you lay on the bed, your fingers still knuckle deep within you as you pant. Your slick essence coats your hands as you manage to sit up, out of breath, and staring at Shouto in a challenging way as you removed your fingers from within you.

There’s a scoff, a sound almost similar to a snarl, and you watch as Shouto shakes his head.

“Aren’t you being a fucking slut.”

Blinking slowly, you heard his pants hit the ground when the belt clacked against the wooden floors. Then you saw that he was by your legs, his cock erect and pressing onto his stomach, the head already beading. Pre-cum dripped from his tip, and you feel victorious at the way he was so turned on.

But it seemed that the dress wasn’t the only thing being destroyed today.

His left hand held onto the fabric of your bra, and you watched in heated horror as he reduced the lingerie to ash.

“Shouto?! What the fu— mmph?!”

Shouto shoved your cum slick fingers in your mouth, and you mewled at the taste of your sweet essence on your fingers.

“Suck it all off,” he practically hissed as he moved your wrists, emulating a blowjob as you groaned against your fingers. “You don’t deserve to be fucked like a princess, do you?”

Your protests against your fingers were ignored as he pressed you against the bed, and you choked as your fingernail stabbed the back of your throat. But it didn’t matter to Shouto, no, not at all.

“If you want to be saying Endeavor’s — fucking scum’s name in bed, I’ll treat you no better than a fucking whore.”

There was a moment of silence as he watched you gag against your own fingers, his weight keeping you locked onto the mattress. But then it was over, and his hand grabbed the bar between your ankles, and he yanked it up.

Your teeth lock around your fingers in your surprise, but he lets go of your wrist, your eyes lock on his as your knees rest beside your chest, and you blink in confusion as he glares down at you.

“Hold it,” he commands as your hands move to hold the bar. It’s cold against your fingers, and the areas that are coated with your saliva make the bar slippery and wet.

“W-Why?” You hoarsely ask, your throat thick from the continuous stabbing of your finger. Typically when the bar was used, Shouto always held it.

“I told you you were going to be fucked like a whore, right? That makes you easy. I don’t need to work hard for someone who does this daily. But that means you should be good at this, so see that clock? In ten minutes, if you cum more than three times, you’ll get punished.”

Your mouth opens to respond to him, but Shouto presses his hands against the bottom of your thighs and, with accurate precision, thrusts wholly into you.

Your grip on the bar almost weakens entirely as his cock fills you completely, your words of protest become gasping pleas as the tip of his cock presses against your cervix, and you feel dizzy, your fluttering walls adjusting. His cock was thick, and it was lengthy; your inner walls ached against him as you adjusted, but regardless of how tight it felt, you could sense your essence spilling from you as Shouto sighed.

He shifted, and in a matter of seconds, you watched as his hips snapped backward before thrusting back into you.

The stretch of your legs makes you feel as if you weren’t breathing correctly. Each breath was short and raspy as you clung to the metal bar as Shouto repetitively slams his cock into your cunt.

“Shit, such a pretty cunt you have,” he rasps as your walls spam against him with his wild thrusts. He moves his hands further up your legs so that they press against your knees, pushing you into the mattress, increasing the angle of which he drills down into you.

Pathetically, your hips attempt to rise up in meet him, to increase this brutal force he was using as you crave even more. It was too much.

The sounds of his cock slamming into your sopping pussy created loud wet noises that you cried in embarrassment, but Shouto found it as an excuse to speed up. His rugged grunts are music to your ears as his cock hits your walls every time. The stretch he gives you was boggling, and you were progressively less cognitive aware as he drilled in harder. His slams were so hard that the sound of his thighs hitting your ass let out a continuous and loud slap.

His fingers gorge into your skin, and you cry his name like a hopeful prayer as he is fueled by your appraisal.

Your hands are weak against the bar, and it feels as if it’s slipping the moment he releases his right hand from your leg. You cry as the angle of penetration lessens, but his ramming continues at the same pace, and his fingers land on a puffy and sensitive bundle of nerves. The simple action set you enflame as you wailed his name, and Shouto bit your inner calf as his finger cooled dramatically against your clit.

The difference between your body that felt like it was on fire and the bitter ice of his fingers made your body spasm uncontrollably. The bar was being pulled in by your forearms as exploding pleasure slams through every vein in your body. But your thrashing and wailing do not stop Shouto, nor do they lessen the pace and the force he’s settled in as the bed begins to sway with every powerful thrust.

“I needa— holy shit, r-right there!”

“What? Do you need to come already?” Shouto mocks against your calve, and you whimper as he bites it again.

Your eyes can no longer stay open as the only noises leaving your mouth are whines and begs for more. You forcibly clench around him in an attempt to stir a reaction from him, but all he does is curse loudly as he continues his rutting force. The pounding is rhythmic. The feeling of Shouto’s cock entering and leaving you draws your eyes to the back of your head as you whimper his name, his thighs hitting your ass at bruising force, only adding to your pleasure. His finger getting colder by the second as it simmers against your burning clit. Your heart hammering in your ears as you heard Shouto snap at you.

“Cum.”

The orgasm that had been surging within you crashed through you in a fiery white heat as your jaw slacks in a silent scream. Your body convulses against your hold and his, but Shouto doesn’t stop, not even when your toes curl, not even when you sob.

“Shouto!”

He pulled out then, his pants heavy in your ear, and something ripped through you as the weirdest sensation floods through you. Your cunt throbs uncharacteristically harder as you softly sob Shouto’s name.

You had squirted.

It was all over the comforter; there was even some on Shouto’s lower abs that shone in a mixture of sweat and you.

Your head slams back into the mattress as you can feel your heartbeat in your cunt, your chest heaving at the experience you just had. You’ve never squirted before, and your body felt like it was short-circuiting as you remained on your back.

“Look at that,” Shouto mused as he unfastened the restraints on your ankles, and your thighs crashed together, an inevitable soreness throbbing within as you lay speechless. That had winded you. “For someone not wanting to make a scene on his bed, you just wet a whole portion to it. I don’t think you even care if he finds out I fucked you on his bed, y/n. A little whore like you, you probably want the entire neighborhood to know.”

“I don’t,” you gasp as you struggle to find your breath still, and Shouto hums as he turns you over onto your stomach.

You’re not sure if it was a forcible push or something gentle. All you know is that your body burned where he touched you, and your thighs ached as you settled on your stomach.

“How the fuck am I supposed to fuck you like that?” Shouto snaps at you, and your eyes widen as you shift your head to look at Shouto’s whose cock is still erect, and you realize in a dawning horror that you had come twice now, and he had not.

Then there was the challenge, he only had to make you come three more times to do whatever insidious things he had planned. Your fingers fisted in the sheets as you groaned loudly. His body heat radiated onto you, and you rub your thighs together at the thought of Shouto gripping your ass as he drilled into you from behind.

You needed to get him to do that, but to make sure you didn’t come.

“I don’t want to,” you stall, hoping that in moments like these, it would help in your favor.

“Let go of the sheets,” Shouto ignores you as he gives a pointed look at your hands that clutched the sheets.

“Nope.”

The heat he provided was suddenly gone, and your eyes widened as a closet door creaks open. You watch as Shouto stands by a closet, a hand on his hip as he studies the closet before him, and you let out a strangled noise as you can already taste what he’s getting out.

“Shouto, do not!”

“Don’t what?” Shouto asks as he pulls out four brightly colored ties that Endeavor owned. “They’ll get cleaned up and put away, I mean look at the mess you already made, this shouldn’t concern you.”

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment as you look at the stained sheets below you, and you sit on your knees as you cross your arms.

“Using Endeavors clothes as bondage is going too far!”

Shouto looked at you, his eyes annoyed, angry, and uncaring, then he shrugs. He takes a few strides, and he’s back on the bed.

“He should have thought of that before being a dick.”

There was no time to react as Shouto grabbed your wrists in his hand and tugged you towards him. Before you could attempt to pull back, to resist ruining more of Endeavors’ personal belongings, the tie is properly looped around your arms, and you’re locked in place.

“Now on your hands and knees like a good slut,” Shouto directs running a hand through his sweaty locks while rising to his knees. The tie is almost uncomfortable with how tight it is, and you remain stagnant, staring at your boyfriend, who was insistently becoming more of a dom than you had ever seen him as. But with your lack of action, his expression sours, and he grasps your cheeks in his hand. “Are you fucking deaf?

You gasp loudly when Shouto’s hand brings your face to the mattress, your back curved, arms pressed into your breasts.

“I thought whores had better form than this,” Shouto sneers while pressing a heavy hand against the center of your spine. You adjusted immediately under his force, your back arching with your pert ass in the air. “Much better.”

The mattress pressed against your chest in a suffocating way, your heart hammering as you realized what was to come.

“Shouto, please,” your voice pleads again; his hands roam your ass and hips, whispering nasty sweet things to you while the tip of his cock presses against your still wet cunt. “Don’t make a mess of me, not on Endeavors bed.”

There was a moment of silence while his hands disappeared from your skin. Licking your lips, you turned your head to see what exactly his expression was. But you were too late.

He slammed his right hand against your ass cheek, causing you to shriek while your skin throbbed in his wake. The pain made your legs buckle, a hot pressure reigniting in your core, and another loud slap repeated on your opposite cheek.

Fisting in your hair, you yelped loudly when Shouto yanked your head back. The arch in your back was dramatized by this action; your back ached as another heavy slap echoed against your troubled skin. His dense, almost wild breathing hits the shell of your ear, and chills shoot down your spine when he snarls.

“Who the fuck matters to you right now?” He hisses in your ear. “Is it Endeavor fucking you on this bed right now? No—” his hand comes down against your ass with every word, ignoring your growing sobs— “I’m the one fucking you. The only man’s name you should be uttering is mine. Do. You. Understand?”

The next spank that comes across your ass nearly sends you tumbling over at the strength and power behind it. Your arms buckle under you, the weight and struggle to keep yourself upright was a challenge as Shouto abused your ass.

“Answer me, whore.”

There was no stopping Shouto’s heavy hand against your pert ass, and you could not think of anything but how your cunt throbbed for the man behind you. Your sobs of pain had long ago become those of pleasure, and you could feel the raised prints of his hands on your sore cheeks. It delighted you.

“Y-Yes, sir!” You pant, your body trembling in your excitement and need for more.

“You like this, don’t you,” he sneers while he rubs circles against your heated skin. “You’re trembling with excitement as you try telling me you don’t want me to fuck you here. Do you want me to leave you here? With no clothes, no way back home? Count the number of times I spank you, I want to hear you counting and thanking me every time.”

Slap.

“One. T-Thank you, sir.”

Your words were barely above a whisper, just enough for Shouto to hear you thank him as you trembled like a leaf before him. His upper lip pulled back into a sneer as he let go of your hair, throwing your head into the mattress, and his fingers go and pinch your nether lips, and you cried loudly.

“I know you can fucking scream louder than that, don’t make me ask again. From the top.”

The words were like honey to your ear, and you shifted in an attempt to ease the growing lust between your legs.

Slap.

“One! Thank you, s-sir!”

Your mind reeled as Shouto continued his conquest against your ass. You could barely remember the number you were on by the time he was done with you, the added sensation of his alternating heated and chilled hands increasing the desire in you to find you as you were now. Ass bright red and in the air, back arched further than you had ever gone, and saliva and tears seeping onto your bond arms.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he observes as two of his fingers slide against your wet slit, and your ragged moans fill the area at the need of more. He continued petting you, and while feeling finally returned to your abused ass, your hips began to buck against his wandering hands, trying to get them to slip between the folds. “Such a greedy little slut.”

His chuckle is barely heard by you, for as he said that, he pressed the head of his cock into your cunt. A sharp whine slams from your throat as the emptiness of this action makes you crave more. You shift your ass back, the action full of temporary regret as soring pain flashes through your lower body. He did not hold back.

Gritting your teeth, you continued pushing against him, craving more.

“Is this not good enough for you?” Shouto chuckles, but there’s no light humor to his laughter. “Good.”

At that phrase, Shouto slams into you at full force again, causing you to bite down hard against your saliva-coated and bound arms as you feel his cock twitch within you. Your breathing is harsh as you focus on the nightstand and see the clock. It’s felt like an eternity, but only three minutes had passed since the bet was made. If you won, you’d move this fuck feast into his bedroom.

“Seven minutes,” you choke against your skin, not wanting to show how turned on you were.

The instant you were done chiding him, you regretted telling Shouto the amount of time he had left. The bed shifted by your knees, and you could only imagine what was happening as you could feel his cock moving out of you and slamming back into you.

The angle and power behind these thrusts were different than what you were used to from the standard doggy style. With each hypnotizing slam of his hips, shrill moans of pleasures ripped from your throat, and you preened your head to look at Shouto.

Sure enough, Shouto was positioned on his feet, his knees bent as he dropped into your awaiting cunt with such savagery your eyes rolled back watching him. Sweat dripped down his neck, his hands gripping your bruised and battered ass like some type of life support, and the squelching noises of your slamming sex were making your body weak.

“That feels so — fuck — do that!”

“Who—” slap— “Are—” slap— “You—” slap— “Addressing?!” Slap!

“Y-You, sir!” You scream, your hips buck against his slamming hips. It was so raw, so rough, and you were enjoying every passing second.

Shouto chuckles at your praise, all while he continues to fuck you roughly. He was in a zone, his concentration like steel as he pounded into you again and again. Your inner walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating cock, and the heated pressure had built up all over again.

His cock twitched within you, it knocked the breath out of you; his fingers twisted into your hair.

“Fucking cum with me,” he demands, jerking your head back towards him again, and you sob as your legs tremble against his increasing power.

You feel your eyes cross, screaming out his name as your walls clamp down fiercely against his length. Shouto curses loudly, pulling out of you while your cum drips from your folds. But a hot and sticky substance hits the curve of your ass while Shouto lets out a string of curses, and you moan knowing that he came on you.

“That was two,” Shouto reminds you as you groan into the sheets.

“That was two,” you mock hoarsely, but you’re unable to move, your body locked in the way he had fucked you.

“Look,” Shouto says, ignoring your disrespect, for you can hear the prideful smirk on his tone as he forces you onto your side. “You made another mess.”

“You’re cleaning up Endeavors bed when we’re done,” you whimper, making no attempt to sit up, your body screaming in pain when you lay still.

“You really can’t seem to get his name out of your fucking mouth, can you?” Shouto barks while he moves to sit against the headboard. “What do I have to do to get you to fucking forget him? Choke you until you pass out? Break that pretty little mind and pussy of yours?”

There is no time to argue, Shouto grabs your legs and drags you over to him, your sensitive ass burning against the cum soaked comforter until you were at his side. Your pained breaths still as Shouto glares down at you, his left hand undoing the saliva-coated tie around your wrists, leaving the fabric slightly burnt while he tosses it to the side. Your arms throb as blood rushes back through it.

But before you could relish the feeling of your arms back, Shouto has his chest pressed against your back, and his right hand angling his once again hardening cock upwards.

“Since I mean nothing to you, make yourself cum.”

With that, he dropped your aching pussy onto his dick.

The feeling of his cock wholly sheathed within you, mercilessly slamming against the wall of your cervix and staying pressed tightly there. The delirious sensation made your head crash back against his shoulder, and your legs kicked out in response. Loud and low moans reverberated from your lips while adjusting to him buried within you again.

Your mind reeled while you adjusted, and Shouto angled his knees up, his scorching and robust grip moving your legs outside of his, causing your hips to spread against him.

“I told you to move,” he snaps, his fingers twisting your sensitive nipple harshly, your resulting wail muffled by you burying your face into his neck. “I didn’t pay for you to sit there.”

Puffs of air escaped your mouth quickly, and your feet shakily pressed into the mattress. You needed to move for him. But you were too slow, and a sharp and icy cold slap hit your clit.

Your body impulsively arched forward, your body rising up from his cock before you collapsed back down. But the sensation of his cock hitting your cervix made you shudder.

“Faster.”

So you began to rise and fall against his length, his hot breathing fanning against your sweat-soaked skin made your body shudder against his. His fingers found a place on your hips to hold, and you moaned at his bruising grip.

Your thighs burned with every bounce of your body, your head lolling to the side, stammering Shouto’s name as your walls clenched and squeezed against his hard cock. You wanted more of him. You needed more of him. Choked out screams rung from your throat as your hand gripped onto his knees, your body trying to support the numb ache that was shooting through your body.

“Shouto,” you puff, his fingers digging into your flesh, making you gasp.

“Why don’t you follow fucking instructions,” Shouto gnashes his teeth, and his left-hand moves from your hip to your clit. A jolt of massive arousal shoots through your body, a warm presence pressing into you as he teases your clit, causing you to roll your hips against his. But it grows hot, hotter, and hotter. It’s too hot, and his movements are painful yet disgustingly pleasurable. Pained and animalistic sobs pouring from your mouth while he deliberately abuses your throat. “What are you supposed to call me?!”

“S-Sir!” You weep, slamming your hips back down against his in pathetic attempt to lose his hold against your puffy nerve. “I’m supposed to c-call you, sir!!”

“Then why haven’t you been?!” Before you could attempt to respond, Shouto’s right-hand leaves your hip and slams to your throat, choking the response from you. “I don’t want to hear your answer.”

His hand remains heavy and tight around your throat, his hold barely allowing oxygen to travel through to your lungs. Your vision fuzzed, and you could feel your heartbeat in your head, but your core shook with Shouto’s now reciprocating and rhythmic slams.

Choking, clit stimulation, his cock pounding into your cervix, his fingers hotter than coal, and Shouto chuckled into your skin. His thrusting hips were becoming more precise, angling into you in a way that made you audibly choke when you needed to gasp. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen to your body that was making you delirious, or perhaps it was the fact that he was slamming into you with the strength of rearranging your guts, but your hips began to swivel at an inhumane pace. Your cunt held a vice grip around his cock, yet it did nothing to slow Shouto down, but the growing heated pit in your lower belly was making your legs tremble against his. Still, you tried to keep up with his rough and cruel pace, and Shouto enjoyed knowing that detail.

“Such a fucking tramp, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He sneers, his teeth biting down against the curve of your shoulder. “You enjoy being choked?”

Your head nods, “Y-Yes, sir!”

“Do you need to cum?” There was no reason for Shouto to ask that; the answer was obvious enough. “Good.”

If you thought Shouto was rough, as soon as that word rolled off his tongue, he only got worse.

His hand against your throat tightened, and black dots littered your vision; the coldness of his ice burned against your skin. His teeth sunk far into your skin, enough for you to feel your skin breaking as his tongue moving in cold and heated strokes to calm your now irritated skin. Then there were his nimble fingers running against your clit, and entering your cunt between your spastic walls and his hammering and throbbing cock. But your bouncing held no value anymore, Shouto’s hips snapped upwards fast enough and powerful enough to overcome and overwhelm you. The only thing you could tell was that along with the tip of his cock hitting your bruised walls, the sounds of your sopping wet pussy crashing against his forceful hips rang in your ears in a primal yet excited fashion.

Despite his hold on your neck, nothing was holding back the scream that left your mouth as you orgasmed.

White stars filled your vision as Shouto ripped his cock from you, and that same sensation of peeing bewildered you as he held your body up. You had squirted again, but your ragged and shallow breathing had only increased, and there was something warm and wet painted on your back.

“That was three,” Shouto whispers into your ear, his teeth tugging at your earlobe, and you shuddered. “I should get extra points for making you squirt.”

To that, all you could muster was an embarrassing moan as your dazed eyes focused on yet another wet stain on the bed. Three minutes left, that’s how much you had to endure to win.

Three more minutes.

Unfortunately for you, Shouto was well aware of this, so he wasted no time.

Once again, he shoved you to the side. Your body crumpling onto the mattress, aching and sharp pains flooding your body as you lay there. Your clit throbbed in time with your heartbeat, and your inner thighs were coated entirely with your cum — both new and old. Maybe your body would be incapable of cumming at this point now? You sure hoped so… or not.

“Up,” Shouto commanded but gave you no autonomy since he grabbed your hair by the roots and tugged you onto your knees. You whimper in your throat at the stabbing pain settling in your lower body, you were still recovering from him rearranging your guts. But you caught sight of the cum he had released onto your back pressed all over the covers, and your breathing stopped.

“Shou— ack!!”

A collar locked around your throat, and you wheezed loudly; you hadn’t managed to catch your breath still. Your body swayed forward into his hold as your head spun due to the lack of oxygen, but Shouto seized you his eyes wide and worried as he stared at you.

“Shit, baby, are you okay?”

You nodded your head, oxygen slowly spreading back into your body.

“Sorry,” you hoarse, pushing away, your face burning with embarrassment. “You just surprised me.”

Shouto seemed unconvinced as his hands held onto your cheeks, his fingers stroking your sweat plastered hair out of the way, tracing your bruised lips and against the marks and bites on your exposed skin. The delicate touches are long forgotten on your skin, your lips sighing while he sends warm pulses from his fingers to the aches of your joints.

“You sure?”

Rolling your eyes, you shoved Shouto away, “I’m fine! You just made me spread your cum on Endeavor’s bed!”

Just like that, your loving boyfriend died, and the man who had been fucking you this entire day was back. His hands locked back to where the collar was, and your eyes nearly boggled out of your sockets when he tightened it more until it burned to breathe. But you remained calmed as a black leash appeared from seemingly nowhere and attached to the collar.

“Since you liked being choked so much, I might as well give you what you want without straining me.”

Your eyes widened, your ability to talk back removed.

“Now, ride my cock again,” he grins with the slightest hint sadistic, and as you move to do as instructed, he yanks at the leash. Falling onto your hands, your eyes widen while you stare at Shouto, who merely raises a cocky brow at you. “You have two minutes to make yourself cum.”

“I’m not going to,” you strain, the choking of the collar and the simple manipulation of your body already making that all too familiar heat spread upon your loins.

“You don’t have a choice,” Shouto mocks, his hand moving to grasp the leash centimeters from the collar and yanks your face close to his. But the movement is sharp and rough, the collar strangling you. You scramble on your hands and knees to get closer, stopping when his lips ghost over yours. “And you won’t have one until you’re begging me to fuck you into a puddle, not until you’re nothing more than my cum slut, and until you no longer care about dirtying Endeavors bed.”

The words are fire on your skin, and bubbling lust grows in you again.

There’s nothing to say except give a doe-eyed nod, but Shouto appreciates this submission as his lips take yours. They’re hungry, possessive, and ardent, moving against your mouth with fervent intention. Your mind slips when you straddle him, your soaked core brushing against his tip, and Shouto guides you back down onto his cock.

Your abused pussy had been through a lot, and a loud hiss passes through your teeth as you sunk all the way on him. Your teeth biting onto Shouto’s lip to control the pain-filled pleasure that corroded your body at the moment. It still felt so crazed, the sensation of your heartbeat in your inner walls shifting and hugging Shouto’s still throbbing head,

But the slowness is gone when Shouto pulls away. His hands on the leash as he yanks the cord up and back down.

“Follow my actions, “ Shouto warns, and you weakly nod.

His hand moves the leash back and forward, and the soreness of your cunt bleeds into your actions as you imitate him. Your rolling hips are slow, your hands pressing against his shoulders as you roll your hips against him. There’s a dark mutter from Shouto’s mouth when you lock eyes with him, and his nostrils flare. His hand suddenly grabs onto your waist, making you freeze in your decent back down onto his cock, but he beats you too it, for his cock rams into your dripping cunt. A shriek ripping from your throat as he pounds into you. Your fingers digging into his shoulders to hold onto for support.

“SHOUTO!” You shriek as he ruthlessly slams into you. His hips coming up so fast your body bounces with every thrust. Your moans tumble out in chokes, your face turning red as oxygen fails to fill your lungs. The thrusting is intense, and your hands on his shoulder are more of a lifeline; the bed is quick to move with your movements, the considerable bed groaning under the harsh actions. Its squeaks and tremors are loud in your ear alongside his insistent pounding.

“What’s that, whore?” He growls, his hips hammering into you at mind fogging speed. The leash on the collar being yanked to pull you closer; your bare and sweat-slick skin pressed against his. “What’s my fucking name?!”

“Sir!” you shriek as your pussy throbs around his pounding cock. You’re unable to even twirl your hips in rhythm with him. You were stuck to the lap, only able to feel his cock entering you at toe-curling speeds. “Oh my god, FUCK, please— I —shit!”

Words failed you miserably as Shouto’s hot and sweet tongue drags against your collarbone, his teeth burying into your primed skin as your eyes roll back.

Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm. One more minute.

“You take my cock so well,” Shouto grunts as he releases one hand from your waist and runs it down your navel to press against your clit. Your head throws back, your back arching further into his chest as you scream again. Your pussy clenching with no remorse around his cock. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Do you want to come now, slut?”

You can only shake your head, you didn’t want to cum; the pressure continues to build and build.

“I need to hear your words.”

“I don’t need to cum,” you sob out as your body trembles under his thrusting, you’re so close you see stars. “I don’t need to — sir, please, I can — oH SHIT!!!”

Shouto growls as his hand wraps around the leash, wrapping it around your bruised neck as he tightens the chokehold on you. You’re being strangled, and the air feels like its burning as it goes down your tightened passage, but your cunt throbs in excitement when he presses his mouth to your ear, “I don’t give a shit if you don’t need to cum, you’ll do it regardless.” Your mouth dropped open, your eyes crossing, and a loud whine emitted from you when his hand moved to pinch your nipple, and his mouth found a place on your sensitive nipple.

That’s all it takes, and you come hard around his dick, his name ripping through your abused body as he groans. His tongue lashes against your nipple, his teeth tugging at the pebbled skin all while he continues pummeling into you. Chasing after his own orgasm now.

You pant harshly, moving your hips against his own. Your pussy still twitching around his throbbing dick. You hear him expel a wavering sigh, and you can feel him come within you. The heated fluid fills you up, and he lets go of your sore breast; he collapses onto the bed with you landing on his chest.

“You lost,” he whispers after a moment of silence. Your breath picked up in a panic, you were fucked. “On your knees.”

You groan loudly when Shouto sits up, lifting you up with him, and you can feel the intermingled cum dripping out of you, falling onto your thighs. Your eyes flutter when Shouto kneels before you, his face victorious and poised as he undoes the collar against your throat. Although you took a full breath of air with every, inhale, your breathing is finicky as you’re terrified of what’s to come. You’re silent while watching Shouto make his way make to the no longer neat line of sex toys.

He grabs two things: the vibrator, spreader bar, and four of Endeavors’ ties.

Shouto rises to his feet as he walks back towards you, and while you hated doing this on Endeavors — now filthy — bed, your mouth opened.

“Close your mouth, whore,” Shouto chides, his arms above his head tying the colored fabric to the fan blades above the bed.

“What are you—?!”

“You care too much about making a mess for some selfish pig,” Shouto shrugs, he falls into a squat after securing the ties to the fan. There’s a dark and almost amused glint in his eyes when he stares at you. “Now, I’ll give you a reason to worry.”

Before you could protest, pull away, or scramble from the center of the bed, Shouto grabs your right hand and secures the tie around it.

“Shouto!” You panic when he succeeds in capturing both your wrists. Breathing sharply, you looked up at the flimsy blades that curved under the weight of your arms. If you moved to harshly, if you struggled against this punishment or collapsed too early, it would break. Oh, no… snapping your head behind you to where your boyfriend was relocking your ankles into the spreader bar. “Please, baby, I can’t do this!”

Shouto ignores you, and cold sweat runs through you at what’s to come, you wouldn’t be able to resist bringing your elbows down if the vibrator was pressed into your clit. How were you supposed to not wholly destroy Endeavors’ property?!

“S-Sir, think this through!” You begin to word vomit in your desperation while Shouto presses the vibrator against your right thigh, the smooth head holds against your clit, and he uses two more ties to secure it into place. “The bed is already a-a mess, I squirted! Twice! You came two times on the bed! Not to mention my saliva and the cum that’s dripping out of me! I can’t — we can’t break his fan!”

Shouto is unconcerned, his tongue tracing his teeth while mocking concern, “Then I guess you’ll have to work extra hard not to ruin more things in his room. Considering you care about that shit still.���

Your mouth opened to argue again, your body feeling like you needed to fight this because there was no way you were going to be able to last with your arms above your head, legs unable to come together, and a vibrator pulsating into your cunt. But as soon as you made your initial noise, Shouto turned on the vibrator to low.

The low buzz of the vibrator filled the room, and your mouth dropped in a silent scream. Your body was half numb already, having cum multiple times within the past hour was causing your body to convulse on occasion, but now with the vibrations being sent straight to your core, you felt on edge once again.

Trying to control your visible reaction, your hands gripped onto the cloth ties, your arms quivering as you try to keep from pulling down, and your hips thrusting subconsciously to the vibrations.

“S-Sir!” You sob as the slow and steady build in your belly was already growing. Your eyes locked on Shouto, who was a length away, his eyes gleaming in sadistic joy as his hand ran up and down his once again hardening cock. “P-Please, tie me to the bed! Not to Endeavor’s fan.”

The glint disappeared.

“You just won’t let me enjoy my fucking victory, will you?!”

You sucked in a harsh breath when you shifted your hips, the head of the vibrator brushing deliciously against your softly throbbing clit. You thrilled at the feeling of the vibrations on your clit, and your toes curled as your head fell forward. You needed to keep vigilante, you had to continue complaining so that Shouto would cave.

But you had completely forgotten about the ball gag.

“Open up.” Your head shakes no when Shouto holds the ball gag against your lips, there’s a warning noise. A dark growl emitted from his throat, and you feel your heart rate spike when his other hand roughly pinched in your cheeks. Your mouth opens against your will, and you splutter when his fingers shove into your mouth. You try to bite down on his fingers, but Shouto’s fingers turn ice cold making your mouth widen further, so then the gag was placed behind your teeth pressing into your tongue. You feel him lean against you, his lips by your ear as he whispers, “I don’t fucking remember asking.”

His hand lowers, and he amps up the vibration of the vibrator, and your body stiffens under the powerful waves. Being gagged was the worst, first drool always seeped past your lips with this particular gag on, and the uncomfortable pressure on your tongue sent your gag reflex flaring. Staring up at the ceiling, your noises were muffled at the source, staggering pleasure shooting through your veins as the medium vibrations made your long-abused cunt weep.

Your slick coated the head of the vibrator, and soaked you inner thighs, soaking the tie where it held contact with your skin. Your body spasmed as you sobbed in pleasure, your mind reeling and short-circuiting when your head dropped.

Focusing onto Shouto, your legs nearly gave out at the sight of your sweating and smirking boyfriend, his ears tinged with blush, and his fist stroking his huge cock. You wanted to have him slamming into you with the vibrator pressed into your clit, not this.

“Aren’t you having fun,” he pronounces slowly, his eyes — still dark with excitement and lust — dropped to your soaked thighs. “You look fucking delicious right now, princess.”

You clenched your core, the feeling of the vibrator only intensified, and you gagged when you tried to cry out. The feeling of your saliva pooling from your lips mortified you, your body twitching as Shouto only laughs again.

“I think we should go higher,” Shouto groans, his eyes momentarily closing as you assume a particularly gratifying shiver crawls down his spine. The muffled sounds of your disapproval only make his smirk more sinister when he abandons his own length and moves closer to you. Your eyes are wide, body attempting to shift away from him, but there was nowhere to go.

Air passed through your nose are heavy and sharp breaths, your chest hammering, and your puffy nerves throbbing while the vibrator continued powering into you.

“You’re so messy,” he drawls on his knees before you, his fingers touching the saliva coating your chin, and you sob in anticipation of what’s to come. He trails his fingers down your throat, the slickness of your saliva cold against your raw and bruised neck. “Maybe you don’t really care about fucking up scums bed, do you?”

You make a disapproving noise, your will holding on to a thread, and you vigorously shake your head. Shouto hums, his upper lip curling before his hand flattened and smacked your breast right on your nipple.

There was a loud crack when your arms pulled down, and you shrieked, your eyes trying to choose between focusing on Shouto and the fan blade you very much could have just broken. You whimper, your body twisting in an attempt to show submission, but Shouto isn’t done.

With an icy cold hand, he hits your aching and hot breast again and again and again. Your pained and pleasured wails muffled while you choke against the ball, and saliva pours from your mouth, your body trembling with excitement.

“Shut up,” he hisses, bringing his other hand to your face and striking you.

Your head slams to the side, the throbbing of your cunt intensifies with the burning of his handprint. Why did you like being slapped?! Saliva dribbles from your lips when you straighten back up. A now unignorable ache fills your arms from being in this tiresome position for a while now.

Everything felt like it was burning, sensations, and wantonness flooding your senses galore.  

“I forget you like this,” Shouto groans as his hands grope your breast. Pulling, kneading, gripping and pinching the soft and moldable flesh in his hands, Shouto grins at your whimpers and the soft groans of the fan above the two of you. “Break the fan, I dare you.”

Your eyes slam shut at those words, and they remained closed as his hot and cold hands trail down your torso, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your lips twitch, the involuntary action to bite down on your lip prohibited by the gag. He must have seen considering the teasing pinch to your ass.

It was then that you froze. He was flushed against you, and the feeling of his cock pressing into the bottom of your sternum. Shouto’s right hand snaked behind you, those fingers playing with your dripping sex, and his left hand skimmed down your right inner thigh, resting onto the switch that changed the vibrational power.

“Don’t worry, princess,” he speaks in a low tone, an arrogant tone to his voice, “I’ll make you cum again.”

There was no time to contemplate his actions, for the vibrator was turned onto the highest setting and pressed into your clit, and his fingers sunk into your sopping wet cunt.

Even with the ball gag, the shriek of being overstimulated was as loud. It was as if you didn’t have the gag on at all. Your arms lurched forward against your will, the fan creaking loudly as you fell onto Shouto. You trembled more than a leaf in a storm, his fingers pumping deliciously and savagely into you, leaving behind the squelching noise of your wet core. The buzzing of the vibrator clear and steady and his cock twitched between the two of your bodies.

Sobbing and drooling moans escaped the gag, and Shouto relished in his ability to manipulate your body like this. His teeth leaving nipping kisses against the broken skin he left minutes before.

But the feeling of his teeth against your aggravated skin, the sensation of the powerful vibrations against your clit, and how he was still so responsive to you was nothing against his pistoning fingers dragged against that particular spot in your walls. His fingers scraped and slammed against your g-spot, and you felt your vision give way as a powerful force crashed through you.

You had squirted again, only that it seemed to last forever this time. Your lower body throbbing in its wake.

Your head collapsed against his shoulder, and when your vision came back, it was hazy and swam in your eyes. Whether Shouto had noticed or not, he still was slamming his fingers within your cunt with such intensity that — alongside the still buzzing vibrator — pressure built again within you. Heat seeped through you, and tears fell from your eyes when you came again.

Everything felt lethargic when Shouto removed his knuckle deep fingers from your sopping cunt, his tongue lapping away any of your essence remaining on his fingers. With a long pause, he finally turned off the vibrator.

Your breathing was shallow, your head spinning while he removed the bondage from your wrists and ankles. Collapsing onto your face, you felt your slick running thick on your thighs, mixing with the sweat that soaked your skin too.

Good god, were you exhausted.

“You broke the fan,” Shouto murmured.

Shrieking against the gag, adrenaline shot through your veins as you looked up. The fan blade had visible cracks in it, and your jaw dropped further.

Oh, fuck!

“Still haven’t learned,” he sighs, shaking his head. “That’s okay, you’ve always been a stubborn bitch.”

You whimper in agreement, your leg shifting so that you could feel the wet puddle you had made this time around. However, there was no time to relax.

Shouto grabbed you by your armpits and dragged you to the edge of the bed. Choking, you stared at him startled. There was no use in asking what was happening; Shouto bent your knees and wrapped two ties around each leg. One holding your ankle and upper thigh together, and the other one near your knee.

“Good,” Shouto approved, walking back to the side of the bed where the toys lay. Though soreness struck your body, you rose to your elbows and watched Shouto grab the fuck machine before returning to the bedside. “Because you squirted.” He says with a coy smile, lining the dildo to your exposed pussy and thrusting it in.

Your body slammed back down against the bed at the slickness of the dildo. You were so used to Shouto’s cock that the dildo was foreign as it buried within you.

“Now,” he sighs as he turns on the machine. Immediately the fuck machine blows into your tight and slippery cunt, your eyes rolling backward at the mere sensation of the speed it was at, and a loud mewl leaves your throat. His fingers snuck behind your head, unfastening the gag, and is removed with a saliva string, and a sob croaked through your voice as your mouth was finally free. “Suck my dick.”

With your head past the edge of the mattress, and the height lining you near perfectly to Shouto’s cock, he slides his cock into your sore throat. But ever so eager, Shouto wastes no time starting his conquest.

You try to keep up with the momentum of the toy and his viciously thrusting hips, your hips snapping against the toy despite its insane speed. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, and you choke against his cock. Shouto chuckles, his hands kneading your breasts, his moans tight and low, it had been a while since the last time he came.

“Look at you, so desperate,” Shouto chuckles, his fingers tweaking your hard nipples. “So fucking needy.”

The words ignite a fire within you, and your legs tremble in unspoken glee. You wanted him to fuck you until you were nothing less than a mess. You needed him to give you his cock instead of this stupid fucking machine — wait…

Your eyes widened when you realized the extent to your thoughts.

Fuck Endeavor, you thought, a shiver rolling down your spine. Your boyfriend was giving you the best dick down of your life, and you were too preoccupied with foolish worry! Shouto promised he was going to be cleaned up. You wanted Shouto, you needed him. Maybe you were whipped.

Your arms shot out, gripping the back of Shouto’s thighs as you willed him closer. Your jaw widening; you let hot breaths of air expelled from your mouth. You could feel Shouto peering down on you, but rolling your hips against the machine that was making your stomach bulge with every slam of its rod, your tongue lashed against his swollen head. Shouto’s thighs clench when your mouth sucks against the head of his cock, your tongue pressing flat against the tip.

“Did someone finally fucking wake up?” Shouto grunts, his hips moving with more unrestraint into your mouth.

Making a pleasant sound, you hollowed your cheeks out and tasted the saltiness of his pre-cum. Delighting at the harsh curse, you guided him further in.

One of his hands is soon braced on the fuck machine between your legs, but the other is tangled in your hair, pulling it and twisting it as he wishes. He’s pulling hard enough to hurt, enough so that you can choke against him, the angle and the position on your back already increasing the likeliness of that happening.

Shouto’s grip on your hair tightens, and he realizes that you’re keeping up impeccably. His dance between aggression and concupiscence is too much for you to keep up with. You don’t have time to tease his length with your tongue; he steers his cock further down your throat. You don’t bother to hide how satisfied you are by his action as you relax your throat and hollow your cheeks against the length of his snapping cock.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his hips bucking forward, he can’t stop himself from demanding more. You don’t mind; you open wider to take more of him in, and his cock thrusts further down your throat. He’s now panting, in his desperation, judging from the strangled sound he makes as you take him even deeper. “You take my cock so good, princess.”

He was doing this for you, despite everything that could happen to him after this night was done. Shouto loved you enough to tarnish his dad’s room with you. The thought makes you moan, and you wiggling trying to take him deep enough now that he must be able to feel the vibrations from your throat because that makes him hiss out another curse. He’s shaking with the effort of slamming his cock down your throat and holding the machine.

The raw, primal, and wet noises of his cock entering and leaving your throat are maniacal, added onto that is the dildo penetrating your sopping cunt again. The pressure is back, and it’s settled deep in your lower belly, and you want to cum more.

He’s underestimating you, however; you could take him in all power and length he could muster. You know that as you begin bobbing your head despite the backwardness of your position. Digging your fingernails into his ass, you silently letting him know that you’re okay, and he understands.

Shouto grunts, bending his knees as he begins to face fuck you with no remorse. It’s savage, uncontrolled, and brutal. Your choking noises music to both your ears; he doesn’t let up, only snapping his hips faster, harder, rougher. Your eyes begin to roll backward at the force, his balls slapping you in the face with every slam of energy.

But you like — you lust — the sensation of the raw and primitive fucking he was giving you, and you felt your hips rising off the bed when your walls begin to clamp against the insanely moving dildo. Yet, when you shifted higher, his hands slammed down against your hips, keeping you down, and you cry around his cock.

“Take my fucking cock like the slut you are,” he snarls, taking giant thrusts until his cock is completely buried in your throat, your nose pressed into his balls. Your tongue still revolves around the veins in his cock while you grip his ass. You choke against him, the noise music to his ears, while your legs spasm as your orgasm is hitting you.

“Y/n,” he manages to get out through gritted teeth. “Fuck, y/n. You—” He cuts himself off with another groan as the tip of his cock hits so far down your throat you feel your neck bulge.

There’s a brief moment of panic as you struggle to breathe. The force a but more than you expected, but you relax, getting yourself to calm back down. But then you inhale through your nose and force your throat to rest until you can take him all in, the oxygen burning as it made its way past his cock in your throat. Not long after that, Shouto lets out a long, loud groan when his seed shoots down your throat.

It burns, and to your horror, you find yourself unable to take the sheer force of his load and the fact that he just seemed to keep unloading within you. Uncontrollable panicked coughing and choking rattle your throat while Shouto is still balls deep in you. The second he removes his cock from your throat, you shoot up, your core throbbing, and your airway burning as cum drips out from your nose.

You continue hacking, the bitter taste of cum scorching your throat, and you continued to rub cum from your nose. It burned and hurt to breathe. Turning your head towards Shouto, who turned off the fucking machine, his eyes were locked on you already, a grin on his face while he ran a hand through his hair.

“That was hot,” Shouto rustles, running the flat of his thumb against your upper lip, smearing his cum against your skin.

“That fucking hurt!” You snap, throwing his hand off your face, a fire exploding under your skin because you were more embarrassed than anything. You enjoyed the feeling of his cum coming out of your nose, but you weren’t about to admit it!

“I don’t care,” Shouto perversely informs you, his hands taking you cheeks and twisting you towards him before his lips press against yours.

His lips are libidinous against yours, his mouth opening as he coaxed you to join him in this affair. His kiss was bruising, his teeth knocking against yours when hot and breathless puffs of air exchanged between your mouths. The heated pressure does nothing to ease the burning in your throat, only intensifying the pain while you dig your fingers into his back, leaving crescent marks and bloodied tears behind. The pain does not deter Shouto, not even a little bit. There’s an approval growl emitting from his throat and his tongue soon pressed against yours, and you resisted the sharp moan threatening to leave while his muscle danced with yours.

“Stop holding it in,” he grunts, “make everyone know that you’re being fucked.”

The next noise to escape your mouth is a loud mewl when Shouto sucks against your own tongue, his eyes ablaze while he stares down at you, victory and lust in his eyes.

“Where should I fuck you next?” He asks, his body pressing you down into the mattress, ignoring your pained hisses for your legs were still bound. His fingers dig into your breasts, pinching at the edges of your areola instead of your nipple. Your fingers dug deeper into his skin when you sob at the teasing. “How does that filthy little cunt of yours want to be ruined next?”

“In his chair!” you cry in gluttony, your body thrashing and reaming against his touch. “Fuck me in his chair, sir!”

“Look at that, maybe the slut can learn,” Shouto grins into your skin, the tracing movements salacious, and he stands. You’re weightless when Shouto scoops you from the bed, his hands supporting your tender ass. Mindlessly, your mouth nibbles against his throat, leaving purple hickies in your wake while he collects more items.

The taste of his salty sweat invades your senses, your tongue lapping, and circling against his skin while Shouto gave no attention towards your actions. He merely dumped you onto the cool leather of Endeavors desk chair, and you arched in pain.

“Now, now,” he ruthlessly grabbed the ties on your legs. He slides them off with such amoral strength your skin throbs in his wake. Your legs, finally free, slam to the ground, and you let out a fervid noise as you stare up at your boyfriend, whose stomach is taut and sheened with sweat. “I thought you liked pain.”

“You haven’t been giving me any,” you sneer, your tongue dragging against your bottom lip.

Rage fills his eyes, and he chuckles depravedly, “Okay, brat.”

Grabbing your hips, he drags you on the chair so that your ass barely remains on the cold leather. Shoving you down by your chest, the wind is knocked out of you, and you heave when he grabs onto your ankles. With a familiar tightness and the strain of having your knees under your shoulders, the spreader bar is placed behind the chairs back, keeping you trapped to the chair.

You’re folded in half, and his hand pressed onto your stomach before he began to tie your arms and thigh down. Two ties to secure your wrist into place, two ties to secure your thighs into place. The position — being placed into an ‘L’ shape — prohibited you from breathing correctly as your inflexibility flashed through your muscles.

“Oh my god,” you breathe while Shouto presses the back of the chair into the desk for additional support. Your wrists throbbed with the loss of blood circulation, and Shouto stood before you, his hand fisting himself.

“Hard to breathe?” He mocks, his cock now fully erect again.

“Make me stop breathing, pussy,” you challenge unwavering.

“God, I was hoping you’d say that,” he smirked, grabbing the top of the chair, and placing his feet by the side of the bed, he rammed himself into your cunt.

There was nothing for you to do except pathetically howl when he slammed into your cervix, your body tied so tight to the chair any other action was stopped.

“You’re so fucking tight like this,” Shouto hisses, but you could hardly tell the difference with the way he pummels his cock deep within you. Perfectly hitting the back of your wall every time.

His girth was stretching you out far more than you could seem to remember, his thrusts were urgent as they were voracious, slamming deep into you with every second, scrambling your mind with every shift. But, he didn’t gag you, and you weren’t one to give in.

“It’s because you n-never fuck me r-rIGHT!”

His left fingers slammed into your mouth, his fingers touching the back of your throat as you choked against him in your surprise. Tears watered in your eyes, and his fingers dug into your spongy muscle, making you gag even more laborious.

It already hurt to breathe, with the sensation of his cum still falling from your nose, the angle of which you were tied up, and his finger in your throat, you began to panic. Your eyes close, your throat relaxing immediately to let things be okay. But as soon as you regain your breath, you feel your core throb in how much you liked that. Tears flow down your cheeks, your eyes locked on Shouto, who’s scorching you with his sight.

“I thought you were going to tap out,” he taunts, and your tongue pushes up against his fingers, your throat humming lowly to control the insistent gag at the back of your throat. “You’re crying, and yet you’re still so defiant.”

You tilt your head up, alleviating the pressure of his fingers in your throat, and still looking like a brat.

But his cock brushes against your g-spot and your eyes nearly bug out in ecstasy for his right-hand wraps around your neck. His cock still slams into you with speed and power, the oxygen in your body being denied with his tight grip around your neck, his fingers beginning to thrust within your mouth emulating a cock, and the chair starts to squeak with every movement.

Your ass pathetically rises off the chair, a desperate attempt to move in time with his drilling cock. Both of you delirious under your overstimulation and refusal to stop until there was evidence for years that the two of you fucked in Endeavors’ room. His grip around your neck soon became bruising, where his fingertips were burned you, but you cared not. His cock was stretching you out in shameless thrill, the angle only increasing the pleasure buzzing through you. Your eyes cross over in your elation, and you splutter when his fingers leave your throat, moving to press cold and wet figure-eights onto your clit.

“Fucking take my cock,” he growls.

Your head nods, the heated pressure in your belly scorching. Your walls clamp down against his hammering cock, but it doesn’t slow him down, only encouraging him to increase his speed and strength until the chair creaked against your weight. The sopping noises of your meeting sex filled your ears, and you moaned loudly, your teeth biting down onto your lip.

It takes his cock brushing against your g-spot for your legs to slam forward, your arms nearly succeeding in destroying endeavors ties as you try sitting up as your orgasm slams through you.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” You scream hoarsely. Your scream only increases in great thrill when you feel the chair snap under the force of his fuck. But Shouto ignores it, his hips continuing to drill into you, his hand clamping tighter against your neck, cutting off your voice. Shouto isn’t done yet, after all.

His hands move to grip the exposed back of your thighs, his grip bruising your supple skin. He slams into you faster, his cock continuing unaffected by your convulsing walls. There are no other noises except your wet cunt meeting his cock, your shrieks of approval, and Shouto’s heavy breathing as he continues to drive into you. His body is giving you unreplicable sensations, and your body only making Shouto stammer and curse loudly.

His lips find yours, and there is nothing to say, the kiss is messy, more teeth than anything. Saliva passed between the two of you without care, as he chases his orgasm. His brutal pace continues, your name growled from your throat, until one last thrust and one final clamp from your cunt sends him over.

He pulls out as soon as he cums, his seed slipping down from your slit, tickling your tight ass and dripping onto the chair and the floor.

Your eyes are barely opened; you try to peer at Shouto, who is pressing his right hand to his forehead.

“You cheat,” you rasp, knowing that he had successfully cooled his body down.

He smiles at you wickedly, choosing to ignore you before walking back.

“Look at that,” Shouto whispers, bending down so that his face is level with your cunt and ass. “Can’t have anything not falling onto Endeavors things getting out of you…”

His finger pushes his cum back into your sore cunt, and you sharply breath when he pats your cunt.

“You want me to have your babies,” you tease, and he remains silent, dragging his fingers down the center of your pussy. His breathing teases your sensitive flesh, and you feel yourself clench when he pulls his fingers lower than where he usually goes. Soon, his fingers trace around your puckered asshole.

“S-Sir,” you pant, your chest rising as far up as you could in this position, and your eyes widened when he looked up at you.

“Have you ever wanted to try anal?”

Your mouth drops when the pad of his finger teases your other entrance, and your thighs shook while you remained silent.

His opposite hand struck your ass sharply, your body thrashing as it stung against your unprepared skin.

“Answer me.”

“Y-Yes!”

“Yes, what?!”

“I want your cock in my ass!”

Your boyfriend’s quirk did not involve speed; in fact, without his quirk, he was not that fast. Sure he was athletic and adequately trained, but in comparison to those on the Hero field, if you took away quirk usage, he was barely above average. But there were times that you believed he was incredibly fast, and this was one of those moments.

You found your face, chest, and knees buried back into the mattress, your back arched so much you swore you would need a spine replacement after this, and the ties and spreader bar were gone.

His fingers slide between your folds, lathering in your essence. A low groan left your lips at the feeling, and you quivered when Shouto’s hands spread your ass cheeks.

“B-Be gentle,” you whimper when he presses the pad of his forefinger against your pert hole. Your ass tightened instinctively, and Shouto huffed but pressed his finger in. A weird full pain shot through you when the tip of his finger entered your rectum, your ass squeezing against his finger, trying to deny him entrance.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, his other hand massaging your ass cheek, trying to calm your instincts to let him in.

Your fingers dig into the comforter, the still wet fabric from your multiple orgasms was cold under your heated fingers. But something cold splashed against your ass, and you shook, demanding to know what it was.

“Lube,” he answers, a smirk evident in his tone as his fingers leave your asshole. A soft groan exhales from your breath at him exiting your ass, and soon enough, his finger returns to your puckered tight hole. The feeling of his fingers pushing in you to his first knuckles sends your ass flying backward toward him, a desperate and idiotic way of getting him further in.

It was a weird feeling, almost reminiscent to the first time you had sex, only completely different. It made your head spin in a frenzied way and felt backward but in a way where you needed more.

“You like this,” he laughs, his lips pressing against your spine. Your head nods, you’re unable to speak as his fingers push into you and pull back out. It’s a slow and chilling movement that fills your asshole and makes you dizzy.

“Shit,” you breathe, your body rattling, your ass rolling against his fingers.

“Are you ready for my cock, whore?” He asks, and you whine in response. His hand grips your ass, and his finger curls within you. You loudly call out his name, feeling your body turning weak as you lay there, a slave to his manipulation. His manipulation of your ass sends warm liquid falling down your thighs, shining against your skin as his hand smacks your inner thigh, and he relishes in your high pitched squeal. “You finally cave to anal when I’m fucking you here. Is this what you wanted all along?”

Your eyes clamp shut as his fingers exit your ass, and you only manage a panting groan in response. There’s a soft ripping noise before a package hits your face.

Your eyes open to see a condom package sitting by your face, its empty, and you shift your head to stare at Shouto who’s unraveling the condom on his cock.

“You haven’t used those in a while,” you remark snidely, your eyes glowing with amusement as he locks onto you, his eyes rolling.

“I remember a certain someone begging for me to put it in her raw,” he smoothly states, lube in his hands now, and he applies a lot on the smooth condom. “Besides, you want my cock up your ass, you don’t get to play that card right now.”

“Yeah, well — oHMY GOD!”

Shouto, without warning, presses the head of his cock within your asshole. It stretches you out disgustingly, sharp pain throbbing in your ass and cunt as he settles within you. Despite his cock halfway buried within your ass, it’s your pussy that weeps. Your slick runs rampant down your inner thigh, falling onto the bed top. Shouto’s fingers dig into your waist, the both of you breathing heavy at this new feeling.

Slowly, his fingers move to your breast and your nipples, and with the smallest nod from you, he begins.

In and out, he moves, his hips moving faster than a manageable speed, and your eyes welled with tears at the constipated feeling in your asshole. His fingers tweak and pull at your clit and nipple, savagely teasing them, uncaring that your cries left drooling puddles on the bed. His thrusting movements became quicker, harder, and more solid until a familiar sensation of his balls slapping your skin burned your mind.

“More,” you beg against the sheets, drool coating your cheek, your body nothing more than his fuck toy. “Fuck my asshole harder.”

Shouto merely growls, the pinch on your clit, making your hips buck against his cock, and he began to barbarically slam into you. It was as if it was your pussy and not your ass he was drilling into.

Your body shifts with his every movement, your slick pouring from your cunt, and he let go of your nipple. In your crazed state, you sob at the loss of contact, but his hand strikes against your soaked cunt with a loud sound. The force alone nearly sends your eyes flying open, your vision blurring when his finger dive into your sex.

His fingers work at double the speed of which his hips slam into you. His fingers pushing the limits of your velvet walls; he curls his fingers against your walls, dragging them deliciously against your clenching heat. Then there was his cock, and at times the thin walls that separated his fingers and his cock brushed together, sending you into a new frenzy while you sobbed his name.

Begging for more, begging to come.

“You already need to come?!” He snaps, his hips not at all weak, and you moaned loudly, knowing that he was nowhere close. “Then come you, filthy bitch, I just started, and you need to come!”

“I-It feels so fucking good,” you garble, your jaw unable to move for its slack against the mattress, electrifying pleasure singing your nerves, and with a loud smack to your pussy, you come hard against his fingers, splashing against the bed top.

There’s no time wasted; Shouto pulls himself from your ass and shoves you onto your back again. There’s no fightback, no attitude, from you. Without being forced to, your legs are brought to your chest while Shouto discards the condom onto the bed.

“Aren’t you so fucking enthusiastic, getting all ready for me without asking,” Shouto grins, his hands grabbing your legs right below your ankle. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you right now?”

“Y-You’re going to fill me up with your cum,” you stammer for he pushes your legs slowly towards you, the stretch in your muscles overwhelming for your sore body. “You’re going to give me your babies.”

“What else?” He taunts, the top of his cock rubbing against your clit.

“B-Breed me like the bitch I am, sir!” Your cry, wanting nothing more than his cock to bury all nine inches in you.

“Come for me one more time, and I’ll make sure to fill you until you’re dripping with my semen for an entire week,” Shouto promises, and his hips slam within you.

Your knees are buried within the mattress by your head, your feet curling and pressing against each other.  Shouto lays on top of you, the penetration deep, and his hands gripping yours. The weight of having him on you is exhilarating, and for the first time this night, his lips press hungrily against yours while ball deep within you.

His cock slams against the wall of your cervix repetitively while his lips overwhelm you. Each slam into you is massive and powerful. Powerful enough to have you sobbing into his mouth while he kisses you, his hands clutching your smaller ones in his.

Again and again, he slams into you. His thrusts knocking the wind out of you until you release his hands and find yourself digging your fingers into his back, crying out his name desperately while his teeth find a home on your neck, sinking into flesh he had long ago broke. The powerful pounding of his cock makes you keen, your hips jerking up to meet his, but you’re useless against his downward thrusts.

“Impregnate me, sir,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back in pleasure, “breed me, please!”

“You’ll be full of my fucking kids in no time, your cute belly will be round with my kid,” he snaps, his cock throbbing within your pussy, and loud echoing slaps fill the room. Your nails claw at his back, marking him in multiple places with clean four red lines.

You couldn’t take the feeling of how his body moved perfectly within you, the strength and power behind his every move were almost too natural as if this was an everyday thing. You let out noises reasonably similar to a purr, grinding your cunt against his conquesting cock and laughing breathlessly at his low groan.

“You like this, whore?” Shouto nips at your throat, his thrusts making you shriek out his name as he buries you further into the bed, your nails digging into his flesh. “You like the way my cock fills your pussy the same way it did that pretty little ass?” You nod rapidly, your eyes closed, your mouth open, your pants tumbling from your mouth. Your sanity was lying on a string, his actions the reasons for your downfall.

His leverage was small, but every thrust seemed to have his cock being pulled out of you nearly completely. Before he drilled back into your pussy. The noises of your connecting wet sex left loud echo with your squelching pussy around his hot cock.

The muscles on his back seemed to flare dramatically, your screams turning silent due to your approval of this.

“You like the way I fuck your pussy? The way that I’ll fill you with my seed for days to come?” he growls into your ear, his hips inhumanly slamming into you.

“I need you to breed me,” you sob, the fire in your face as bright and hot as the one between your legs. His sweaty forehead pressed against yours, and his lips recapture yours.

Your mind goes blank when a mighty crash goes through you. But Shouto must not have felt the familiar spastic clamping of your inner walls as he continues pistoling his hips into you, hitting your cervix, and pushing it further up with every slam. You cry against his mouth, your hands shoving at his shoulders as the feeling of your orgasm was too strong to deny, and he slips out of you.

You squirt wildly, your juices going everywhere, wetting his groin area, and splashing against the bed.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he growls, and once again slams into you.

Your scream is silent, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your fingers digging into his neck, and your toes curl. His hips are driving, persistent, and have a goal in mind. You can barely keep up with him, your long overstimulated body wanting to collapse at the seams, but he doesn’t stop.

The bed creaks loudly under you, headboard crashing into the wall, over and over again.

“Cum, sir,” you beg, your hips wildly thrashing against his. “Please, fill me with your seed!”

That’s all it takes, and a hot and heavy load shoots through you, and Shouto collapses onto you at the same time the bed falls. Neither one of you reacts as gravity shifts you both slightly downwards, but your mind is too full of Shouto to care. His body twitching while his cock remains hard within you, the feeling of his cum swimming in your cunt, making your head spin with euphoria.

Drowsiness hits you quickly, and Shouto’s body heat is quickly putting you to sleep.

He pulls out of you gently, and the feeling of his cock no longer in you makes you whimper, your nose burying into his neck as he flips the two of you over so that you’re laying on his chest. His hands send warm and cooling waves through your body, helping soothe the aches in your tired body.

Who knew Endeavor was the key to making Shouto lose control. Maybe you needed to get him to fuck you on this bed more often now.

You can feel the cum seeping from your cunt, and Shouto must have too, for he scooped it back in with his fingers, and you chuckled at the feeling of his warm fingers against your seizing cunt. This was nice, you loved this.

“I didn’t go too overboard, did I?” He asks, his voice small given that he saw the blood that trailed down your neck and the raised handprints on your ass.

“No,” you say, your hands running down his muscled sides. “Not at all, I really enjoyed this, sir.”

Your words are teasing, and the two of you chuckle as silence overtakes the two of you.

“I love you, y/n,” he whispers, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“I love you, too, Shouto,” you mumble, your eyes fluttering closed, sleep consuming you.

You don’t remember anything else, only that you woke up the next morning in your bed, your body is strewn with purple bruises, red hickies, and handprints on your body, wearing nothing but Shouto’s shirt and your panties.

“Good morning beautiful,” his voice greets you, and you sigh, soreness rampaging your body.

“Good morning, my love.”

Bonus!

Endeavor walked into his house at three in the morning, the strains of a late night at work had truly exhausted him.

Shouto, who he had asked to take care of his house for only two hours had stayed much later. His son had informed him that he left ten minutes before he arrived. It was too bad, Endeavor thought, he wasn’t able to get back on time to see his son and girlfriend. Tossing his case to the floor, Endeavor was ready for bed.

Trudging through his house, he was quick to realize how humid the house was when he neared his room. His eyebrows scrunched, his attention on alert as he threw open the door, the lights and fan turned on by mistake.

CRASH!

Endeavors’ eyes widened at the sight of the cum-stained bed, the ruined sheets, the slanted chair, and his bed being held together by ice. His eyes locked on the fan blade that fell from its place; it was cracked entirely in the middle. There was no denying that his room was wholly and disgustingly used, and for what?! His stupid kid didn’t ever need to stay!

“SHOUTOOOOOO!”

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shouto #bnha x reader #bnha todoroki #mha x reader #todoroki smut

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

Disaster.

JAVIER PEÑA. ┃ NARCOS.

❝ words: about 1.8k

❝ warnings: nsfw, unprotected sex, mention of bodily fluids, language, soft Javi.

❝ summary: Never let Javier do the laundry.

❝ a / n: This is a writing for Javier that has four years or more, but I translated it to English. Dialogues are in spanish, but this work also contains the translations. As always, I hope you enjoy and feedback is appreciated ❤.

Gif credits to the author.

MASTERLIST. ⎢ MULTIFANDOM TAG LIST.

The sunbeams through the curtains disturb your peaceful sleep, rolling tangled in the soft sheets to toss an arm over Javier's chest. But it falls over the cold mattress. Growling still not awake at all, you palm his empty side of the bed. Sitting up on your left arm, you glance through the door to the living room. No noise outside his dorm that makes you know he's still at his house. Lying on your back and tilting your head with a puff escaping your lips, your eyes land on a hand-written note on his nightstand waiting for you to be read. Kissing your lips, you stretch an arm to grab it. “Te quiero hablar sobre algo más tarde, me esperas, ¿sí? Te amo, pendeja”.

The first time he called you like that was the day you met him —or more precisely, the day you almost ran over him. You remember him with both hands on the hood of your car, screaming at you “¿qué pasó, pendeja? A caso, ¿no me vió?” You were focused on texting your boss, but when you raised your eyes and made eye contact both you and him fell for each other, a fact that surprised you when his partner told you he was a perro; every night with a different woman.

A goofy smile curves your lips, feeling yet the kisses Javier spread last night all over your skin, just hoping he has left some coffee for you when you decide to get up. Directing your steps to his wardrobe, fully naked, you pick one of his t-shirts impregnated with his heavenly smell to wear it. You don't have anything planned for today other than enjoying your free day and wait for him to come back, so when you see the mess his house is in your opinion, you settle on cleaning it.

After having breakfast como Dios manda, you start for the living room. Except for the documents and the archives from his job, you pick up all the trash around, before sweeping the floor and dust the furniture. Once it is done, you continue with the laundry. God, this man has clothes thrown throughout the house. Putting them inside the basket, you bring them to the kitchen, but you have to leave aside your task when you find the washing machine already occupied. You're starting to tremble. Javier is a disaster, and you don't need to be a genius to realize it. So, when you see a red shirt inside, mixed with your white clothes, you pray for everything you know.

Opening the small door, you confirm your suspicion.

“¡PUTA MADRE! ¡NO JODAS! ¡HUEVÓN MALPARIO'!”

(Shit! Son of a bitch!)

Music in Spanish sounds all around the house, with the kitchen as the epicenter. You're cooking something for dinner, wearing a short chiffon dress —that makes your legs stand out and that used to be white, now is some kind of pink—, stalling till Javier comes back. Oh, he's going to pay for what happened.

“¿Mi amor?” The front door gets closed while hearing his voice calling you. “¡Ya regresé! ¿Dónde te metis— whoa, whoa, whoa…”

(¿My dear? I'm back! Where are you?)

Your boyfriend stops in his tracks as his mouth drops to the floor. Taking off his aviator sunglasses, you find him ogling you with eyes widened. He gulps to wet his sore throat while licking his bottom lip.

“A ver, a ver… voltéate”. He whispers waving his index finger doing circle moves.

(Let's see, turn around).

In silence, you obey his petition in slow motion so he can delight with the views, drawing a gunny grimace on your face. When you face him again, he is crossing himself thanking God. Raising both eyebrows, you take some steps closer swinging your hips to provoke him a little more, having so much fun.

“¿Sí te gusta mi vestido, hm?”

(Do you like my dress, hm?)

He just nods his chin fascinated, not being able to speak.

“Está bonito, ¿verdad? Pero… pues más bonito estaba cuando era blanco”. You reply, lifting both arms at the sides of your body.

(It's beautiful, isn't it? But... It was perfect when it was white).

“¿Cómo así, mi amor?”

(What do you mean, my love?)

Javier doesn't understand what's going on when you practically drag him through the kitchen to the clothesline outside, pointing at your white clothes, now of a strange pink discolored, he has to swallow a giggle. Pressing his lips together, he scratches the bridge of his nose doing his best to not laugh.

“A ver, cuéntame el chiste. Así me río yo también”.

(Tell me the joke. So I can laugh too).

“¡No me estoy riendo!” He feigns to be offended raising his hands to his chest.

(I'm not laughing!)

“Seguro… ¿No es esa tu camisa favorita?” You ask making a soft and brief move with your chin.

(Sure... Isn't that your favorite shirt?)

Putting his brown eyes on the piece of clothing he's wearing, he doesn't have a chance to reply when you ruin it and all its buttons by a strong pull, making them fall to the floor. A proud grin curves your lips up, while Javier tries to babble something. But the response to your action is better than you could think.

Crashing his lips on yours, his fingers move faster than you can assimilate to undoing his belt and the zip of his jeans, as he devours your mouth hungry like a stray dog. His tongue fights yours in a battle for dominance, pulling down his clothes before forcing you to turn and face the counter. Javier ruins your thong as easily as you have ruined his shirt, causing you to moan when he obligates you to spread your legs for him.

Bending over the counter and sticking out your ass, hearing him jerking off his delicious cock, your boyfriend digs his hardness as deep as he can into your soaked cunt. You cry out his name inevitably. Javier spits an animalistic groaning onto your ear. It doesn't matter how many times you two have fuck, you always need a second to adjust to his length, but this time he doesn't give you the opportunity. Not losing time, he grabs your throat with his right hand whilst the other presses your body to the counter from behind. Javier rocks his hips furiously, back and forth, running out of air. Soon, your moans and your whinings fill the kitchen, as the dry noise his pelvis produces when it crashes your limits.

“Si querías coger… solo tenías que decirlo”. He hisses lost in the pleasure, thrusting you harder with every move.

(If you wanted to fuck, you just had to ask for it).

It's not like he's mad at you, it's more like he is trying to compensate you for what he has done. He knows to perfection how to worship your body, how to make you feel loved and desired; but he also knows to perfection that you prefer him to be rougher than gentle —pulling your hair, choking you, biting your neck, making you beg.

“Ah, Javi…”

“Sí te gusta que te… coja, ¿no?”

(Do you like how I fuck you, right?)

“Sí, sí… Más rápido, por favor… por favor”.

(Yes, yes... Faster, please... please).

Your right-hand wraps his wrist, securing a little more the grip on your throat before guiding his other to your legs, straight to your throbbing clit.

“Tan ansiosa, tan necesitada mi gatita”.

(So anxious, so needy my kitten).

His forefinger caresses your finger so softly that he could kill you, quite the opposite of his waist.

“Qué rico…” You gasp enraptured, arching your back and tilting your head to reach his lips.

The fight of your tongues continues, drinking each other's pleasing growls, while the pace of his finger increases too close to the orgasm.

“No pares… no pares, por favor”. You beg onto his mouth, trailing his lips after over your jawline down to your neck.

(Don't stop... don't stop, please).

Nailing his teeth causing you to whimper loudly, your legs start to tremble as Javier digs his twitching hardness into you once and once, not letting you breathe for a second and pushing you to the edge. You can't help but scream his name, just like he loves, feeling the tickles exploding within your belly and letting yourself go. Your boyfriend only needs some more pushes straight to your g-spot to come inside you with a delighted howl drown against your neck. His warm seed mixed with your wetness makes him sigh breathless, collapsing over your back as you need to rest your arms over the counter till recovering.

“Me vuelves loco, mujer”. Javier mumbles, placing gentle kisses on your shoulder before caressing it with the tip of his nose.

(You drive me crazy).

Slowly pulling himself out of your overstimulated cunt, stealing you a disappointed whining for the sudden emptiness, he puts on his clothes as you turn around to face him.

“Te ves bien bonita, así toda hecha un desastre”. His perfect and charming smile gives you goosebumps, leaning forward to you to pepper your lips with so much tenderness.

(You look beautiful just like that, messy).

“Qué chistoso”. You chuckle placing both hands on his neck.

(Very funny).

“¿Arrunche en la tina?”

(Cuddles in the bathtub?)

“Por favor”. You just reply before he lifts you on his arms in the most purest bridal style, making you laugh lively and satisfied.

(Please).

In barely a couple of minutes, your bodies are covered by warm water, relaxing every inch of them and making the tension disappear. Javier is lying back on your chest, smoking with both eyes closed as your fingertips gently roam his chest. You have missed him too much today, being something rare for you to not spend your days off together, but he has been through so much work lately.

“¿De qué me querías hablar?”

(What you wanted to tell me?)

“¿Hm…?” Expelling the smoke through his nostrils, Javier raises his chocolate eyes towards yours.

“La nota”. You add referring to the piece of paper you found this morning on his nightstand.

(The note).

“Pensé en que vinieras a vivir conmigo”.

(I was thinking that you could come to live with me).

That's it. No doubts. No questions.

“¿Vivir juntos? ¿Acá?”

(Live together? Here?)

“Sí, acá”. Javier says puckering his lips, moving his mustache funnily. “¿Qué tiene de malo, pues?”

(Yeah, here. What's wrong?)

“Nada, nada… Está bien, me parece chévere”.

(Nothing, it's okay, I like it).

“¿Te parece chévere?” He scoffs sitting up, turning his head towards yours.

(Do you —just— like it?)

“Sí, ¿qué pasó?”

(Yeah, what's up?)

“Pensé que… no sé… que estarías feliz”.

(I thought... I don't know... You'd be happy).

Raising your eyebrows not believing what he's saying, you roll your eyes moving your arms around his neck to push him back again.

“No seas pendejo, Javi… Estoy más que feliz”.

(Don't be an idiot, Javi... I'm more than happy).

Embracing him tightly to your chest, you sink your nose into his neck taking a deep breath from his scent, almost dizzying you.

“Mírate… de perro callejero a perro casero”. You chuckle close to his ear, biting softly his earlobe.

(Look at you... from stray dog to domesticated dog).

“Pendeja…”

#narcos #narcos imagine #javier peña #javier pena #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña imagine #javier pena imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal #javier pena x you #javier peña x you #pedro pascal x you

[parkers-gal]

Hey lovie, so Idk if you take requests but based on the other fic I read about Harrison having a baby sister and the boys talking behind her back can you write something about reader keeping her boyfriend a secret from the boys and she’s out with some friends and Harry sees the friends insta story and seeing reader in the corner on a boys lap and they Drive as fast a possible to the location to get haz babysister and being all protective around her like „what do you do on a random boys lap?“ and she’s like „uh, he’s my boyfriend.��

combing this with another request, hope u don’t mind :)

Hey! I've just read circles before selves and I loved it so much!! 😔 if you feel like it fits, could you write a part 2 where one of the boys has feelings for yn and really missed her during that time? Really angst? Thanks, bby! ❤❤

wc: 1.7 k

—

Through the week you’d ghosted the four of them, Tom had probably been affected the most. Being your brother’s best friend, he was very much intertwined with your life, which meant he was just as dependent on you as he was on Harrison.

The night after their apology in your apartment, Tom had come over with more take out and one of his hoodies on his arm.

“Hey… Tom?” You were surprised by his presence, standing in the doorway of the front entrance, Tom on your patio. “What’s up?”

“Can I- uh… Can I talk to you?” “Sure…” You’re still confused, but nevertheless, open the door wider for him.

Tom has always been your protector in a different way than Harrison’s ‘older-brother protective mode.’ He’s genuinely cared about your well-being, and tended to keep you out of the public’s eyes despite you not being a celebrity. He was there when you needed a ride home in the rain, and he was there when your ex-boyfriend had cheated on you with your best friend. He was there, angrily, supportively, encouragingly. Sure, he gave you butterflies, but you as another rule of the circle goes, siblings are off limits. Nobody had ever broken the rule, and you suspected Tom wasn’t here to break it either, so you dropped the thoughts from your mind, attention resorting back to the brunette in front of you.

“What’s happening?” You’re awkwardly sitting on the couch beside him until the tension fades away into nothingness. It’s never like this between the two of you, but you’re picking apart the context, pointing out in your head his demeanor — and why this time feels different.

“I, erhm,” He clears his throat. “I really missed you those past two weeks.”

“Aww,” You jutt a lip out, assuming that’s all he’s here for. Restoring those lost cuddles, huh? “I really missed you, too.” “That’s… not exactly what I mean.”

“Okay…” You lean back a bit in defeat. “What do you mean, then?”

“I mean… I’ve had feelings for you for a while.” He’s blushing profusely, scratching the back of his neck out of nervousness. Your eyes widen and he’s quick to continue, not wanting to shock you too much. “And- And I know it’s so fucking cliche — your brother’s best friend likes you — and I know that we have that stupid rule about not going out with your best friend’s siblings but I just… I don’t want to go away on- on… business or something and come back and you’re somebody else’s girl.”

You can’t help but let a grin take over your face. You can feel yourself heating up, hands coming to block your face from his view, trying to save your dignity and keep the embarrassment to a minimum despite him spilling his heart out right in front of you.

“Do… do you feel the same way?” You bite your lip before picking your head up. He’s so innocent — so sweet and so gentle and tender and pure with his words — and the glint of hope in his eyes could make your heart burst. It doesn’t, but instead flutters faster, wings flapping as it prepares to take flight. You’re afraid of where it’s going, but you decide to let it fly right in the hands of the boy standing in front of you.

“I didn’t think you’d ever feel the same way.” You confess it sheepishly. Tom’s quick to grow redder, ears turning a scarlet shade.

“The- the same way?”

“Yeah,” You breathe out a laugh. “I have feelings for you, too.” “That’s…” He trails off with a smile before remembering the hoodie he has in his hands. “Do you, uh- do you wanna be my girlfriend?” He holds the article of clothing out as an offer, widening your grin as you stand with a nod. “Yeah,” You take the hoodie from him, slipping it on smoothly. His smirk grows at the sight of you in his clothing. “You’ll be my boyfriend?”

He rolls his eyes jokingly, laughing with a happy smile. “Yeah.”

That is how you ended up here, at a bar with a few of your friends. Aisha and her girlfriend sit on your right — you’re on the inside of the crowded booth, sitting atop Tom’s lap to save space and to nuzzle closer to him. He’d told his brothers and yours that he was going up north to Manchester for the weekend.

In reality, he was secretly staying in your apartment, which was a few miles from the flat he shared with Harrison and the twins. The two of you were downtown right now, dressed for clubbing despite only downing a few shots. He’s dressed a bit differently than from his normal ‘clubbing’ outfits — you style him in dark grey slacks and a mesh shirt. His hair was slightly messy but hotter than ever, and your fingers constantly took a trip through the strands of curls, massaging his scalp while he groaned occasionally.

(Yeah fuck me, that esquire picture fucked me up for days.)

He’s holding a beer, now, one hand on your waist. Your legs are splayed across his lap, ass on his thigh comfortably while an arm wraps around the back of his neck. It’s comfortable — and intimate, but neither of you mind. It’s barely nine o’clock, and Aisha had insisted on paying for one of those stupid clubbing games. A waiter had brought the drinks over, and now each of you were going around to answer the questions as best they could with the amount of alcohol in their veins.

The two girls across from you were drinking the most, but Aisha’s girlfriend, Iridessa, was designated driver for the night, so the rest of your friend group was fine with getting wasted.

“Time for a cute pic,” Andrea announced, beckoning the cute waiter over for a favor. He took the picture on your Instagram, handing it back to you while you posted it to your story in seconds.

Your pose against Tom was cozy, and his face was hidden in the crook of your neck — you remember this fact very well, because he’d left a few open-mouthed kisses against your skin in the middle of the picture. His hair was different, and you hoped the only correlation between him and the boy your brother knew was that his lanky fingers were gripping a glass of beer.

Within a matter of minutes, each of Tom’s brothers — and your own — were replying to the post of you cuddled up with a ‘mysterious boy.’ They were currently discussing it in the Instagram groupchat, and Tom was trying to act as surprised, but he was being vague, too preoccupied with the girl in his lap.

You clicked the off button, setting your phone down on the wooden table, deciding to let them chatter away and deciphering who you were with and why. That was a mistake, because they had decided to talk about it in their kitchen, eventually deciding to drive down to the bar you were at. It was only a fifteen minute drive — what was the harm?

You were caught off guard by the door swinging open, emerging three boys searching for you. You gasped, alerting Tom and Aisha that if they did see you, your relationship would be outed. You tried to hide away in the booth, go as unnoticed as possible. You saw them go to the back of the bar, where more people were located, and breathed out in relief. They wouldn’t be leaving that room anytime soon — it was too crowded.

You remained in your seat, joining the game normally again. You missed the way Harrison had gasped, eyes widening as he pointed to you for the twins to see. They came practically marching over to your booth to get a better look at the brown-haired boy whose lap you were seated in.

“Y/N?” Harrison asked, another gasp escaping. “Tom?!” Your jaw dropped open, eyebrows raising against your forehead. You felt Tom’s hand squeeze your waist in acknowledgement — in protectiveness — and you tried to act as normal as possible.

“Hi.” You spoke meekly, something Harrison had rolled his eyes at.

“Tom?!” Harry was just as surprised. “You’re supposed to be in Manchester! For the weekend!” “Right…” He laughed sheepishly. “Surprise? I’m sorry, I lied.” He tried again, noticing Harrison’s jaw tense, clenching and unclenching.

“You’re…. You’re with my baby sister?!”

Tom nibbled his bottom lip and you placed a calming hand on his chest. “Guys, don’t freak out. You’re gonna cause a scene.” You eyed them. “Especially you, Haz.” He shifted on his feet, dominantly leaning on his right one.

“You’re breaking rule number two.”

You didn’t falter as you responded, without missing a beat. “You broke rule number one, first.”

He didn’t answer, and you could sense Aisha and Iridessa were awkwardly sitting between you and the boys. The tension was thicker than you thought it’d be, so you decided to speak again, filling the silence before Harrison had a breakdown in front of everyone.

“Look, can we just talk about this later? I’m with people right now, I can’t really have this conversation here.”

“Fine.” Harrison agreed, but he sneered closer to Tom, eyes crisp and jaw tight. “But you’re not off the hook, Tommy.”

Tom nodded nonchalantly, sipping his beer before replying. “Do you mind? My girl and I are a bit busy.”

You bit your lip at his words, knees weakening and stomach erupting in butterflies. This boy-

That seemed to tick Harrison off in a teasing way before they finally left the bar. You exhaled in relief, gasping at Tom. “That’s literally saying something to my dad like ‘you’re not the only daddy anymore!’” You compared the instances. “You’re a cheeky bastard.” You slapped his shoulder. Tom let out a loud laugh, chuckling while his hand rubbed up and down your side. “You know Harrison’s still gonna be pissed, though.” You sighed and Tom pouted, kissing your nose to grab your attention.

“It’s gonna be okay, alright?” You nodded, a bit unconvinced, and Tom clicked his tongue. “Trust me?”

You nodded again, faithfully, and he smirked, squeezing your hip again. You brought his hand to you, guiding the glass to your lips and sipping his beer. He watched you through hooded eyelids, tongue running across his bottom lip, across his teeth. You could see his pupils dilate, and you smirked from behind the cup, fingers slipping from his hand with a small smirk, turning back to the girls and continuing the game just as you had before.

#tom holland x osterfield!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland smutty #tom holland fic #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fluffy #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland blurb #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #tom x reader

[jarofstyles]

Waterfalls

A/N: We had so much fun writing the last one that we decided to do another one 👉🏼👈🏼This is another prompt from @majorharry​​’s 20k fic celebration! (congrats again cass, we lysm) we used prompt 40 “Cover up, please.” a nice little smutty possessive harry moment for you all in contrast to the last one ✨ - n + d

If you like this, check out our Patreon!

send feedback and requests here

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warning: smut, exhibitionism, daddy kink, spit kink

word count: 3.3k

“Cover up, please.” Harry muttered, clenching his jaw noticing the stares coming over to them. It was to Y/N though. The pool party was a good idea in theory but once he realized people were going to see more of his lover in general, he felt that little (big) possessive head of his rear and he felt feral, a little bit. He didn’t like other people looking. Simply put— she was his. Of course she was her own person. Independent. She didn’t need him, but she chose to be his and that was the best damn thing that has happened for him. Adding in the fact that yes, Y/N was the most beautiful person he had ever experienced, he knew other people could see it too. Most of the time? He loved it. He showed her off to many people. But when she was showing so much skin and people’s minds would wander... he did worry. He didn’t like people imagining what her skin felt like or how it felt to grab his waist or how beautiful her shape really was. Harry took her cover up and scowled, holding it up to her. The roll of her eyes made him whine, pulling her further into his body. “No. Don’t want ‘em staring too much.” His large hands covered her ass, pouting slightly.

“Baby...” Y/N chuckled, looking up at him with her brows raised. She knew he had a tendency to be possessive, but it was something she thought of as no big deal. He was just protective of her, wanted to assert his dominance over anyone who thought about putting the moves on her. But this? She didn’t realize this would cause it to flare up. “We’re at a pool party, what’d you think I was going to wear?” She asked, pushing a few pieces of hair away from his face in an attempt to soothe him. “No one is looking at me.” Y/N pecked his lips a few times, “and if they are, they can clearly see you’re with me, no?” She wiggled her bum a bit in his hands. “Let’s go swim hmm?” She suggested, thinking that if she was in the water then she would be covered up in theory. “It’s way too hot for me to be wearing anything else.”

“Fine. At least in the water they can’t eye you up.” Harry glared at a group of younger guys looking her up with a near snarl on his face. No way in hell. He didn’t know where exactly this type of possessiveness came from. He usually was quite cool and collected, only having his moments sometimes. But today it was ten times as bad. He was truly unsure as to why besides the fact that she looked fucking incredible. He walked with her to the pool and laughed when she decided to jump in without him, Harry following shortly after. This was someone’s fancy house party and they had a sick pool. One with a water fountain and one of those pool bars and shit. But Harry was more focused on getting to a place where he could be with her alone. Before they’d made it to the pool, she had her cover up on and talked to people, Harry’s arm around her shoulder. They’d met up here after a long day of classes and hadn’t seen each other all day.

Y/N pushed her hair back as she came up from underwater, adjusting her bikini top so that nothing was falling out before she swam over to Harry and took his hands. “Come deeper.” She mumbled, pulling him further into the deeper end of the pool where it was less crowded. She’d missed Harry today and though they were at a party, she felt like she could take a few minutes to spend some time with her man. They both worked really hard and whenever they had spare moments they always found ways to make them count. 

Once they were in too deep she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, tangling her hands in his hair to get it wet. Harry looked incredible like this, granted he always did. Y/N couldn’t help but think that part of it was because he was looking at her like she was the last meal on earth. She swore he hadn’t taken his eyes off of her since they got here.

“Look so good today. Always look phenomenal but... just have a glow.” Harry commented, feeling a sense of serene come over him while she had pet over his hair and got it wet. Harry moves them to a little shelf in the pool wall, perfect for him to sit on while she clung to him. “Been missin’ you all day, bunny. Wanted to kiss you first thing but, everyone else tries to steal your attention away.” He pouted. It was a needy day, which was pretty rare considering his natal chart, but it happened. Especially because he felt so stable with her. Never had he had an easier relationship. She made everything feel at ease. He really did love this girl. “Want to be selfish with you for a little bit. Can I have my kiss hello before someone comes n’ interrupts us?”

“Thank you, angel..” Y/N felt herself grinning wider and wider. She loved when Harry got like this. She loved seeing him get all soft and sweet and needy for her attention. Y/N knew most of the time I was her bugging him for his attention, but this was a welcomed change. “Mhm...“ She hummed, leaning in to press a sweet and gentle kiss to his lips. It wasn’t long before that one gentle kiss turned into a slow and steamy one. Y/N expected it though, continuing to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. The slight scratch of his facial hair was something that was new, but she didn’t mind. It just reminded her that Harry was growing into this beautiful man that she loved. She pulled back hesitantly, giggling as he chased after her lips and nuzzled her face in his neck. “Missed you...” Y/N mumbled against his skin, “Didn’t mean for people to steal me away... forgive me?” She licked at the most sensitive spot.

“S’okay. You’re just so desirable. Everyone wants to be around you. Don’t blame ‘em. But you’re mine.” Harry felt even more safe with the cover of the water to hold her ass, keep her close to him. The kisses on his neck had him sigh to himself. She loved to kiss and lick at his neck a lot,  thing between them both, something he loved too. He was incredibly sensitive there and he felt good whenever she decided to treat him to some affection there. “Sometimes I don’t like Sharing you with everyone. They know you’re mine but still look at you like you’re available n’ if I was a bit more aggressive I’d probably call ‘em out on it. But I’d rather sit and get kisses from you than get in a fight.” He sighed, leaning his head a bit to the side. “You have a good day otherwise?”

“Yeah?” Y/N smirked to herself, he’d rather get kisses from her than get in a fight. “You’re such a good boy, hmm.” She teased, nipping at his skin just a little bit. “I am yours, don’t have to worry so much. Know I’m only ever going to want you, yeah?” That much was true. She hadn’t even looked at anyone else the way she looked at him. He was everything she could ever want or need from a man and it seemed that he felt the same about her. They’d been together for a few years and yet they hadn’t really left that honeymoon phase. “My day was alright... same old stuff. ‘S better now though.” She hummed, clearly her mind was somewhere else. There was just something about Harry being so possessive and needy that made her feel desired... wanted... Honestly, that’s all a woman really needed to get turned on.

“Good.” Harry took her in and could read her face. It was obvious, because he knew her. She was aroused. Horny. Whatever you chose to call it, she was wanting touches and biting her lip, looking at him with a little bit of a lost look. It was then he decided to swim them over to the waterfall area, letting themselves get wet as they moved through it. Thankfully it was empty, a small area behind it went deeper and he felt the mischief light up in his eyes. 

“You’re shit at hiding when you’re horny.” He chuckled, pressing her against the wall of the faux cave. “Completely shit. You’ve got the drunk eyes and you keep stroking me.” It was making him smug as hell but he knew she wouldn’t really care. “What’s got you all turned on then?” He ran a hand under the water to grip her waist and tug her closer to him, adjusting their stance. “I’d like to know what’s goin’ on in my girls head.”

“Who said I was trying to hide it?” Y/N said as a matter of factly, looking up at him with those ‘fuck me’ eyes that she knew she was horrible at concealing. Wasn’t that the point though? Wasn’t the point for him to know whenever she needed him? He always took good care of it, she never had to touch herself. He was always there to help. She wished she could just strip them both naked in this pool, wished he would make a mess of her and make her feel breathless for the rest of the party. Y/N wasn’t opposed to doing things in public, they’d done it many times before. It was a different kind of rush. One she couldn’t explain. “Like when you get all protective of me..” Y/N told him, “like when you’re needy for me... makes me want to climb you like a tree.” She couldn’t be any closer to him at this point, that familiar throb appearing between her thighs. “‘s fucking hot.”

“Oh? Didn’t know you were so hard for me when I got possessive over you.” Harry smirked. It probably was because it was rare that he got so openly needy or annoyed at the attention she got because he wanted all of it. “M’glad you think it’s hot.” He found himself at her neck, returning the favor of kissing her neck. “But I can’t leave you all horny n’ not take care of you. What kind of boyfriend would I be?” He cooed. 

“A bad one...” Y/N hummed in response, letting out a happy sigh as he kissed at her neck. “but you’re the best...” She told him, leaning into him as his hands began to move. 

His fingers wandered south, finding the bit of swimsuit covering her cunt, smirking when he could hear her let out a shaky gasp. The water from the waterfall and the music and commotion from outside the party was loud enough that he wasn’t worried as long as they kept it down a decent amount. “Mm. That’s my girl, s’what I want. Do you want to cum?” He questioned, nipping a bit harshly at the joint of her jaw and neck.

“Yes. I want to cum. Please.” She pleaded in a whiny tone. “So bad, please... can I?” Y/N huffed, gripping a little tighter at his hair and feeling another shaky breath escaping her. She wanted relief. She knew he would give it to her, but how? Her free hand rested against his shoulder, that little bit of height difference making her quiver. There was just something about him looking down at her, all wet and hungry for her. His fingers tucked so perfectly between her folds. Even the slightest shift had her wanting to whimper. They were in public though, she needed to be quieter.

“Course you can, baby. M’not gonna let you suffer like this.” Harry murmured, pressing his fingers against her to rub a bit. Get her warmed up. To be honest, public shit got them both off. It did, and it was hot. He had taken her in the car, fingered her in a taxi (making sure to tip well), in many club or pub restrooms, as well as various other places. It was the rush. 

“Gonna let me make you cum in the pool? In front of all these people? Such a naughty little thing.” Harry chuckled under his breath. “Love when you get all dirty for me. Can’t even wait till we get home, jus’ wanna cum all over my fingers.” He rubbed over her clit a bit harder, licking over her jaw.

A squeak of pleasure came from her, her hips jolting forward to get more but he knew just what to do. Slow and steady, perfectly pressured movements against her most clit. It was perfect, but she became ravenous once she had a taste. “Thank you, daddy.” She breathed out, her hips starting to move in sync with his fingers. “Yes!” She squeaked out once again, giggling knowingly when he said he loved when she got all dirty. He had given her the nickname bunny for that reason. Y/N fucked like one. Hard and fast and needy. It was good for the both of them, he liked to tame and she liked to be tamed. “Wanna cum all over your fingers daddy, want to make a mess for you, like a good girl.” Y/N told him, biting down on her lip to hold back a moan. She was looking up at him, keeping eye contact as he moved his fingers and felt his cock begin to harden against her stomach. 

“Daddy...” She whined, brushing her front up against him just enough. Y/N felt overwhelmed with need, his fingers felt so good. She looked up at him and opened her mouth, sticking out her tongue just enough. He knew what it meant.

“Oh? My dirty lil’slut.” Harry grinned before he leaned over, spitting into her mouth. They didn’t do it every time, but it was an immediate cock tease when she wanted it. He loved her so much, especially because of how damn compatible they were. “Wanting me to spit into your pretty mouth n’ finger your cunt when all these people are around. Getting all wet because m’needy?” He let out a chuckle. “Course. You’re just my dirty girl. I love it so much.” He gripped her chin, opening her mouth again to see her eager tongue before he spit into her mouth again. She clenched and he could feel how hot it got her, pressing one finger in. A harsh whine came from her mouth, eyes closing, which had his attention. “Shhhh. Do you want them all to hear how much of a slut you are for me?” He asked, a bit condescending— he knew it made her wet— waiting for her to respond.

“No, daddy, I’ll be good.” Y/N whimpered quietly, feeling her cunt pulse at Harry’s words and actions. He always got her this riled up, it was never just a little bit. No, they were very much all or nothing but that made things extremely fun. “Please— don’t stop.” She whimpered out thrusting her hips forward. Y/N loved whenever he spat in her mouth. She felt like it was an unspoken dominance thing and it never failed to have her sopping wet. Of course they were in the water, but there was a clear difference between the water and her slick. Harry’s fingers moved so well, she knew she couldn’t have gotten any more soaked than she was. Another moan threatened to escape her but her own hand flew up to cover her mouth, biting down on the skin in an attempt to muffle the noise. She kept eye contact with Harry, feeling her knees growing weaker with every brush against that sweet sweet spot.

“Mmm.. I don’t know.” Harry cooed lowly. “I think you do get off on it. I think it makes you wet to think about everyone knowin’ how dirty you are.” He grinned, feeling her clench around his fingers again. Oh, yes. She absolutely did. They’d been together long enough for him to know exactly what she liked. “C’mon.” He breathed against her mouth as he fucked his fingers into her. “Admit it. Tell me how much you want them to know how dirty you are.” He was taunting her for sure but she seemed to like it, her soft little whine and whimper against his mouth as her hips bucked into his hand. When she hesitated, Harry let out a tut and shook his head, sliding another finger into her. “M’not asking again, baby. Tell me.” 

Her hand moved from her mouth to grip at his bicep for stability. Y/N whimpered against his lips, feeling the orgasm building within her stomach. Harry was doing it on purpose, he loved the power he held over her, knew that he had her in the palm of his hands all desperate for relief. Y/N was too scared to speak, she knew she couldn’t keep quiet for much longer especially with how perfectly his fingers were moving inside of her. She looked up at him blankly, letting out a pathetic closed mouth whine. 

“Yes, daddy! I do want them to know! I want them to know I’m a dirty slut for you!” She gasped at the feeling of now three fingers inside of her. “Make me feel so good, want everyone to know! Want everyone to know because they can’t have you! You’re mine.” Y/N was damn near tears at this point, bouncing in sync with his movements, begging to cum. “I’m so close daddy, please?”

“That’s my girl.” Harry grinned smugly. Harry loved making her admit those things, loved having her give in to him. A kink, maybe. Whatever that would be. “Cum for me. Let go.” He nipped are her skin, thrusting his fingers harder into her cunt and felt as she finally let go. His hand coming underneath her ass, holding her up as her body trembled and she let out the prettiest whine. There was nothing prettier than watching his girl cum. Nothing. “That’s it baby.” He continued thrusting his fingers in, curling them a bit to make her shudder. Keeping the orgasms going was the best thing ever, feeling her lose it on him.

Y/N felt like she couldn’t see straight, had proper stars in her eyes. Nothing could ever explain the true feeling of bliss that came after a release so sweet. She was panting, out of breath, trembling under his touch. Her eyes slowly closed as she attempted to catch her breath, fully leaning on him for stability. It was silent for a few moments, only the sounds of her heavy breathing, the water falling down, and the sound of the music. Y/N couldn’t have imagined it to have gone any better. She pressed soft kisses to his chest, listening to his heartbeat and feeling herself relax. 

“That was so good...” She mumbled against his skin, “so fucking good.” She let out a chuckle and moved her hands up to cup his cheeks, pressing a sweet and loving kiss to his lips.

“Mm. I love you, sweetheart.” Harry murmured, pulling his fingers from her and gently adjusting the bathing suit bottoms so she was covered again. There wouldn’t be much clean up thanks to the water. “Now.. how about we go off and grab some drinks? Yeah? Can sit in my lap while we dry off by the bonfire.” He suggested, brushing a bit of the wet hair from her face away. 

God, did he love her. Who knew having a bit of possessiveness would get them this far?

--------------------------------------------

A/N: This was very fun to write! we did get some requests to write some filthier stuff so consider this the beginning 😅and again, congrats to cass!! - n + d

let us know what you think!

masterlist 

#writing #majorharry20k #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry writing #harry styles blurb

[ihearthes]

Author: @ihearthes Pairing: Harry x Unnamed OFC Rating: Light Smut Word Count: 3500 Inspired by: @wanderlustwaving and “The Lady or the Tiger” by Frank Stockton

His eyes dart around the bar, seeking her. She has to be here. It’s tradition. Their tradition. January 1st. Every year. Sunset. Anguilla. The Four Seasons. 

Harry had booked this table nearest the bay a full year ago, confirming it in mid-June and again in early December. Sitting silently, his eyes shaded behind his sunnies, he watches the giant ball of fire as it descends into the water. Less of a sizzle than one would expect. Each sip of his Casamigos Blanco over ice is perfect. The sky lights up with oranges, reds, and yellows that are reflected on the clouds, resembling the Monet painting San Giorgio Maggiore at Dusk which he had viewed in Cardiff. A second version hangs in Tokyo at Bridgestone Museum, and he had been lucky enough to see it once. 

The longer he watches its descent, the more he realises that this sunset is different from the paintings he’d seen. His fingers itch for watercolours or acrylics even though he knows his amateurish strokes would never capture the beauty. Last year, the sunset had been underwhelming, the clouds obscuring rather than reflecting the colours. Their first year, he had been unable to believe what he was seeing. It had been stunning with the reach of the palette across the sky, like tendrils of smoke straining to hug the entire planet. Now he captures his journal from the extra chair, opening it’s leather binding to a blank page. Flipping back to the beginning of his journal, he finds a sketch of her leaning on the railing -- drawn from memory years after their first meeting. His mind casts backwards to the non-date that had launched this annual trip. 

“Wow.” The voice belongs to a woman who steps to the railing next to him, leaning forward and twisting her head to take in the full sunset. Glancing at her, he does a double take as he recognizes her. Holy shit. She’s even more stunning in person. 

“Oh, I’d give it a solid 8.5,” Harry’s calm voice is the opposite of his turbulent emotional state. 

“Seriously? It’s much closer to a 9.2.”

“You’ve lost your mind. It’s worthwhile, but not a 9.2,” he scoffs, shifting his body slightly closer to hers. He turns toward her, planting a single forearm on the railing as he observes her in her floral sarong that matches her bikini top. Her hair is bundled lazily on top of her head, and her tanned feet are encased in strappy sandals. Surreptitiously, he takes in her curves while she’s examining the sunset. 

Twisting her head quickly, she catches his eyes on her ass. Rather than blushing, he smiles at her instead, well aware that the dimple is doing it’s job appropriately. The live steel drum band starts a new song, and she boldly turns to him, holding out her hand. “Dance?”

He doesn’t respond verbally. Grasping her fingers, Harry wraps one arm around her waist, stepping into her and leading them in time with the music. When he twirls her rather expertly, she laughs, planting a hand on his chest and gazing up at him with what appears to be a phony bashfulness. 

“I didn’t know you could dance,” she laughs. 

“Clearly you’ve never seen me live on stage,” Harry smirks. 

She clucks her tongue, “Oh, but I have. I said what I said, Styles.”

Looking away from her, he can’t help the smile that breaks loose. Damn, she’s got moxie. And it’s intriguing and beguiling. 

“You’re here alone?” he wonders, his eyes roaming the outdoor space. It’s filled with strangers -- to him anyway. 

“Tonight only. Yes.” She twirls him, and he grins at the move. 

“Me too.” The soft words are spoken into her ear as he’s drawn her closer. “I like to spend the first night of the year reflecting on the previous year.”

“Isn’t that what New Year’s Eve is for?” she wonders, her voice breathy. 

“Nah. That’s for drinking and celebrating with friends. Today is for reflection -- looking backwards and forwards simultaneously.”

“Planning to conquer the world this year, Mr. Styles?” 

“Indeed.” Arching an eyebrow, he mimics a cartoon villain, drawing his pinky to his mouth. 

She slaps at his chest, and he desperately wants to kiss her in that moment. After all, they are flirting, aren’t they? 

“Are you going to offer me dinner?” she asks boldly. “And take me to your room afterwards?”

Woah. Definitely gutsy. “Depends,” he whispers as he spins them both around once more while the band winds down. 

“On what?” 

“On what kind of sushi you prefer.”

“Ah!” There’s a gleam in her eye that he can’t resist. She’s playful and not shy about being the seductress. Harry finds the combination heady. Waving her hand in dismissal as she turns towards his table, “I usually try whatever the newest offering is -- especially if it’s fresh from those waters.” Fingers waggle in the direction of the bay, and he wants to grasp them out of the air and wrap them protectively in his own hand. 

Instead, he applauds the band before following behind her. At the table, she drags her chair from the opposite side of the small round table until she’s sat beside him. With his questioning glance, she again gestures towards the bay. “I’m not going to miss that sunset just so I can stare at your pretty face.” 

Rather than sketching the sunset, he attempts to paint the current sight with words. Everything he writes seems trite: clementines, flames, majestic, radiant, blush, hearth.

Where is she? Yes, it had been a year since they had spoken, but surely she would have sent a message if she weren’t planning to join him? Why hadn’t they exchanged numbers? Followed each other on Instagram? 

But he knows why. The mystery. The transcendental experience. The enchantment of meeting once a year, incognito, in this particular and magnificent place. No knowledge of each other outside of this 24 hours that belongs to them alone. 

Which is ridiculous. Because he certainly knows who she is and follows her career. And he would be astonished if she didn’t also pay attention to his. A few times this last year they had coincidentally been in the same city simultaneously, and he had seriously debated trying to locate her. Contact her manager maybe. Or put out feelers that would certainly have stretched to her ears like an old-fashioned game of Chinese Whispers (which of course isn’t what he should call the game now; it’s racist). The message, though, would have been garbled but sufficient for them to meet up. 

Every time, he refrained. Their unspoken commitment was to this place and this one day a year. Now he regrets not making contact. Had she decided that one day a year wasn’t worth the effort? Was she even now canoodling with someone else? There hadn’t been rumours of any recent love affairs on her end, and he snatches his phone anxiously to search her name just in case she connected with someone during the last week.

Picking up his now-empty glass of tequila as he scrolls through his phone, Harry draws an ice cube into his mouth, swirling it on his tongue to relish every tiny bit of the liquor there. The burn has vanished as it’s taken him nearly an hour to drink one tequila. No record of any new beaus. Maybe he should follow her now on social media? DM her? What would he do if she didn’t show? How much longer should he wait? 

“Oh yum! This roll is even better than last year’s.” She proclaims as she rushes to grasp the last bite of the Ceviche Roll. 

“Hey! That was mine!” Harry protests, laughing as she stuffs the full piece in her mouth. 

“Order more,” she mumbles around the rice, fish, and seaweed flavored with citrus and cilantro. 

“Nah, I’ve got a different appetite now,” he murmurs, watching her lips as she chews the sushi. 

Freezing, her eyes rush to his, and she slowly finishes the sushi she’s been eating, swallowing slowly. He wishes that she would move her chair to his side of the table like she had the previous year. This time, they’re seated on opposite sides of the table, but at an angle where both can watch the setting sun. 

“What?” Her look has made him nervous. “You’re not going to tell me you’re seeing someone, are you?” 

Her hair twirls as she shakes her head. “No. Broke up with him last week in anticipation of this.”

Having sipped his tequila, Harry chokes at her words. Coughing, he grasps the table with both hands. Holy fuck. She didn’t really expect him to --

“Kidding!” Her giggle lights up her eyes, bringing a light blush to her face. She’s truly stunning. Maybe even more than last year. 

When her foot, sans sandal, caresses his calf under the table, he knows that the night is going to be filled with sex. Fun, hot, brilliant sex that will last most of the night. Hmm...perhaps it would be best to fortify himself for their escapades. Raising his hand, he flags down the server. 

“Sir?”

“Another Ceviche Roll, por favor. Plus a bottle of Casamigos.” He pauses as her foot makes its way further up his leg, and he wonders if she’s going to slide under the table completely. “Send it to my room, please.” Voice catching as her toes make contact with his crotch, he demands, “Put it all on my tab please. I’ll settle up later.” 

With a nod of agreement, the server disappears. Quickly Harry rises, adjusting his slacks as he glances around the room. 

“Let’s go,” his voice rumbles. 

“But H -- the sunset,” she whines. 

“My room has the same view,” he insists, holding out his hand which she grasps. Gracefully sliding her foot back into her sandal, she rises and glides behind him towards the elevator. 

His stomach rumbles at the thought of eating, and he debates ordering food. The sushi at the sunset lounge is always fresh. In the past, though, they’ve enjoyed the dishes together, trying new ones every year. Dejected, he places his glass harshly on the table, his disappointment at her absence radiating across his psyche like the colours of the sunset. 

“I would say it’s a solid 8.5,” her voice sounds from over his shoulder, and he twists in surprise. Like the sunset beckons the stars, she summons happiness to his soul. He scrambles to rise, kissing her on both cheeks, his lips lingering each time. Not too long, though, in case others are watching and photographing. Which he always assumes these days. Fans. Paps. No privacy exists anywhere. 

“Hi,” he whispers, grateful for her presence, but unable to say the words that would tell her how worried he’s been. That might reveal too much of his emotions. And his heart. 

Fuck. When had his heart gotten involved? And why hadn’t he realised before this particular moment? 

“You agree?” she smiles, gesturing to the sunset. 

“I would say it’s a 9 or maybe even a 9.2,” Harry smiles, his dimple making an appearance to rival the sunset in front of them. 

“You finished your drink,” she nods at his empty glass. 

“I started early.” It’s a lame excuse, and he knows it. 

His annual partner tilts her head in his direction. “Or maybe I’m late?”

Not knowing how to respond, Harry waits, his fingers playing with the coaster underneath his drink, spinning it around, the glass slowly rotating with the cardboard circle with the restaurant’s name on it. 

“I debated,” she whispers, “unsure if I should…”

The server appears, a smile on his face. His white trousers and white shirt are complemented by a blue scarf at his neck, his accent strong. 

“What can I get you?”

Harry notices the man’s gaze on his companion’s breasts which draws his own attention to the bosom swelling around the buttons of her frock, which he just now notices has sunflowers across the lower half of the skirt. Was that on purpose? 

When she exchanges a knowing glance with Harry and smoothes the fabric over her legs, it becomes clear that she knows exactly what she was doing by choosing this dress.

He shifts in his seat. 

“I’ll have what he’s having,” she announces. 

Harry reminds the server, “Two Casamigos on the rocks please. And your newest sushi roll with light brown rice please. Thanks.”

Nodding, his date agrees to the order, and he’s relieved that at least the basics haven’t changed in the last year. 

“You were saying?” he prompts as the steward moves away from them. 

“Oh,” she blushes, her cheeks tinging slightly pink. “I just...wasn’t sure…” She swallows, her head down before she makes eye contact with him, “that this was a good idea.”

Taken aback, Harry settles his bum more deeply in his chair, feeling blindsided by the comment, wishing he had his tequila to soothe him in this moment. “I see,” he mumbles. 

“Harry --” she begins, and he waves a hand in her direction. 

“It’s just casual,” he unceremoniously argues, “right?” But his heart clutches at the phrasing. 

Her eyes drop to her lap where her hands are entwined. “Yes. I guess.” Her whisper makes him sweat. Fuck. Had she decided this was it? The last time? “It’s a pretty sunset,” she adds.

“Absolutely,” he concurs, anxious at what else she might say. Silence descends on the table much faster than the stars appear in the sky above them. Should he be vulnerable? Tell her how he feels? What he’s thinking? 

This year’s live steel drum band begins a new song, and without pause, she rises, holding her hand out for him to grasp. Grateful for the reprieve, he joins her in their corner of the outdoor restaurant, placing one hand on her waist as she rests her head on his chest. Together, they sway, and his mind wanders.

“I need another lime!” she shrieks gleefully, holding the bottle of tequila in her hand. Harry shakes his head from his position flat on the bed. They are going to need clean sheets before they sleep tonight. Maybe they will go to her room for actual sleep? 

What the fuck is he thinking? As if they had actually slept during their rendezvous in the previous two years. 

“Here. Hold this,” she laughs, thrusting a lime towards Harry to place in his mouth, pulp out. 

“Mhm. Me next,” he mumbles just before his teeth wrap around the green rind.

“You bet,” she giggles. Settling herself on the bed as she straddles him, her soft parts landing on his cock encased in its bright green briefs. She slides down his legs and leans forward, holding the bottle of tequila out to the side. “Mmmmm.” Licking a stripe up from the base of his underpants to his navel, she sprinkles salt there before tilting the bottle of Casamigos and allowing a shot of tequila to land in his taut navel. He’d worked hard on his abs the last couple of months, knowing that he would be lying here with her. They’ve got definition that most blokes only dream of. 

Quickly, her tongue captures the salt before she sucks the tequila from his belly and shifts forward to suck the lime that’s in his mouth. Fuck. If he hadn’t been hard before they started this game, he’s certainly got a hammer between his legs now. 

As he releases the lime for her, she grips it in her teeth, leaning backwards in her bra and panties, her core now on his chest, and he can’t resist reaching out with a single finger and tracing a pattern over the treasure he knows is underneath. 

“You waxed for me this year,” he comments. 

“No,” she protests, “I waxed for me this year. You give great oral, and I wanted nothing to get in the way. It’s been far too long since my pussy has been properly eaten.” 

“Oh?” Harry’s eyebrow raises, as he knows a couple of people who she dated during the previous year. 

“Yep. I would say,” she smiles, leaning down to capture his mouth in a kiss, her lips hovering just above his, “about exactly a year.”

“Hey…” he begins as they finish their silent dance just as their drinks arrive along with the plate of sushi, but he’s interrupted. 

“Here are your drinks. Our newest sushi roll is the Hot Lover,” which makes Harry cringe and shift again in his seat. “It’s spicy tuna, shrimp tempura, and avocado wrapped in soybean paper.” 

As he places the food in front of them, Harry smiles sadly and nods as the gentleman fades away into the restaurant, like the sunset has drifted into the ocean. 

“You were going to say something?” she asks, and he loses all of his courage. 

Shaking his head, he grasps a piece of the sushi roll between his fingers, sliding it onto his tongue. 

“Not bad,” he comments as he chews, trying to tuck the food in his cheek so he’s not rude. 

“It’s really not got a lot of flavour,” she grins as she mimics his eating habit. “Kind of boring.”

Did she mean their relationship? Was this one of those double-entendres? Swallowing the fish and rice concoction, he sips his tequila as the sushi sticks in his throat. For some reason, he wants to cry. It makes no sense, but the tears come unbidden to his eyes. Fuck. Looking away, he sips more of his drink as he watches the remnants of the sunset fade away, blinking furiously. 

“I wanted to call you when we were both in New York this year,” he comments softly. 

Her fingers pause halfway to her mouth, the soybean-paper-wrapped piece of sushi hovering near her lips. Harry watches as she debates how to respond to his comment, finally placing the fish on her tongue and chewing slowly. Unable to draw his eyes from her mouth, he unapologetically watches as she savors the restaurant’s latest speciality. Eyes closed, she moans. Her hands clutch the table on either side of her, and Harry feels his mouth go dry. 

Once she devours the food, she sips her tequila on the rocks, and he can visualize her tongue swirling the liquid around as she either tries to clear the flavour of the fish or fully taste the liquor. After all, her tongue has done that same move to his most favored body part. When she finishes, she makes eye contact with him, her hands resting on either side of her plate, fingers curled. Taking a deep breath, she straightens her fingers flat without breaking eye contact. Fuck. He’s sweating. 

“Truth be told, Harry -- I desperately wanted to call you when we were both in Edinburgh that time.”

“Why didn’t you?” His words are faster than his brain, and he immediately wishes he could draw back the question. 

“You know why,” she replies, and he nods because he does indeed know all of the reasons. “The sunset --” Her attention is drawn to the colours in the sky, “is lovely, don’t you think?”

“Honestly,” he admits, “I would say this is the best one of all of the times we’ve sat here together.” The words make him cringe. He wants to keep things light, but something about the moment prevents fluff. It feels momentous. Overwhelming. 

He watches as her eyes stray from his to the sky before they tear up and she nods in agreement. “Yes, Harry. I would say this is the most breathtaking of the sunsets we’ve seen.”

Did that mean that this would be the last one? Neither of them is getting younger. Sooner or later, one of them will meet “the one”. And then where will the other be? Stuck on an island with a sunset alone? Fuck. He doesn’t want to be that person. But he truly doesn’t want that for her either. 

“It’s a sensational sunset,” Harry pleads, his eyes not leaving her face, not straying to the glorious colours, not denying that they have some chemistry together. Why hadn’t he made a play for her before now? Was a hookup enough? Would he be happy if this is the last one? 

“Harry,” she sighs, sipping her drink again. “I wonder ---” 

The band starts a new song, and he shakes off the sound, willing her to continue. A group at the table behind them sings ‘Happy Birthday’ while another table nearby bursts into laughter and somewhere a server drops a tray of glasses, the shattering drawing applause from a few assholes close to the debacle. Harry ignores all of it. 

“Yes? Go on,” he encourages. 

“Maybe…” she bites her lip, looking away from him towards the sunset. 

“Yes?” His throat is dry, but he doesn’t reach for his tequila or his glass of ice water. Instead, his gaze remains riveted on her. 

“Do you think that perhaps we could…” 

His breath catches in his throat. What would she say? Would she ask for some random sex act? Cancel their relationship permanently? Or possibly -- miraculously -- suggest that they celebrate more sunsets together instead of just once a year. He holds his breath, waiting impatiently. 

“I mean, it would probably be best if we...” 

A/N: Reblogs are love, my readers.  I appreciate the likes, but reblogs help others find the story and, quite frankly, encourage me to continue publishing here. 

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #my writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry fanfiction #original writing #harry styles imagine

[rosesgonerogue]

Finding Each Other (Again)

Chapter One

Masterlist

“Make way guys, out of the way!” Dick bellowed from the entrance of the batcave. “Alfred, we need you!” 

Marinette, jostled in his arms with every step, tried to liberate herself from her brother-in-law’s iron grip. “Calm down, I’m fine.” 

“No offense bug, but I just watched you get crushed by a steel beam. Alfred is checking you over.” 

“Tikki, spots,” Marinette said, as he deposited her on a cot. “See, not a bruise on me. I only jumped in to save that kid because I knew I would be fine. I’ve been eaten by a t-rex before, I was perfectly safe.” 

“You what?” Damian demanded darkly. 

“Dames! How was your patrol?” Marinette asked, grinning at the sight of her husband. 

“What just happened to you on patrol?” Damian demanded. 

“Dick is overreacting. I know it can be kind of… unsettling to see things like that, but the Miraculous suits are nearly indestructible. Only another Miraculous or some type of magic could hurt me while I’m suited up.” 

She leaned in to kiss Damian’s cheek, but his face was stone. 

“Are any of those Miraculous things up for grabs?” Jason asked, pulling off his helmet.

“Not for you,” Marinette scoffed. “And don’t worry, Dames. Dick is overreacting, the beam barely made contact with me. I was just making sure it fell safely.’ 

“Hold up, hold up,” Tim said, actually turning away from the computer. “You redirected a steel beam? Just with your strength alone? How strong does your suit make you?” 

“I haven’t actually ever tested it, that could be interesting,” Marinette contemplated, handing Tikki a cookie. “But I’m stronger than I was when I first started out as Ladybug.” 

“Part of it is because you’ve worked with me for so long - we’ve grown together. But you’re stronger than any other Miraculous use can be because you’re also the Guardian,” Tikki said. “Alfred, these cookies are amazing.” 

While Alfred began examining Marinette, he chattered with Tikki about his baking methods. Dick was telling an overly dramatized version of the night’s events while Tim theorized exactly what Marinette could be capable of. All that was missing was the last few members of the family, all occupied with their own business. Marinette leaned back on the examination table, content with the daily she’d married into. 

“-and if she were facing a metahuman with enhanced strength-”

“Drake, will you do us all a favor and shut your idiotic mouth?” Damian snapped, his voice dripping with acid. 

“That was out of line,” Marinette said, straightening up. “He’s just having fun, Damian.” 

“Just having fun? Were you just having fun when you threw yourself under a steel beam today? Or how about last week, when Killer Croc almost ripped off your leg?” Damian spat. “Oh, and the week before when your heart literally stopped because you stepped in front of Mr. Freeze?”

“Whoa, whoa, hang on,” Marinette said, standing to really face her husband. “That’s uncalled for, Dames. What’s with all of the hostility?”

“What’s with all of the hostility? Every week I have to see or hear about some way my wife almost died. You have absolutely no sense of self-preservation and that makes the rest of us worry about you, which makes you a liability.” 

“Excuse me?” she demanded, uncaring of the awkward silence between the rest of the family. “A liability? I know exactly what I am capable of, Damian Wayne. In case you forgot, I had a life and a hero career before you. Long before you.” 

“But this isn’t magical butterflies, Marinette, this is the real world!” Damian shouted, ripping off his domino mask. “People die here, and we don’t all have a Miraculous to save our asses. You rely on Tikki, but how do you know she won’t fail, or time out too early? Without her you’d be dead.” 

Marinette’s eyes were wide and burning with rage, but Tikki was the first to speak, her tiny body radiating with fury. 

“You have no idea what Marinette has gone through to get here. She is the most capable Ladybug and Guardian that I’ve ever seen, and that means more than you’ll ever know.” 

Looking back at his wife, Damian could see more hurt than anger in her eyes. He felt a pang now that his panic from hearing Dick’s story had died down, but it was too late. When he should have expressed concern and care for his wife, he’d let anger take over. A firm stubbornness rose in him, and when his wife’s eyes met his, he levelled his gaze at her, unwilling to take his words back. 

Glaring at him, when she spoke Marinette’s voice was thick with unshed tears. “Well, I formally apologize for the liability I’ve been all this time. If you’ll excuse me, I have commissions to work on.”

She shoved past him, leaving the silent Wayne clan behind. Her back was straight and her stride was measured - none of them could have guessed that silent, angry tears ran down her cheeks. Outside the weather was terrible, the wind howling through Gotham’s streets. 

Walking silently for blocks, Tikki flitted around her nervously, using the terrible weather as a cover - not that there was anyone really on the streets to notice her. Finally the two ducked into an alley where Marinette collapsed against a brick wall. 

“He’s wrong, Marinette,” she finally said indignantly. “Damian’s worried for you, but he also has no idea what it takes to hold a Miraculous.” 

“Am I just a liability, Tikki?” Marinette asked, running a hand through her hair. “Am I just making things worse for the entire family?” 

“Marinette, no! You’ve saved them plenty of times, and don’t you dare wonder if I’m what makes you special. We’ve been together for so long because you’re special,” Tikki said firmly. 

The Guardian sniffed, sagging a little. “Thanks, Tikki. I guess I really should go work on those commissions like I said I would, which means I need to go home.” 

“Only after you’ve eaten the rest of Damian’s favorite ice cream,” the kwami said. 

“After all of the morality speeches you gave me in Paris, I had no idea you had this mischievous streak in you. I think Plagg is finally rubbing off on you after all of these centuries.” 

Tikki smiled. “Only when someone hurts my Ladybug.”

Smiling faintly herself, Marinette pushed herself up while Tikki situated herself in Marinette’s purse. Talking to Damian wouldn’t be fun, but they would figure things out - they always did. Besides, they only fought because her husband was worried for her wellbeing. So, Marinette made her way towards their home, one of the safest neighborhoods in all of Gotham. She could almost see the old Colonial-style house when they saw a woman standing on the sidewalk. 

She was just standing there under the streetlamp, the light emphasizing how angular her features were, if not exaggerating them. With the way the woman stared at Marinette, it was clear that she would speak to them, and there was really no way to get home without crossing the woman’s path. As much as she didn’t want to, Marinette decided to bite the bullet and speak first. “Excuse me, Madame, can I help you?”

Nothing in her posture changed, but glittering eyes assessed Marinette critically. “So you’re the little French fashion designer? I can’t say I’m impressed. I always had much… higher aims for my son.”

With those words Marinette felt her blood freeze in her veins. So this was Talia al Ghul. She’d heard stories of the woman, but she always hoped not to become involved with her at all. 

She couldn’t back down. Marinette met her mother-in-law’s eyes without flinching, hand snaking to her back pocket for her phone. 

“Don’t try it, little girl. You and I are going to play a game. It’s called ‘how much does Damian love you?’”

“It’s tempting, but I think I need to pass,” Marinette said. 

At that, Marinette viciously kicked forward, hitting Talia right in the knee. She didn’t try to watch the result, sprinting forward with all of her energy - she only had to make it to-

There was a sharp prick in the back of her neck, and Marinette felt her legs give out from underneath her. She heard Talia limping over. 

“Maybe you’re not completely hopeless, but you were never going to win this. Now let me explain the rules of the game to you.” 

Marinette wanted to protest, to scream until someone came, but she couldn’t even prop herself up on her arms. Even more alarmingly, black was slowly overtaking her vision. 

“Dear little Damian has a month to find you. If he doesn’t, I get to kill you and use it as a means to get the information I need. Now sleep well, darling. You’ll need it.” 

Taglist: 

@tbehartoo @kris-pines04 @thesunanditsangel @constancetruggle @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @rosalineandrosemary @novicevoice @momothefemur  @theymakeupfairies

Note: Hey guys, I know it’s been FOREVER since I posted anything. I just finished my first semester of grad school, and it was a bit overwhelming to say the least. Oh, I also have a boyfriend now. That’s new, and he does tend to take up some time. But I’m not abandoning my other stories, I just wanted to try something a little different. Long term this is going to be cute, and it’s going to have some hurt/comfort vibes. I know this is really different from what I usually write, so tell me what y’all think. The taglist is open if anyone wants to be added, just leave a comment below and ask to be tagged! 

#daminette #maribat #this is kinda dark but i promise it's gonna be cute in the end #tw kidnapping #i know i usually do fluff and ridiculous stuff but this is what i get for starting grad school in 2020

[notcanoncompliant]

I See You

So I finally got the writing bug again. This is pretty much PWP. It’s decent, I hope those of you who are into this stuff are into this fic. lol

Trigger Warnings: blood, implied cannibalism, non-con.

The FBI has been after Anthony Stark, serial killer-slash-mob enforcer, for a long time. Peter, special agent and analyst, dips into places he shouldn’t. There are consequences.

And away we go...

*************************************************

“Good morning, Starshine.”

Peter tries to swallow, his mouth and throat fuzzy from whatever had been used to knock him out, his head stuffed up and aching. 

He opens his eyes, winces at the light. Shuts them. 

His wrists are secured together high above his head, and everything is cold, chilly air on bare skin--bare. God. He’s naked; stuck in stirrups, strapped down. But, aside from the headache and the discomfort of waking up in bindings and completely exposed...he doesn’t hurt.

He lifts his head, forces himself to squint in the light at the figure standing off to the side.

“What did you give me?” he asks, voice thick.

“Standard knock-out cocktail. Painless,” says that familiar voice.

Peter swallows again, drops his head back against the headrest of the chair and shuts his eyes. “Thanks for that, I guess,” he rasps.

A soft, familiar chuckle issues from the right side of the room. He’s too tired to look. 

He drifts in and out for a little while longer in the wobbling in-out of slowly returning consciousness. 

Footsteps click behind him and then further back. A quiet humming lilts through the air, and then the rush of water--a sink--and the sound of something being filled. More footsteps, this time growing closer along with the humming.

Something pokes at his lips, and he opens without thought.

A straw.

He sucks, moans at the cool rush of water down his parched throat.

“Good boy,” the figure says.

Peter shivers involuntarily at the praise, heat curling lazy-sweet in his gut. Danger, a deep part of him whispers. 

He takes another pull of water and then the straw slips from between his lips.

He opens his eyes.

Anthony “Tony” Stark moves away to stand off to the right, setting the glass of water down on the desk and sitting back against the edge. The enforcer looks good; dressed to the nines as he was in every fruitless interrogation video on record, a suit that probably costs as much as Peter’s rent, goatee immaculate, thick salt and pepper hair styled in a casual mess. He watches Peter with a pleasant look on his face that doesn’t match the emptiness of his pitch-dark eyes.

The room is small, an office, maybe. They’re in a warehouse; through the window behind Stark, Peter can see closed bay doors, concrete and metal and beams and silent, unmoving machinery. A quick glance around the immediate room tells Peter there’s no tray of instruments, nothing lined up on the desk. Nothing to do the kind of rip-and-tear damage Peter had seen in any of the crime scene photos. 

“You look confused, Pete,” Stark says. “Were you expecting something?”

“I’m just well-versed in your usual, and this isn’t it,” Peter says. He tugs a little at the bindings around his wrists--leather. Stiff, but exponentially more yielding than the steel cuffs that left cuts and torn skin around the wrists of the bodies in the morgue, in the photos. 

Stark smiles, and cold trickles down Peter’s spine. “You’re a special case.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“You got a little too close, all on your own.” Stark smiles again, looks...proud. “A real go-getter. You’ve got enemies in high places, Petey-pie. Kept poking your nose in all the wrong places.” He shrugs. “Or the right ones, as it were.”

The first unpleasant sensation prickles through whatever it is Stark gave him (definitely not standard knock-out; an unsurprising lie), and his stomach sinks.

Someone did this. Someone sent him right into the jaws of the monster--why ‘jaws’, why do jaws matter--and now he’s going to die in some creative way, some way that doesn’t include scalpels or knives or cattle prods or any of the endless list of horrifyingly inventive tools Anthony Stark has allegedly used to ruin human beings.

That ‘someone’ was probably--most likely--Rumlow, head of the task force and a first-class asshole. He’d warned Peter not to get involved, and Peter hadn’t listened, because...well, because he noticed the inconsistencies in the original ME reports versus what was included in Stark’s official dossier, inconsistencies made all the more suspicious by how tightly the originals were locked down. 

Maybe Peter had ‘noticed’ them when he’d ‘stumbled upon’ the confidential files.

Maybe Rumlow noticed. Maybe someone above Rumlow noticed.

And now Peter’s shoulders ache from how his arms are suspended and there are straps wrapping his thighs and calves, keeping his legs spread in the stirrups of this medical chair.

“What are you going to do to me?”

Stark tuts. “Boring. Try again.”

Peter wets his lips nervously. “Do you take requests?”

“Better.” Stark pushes off from the desk, and comes to stand in front of him. “And no. But you’re free to beg for whatever you want.”

“Boring,” Peter says, a touch breathless, real fear finally beginning to worm its way through. “You know I’ll beg at some point.”

Stark smirks. He walks back to the desk, pulls a rolling stool out from underneath and moves it between Peter’s spread legs, shucks his jacket and tosses it onto the desk. He begins meticulously rolling his sleeves up to his elbows.

“Tell me something,” Stark says as he sits down, rolls a little closer. “Why would someone send a pretty little hacker into the jaws of death?”

Peter winces at the phrase, twitches back away from Stark’s nearness before he can catch himself. Too many sensitive parts on display, too close to that shark-like smile.

“Analyst,” Peter corrects inanely. “And I don’t know why you’re asking, why do you ca--fuck, okay,” he gasps, a bolt of pure panic shooting, short and electric, through his limbs at the sudden grip of Stark’s hands high up the backs of his thighs. “Okay. I saw some things and I knew they were wrong and I guess I went to the wrong people.”

“What was wrong?” Stark asks, faux-curious, trailing his thumbs back and forth along the sensitive inner skin of Peter’s thighs. His gaze is dark, flat, fixed on Peter’s eyes instead of all the flesh in front of him, and Peter can’t tell at this point whether that’s a (relatively) good thing.

“They...fudged the ME reports,” Peter says. “Doctored the photos.” He struggles not to squirm when Stark’s hands slide down to his ass. “They…”

Peter freezes. “They know who you are,” he breathes. “They know. They hid the marks because they know, and they…”

“They like to toss me a good meal every now and again,” Stark supplies casually.

That’s why there are no tools. No knives, no blades. Stark’s smile is a weapon, and Peter is beyond fucked. 

Maybe it’s the drugs, maybe it’s just the intensity of the understanding, but Peter can practically see blood between those immaculate teeth, painting Stark’s lips. Can see those teeth cutting, pulling, ripping, tearing, chewing-- 

The grip on his ass tightens, and he lets out a strangled sound when Stark’s eyes drop from his in favor of the places between Peter’s legs.

“They gave you to me for disposal, Mr. Parker,” Stark says, distractedly. “A pretty little troublemaker about to throw a wrench in all their plans.” He leans in, and Peter jerks at the brush of lips against the inside of his right thigh. “I should send them a thank you card.”

Those lips part and teeth scrape Peter’s skin, not nearly hard enough to break through, but roughly enough to startle him into trying, futilely, to pull away.

“I can make it all disappear,” Peter blurts. “I’ll wipe everything. Every file, every scrap of anything that has anything to do with you. I could do it from my phone, right now.”

“Mm. I know you can,” Stark murmurs. He kisses Peter’s thigh again, squeezes his ass. Smirks up at him. “My job isn’t all wetwork. I know all about you, Peter.”

When he leans in toward the center, towards Peter’s most sensitive places, Peter squirms in earnest, leather straps biting into his limbs, across his middle. “No, wait, please--”

And then all he can do is moan, startled and loud, when Stark dips down between Peter’s cheeks and kisses him, open-mouthed, tongue thick and hot and wet, probing at Peter’s hole, alternating between long, dragging sweeps and penetration, slick muscle working its way inside Peter’s body.

“What the fuck,” Peter gasps, yanking downwards, flinching and struggling between the sharp tug at his wrists and the non-stop stimulation of Stark’s mouth. “What the fuck are you--oh, God, stop, you can’t--don’t, please,” he begs, tears springing to his eyes.

It feels good, scary good, his hips arching and bucking to the extent allowed by his bindings, but that all encompassing pleasure is going to stop at some point and turn to unimaginable pain and terror. 

Images flash through his mind--the real photos; missing pieces, torn flesh, the mangled crescents he couldn’t--hadn’t wanted to believe--were bitemarks--

Stark drags his tongue from Peter’s tailbone over his hole and laves attention on Peter’s balls with a loud, satisfied groan.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he growls, grinning up from between Peter’s legs. Peter makes a high sound, a whine, at the sight of those teeth so near his thinnest skin. Stark nuzzles at his sack, sucks one of Peter’s balls into his mouth, rolls it around and releases it, takes in the other for the same treatment.

Still no pain. Still nothing but sparking heat prickling through Peter’s hips, low in his spine, his body aching for more even as tears free themselves and roll down his cheeks. He squeezes his eyes shut and slams his head back against the chair, unwilling to keep looking down at his traitorous cock, jutting up stiff and leaking on his stomach. 

“Please,” Peter says, voice cracking. “Please don’t--” he cuts himself off, bites down on the words. Please don’t hurt me. Please don’t stop.

“Peter,” Stark croons, pressing a soft kiss to the base of Peter’s cock. “Baby. Sweetheart. Light of my life.” Peter flinches and moans, low and frightened, at the press of teeth against his erection, faint, sharp pressure. “Look at me.”

Peter swallows, steels himself, and looks down his body.

“I lied,” Stark whispers conspiratorially, breath washing warm across Peter’s stomach

The fluorescent light flattens everything, brings out the shadows in Stark’s eyes and the faint hollows under his cheekbones, monstrous and hard and beautiful.

“No one sent you to me.”

Peter stares, uncomprehending--unwilling to comprehend. “What?”

Stark smiles, slides his hands around to pet and squeeze the tops of Peter’s thighs. 

“You’re here because I wanted you here. You’re here,” he kisses the tip of Peter’s cock, and to Peter’s shamed arousal, it twitches, a bead of precome leaking and rolling down the shaft, “because you’re better than all of the idiots who believe they have me cornered. My pretty little hacker, my little genius. Scooped up by the Eff. Bee. Eye.”

“Wha--” Peter starts to ask again, numb, but Stark sucks him down.

Down, down, into the hot, tight, pulsing heat of his throat, down to hell and farther, past any hope of return. Lost in the dark, reverent satisfaction of Stark’s gaze, and the stretch of Stark’s lips around his cock.

When the sharp edges of those perfectly straight, perfectly terrible incisors close around the base of his flesh, press in hard enough to hurt, Peter comes with a choked cry, straining against his binds.

Stark sucks and licks him through it, brushes open-mouthed kisses the slick, too-sensitive head until Peter twitches and moans from too much.

When Stark releases him, nuzzling at Peter’s trembling thighs like a lover, murmuring sweet, possessive nothings into his skin…

...Peter might as well have died here, in this warehouse. Lost, consumed. Gone.

“You’re mine, Peter Parker,” Stark says softly, watching him with pleased, victorious heat. “You have been from the moment you cracked the encryption on those reports. You saw me. And I saw you, sweet thing. I see you.” He smiles. “And I’m never giving you back.”

Peter stares down at him, breath slowing as the sweat begins to cool on his body. Slack against the chair, shoulders aching, muscles twitching from exertion, he gives up.

He nods.

*********************************************

Everything Tag List:

Feel free to untag yourself or request not to be tagged!

@the-amazing-spidertwink, @silkystark, @starkercrossedlovers, @hoeforthegays, @problematic-sofatini, @starkeroverlord, @starker-reader, @mrstark-please, @aoifelaufeyson, @fastenyourseats, @starkerhowlter, @smidnite, @starkeristheendgame, @readysetstarker, @awesomeimportantfan, @darker-soft-starker, @vanillapeter

#starker #starkerflowers fic #tony stark x peter parker #ironspider #nff #tw: noncon #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: cannibalism #dark!Tony #FBI!Peter #serial killer!Tony #cannibal!Tony

[ayuki-ikuya]

Fellow Piers simp with a trainersona here and a separate oc with Rai: ✨Go for it homie✨ Go absolutely ape! Tell us about her

OKAY

so I've tried doing research about Johto before writing about her since I have little information about Johto.

Johto is based off from Japan (it's more eastern qualities) while Kanto was a more westernized Japan (if you watched Geisha, it shows the transition from Japan transitioning to more western style after the war.)

So the name Katsumi was given. I believe her name meaning is "eternal beauty" but I'm not sure.

If I were to describe Katsumi, she'd be a Ninetales or a Fox. She has this air about her that draws her in, it's soothing even. But as she battles, she's more two faced than she seems, being more mocking and maybe even animalistic than her kinder self.

She does restrain herself from her more dark side, because a common rule as a maiko and geisha, is to always look and be pretty to capture the attention of others.

Katsumi is based off from the Kimono Girls in Johto, the Kimono girls are actually Maiko's as they tie their obi's sash long while normal is tucked in or tied short (same with a Geisha's) however, in Pokemon, they don't wear heavy makeup that way they can battle appropriately while still maintaining looks.

Since I'm basing Katsumi from Maiko's, she learns various arts, from dance to music to cooking. And of course, even when away from Johto, she still practices dancing (she prefers dancing over music) which has caught several pokemons attention in the past.

Her Johto team consists of:

Lucario

Gyrados

And Chansey.

Her Galar team will be:

Gyrados (from her Johto team)

Eevee (who will evolve into Umbreon)

Deino (who evolves into zwelious then Hydregion)

Munchlax (evolves into Snorlax)

Kirlia (evolves into Gardevior)

And Puncham (evolves into Pangoro)

I won't disclose when she catches them (which will be in the story I'm writting) nor their abilities and move sets. I can tell you that Katsumi favors Dark Types.

Katsumi makes her first appearance in the Gym Battle Opening Ceremony! Her exotic looks catching many of the people's attention.

Having to fight the Yell team since they were blocking Budew Inn, she does her first official Pokemon Battle in Galar with her Gyrados who swept them away with Twister!

Katsumi calls out her pokemon rather eloquently. Like, "Let's dance amongst the water, Gyrados", Katsumi is a lover of drama and theatrics, so she likes to put on a show which is apart of her two faced-ness.

If I were to place Katsumi as a Game Character, she'd be an Easter Egg and a very Hidden Boss. The main Characters wouldn't be able to fight her unless level 100 as the final boss is also level 100, meaning she's far more challenging than she looks in the beginning.

You'd be able to fight her in the tournaments after becoming a Galar Champion (beating Leon) but because she makes rare appearances, it's hard to fight her. If Leon and Katsumi ever get matched up, it usually ends in either Katsumi winning or a draw depending on ALL of your Pokémon level. (All 100 = Katsumi winning)

Her relationships would mostly be the children of the house she moved to as a tenant (which is in the same place for the Opening Ceremony hence why she hasn't caught any other pokemon in Galar yet)

Katsumi prefers pokemon over people. People means maintaining herself to appear appropriately and having to be more polite than she wants to do to etiquette. While with pokemon, she can bond with them more easily through being herself (her more rougher side).

As for her league cards, she has two special league cards which is dependent on which version you're playing.

Sword version is her more wild side, showing her face during her battles (more on Leon or Raihan's battle since her face shows more during their fight)

Sword version notes: seeing the ever so gentle Johto girl being fierce to rival Raihan is an odd sight, but pleasant to finally see a crack in her ever so pretty mask.

Shield version gets her more softer side, showing her dancing in a field without knowing about the picture.

Shield version notes: A picture that was taken in secret, you can see how gentle she is with how she stands, the pokemon around her watching her still form. How can someone be this elegant?

Her normal League Card is just the standard card but she angles herself towards the left (our left mind you) with her head angled towards the camera with a serene smile.

As for her relationship with Raihan and Piers, Raihan was intrigued by her, knowing the Dragon Type master in Johto, and seeing her appear on Pokegram every once in awhile (until she got Kirlia) sends a shiver down his spine since he can sorta get a feeling that she's hiding more than she seems.

Piers never met her, but has heard of her from Team Yell and Marnie when they met up in Spikemuth. When Katsumi appeared herself, he nearly choked seeing a "Pretty lil' dainty thing in this dump". his words, not mine. But because Piers oh so happens to be a dark type gym leader, Katsumi had immediately grew attached to him which shocked a lot of people.

Katsumi, the goddess from eastern lands, paired with THE Piers? The shock was an understatement.

Piers did appreciate her adoration to dark type pokemon though. And her need to be on the same level as him in battle as it was the Johto way to be fair.

If we wanna dive into the romance interests then:

Raihan is absolutely clingy to Katsumi and always wants to fight her. It's his way showing how devoted he is to her by challenging her to fights often after training and resting. And he hopes Katsumi would notice. If we went into a more NSFW style, Raihan is the epitome of clinginess. Because he's so tall compared to Katsumi, he'd use his jacket and put it over her, forcing her to either poke her head out to see or to try and escape which ends up him wrapping his arms around her. And when he does capture her, Raihan would drag her to a more secluded area and start marking her neck with bites and hickies. If he gets REALLY worked up (specially after a battle against Katsumi) he'd take his coat off, wrap it around her, tie the sleeves and then sling her onto his shoulder and with his long ass legs, he'd be heading to his apartment.

For Piers, he's not really affectionate or seen as affectionate, but he would often be near Katsumi whenever they were both free. Whenever he is affectionate he'd wrap an arm or two around Katsumi and bring her closer to him. For NSFW, Piers would be slightly clingy, but not as bad as Raihan since Piers is busy with being an artist (music artist btw) and training Marnie to be a gym leader. But whenever they're together, Piers would be resting his head on Katsumi's shoulder or head depending on their sitting position. Anytime Katsumi gets a call or goes to escape somewhere, Piers would grab a hold of her chin and kiss her rather passionately, which would leave Katsumi breathless since Piers literally has a long tongue, and he uses it. If Katsumi is still out of it (or continues to try to escape), Piers would take her to his place or to the campsite.

Katsumi has long black hair which reaches to her lower back, having four beauty marks total on her face, two right below her right eye (our left), one below her left eye (our right) and one at the right corner of her lips (our left).

(I think of drawing as a mirror, if you draw a character's face you have to think about the blemishes placement. If their back is to you, then it's both of your rights and lefts while facing each other is their left is your right and their right is your left. Sorry if it's confusing.)

She has black eyes (whenever in an intense battle, her eyes darken with no highlight making her appear soulless but it just means her facade is cracking) and thick eyelashes, her lips are painted red on her bottom lip while the corners of her eyes are touched with a rouge since she is a Maiko Trainer.

(I made up that Kimono Girls are Maiko Trainers, meaning they wear less makeup and have a battle/formal kimono, a traveling kimono and sleep wear. Normal Maiko's wears the standard makeup and wears more formal kimono's. Maiko trainers require to wear a sort of eye shadow at the corner of their eyes in replacement for the lack of white makeup on their face, it is to signal other Maiko's what status they are. If they wear red/rogue eye shadow, then they are an advance/master maiko trainer. If blue, then they are an intermediate. If pink then they are a beginner. Maiko trainers also have to wear certain color palettes to signal what stage they are which often correlates to their eye shadow. Since Maiko's in general wear lighter colors, they wear pastels or just a light shade.)

Katsumi wears a light pink kimono that fades to a light red at the ends of her kimono. Her obi sash being a deeper red while her obiage is white. Her nagajuban is red as per tradition, her pocchuri buckle is silver flowers, while her okobo shoes still maintains the red straps and still contains bells in them.

Fun fact about Maiko's, Maiko's are usually 16-20 years old mainly because Maiko's would choose to marry around that age, while Geisha's would have to retire or runaway (depending on time period) to marry. Geisha's aren't allowed to have a spouse, the most they can have close to a spouse is an escort.

THIS IS ALL FOR NOW! I'LL PUT UP SOME DOODLES ABOUT KATSUMI (WITH AN OCCASIONAL RAIHAN/PIER OR TWO)

#pokemon oc #pokemon johto #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon

[twink-appreciation-posts]

Attention - Spencer Reid x Reader (+ unnamed female lol)

Request:

having a threesome with spencer and another girl. u talk to him about it and he is a little nervous but agrees. u and spencer set ground rules, one being he wont have full on sex w her. she is more there for u. he is happy watching yall go at. once he joins its more of u going down on him while she goes down on u and then he fucks u while u eat her out. it is purely sex and nothing else. she leaves yall cuddle.

warnings: 3some, degradation, kinda lowkey spanking a lil bit, idk my typical writing style

You had planned tonight meticulously. You set boundaries, had plenty of lengthy conversations, and it was finally paying off. It had taken Spencer awhile to warm up to the idea of a threesome when you suggested it and you understood why. But you trusted and loved Spencer, and you assured him of that, and he felt the same way about you. You agreed on certain ground rules and figured out a dynamic that would keep everyone happy and you were more than excited to see how things would play out.

When the girl had come over there was certainly some awkward tension, but it quickly dispersed when you began to let your instincts take over, and everyone seemed pretty into it once your lips were on hers. You were both sitting on your bed in only a bra and panties, your hands wandering around to feel any exposed skin you could find, fingers ghosting over her hips and thighs. Spencer watched as you began to melt into the kiss, tongues melding together, and you could already tell he was enjoying himself. She pulled away, lips moving to work on your neck, and you met Spencer’s eyes, a slight smirk forming on your lips. You glanced down, seeing that he was already growing hard beneath his pants, and you let out a soft moan. You moved your hands behind her back, quickly unclipping her bra, and you began to run your fingers over her hardened nipples, pinching gently. Her breathing became heavy, soft sounds of pleasure reverberating against your body as she continued to mark you. After a few moments Spencer couldn’t take it anymore, walking up to you from behind and running his hands down your body, grinding himself against your ass gently, letting out a soft groan in your ear. “I know you love this, don’t you baby? You’ve always been such a needy little slut, I’m sure you love all the attention.” He whispered darkly, and you nodded quickly, pressing yourself against him even more. You were in heaven, sandwiched between two people who were high off of arousal and desire. You felt hands tugging on your bra, unclipping it with ease and allowing it to fall onto the bed. Your hands were tangled in the girl’s hair, head falling back against Spencer’s chest as she began to suck and bite your newly exposed skin.

“Fuck…” you breathed out softly. You turned your head slightly to look at Spencer. He was watching the way your body reacted to the stimulation like it was the most infatuating thing he had ever seen. The way your back arched when she took your nipple into her mouth. You took one of his hands in yours, guiding it to your other breast, and he wasted no time massaging the flesh roughly in his hands. He moved forward a bit, beside you now, and used his free hand to grab your jaw, turning it towards him before leaning in and kissing you deeply. Your hands were exploring under his shirt now, tracing his muscles and landing right above the seam of his pants. He took the hint, backing away to take them off.

You took the opportunity to focus your attention on the girl in front of you, placing a hand on her face and ravishing her in another kiss. It was sloppy, lust-filled, your bodies both moving in synch. Her hand started to wander down your body, resting against your panties, and you began to grind into it, craving friction. You only pulled away when you felt Spencer return to your side next to the bed, fully naked now. You bit your lip as your eyes scanned his body.

“Why don’t you show me what that pretty little mouth can do?” He questioned, and your tongue swiped over your bottom lip in anticipation. You turned towards him, on your knees, and he chuckled. “Don’t worry baby, I’m sure you’ll get your fair share of attention as well.” He assured you. You felt the girl behind you and before you knew it Spencer was pushing your upper body down, leaving you on all fours. You felt a finger trailing up and down your thighs and then a single, wet kiss pressed against your panties. You shuddered in pleasure, mouth open in pleasure, and Spencer took the opportunity to thrust himself into your mouth, one hand gripping your hair for stability and control. You knew what to do, tongue immediately swirling around the tip of his cock, slowly taking him in inch by inch. The girl was pulling your panties down now and she pressed a second, longer kiss against you, except this time there was no fabric to be found. You were moaning around Spencer, the sensation causing him to roughly buck his hips, and you held back a gag. Her tongue was flicking in and out of you now, occasionally stopping to move up to your clit and suck on the sensitive bud. You were bobbing your head as best as you could, trying to focus on Spencer while the pleasure overtook your body, but it wasn’t easy. Spencer didn’t seem to mind though, taking it as an opportunity to set the place, the hand in your hair pushing and pulling you quickly. You could already feel your orgasm building, especially as you felt fingers rubbing circles against your clit and her tongue delved in and out of you at a merciless pace. It wasn’t too long before your moans were only being suppressed by Spencer’s rough pace as you took him deeper into your throat. When your climax came your cries were muffled, body shaking as the girl held your hips in place, not letting up her pace as you came all over her tongue. “See, I told you you wouldn’t be neglected.” Spencer groaned through gritted teeth. He slowed down a bit as the girl finally pulled away, breathing heavily. “Why don’t you return the favor?”

You didn’t need to be told twice, turning around, still gasping for breath from Spencer, and watched as the girl licked her lips, swollen and pink. You leaned in, kissing her gently, and then gently pushed her down onto the bed. You leaned down, upper body resting in between her legs, making a trail of kisses from her cleavage down to her stomach, eyes flickering up to meet hers as you ventured lower, spreading her legs wider and deciding to leave your own purple bruises on her inner thighs. She moaned, a sound that only encouraged you to continue, and you moved closer to the fabric of her panties. Soon you felt the warmth return behind you, a large hand coming down on your ass roughly, causing you to jump a bit. “You’re so fucking pretty like this, baby,” Spencer cooed, his hand massaging and soothing the area of skin he had just irritated. “I can’t wait to fuck this tight little pussy while your face is buried in between her legs.” You felt a finger running up and down your panties, pausing on your clothed clit. You moaned against the girl’s thighs, causing her to buck her hips up in pleasure. You ran your hands under her thighs, positioning her knees so that they were bent, giving you more room and better access. You were becoming impatient, lust building in your stomach, and your fingers hooked themselves around her panties, pulling them down her legs just enough to where you could lean down and press your tongue against her clit. She was soaking wet but you couldn’t judge because you were too, your tongue lapped at the juices, running slowly up and down from her entrance and back up to her clit. She was moaning louder now, hands digging into your hair and tugging at the roots. “Good girl,” Spencer praised, beginning to rub your clit in fast circles, one hand on your hips to keep your ass in the air and properly displayed for him. You whimpered in pleasure as he pushed your panties to the side. “Do you want me to fuck you?” He teased, and you felt the tip of his cock running up and down your slit. You moaned loudly in response, in turn causing the vibrations to surge through the girl’s body, her own moan almost drowning yours out. Spencer must’ve gotten the message because before you knew it he was pushing himself inside of you, letting out a load groan of pleasure as he did. One of your fingers began to swirl around her entrance, just barely penetrating before you pulled it away, and she let out a strangled cry, begging for more stimulation. Spencer was fucking you at a steady pace now, your face being pushed further into the girl’s pussy with each of his thrusts, and you decided to stop being such a tease, a finger sliding inside of her, curling. Your tongue continued it’s assault on her clit, finger curling and uncurling, following the rhythm of Spencer’s thrusts. You could tell she was close from the way her legs began to shake and you worked harder, eager to watch her come undone. Spencer placed another sharp slap onto your ass, once again causing your body to flinch, and you could feel he was just as close as she was, his thrusts becoming sloppier by the second. Before you could even prepare yourself you felt the girl’s body clenching around you as she cried out in pleasure, her orgasm flooding over her body. You eased up a bit, removing your fingers and using your tongue to clean the mess. Only a few seconds later you felt Spencer’s grip on you tighten, and you felt your second orgasm rapidly approaching. “Cum with me,” Spencer urged, voice strained from the pleasure, and you did, your body giving out as you felt a warm substance spill out onto your thighs. All three of you took a moment to recover, panting and wiping the sweat from your bodies. You helped clean the girl up, thanked her for her participation, and then kindly sent her on her way, leaving you once again alone with Spencer, cuddled up in bed.

“So, what did you think?” You asked him, resting your head on his chest.

He chuckled, tightening his grip around you. “I think you’re the hottest woman in the universe, and I think that was incredibly hot because of it.” He mumbled, yawning a bit. “What about you?”

“I think that I can make a girl cum harder than you can.” You teased, giggling.

“Hm. I don’t know about that, but if you want me to show off my skills…” He kissed you gently.

“Another time, Reid. I think I’m all fucked out for the night.” You rolled your eyes.

“Another time, then.” He shrugged, laughter echoing through his chest.

“Mhm. Another time.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

[goldenlaquer]

Heyy, could you write some nsfw headcanons for kondo, abuto and kamui? Love your blog

Abuto’s was already done here!

This is going to be long ;)

Gintama NSFW Headcanons:

Kondo Isao:

Like the sexually-deviant gorilla he is, Kondo wants to rut. 

But the human side of him wants to take it slow, to love, and to cherish.

Well, whichever side wins out in the bed, there’s one undisputed fact: he’s a very eager lover. 

Kondo can’t believe that there’s one woman willing to lay with him (or at least a woman who doesn’t need payment by the bed stand after the deed is done and/or a woman who still has all her teeth) and you betcha he’s going to praise just about every deity and you for the golden opportunity. That’s right, Kondo is a praiser.

and a grunter. Loud. L O U D, especially towards the end. You know you fucked him good if it feels like there’s a surround-sound system in bedroom. 

Remember at the beginning, when he revealed he had erectile dysfunction? Yeah, well over the course of 300-some odd episodes, after all the abuse and maiming and freezing and burning-- Kondo’s dick is cured and as resilient as graphene. Kiss goodbye to the erectile dysfunction. No, literally. 

It seems like I’m writing him as some antsy teenager ready to get sum, but it’s exactly that with him. Perhaps its the influence of living in a males-only compound-- all that testosterone floating in the air makes Kondo desperate for you. 

He may be the clown of the Shinsengumi, but he’s the brawn, all height and glorious muscles that feel insanely good pressed up against you. He likes it when you run your hands down his back, feeling the scar-riddled surface, and loves it when you grab him by the ass when he’s deep inside you. 

Kondo looks at you, his eyes serious as the both of you pant while coming down from the high. “I love you.” Every time after, without delay, he means those three words. 

Then proceeds to conk out. 

Okita Sougo: 

Good people of Tumblr, this shithead is the absolute worst.

OK, everyone and their mommas already know just how much a dominant freak Okita is because Gintama has been entirely transparent with us. Riding crops, collars, leashes, and ropes-- his entire franchise is sadism until the day he dies.

Sharp tugs to your nipples and bites to blade of your collarbone, Okita is determined to make sure every pleasure is mixed with a bit of pain, an intoxicating mix to make you more submissive and receptive to his harsh advances. 

But there’s no fun in you being so submissive right off the bat. No, Okita wants you to rebel against your bonds and orders, so that the thrill of putting you under complete submission is that much better. 

The collar and leash I was talking about? He wants you on your knees, working his cock with your pretty mouth, and when the pace isn’t to his liking, he can just pull that leash and force his length down your throat. The cherry on top is when you gag on his cock. 

Shibari. Need I even say it? Especially when you can’t see what he’s doing and you’re lying there, bound, and entirely helpless to his ministrations-- that’s when Okita goes down on your cunt and works you open with his  fingers, tongue, and cock, torturously slow and controlled.

The gag doesn’t come as often as you think, he’d much rather hear your pleas and struggles. A nice soothing sound to his sadistic soul. And in response, he speaks filthy, filthy language in a low, mirthful voice that’ll go straight to lower belly. 

Aftercare? The ‘Prince of Sadist’ title is brushed aside in favor for ‘Sou-chan’, and he’ll utter some teasing remarks that’ll totally be offset by the gentle way he unties your bonds and leads you to bathroom to clean off the sweat and cum. He’ll act like it’s nothing, those little things, but they mean to world to you. 

Kamui: 

I headcanon he’s a virgin, Kamui is just too obsessed with growing stronger and fighting that he completely forgoes the hormonal urges to fuck a willing woman in favor for putting his fists through someone’s chest. I guess you could say he invested all his experience points into strength. 

So when he comes into your bed, Kamui knows nothing except whatever he overheard from his Yato clansmen’s locker room talk. You’re going to have to give him some guidance.

Kamui is a devoted student, his face somber for once as he rakes his blue eyes over your body and lightly brushes his fingers against your skin, exploring, mapping, and marveling. To you, it feels pleasant and gentle...

... until it isn’t.

In a flash, the tide turns from nice and simple to bewildering and heart-racing, his hands clamping down on your hips to tug you flush against his aching front as his face breaks into a smile that makes your thighs clench. “I’ve got it now.” He declares. Got it? What has he got? He’s still a virgin-- oh. Kamui is a quick study. 

Abuto had once wisely said, Yato men are well-endowed; Kamui is no exception and when he’s easing into you, all you can do is writhe and struggle to take in his dick.  

He moves with an age-old instinct, and when you give a particularly loud moan when he does something right, Kamui targets that area with fervor. Easy. Simple. Who said sex was hard?

Doggy style, because Yato are more beasts than men, but where he’s pushing your head down to the mattress or futon and pulling your hips up to meet his thrusts. Just like Okita, Kamui favors you under his complete whim, to do as he pleases.

It’s a plus to his male pride whenever he showcases how easily he can snap you into two, but he just won’t do it; it’s a power trip for him. From the way he effortlessly holds you up against the wall, from the way he traps your hands together far better than any cuff or rope, and from the way he can easily put bruises into your skin, especially around the thighs and waist (those are the marks that proves he’s taken you for himself). 

Kamui stops until you’re passed out. And when you wake up again, he continues. Years of not doing anything to his libido has made his appetite voracious, and it’s your fault-- so you better get to it. 

Filth, absolute filth. Anyways, I’m thinking that when I finish up all my requests, I’ll open my ask box for actual, short story request for a limited time. 

#gintama #gintama headcanons #gintama imagine #kamui #okita sougo #kondo isao #answered ask #asks closed #maybe some grammer mistakes? #not sfw

[ohsugar-honey-iced-tea]

Bottoms up! (SMUT)

So basically me and @kulaykape had a bet going on about who could write the best Ina x mc smut where Ina is one hell of a bottom and well I tried :)

@citybornchick @thedaft1 @astrangeandunusualgirl @domakir

Have fun!

-------------------------------------------------------

Ina was just coming home from work. She's been having a long day at work. Lot's of conversations with colleagues, students and a lot of discussions. She loved her job, but she was getting tired of always bossing her students around about papers and tests. For once she just wanted to be told what to do.

Luckily, her girlfriend Bella, the one Ina has been in a relationship with for almost two years, can read Ina like a book. She knows exactly what she wants, when she wants it and how she wants it. From earlier texts Bella noticed something off with Ina.

One of Ina's texts told Bella that she misses the time where she was a student and didn't have to tell anyone what to do and that she actually misses the things like getting deadlines, being put in her place and all that stuff.

Ina: Bella, I will be home around 8pm. There are a lot of things going on at work and unfortunately I must finish a lot of things and tell some students what they must learn and do to succeed the next assignment before being able to go home. I am sorry. I do miss when times were simpler, where I was the one getting the deadlines and being told to do something, instead of saying so myself. Growing up truly is dissapointing.

So Bella got an idea. When Ina was at work, she went to the sex shop and bought two new toys they didn't already have and bought a sexy leather outfit for herself to wear. She made sure everything was ready in the livingroom and bedroom and got into her outfit.

Then Ina came home.

The living room was dark, with only a few candles lit and the lights were low red, thanks to the new app Bella had installed on her phone where she can change the colors of the lamps. And the music Ina heard was, well, kind of sexy? Ina couldn't really tell, her mind was still toasted of having to boss people around.

Then Ina's sight suddenly went dark. "Here's what's going to happen. You're gonna undress yourself like a good little girl, get on your knees and wait for further instructions." When Ina's sight was back, she was alone again. So Ina did what she was being told to do, with a smile on her face. Once she was completely naked and put all her stuff away, she got on her knees. Again, a blindfold was being placed on her eyes. "Good girl. Now, here's what's going to happen tonight. I'm feeling quite generous, and I'm feeling like using my new toys on you. From now on, you'll call me Ms. Fiennes. If you disobey me in any way, there will be a punishment for it. You will not ask anything unless I tell you to. I make the rules tonight. Do you understand?" "I-- yes, ms. Fiennes, I understand." Ina was loving this and was already so into this. "Good. For now, the blindfold will stay on. Don't hold back on any sounds." "...Yes ms. Fiennes"

Bella pushed Ina onto her fours, so she was facing Bella in doggy style position. Even though Ina was blindfolded, she could hear the sound of something humming near her. "Now, my little pet, I'm going to be using my first toy on you." The toy in question was a vibrator with a clitoris stimulator on top of it. "Please, ms. Fiennes, I'm yours." "Exactly what I wanted to hear." And with that she places the toy on top of Ina's back. Goosebumps were immediately showing on Ina's skin. She moves the toy in a torulously slow line down Ina's back to the place where she needed her the most. "Now, you don't think I'm just gonna give you the pleasure without getting anything out of it? No, no. I want to hear you beg for it." Bella said, as she moved the toy just above where Ina wants her desperately. "Please, ms. Fiennes. Please take me hard. I'll do anything you want. Just please, please-- ohhhhh..!" With that, Bella started to move the toy around Ina's clit. Ina was tantalised by the way Bella was working against her. "Say it. Tell me what you want", she wispered in Ina's ear. "I want you to be inside of me, ms. Fiennes" and with that, Bella made the toy slide into Ina, careful to place the clitorisstimulator just right. "Ohhhh- I-I... please, ms. Fiennes, please move against me" so she did. She slid the toy in and out of Ina, each stroke harder then the last one, until all she could hear were Ina's moans. "Now, I want you to come for me, like the dirty little girl you are" "I-I'm close, fuck I'm so close, I- I- ohhhhh fuck!" And with that, Ina was going through her first orgasm of the night. The combination of the vibrator sliding in and out of her and the stimulation on her clit made Ina see stars she never saw before.

"So, my little plaything. How did that feel?" Bella asked as she licked some of Ina's arousal off her fingers. Ina was completely flustered. "That felt amazing, ms. Fiennes. Please let me return the favor" Ina wanted to repay Bella for treating her with a night like this. "I make the rules, I tell you what to do. Stand up." So she did, and Bella took her blindfold off. Before her was standing Bella, with dark eyeliner on, a black lace bra, a leather skirt and long black heels. A true sex goddess. "Now, I want you to walk to the kitchen island and bend over it" Ina obeyed, and bend over for Bella. "Now, I'm going to taste you, do not hold back on the sounds" "yes, ms. Fie- ohh!" Bella dove in, sliding her wet tongue through Ina's even wetter slit. "You taste amazing" and with that she introduced two fingers inside of Ina. "Ohhmygod, that feels- you are- mmhhhh" Ina was having a hard time finding the words about what Bella was doing to her. Bella's eyes landed on something standing on the kitchen counter. "Do you see that fruitbowl over there? I want you to give me a piece of fruit." So Ina did. She grabbed the first piece she could get, a smooth pear, with a slim top and a round bottom. "Good girl. Sweet and juicy, just like you." She said, as she was pressing the pear onto Ina's clit. "Ohh.. what are you doing down there?" "That's for me to know, and for you to never find out." And with that, she slided the slim half of the pear inside Ina and gently swirled it around. Bella would have never imaginer using a pear like this would be this good. "Ohh God, that is just.... ohhh" Bella noticed Ina's left leg started to tremble so she pushed her further by licking at her clit. As she was licking her clit, she was enjoying the taste she and only she would get to taste from now on. She tastes perfect, and Bella is officially addicted to the taste of Ina Kingsley. "Please, ms. Fiennes, may I come?" And with that, Bella made Ina come again.

Bella took the pear out of Ina and stood up so she was standing behind Ina. "Now open up..." she wispered in Ina's ear. Ina's mouth opened, and she took a bite out of the pear that was inside her moments ago. She gently pushed the pear in Ina's mouth as her other hand started to caress her breasts and slightly pinch her nipples. "How does it taste?" "Very, very good, ms. Fiennes" "that's mostly the taste of what I'm doing to you, my little pet." "I taste sweet." "That's why you're my favorite flavor" *wink*

"Now, down on your knees" Bella sad as she was lifting her skirt up, only to reveal no underwear underneath it. "You didn't think you'd get all the pleasure, now did you?" Bella grasped Ina's hair. "Beg for it." "Please let me lick your pussy, I need to taste it. It's the only thing I'll ever need." And with that, Bella moved Ina's head exactly as she wanted her, and let her amaze her with her tongue. "Mm.. you feel incredible" and she pulled her head up to make her look her in the eyes. "You are mine, after tonight you are officially mine. Don't you ever forget that." "I won't, ms. Fiennes, I'm forever yours." "Now that' a good girl"

"Please, ms. Fiennes, can I come? I want to come desperately." Bella stopped stroking Ina with her hand from behind. "Now, my little pet, what did I say about asking? Didn't I warn you that you'd be punished for misbehaving?" Ina went silent for a while before answering. "You did, ms. Fiennes." "I am a woman of my word. Get over here." She sat down in their livingroom chair and pointed at her lap, letting Ina know to go and bend over her knee. So she quickly hurried to Bella. "I'm going to spank you five times. You're going to count with me. Understood?" When she didn't reply she squeezed her ass firmly. "Understood?" "Ohh- yes, ms. Fiennes." "Good girl" and she gave her the first slap. "Ohhh- one..." the second slap "nnhhhh... two" "I want to hear you louder." Another slap. "Ohhmy... t-THREE" Bella was smirking at her self. She slapped her for the fourth time. "Ahhhh... FOUR" and then finally the last slap. "FIVE! ooohh...." "now there's a sight to remember" Bella said as she started to play with Ina's behind. Ina was surprised at finding out how erotic she found this. Bella moved her hand furthur, starting to finger her. "Ooohhh shoot.." Ina moaned softly. "Look at you, all hot and bothered... lying in my lap.. desperate to cum" Bella said, and with that, she let Ina fall over the edge. "Ohhh shit, shit, shit my go- ooooohhh yes!"

Ina was an utter and complete mess when Bella made her climax time after time. Bella took her in every position, and clearly doggystyle was one of their favorites yet. As Bella was pounding into Ina with a new strap-on she bought, Ina was moaning and squirming uncontrollably. Bella grasped Ina's hair and pulled her close. "Who do you belong to? Who's body is this? Who's pussy? Tell me now" Ina was bucking her hips into Bella's. "You, ms. Fiennes, only you." Come for me, let me hear what I'm doing to you" "oooohhh... I'm going to.. I'm about to-- ohhhhhhhh my god, yes, yes oh fuck!" Ina's eyes rolled to the back of her head as she was feeling yet another climax, each one seeming to feel more amazing then the last.

Many, many rounds later, they collaped on their bed together. Bella lies on her side next to Ina with her hand placed on Ina's stomach while Ina still tries to catch her breath. "So, how was that for you?" "It was amazing, ms. Fiennes" Bella chuckles. "You know you can call me Bella now, right?" "I know, I'm sorry, I guess my mind is still in a different galaxy. Seriously, babe, you made me see and feel things I've never seen or felt before." Bella starts stroking Ina's hair. "Well, I noticed you were down from your text earlier, and I made a judgement call and thought this would be what you would like and need the most" "I really did, thank you, sweetheart" Bella kisses the top of her head. "Don't ever thank me for that. It was my pleasure, trust me." Ina nuzzles her head in the crook of Bella's neck. "I think I might be a bit sore tomorrow" Ina says and Bella starts blushing slightly. "Was it too much?" "Never. Just be prepared to get payback any day now. Be prepared." Bella pecks Ina on the lips. "For you, my dear, I am always prepared." She gives Ina one last kiss. "I love you" "I love you more" "not possible. Now get over here." They settle into each other arms and fall into a deep sleep together, both having a smile on their face as they dreamt about many more future moments like this to come.

The end

[artificialqueens]

I'm Not Into Sometimes, Chapter 2 (Rosnali) - SnowBun

A/N: Very proud of this chapter <3 finally feel myself getting back to the writing style I enjoy the most. I hope you like reading this is as much as I like writing it. much love everyone xx

Summary: When Denali goes viral for posting a dance video, she doesn’t expect it to lead her to becoming a choreographer for Rosé, an up and coming singer destined for fame. Denali thinks that this might be her first (and only) shot at achieving her dream. If only her dream wasn’t wrapped up in a flurry of pink hair, charm and a supposedly professional relationship.

—

Release comes in the sound of blades scraping against ice. It is the feeling of her core tightening as she pushes off the ground and becomes the world turning on its axis. She is this moment of weightlessness and control.

Then her head begins to fog with visions of spinning rose-colored tops across a dark wooden floor, so endlessly mesmerizing. Her mind fills with questions of intrigue and challenge, the first time she’s ever seen duality so up close. Oh, to be so breathlessly enamored by beauty and talent.

It’s the loss of focus that weighs her down, causing her to land shakily on her right foot. She extends her left leg for balance and slides not-so-gracefully on the ice. She hears Olivia cheer in the sidelines, all bright white smile and wonder. It brings her back to the rink and away from the studio.

She skates over, pressing her forehead to the fence. “It’s not so bad.” She thinks. The rest of the world is slowly but surely getting hooked on Rosé, and she lives up to every expectation and more. She thinks it’s perfectly normal to feel a little charmed by her.

Even if she was a bitch at first.

“What’s wrong?”

Then again, she can’t quite answer Olivia’s question. She isn’t a fan from half way across the world. She’s the damn choreographer. She’s in New York, seeing her old friends and grasping onto her dream.

Said dream just had to come in the form of pink hair and clear brown eyes.

She shakes her head and smiles. “Nothing’s wrong, Liv.”

—

At first, she thinks she’s just so tired that she’s seeing things. When she blinks, she realizes that her eyes aren’t lying and that Rosé really is right there, sitting on the dance studio floor at 6:30 in the morning. She’s staring at intently at her phone, with an expression that can only be described as upset fury. She becomes too absorbed in typing to even notice Denali come in.

“Hey.”

She looks up and her face softens into a small smile. There it goes again, that weird feeling of nakedness that comes with being looked at by those eyes. The combination of this and the lack of sleep is disconcerting, but she manages to smile back anyway.

“Hey.” Rosé procures a coffee cup from behind her and reaches up to pass it. “I got you coffee.”

It takes her a minute to process, way too taken aback by the gesture. She’s always prided herself on being difficult to phase, but when a woman who is basically her employer that she barely knows hands her coffee, it’s hard not to act surprised.

Nonetheless, she accepts it gratefully, muttering a ‘thanks’ as she sits down on the floor beside her.

For a while, she stills as Rosé continues to type with such force that Denali’s scared that she might end up cracking the screen somehow. She wonders in silence, but she’d be lying if she says she’s not tempted to cross the arbitrary line and ask if something is wrong.

“Sorry.” Rosé’s voice suddenly rings clear, but the world around them still feels quiet, tranquil almost. “Just a lot of stuff that needs to get done before the video shoot.”

“Mmm,” Denali says, as she sips her coffee. “It’s fine, I don’t mind.”

Even if the phone has been tucked into the pocket of her bag, Rosé opts for stretching out her legs in front of her and yawning instead of getting up. She turns her head to look at the choreographer whose gaze is directed at the cup in her hand.

“So,” She draws out the word lazily, cocking her head to the side. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“What do you think of Phenomenon?”

It’s a difficult question to answer. If she says something bad, she’s kicked off this project. If she says something good, she’s just kissing ass. She knows that the only right answer to this question is her own opinion, but when her mother told her that honesty is the best policy, she’s not sure this is the situation that she had in mind.

“Honestly?” Rosé nods. “I think it’s great. The lyrics are good, the production is amazing, your vocals are fantastic. Plus it’s your own brand of witty and self-assured. Not sure what’s not to like there.”

She isn’t sure if this was the answer Rosé expected from her. All she hears is a sigh and they sink once again into that comfortable silence while Denali finishes her coffee. She doesn’t really know much, or anything really, about the woman beside her, but in the stillness of the morning, she feels comfortable.

“Right,” Rosé’s voice is soft and she hates herself for the ache that starts to bloom in her chest. “What’s not to like?”

She tries to ignore it, that stupid idea that this true vulnerability and not just small talk between colleagues; but she sees those eyes staring into the empty space, watches the beams of sunlight give her a blush halo. The ache spreads through her body and she bites her tongue to stop from begging to know what she could possibly not like.

Denali stands up and throws away her cup in a bin in the corner of the room. “Anyway,” She reaches out a hand to help her up. “We should get to work.”

Rosé smirks up at her and she thinks that the ache is threatening to cause an implosion. “Oh, so she’s all work and no play, huh?” She says, grabbing at her hand.

Then they’re face to face and Denali can feel the tug, that back and forth that comes with the competition that is flirting. She laughs a little, tries her best to play it cool. “I have to work hard if I want to play hard, don’t I?”

She walks away with a pair of eyes on her back and an ache that won’t go away.

—

“Are you going to spill all the tea now or what?”

Her eyebrows raise behind the glass of vodka cranberry that she’s holding. Of course, Mik wants to get straight to the gossip. She’d be surprised with any other conversation starter to their Friday night, almost a week since she’d arrived in New York. The bar Mik chose is a little too crowded for her taste, filled with other women who have been eyeing her. She notices but she ignores it in favor of the woman in front of her.

“What happened to ‘how have you been, Denali?’ or ‘how’s New York, Denali?’”

“Okay whatever,” Mik rolls her eyes. “How are you?”

“Tired.” She answers in a heartbeat.

“And would that have anything to do with a certain singer whose name rhymes with… shit, I can’t think of anything.”

She purses her lips together. If she’s honest, working with Rosé is probably the least tiring thing on her agenda. The ice skating in the early evenings as a bid to tire herself to sleep hasn’t been working. All its led to is sleepless nights staring at the ceiling until she sees the first vestiges of day creep through the windows, signaling another turn on the earth’s axis.

In the studio with Rosé, she can at the very least find some peace. The understanding that they are both good at what they do and the comfort of knowing that each day with her is a chance to know her more drives her to get out of bed and into the studio.

“A part of it, yeah.” It’s the tiniest bit of truth and Mik doesn’t look one bit sated by it. “What else am I supposed to tell you?”

“Oh, come on,” It’s that signature Mik whine that finally gets a laugh out of her. “You have to tell me something, anything!”

“You’re an MUA that works with runway models. You know enough famous people as it is.”

“That doesn’t make me any less curious about them.”

She bites her tongue when she hears those words. It’s not like she’s any different. Every morning with Rosé is an established routine with coffee and curiosity on both ends. The existing respect for each other’s craft makes them both wonder about the person underneath.

So, they start to ask questions. How’s New York? Where’d you get the coffee? How’s your morning? What’s the name of that guy on TV who used to host Fear Factor and is a shithead now?

Like clockwork, the questions morph into flirting. It’s standard, innocent, verging on comfortable even. Rosé is always the first to break into a blush, true to her name. At times, Denali thinks that she may have gone too far, but then she sees those eyes again, all amusement and interest. Each interaction is a chance for the ache to spread somewhere new along with the growing assurance that there’s nothing to dislike.

“I don’t know, okay?” She finally lets out. “We work great together and we get along, but it’s not like, ‘ooo, you’re my new bestie’ or anything like that.”

“Hmm,” Mik lets out a him, popping the straw out of her mouth. “That’s interesting.”

“Why is that interesting?”

“Let’s just say my sources tell me she doesn’t get along with everyone.”

Her eyebrows scrunch together at that. Sure, she understands that Rosé isn’t exactly everyone’s glass of wine, especially with the cold seriousness that she handles her music, but she respects that about her.

What’s not to like?

“Well, I don’t think she’s a bitch, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Or maybe you want to be her bitch…”

“Oh, fuck you!” She throws a tissue at Mik’s face as the model cackles in delight. Her phone suddenly chimes, a message from an unknown number popping up on the screen.

?: hey, I got your number from Tamisha

“Who is it?”

Damn her and her expressive features. She keeps quiet, brain going at breakneck speed to think of all the reasons why she’s texting on a Friday night when she probably has at least a hundred different parties to go to and a thousand different women trying to catch her eye.

Denali: really hope this is rose and not the guy standing outside Tamisha’s office who keeps asking me out

“It’s just Rosé.” She watches Mik’s mouth turn into an O-shape and she throws another tissue. “No, no, not what you’re thinking, sweetie.”

At least she doesn’t think so. Harmless flirting is one thing, but getting her number from her manager? They keep stepping closer and closer to the line and she thinks she sees the chalk start to smudge.

?: sorry to disappoint, it’s just rosé

Denali: too bad. what’s up?

“She’s texting you on a fucking Friday night.” Mik sounds absolutely dumbfounded. “Sounds a lot more than professional to me.”

She knows that Mik is right. They don’t even have practice tomorrow, so she can’t justify it as a possible cancellation. She’s about to come out with some boldfaced lie when her phone vibrates on the table.

Rose: just thought you should have my number. ps: my name is not rose

Olivia arrives and she slams her phone right down on the table.

“I’m buying us a round of shots.

—

She hates this. She loves this. Saturday morning is now the distant tip-tap of heels against the floor, click in the brain, a switch to her soul. Wake up, wake up, wake up. This is not home, it’s not her hotel room. It’s just a cold floor where she has some peace.

Then she hears that voice, every note of the song a gentle wave rushing in to carry her away from her body. Her eyes are glued shut, but it doesn’t matter when she’s already left her body behind on the shore. The voice grows louder, closer, and the waves start to grow. Her body is too far away now and she’s not sure if her eyes will ever open again.

Wake the fuck up.

“Denali?”

A poke to the ribs sends her rushing back into her own body. An involuntary groan escapes her lips and she hears a laugh from above her. She scrunches her eyes shut, terrified that any form of light might cost her the ability to see.

“What the hell?”

Her voice sounds like a croak to her ears and she manages to roll over onto her back. With a moment of preparation, she cracks open an eye. She’s greeted by the sight of Rosé kneeling over her barely functioning body, clearly trying her best not to laugh. Again, she groans and Rosé can no longer help herself.

“Why are you here?”

Honestly, she’s not sure about the answer to that one. There are bits and pieces of memories from last night printed on the back of her eyelids, but it’s all too fuzzy for her to try to piece together immediately. She remembers the sound of Olivia’s laughter mingling with Mik’s voice as they watched her throw back a seventh shot. The memory causes pain to start creeping into her head and she makes a promise to herself to never drink again.

There’s the sound of shuffling and when she looks up, Rosé isn’t kneeling above her anymore. She assumes that she’s sick and tired of her hungover ass, a perfectly valid response in her opinion. Then she hears humming beside her and sighs, glad that validity has no place in this situation. She closes her eyes again, losing herself to the light behind her eyes to ease the throbbing at her temples.

“Isn’t it a Saturday?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you here?”

“I asked you first.”

Her hands fly up to her face. Rosé is laughing again and the pain starts to spread throughout every part of her head. If only it would subside, maybe she’d finally have the energy to actually be embarrassed about waking up on the floor of her workplace.

“Went drinking.”

“Ah, and how’s that going for you?” There’s a smile in her voice. Fuck it, she thinks as she jumps straight over the line of professionalism with a flip of her middle finger. Oh well, it’s not as if this whole situation has pretty much created a void where the line should be.

“Your turn.”

Rosé goes quiet. She focuses on the sound of their breathing. Inhale, exhale. The expansion of her sides with every controlled gulp of air. She hears a plane overhead, letting the escape of air follow it far away from city streets.

“Just wanted to get away for a while.”

She turns her head, sees pale pink rose petals sprawled out on the dark floor. In the gentle light of a Saturday morning, her eyes break her promise to herself, drinking in the sight of weary beauty. She thinks she’s just hungover, but she believes she’s never seen anyone quite so pretty before.

“Well,” She looks back up at the ceiling, stark white staring back at her. “Same here.”

—

By 10:00 PM, she’s burying herself in sheets. She’s never been much of a fan of stillness, but she thinks the last week might be changing her mind.

A few hours earlier, she’d replied to Mik and Olivia’s texts, asking her if she was okay. She cursed and reassured them in the same breath. When they’d asked her where she’d ended up, she had said, “passed out on the floor.”

Half a truth is good enough, right?

If she had told them everything, she’d have to tell them that she laid in the studio for half an hour with Rosé’s humming the only thing cutting through the pounding in her head. She would have to tell them that she’d stumbled as she got up, letting warm hands guide her as she learned to stand. She’d have to tell them of the exchange of tender smiles, so different from the tug of war of flirtation that she’s accustomed to.

Her phone lights up. She expects Mik or Olivia, even Kahmora. No, she only sees that name and she giggles to herself like a damn teenager, a quiet admission that she’s allowed something to change.

Rose: pls tell me you didn’t go drinking again

Denali: I actually like having more than one brain cell, thanks

Rose: great, don’t want to have to pick you up off the floor again

Denali: won’t you ever let me live it down rose?

Rose: only if you start spelling my name right

Denali: the accent’s too much of an effort

Rose: then use my real name

Denali: ???

Rose: call me rosie

A smile graces her lips and she shoots off one last message. She places her phone on the nightstand and buries herself in the blankets, drifting into her first good sleep in a long time.

Denali: alright, night rosie

—

Monday morning suddenly frees up when Rosé says she has to move their session to the evening to make room for interviews. She fills up the rest of her morning by replying to emails about skating gigs for when she eventually returns home. She has lunch with Mik and Olivia and when they inevitably begin to pry, she stays mum on what she can only now describe as her complicated friendship with Rosé. She returns to the hotel and lets herself sleep, turning the feeling of being well-rested into a brand-new addiction.

When she arrives at the studio at 7, there’s no one there. While it isn’t like Rosé to be late, she doesn’t text. She assumes that she’s coming from yet another one of many interviews that she kindly referred to as, “shitheads trying to get way too personal.”

She settles for freestyling to loosen up while she waits. When the music starts, she feels herself break. Every moment is grounded in her own brand of ferocity and well, sex. There’s comfort in her own body, in the knowing that it is a temple of worship to herself. A signal from her brain to move, a single fluid motion, all indulgent offerings to the pleasure only she will ever feel. She throws herself into the fire and the sensation of pleasure starts to build.

The door opens, but she doesn’t, can’t stop. She feels like she’s hovering over the floor, on the brink of climax. The song peaks and she almost gasps, dropping to her knees and letting her back hit the floor. She takes a deep breath, relishes the feeling of being alive.

“Sorry.” She’s apologizing, but she’s not sure for what.

“I…” For once, Rosé is at a loss for words. Her quick wit has been thrown out the window and is probably being dragged around under the wheels of a taxi. She laughs breathily as she gets to her feet.

When their eyes meet, the air turns heavy with unspoken words and desire. She tries to look away, but she can’t. Brown gazes meet and for the first time, she permits herself the thought of what it would be like to kiss her. Maybe, just maybe, that wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Uhm, okay! Let’s get started?” Rosé bursts out and she thinks that she might have won this round.

If the singer seems more distracted than usual, she doesn’t say anything about it.

—

The water in the shower is still cold when she receives a text that evening.

Rosie: no need to meet me for the rest of the week. We need four dancers for the video, auditions on wed

The water suddenly seems warm and for the first time in her life, she thinks she’s finally learning what it’s like to lose.

—

#rpdr fanfiction #rosé #denali foxx #rosnali #lesbian au #choreographer au #snowbun #s13 #im not into sometimes