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mychoombatheroomba · 4 months

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Proximity Alert

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 11

And into the minefield you go. Little do you know, Leon is fool enough to follow you.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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Flustered or not, Leon was, as you came to find out, a damn good shot.

He would have had to have been, you supposed, to survive what he’d survived. Still, you found yourself very much impressed as the two of you spent your hour unloading magazine after magazine into the targets down range. You didn’t mind losing to him.

Not when three points was all it took for him to smile the way he did.

“If you can shoot like that now, just think of how good you’d be if you cut that hair so you could see,” you’d said, and you weren’t sure where the energy you had was coming from.

Maybe you said it for the same reason you'd called him pretty; it was true, yes, but you also wanted to get a rise out of him.

And a rise you got. “You must not hate my hair too much, if you think I’m pretty.”

Oh, he was getting better at countering your jabs. Knives and words. And just like when he managed to get a successful counter in while sparring, you watched his eyes go a little wide as he realized what he’d just said.

You were both flying by the seat of your pants, then.

“I won’t matter how pretty you are if someone can throw you around by your fringe,” you said, ignoring the way it felt like you were walking over the edge of a cliff. Ignoring the way your mouth curled without you meaning it to. “And if I remember right, I’ve done it before.”

“Guess I’ll just have to be extra careful, then.” His own smile returned, and it lingered until the two of you said your goodbyes.

That smile made some stupid, sentimental part of you ache because it made him look young - young and proud and excited that he’d done well. For a moment, he looked like Raccoon City never happened. Like the two of you weren’t training to fight what spawned from mankind’s darkest ideas. For a moment, as Leon beamed at you, you could almost imagine that things were normal. Or, as normal as they ever had been for you.

You felt that way more and more when you were around Leon - strange, because if anyone should remind you of what waited for you out there in the real world, it should have been him. Instead, you found yourself smiling more when you were around him than you had in the last year. The smiling wasn’t the dangerous part, though.

Ever more, you were ignoring the warning bells in your mind in favor of holding his gaze for a second longer than you should have. Letting yourself study the strength of his jawline, the way the boyish fullness of his cheeks was sharpening into something harder. Or the way his arms were being cut by more and more defining lines. You let yourself say things you shouldn’t have because getting those little rises out of him made you feel . . .

It made you feel something other than the misery you’d been wallowing in for so long.

Something you almost felt you didn’t deserve.

That had been the silent war your thoughts had been waging, because it was stupid to get close. It was completely and utterly reckless.

And you thought of that smile as you went to bed that night, anyway, because it felt good to imagine something other than the snow and cold, and the dead eyes that waited for you in your dreams. Thinking of the warmth of his hand on top of yours, his smart mouth, or the way his cheeks and the tips of his ears would redden when he was embarrassed felt like you’d found a place to rest your weary bones. Maybe you could afford a moment of weakness, every so often.

Thoughts were harmless without action to give them life. A gun with the safety on. You could think whatever you wanted.

So long as it stayed safe in your mind, where it belonged.

⧫⧫⧫

Pretty boy.

It really shouldn’t have taken up such a big space in his head, but Leon found himself thinking of those words as he lay in bed that night. It didn’t stop the nightmares, but it was a far better thing to remember when morning came than rotting flesh, or heavy footfalls at his back.

Or the feeling of someone’s hand slipping through his fingers.

He would much rather think of you and whether you were being serious or not.

That was the question he tried to puzzle out that day, well aware that he was putting too much thought into a single moment. A joke. Had to have been.

Still, he sure as hell wanted more, whatever it was.

So, when evening came and he met you in the training yard, he did so with a mission he had no notion of how to carry out. You were already there, as always, the sunset casting you in honey gold. You tossed him a knife. “As promised,” you said as Leon caught it.

“So, what do I get if I win this time?” he asked, flipping the blade back and forth, just as you so often did. It was becoming more and more natural to him, now.

Still, if it was natural for him, it was second nature for you.

“I wouldn’t worry about something that’s not going to happen,” you shrugged, a glint in your eyes. You’d always seemed sure of yourself, but with the passing of the last few weeks, he’d come to see a different side of that confidence. One that wasn’t afraid to dish out a bit of trash talk. An Army brat, through and through. Leon didn’t mind it, so long as he could give as good as he got.

He rushed forward, knife aimed at your chest. You moved just as fast as Leon knew you could, bringing your hand up to smack the blade away. A few weeks ago, you would have blocked him, but Leon had gotten faster since you began teaching him.

More than that, he’d gotten wise to a few tricks.

He tried not to be too proud that he was nearly fast enough to pull the feint off. Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, after all. Still, as he changed his weapon’s course at the last minute and felt the blade catch your shirt, if not your skin. You felt it too, he could see it on your face as you leapt backwards to safety. “Don’t be so sure,” he breathed, locking eyes with you. “I learned from the best.” Flattery had worked the night before. Maybe-

“I’ll tell Krauser you said so.”

“Not what I-”

“I know what you meant,” you nodded, eyes softening almost imperceptibly. “Now, come on.”

You were all business when the knives were in play. He knew that. Still, it had been worth a try. Besides, he didn’t think he would ever get tired of watching you fight. Even if he was the one on the business end of your knife.

You were a viper. When you reared up to strike, one couldn’t help but watch, wide-eyed as adrenaline filled them. Fear and bewilderment in equal measure. And when you moved, god help anyone within reach. You were too fast for him several times that night, as you always were. Too fast and too dangerously beautiful-

Focus.

The difference lately was that Leon was beginning to move the same way. Those patterns that he’d been watching for from you, he’d finally begun to learn. You favored protecting your torso over your legs. You liked feints. Wrist locks and knocking him off his feet. Controlling his arm. All favorites that he learned to watch out for. It let him stay “alive” longer and longer. All secrets that helped him avoid a disarm, or a takedown. He was learning more than how to fight, he was learning you. For every disarm or takedown, he gave you a scrape or a bruise. You were showing him how to bridge the gap between the two of you.

That was why he thought he had you when you bent his arm up after a jab at his side, the strain of it edging just short of real pain.

Your hands were both occupied. His left wasn’t.

He kicked towards your leg, and you shifted a bit to avoid it.

His wrist being free was just enough mobility for him to toss the knife up. His left hand caught it, and again he just nearly missed the swipe he took at your head. You ducked under the swing in a blur of motion, and he followed through. You caught the attack, and again your hands were moving to control. Just as he knew you would.

Shoulder protesting a bit at the speed with which he moved, Leon wove his arm under your own. You blocked the first strike. Just barely the second.

Your bodies were pressed together, your hands just barely stopping him from checkmate. With steel just an inch from your throat, your lips parted as you looked up at him, first in surprise and then in struggle. Victory was there, within reach. So close Leon could reach out and grab it. Get drunk off of it.

Drunk off of the idea of winning and drunk off the way you felt against him.

Then he felt something else. The weaving of fingers through the hair on the back of his head. Gentle for only a millisecond. The sort of sensation that made it feel like someone had hooked him to a high-voltage battery. That gentleness died before it even drew its first breath as he remembered the warning you’d given him the day before.

⧫⧫⧫

You’d done it to win, and maybe to prove a point. What you could never have predicted was that bragging rights were absolutely nothing next to the real prize. That being the sound that Leon Kennedy made that evening in the training yard when you pulled his head back by his hair.

You’d heard his pained groans a hundred times now. This one, though . . . it was different. Throaty and strained, and downright sinful. No human being had a right to make that noise. Not in a situation like this.

If that was the sound he made when he was in pain . . .

What were you doing?

Both of you froze as soon as you realized what had happened, staring at each other from a distance that seemed too far and too close all at once. His eyes were dark, even with how wide they were. His breathing shallow. His body tense. His lips parted. His throat was exposed, the knife in his hand still pressed against it. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thick.

It was then that you realized just how far into that minefield you’d wandered.

And the way he was looking at you, those shadowed blue eyes searching your own, only made it worse.

What the fuck were you doing?

“Told you about the hair,” you said, not of your own volition. Something cruel had a hold of you. Cruel and wild and full of a fire that burned you from the inside out. A year’s worth of pushing want down in favor of need was all threatening to split you open, now.

You were stronger than your impulses, though. Or more cowardly than you’d like to admit.

Whatever the case, you let go of Leon’s hair and stepped away because you knew if you didn’t, it would mean the beginning of something you couldn’t allow into reality. You just hoped that you had bailed out early enough, because as you moved away from him, that tension in the air remained.

“You okay?” you asked after a moment of silence, because you genuinely didn’t know what else to say.

“Yeah,” Leon nodded, and even if he was lying, you weren’t going to call him on it. Not right now. “Yeah. Just . . . point taken about the hair.”

“Hmm,” you nodded back.

Another beat of oppressive stillness, and you could only do your best to tread water through it. That, and try not to linger on the way Leon’s lips had looked only seconds ago. It was just a moment, and it passed. The safety was still on.

“So, are you going to cut it?” you finally asked, pointing to his hair.

Leon had looked lost up until that moment. Even as you spoke, it took him a second to register what you’d said. He looked at you for the first time since you’d let him go - just a glance, but one that let you know that you’d kicked up a storm in his mind. He breathed a single dry laugh and shook his head. “Not a chance.”

⧫⧫⧫

He couldn’t sleep. And not entirely for the usual reasons.

No, that night, Leon was kept awake by the memory of your hand in his hair and the sharp pain of you pulling on it. That, and the warmth of you being so close to him. The way your eyes had been so bright with an emotion he’d never seen in you before, one that burned low and true like embers.

He replayed the moment in his mind, out of embarrassment, true, but also to chase the phantom of what he’d felt. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought of you in the dark - his thoughts had drifted to you more and more lately. That night, though, he wasn’t just thinking about you. He was imagining you. He imagined what you might feel like in his arms, what the skin beneath your shirt might feel like against his fingertips.

He imagined what it might be like to feel the kiss of your lips instead of your steel.

And as he imagined, he fought back the guilt that wrapped its cold hands around his throat. Who the guilt was owed to . . . that was becoming a more difficult thing to know.

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A/N: This chapter brought to you by the sounds Leon makes when he's injured. Also shot myself in the foot putting a Leon pic in every chapter . . . gonna need more than 40 of these mfs 😂

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #jack krauser #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #between the bones #gender neutral reader #leon kennedy x you #no y/n

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timandlucy · 1 year

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quiet my fears with the touch of your hand

Pairing: Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen

Rating: G

Timeline: During Episode 5x14 and After

Word count: 2031

Summary: “You okay?”

Their limbs are tangled together on the couch, and Lucy is half-sprawled over Tim’s body, with her hand resting on his torso while one of his hands is busy playing with a lock of her hair. Despite the comforting gestures and their physical proximity, Lucy is oceans away from him at the moment and there is no way to ignore the brooding, melancholy silence that hovers between them.

Read on AO3

Tim’s arms around her provide a safe cocoon throughout the movie. It's so tempting to just lose herself in the warmth of his embrace and yet Lucy’s thoughts continue to shift back to what Tamara said. It weighs heavy on her, knowing what the girl has been through. She fidgets with her hands, trying not to make it painfully obvious that she hasn’t really been watching the movie.

Lucy has her own painful feelings of rejection regarding her family, which does nothing to ease her mind. She's been trying her best to make sure Tamara understands that she has a home with her for good, but she must've gone wrong at some point if her relationship with Tim made her feel replaced or displaced.

“You okay?”

“Hmm?” She asks before realising what he means. “Oh, yeah.”

“Is it the movie?”

Lucy glances at the TV and lets out a soft sigh. She's mad at herself for compromising the little personal time they get together, but Tamara's words are still lingering in her mind. “No,” she admits in defeat. “I haven't seen much of the movie.”

He doesn't point out that it was obvious that she hadn't been watching. He lowers the volume almost to zero, letting the movie play on in the background while turning his body and attention completely to her. “What's up?”

Lucy shakes her head, conflicted. It’s not just that she doesn’t want to bother him with this on one of his rare nights off, and she also doesn’t want to betray Tamara's trust by telling him what they talked about. Her need to discuss it, and the fact that it’s Tim and they talk about everything wins in the end. But before she can even voice what's on her mind, he knows.

“Does it have anything to do with Tamara skipping movie night?”

#chenford #chenford fanfic #chenford fanfiction #tim bradford #lucy chen #the rookie #my writing

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shigarakislittlepet · 3 years

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im so happy to find a blog with good nsfw content for literally all my faves lol we share the same braincell it seems! how about fluffy nsfw headcanons for Dabi, Shigi, Aizawa and Shinsou and well, Baku but I don't want to overwhelm you even if you don't have a character limit hhh, with a s/o that was completely inexperienced in sex before they got together? They grew more comfortable with the idea of sex over time as they used to be really shy about it but they're scared they'll mess up and disappoint their loves? If possible could you mention what kind of approach each boy would have for the first time with their virgin s/o? I'm just feeling some fluffy dick tonite ya know lol stay safe out there <3

Ohhhh my gosh, this whole thing gave me brain rot lmao, thank you for giving me this power <3<3<3

This also took me literal months to finish because life got crazy, so I’m sorry about that. Hope you enjoy it anyway!

TW: loss of virginity, gentelness, fluffy smut, unprotected sex bc I’m a whore (Y/N is on birth control), and as always all characters are adults especially Y/N

-Dabi-

> You are surprised by how patient he is with you. You were sure he’d have gotten tired of waiting, but he didn’t push. He didn’t make you feel badly about it, and the last thing he would ever want to do to sweet little innocent angel is coerce them into something they weren’t ready for. So, he waits.

> It happened so gradually. Over time, light kissing became making out. After a few months, you got more comfortable and it didn’t feel at all odd to fall into bed with him, cuddling and “swapping spit” as he called it, which always made you giggle like a schoolgirl at his crudeness. His hands would test the waters, but he was always feeling for nervous tremors and flinching, never wanting to go further than you were comfortable. At first, he only rested a hand on you lower back, drawing lazy circles into your waist, his other cradling your face gently, reassuringly. Eventually he could get his hand beneath your shirt, still just at your lower back, but he was content with his progress. Your skin was soft and you said he felt warm, and that was the first time he ever thought of his quirk as “sweet, comforting”, as you described the warmth from his hands.

> After a few months went by, he had progressed to the point of being able to freely roam your body with his hands, the warmth helping you stay calm and anchored to him.

> What continued to surprise you is how easy it felt, once you were ready. You didn’t even see it coming. He asked you, so gently, if he could take your shirt off. You told him he could as long as he promised to keep you warm. He went along slowly, constantly reassuring you, “God Angel, you’re so beautiful. I gotta see more of you, can I? Please?”, “You’re so soft, I need to feel more of your skin, angel, please?” You didn’t even hesitate, you didn’t need to. You felt safer with him than you ever had in your life.

> You realized, once you were both naked together, just how comfortable you were with him. And suddenly you felt like you needed to give him everything he ever wanted, and you knew he would do the same for you.

> It happens so slowly, or at least, it feels like it does. His hand slowly grazes down between your bodies until he reaches your core. You gasp, no one but you had ever touched you there, and it feels so foreign and wonderful. And warm. Once you begin bucking onto his fingers, an insatiable grin stretches across his face. He retracts his fingers, bringing them to his lips, and you watch as he sucks them clean. He calls you delicious and rolls on top of you, asks you if you’re ready for him. For the first time, you look down between your bodies and see just how huge and hard he is for you. When he sees your concern he kisses your forehead, then your lips. “I won’t hurt you Angel, I promise.” You nod and smile, and he starts easing into you, stopping every so often when he can tell the stretch is too much. He kisses your cheeks, your shoulders, your lips, whatever he can get his mouth on as he pants and mumbles little praises. “I love you”, “You’re doin’ so well”, “You’re takin’ me sooo well”, “God, you’re so beautiful, you know how beautiful you are Angel?”, “Ahh, you’re so fuckin’ tight and wet for me Angel, you want me that badly?”. The praises and teases help you considerably to keep you relaxed, and fuck, you DO want him. So fucking badly, you need him. When he’s finally seated inside you fully, he waits, clearly using every last bit of his restraint and self control to give you time to adjust. When you finally whine and buck your hips up on him, he loses it. “I hope you’re fuckin’ ready, Angel.”

>You find rather quickly that Dabi’s style is a beautiful mix of “fucking” and “making love”. He fucks you, hard and deep, so much so that it makes you see stars, but while he does it he’s caging you in-between his arms, holding you close while he pistons in and out of you. He looks you in the eyes, watching your reactions, quickly finding what angle makes you convulse and let out those beautiful moans and coos that he’s now desperate to hear.

>When he nears his end, he reaches down between you again to rub sweet circles against your clit, because no way is Dabi cumming first. It’s just not his style.

-Shigaraki-

>BRAIN ROT

> Shigaraki is definitely happy that you’re inexperienced, he’d kill anyone who had ever laid a hand on you before him. You belonged to him.

> It also means that you’re a virgin, which really gets him going because hes a pervert. ((He’s also secretly glad that he’s not the only virgin))

> He is touch starvvveeeeddddddd. We all know this. But at first, he’s so hesitant to touch you, for fear of destroying you.

> You are patient with each other, and together you find out what works and what doesn’t. He got some artist gloves so he could hold your fucking hand without hyperventilating about dusting you. He’s still afraid of you disappearing beneath his fingertips.

> You were never, not even for a second, worried that he would hurt you. You knew that he could, that he had the ability, but you knew that he wouldn’t.

> He wasn’t so sure, he was afraid of rolling over in the night and finding a pile of dust where you used to be. He wakes up from nightmares about it and has to wake you up to hold you while he shakes uncontrollably. He just has to know you’re alive.

> You both get more and more comfortable with physical proximity and contact together, because you both wanted it, you were both just so worried about fucking everything up.

> When the time came where both of you decided you were ready to have sex, you admitted to him that you were afraid of not measuring up to his expectations. All these “what if’s” kept popping up in your mind: “what if he doesn’t find my body attractive enough”, “what if I don’t know how to move right”, “what if I cant please him”, etc. etc. etc.

> He just looks at you kind of taken aback and confused. He was worried about you not being able to see him as sexually attractive because of how he looked, he was just as self-conscious as you. “Darling, you’re the most perfect person in existence, how can you not see that? Look at me! I’m... I... Look like this! How could I ever hope that someone as beautiful as you could ever see me that way?”

>You didn’t immediately know how to respond. You were... heartbroken that he saw himself that way. You couldn’t image him being self-conscious about anything because in your eyes, he was a god. He was perfect and angelic and you told him as much. You looked at him with such adorably big eyes and your voice was full of so much honesty and adoration, he had to have you immediately. He’d never felt desired, he had never felt lovable. He always thought it would be a miracle if anyone would ever be able to even stomach looking at him without cringing away in disgust. But you were so perfect and you loved him so immediately and so much that it knocked him out. He launches himself at you and just kisses you for a while.

> You both fumbled around a bit at first, trying to find what felt best. You both quickly came to the conclusion that you were going to have to practice together. A lot. As much as possible actually, because even in your inexperience, you both felt more amazing than you ever had in your lives. When you were connected like this, panting, kissing, licking, trying your damndest to become one being, it felt like bliss. You never wanted it to stop.

-Aizawa-

> MORE FUCKING BRAIN ROT

> Aizawa has an innocence kink. There I fucking said it.

> When it comes to the person he’s with, he’s a shameless flirt, and while he would NEVER cross a line or pressure you, he definitely does his best to get you in the mood whenever he can, much to your naïve frustration.

> At first you genuinely don’t even realize he’s doing it on purpose. The heated looks he gave you that made your knees weak? You didn’t think he was doing that on purpose, it’s just because he’s... tired? And he always looks so gorgeous, so that’s why. He ALWAYS makes your knees weak. Yeah that’s all it is, obviously.

> And when he comes up behind you, hands on your hips gently, and lowly rumbling in your ear. Sometimes it’s just comments about whatever you’re doing, which was bad enough. But sometimes it was mumbled compliments. About your outfit, how good it made your ass look. About how soft your hair was, how good you smelled, the softness of your skin while he gently rubbed his stubble against your neck.

>YOU COULDN’T FUCKING HANDLE IT.

> He was so soft most of the time, cuddling you while watching movies, cooking together, dancing in the kitchen with you at 3 in the morning after he finished grading papers. The shift that happened when he would get flirtatious was dizzying.

> You were nervous though, Aizawa was a bit older than you, and obviously way more experienced that you. One night while you were curled up in bed together, you told him you were nervous about disappointing him when the time finally came. He sat up and turned a light on immediately and pulled you into his lap. He held you and stroked your hair and told you how much you meant to him, how you could never disappoint him, how much he wanted you, and how he was willing to wait however long you needed. He held you until he was sure you felt better about it, and then he held you until he was sure you were asleep. You were the most important person in the world to him, and he wasn’t gonna let you think anything was ever gonna change that.

> When you finally got tired of his teasing and felt like you were ready, you decided to get him back. Before he got home, you put on one of his long shirts as a dress and started getting dinner ready.

> When he walked through the door and saw that you were wearing nothing but one of his black button ups, he had to maintain every ounce of his self control to contain the rush of feral need that suddenly consumed him. Now it was HIS turn to assume you were being innocent. And man did you play it up. “What’s wrong Shota? Are you feeling okay?” And you bat your big beautiful eyes at him. He was going to have a stroke.

> It wasn’t until you bent over and he noticed you weren’t wearing anything under his shirt that he realized it was an invitation. He came up behind you, caging you in against the counter, and growled lowly in your ear, “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” He gently pushed his growing erection against your ass, making you gasp. Score.

> “W-what do you mean?” you looked up at him as innocently as you could. He took your hand and pressed it to the front of his pants. He groaned low in his chest, thankful for any friction. “Don’t play dumb with me, kitten. You know exactly what you’re doing. I think you should take responsibility.” You grinned.

> “Yes Sir,” he jolts at that, and you sink your knees and get to work undoing the fastenings on his hero costume. When his cock springs free, you eagerly give it kitten licks until he’s had enough. He grips you by your hair and gently guides your mouth down onto his cock. He’s big, bigger than you can take, but that doesn’t stop Aizawa from purposefully making you gag on him every so often. He really does get off on how innocent you are, the tears that hang in your eyes from gagging on his cock. He’s gonna cum soon if he’s not careful.

> After he’s had his fun making you suck him off, he pulls you up and carries you off to bed. No way he’s taking your virginity on the floor, he’s too much of a gentleman. And dinner, what dinner? Thank god nothing happened to be on the stove or in the oven.

> He sets you down in bed and kisses you, takes his shirt off of you and finishes ridding himself of his hero costume. He takes pride in getting you ready for him, relishing in your sweet noises and how wet you are for him. A fact that he teases you about. “S-Shotaaa~” you moan and clench down on his fingers. He smirks, “What happened to ‘Sir’, hmm? I liked that, you know...” All you can do is whine up at him in response.

> When you feel like you’re close to cumming, you whine louder and clench down harder and before you can reach your peak, he stops. You whine in frustration before he leans down and rumbles, “Oh no, kitten, the only way you’re cumming is if you cum on my cock.” You gasp and nearly convulse at his filthy words, but you’ve never felt like you needed him more.

> He fucks you gently, at first anyway. For as long as he can. He rolls his hips into you and angles his thrusts expertly, aiming for that spot inside you that’ll make your head spin. And he hits it. Every time. And your head DOES spin. And soon you can feel the pressure build again and you start whining again, “Sh-Shouta, please! I’m s-oh! So close!” He smiles, and decides to take pity on you. He pistons harder, faster, brings a hand to your core to rub circles against your clit and when you cum, you scream his name and he can’t take it anymore. He slams into you, chasing his own high and simultaneously extends yours. You’re seeing stars by the time he cums deep into you. He rolls over, bringing you with him. You lie on top of him and he strokes your hair, and you just hold each other for a while.

-Shinso-

> I wanna say this now, Shinso is Aizawa Jr. I’m so sorry, but its true. They’re both tired, overworked, cat lovers that just wanna come home and cuddle and pass out.

> He knows he’s your first boyfriend. You met at UA and pretty much bonded immediately. Now that you’re both pro-heros working for the same agency? It was only a matter of time before he made a move. And thank whatever higher power exists that you have the same schedule. More time for cuddles.

> HOWEVER! Don’t let the fact that he’s a cuddle-bug fool you. He frequently has to remember that you’re a virgin and you’ve never been in a relationship before, so you have no idea how much he’s affected by you answering your door on a Saturday morning you both had off wearing one of his hoodies that absolutely swallows you. Looking up at him smiling and yawning sleepily, rubbing one of your eyes and groggily asking, “What are you doing here so early? I thought we weren’t going out till tonight?”. He has to breathe deeply to stop himself from jumping you.

> Because much like Aizawa, seeing you so sleepy and soft and small and knowing how innocent and naive you are to all of the things you do that make him need you... is going to make him lose his mind. Quickly.

> Instead of an innocence kink though, this motherfucker has a corruption and a mind break kink. He wants to make it impossible for you to feel pleasure without him, he wants to make you need him desperately, forever. And he wants to do it without the help of his quirk. But that would all come in time, at the moment he has to stop himself from cumming in his pants because you’re bending over on your way to your room so you can change, stooping to pet your cat and his hoodie rode up your ass and he can see your lacy black panties and you were GOING to drive him insane long before he ever got the chance to make you his, he was sure.

> He had brought you coffee and suggested you just stay in all day since you both had such a late night. Watching movies and stuff. You know, normal stuff. He told himself he wasn’t going to try and make a move. Right? Right.

> But when you emerged from your room 45 minutes later, showered and changed, your hair still damp and a droplet of water drifting down your neck and landing in the dip of your collar bones, all he could think of was licking it up. How good your hair must smell, how your skin was still probably warm form the water... He was staring, and you pretended not to notice.

> You were nervous about not measuring up to his expectations. You’d seen the women he usually went out with, and how comfortable they were with their bodies and their sexuality. How beautiful they were. As far as you were concerned, you were nothing like them.

> He could see the gears turning in your head and the downturn of your mouth, and he asked you what was wrong. He motioned for you to come sit with him, and it wasn’t five seconds before he pulled you into his lap. After some coaxing, you let him know what you were worried about. He assured you that the reason he was so happy with you is because you weren’t anything like the women he had dated before. Because, not only were you far more beautiful than they were, they had also been conceited and cold, only dating him because he was an up and coming pro-hero that could get them into events so they could dump him for the first bigger hero they’d meet. He liked that you were soft and warm and he could trust you, that you had always trusted him, even despite his quirk.

> You talked for awhile, and as the morning sun drifted higher into the sky, you decided it was time to door dash some food. While he ordered it, you excused yourself the restroom. You needed to think. The heaviness of the conversation still weighed on you, and you’d never felt closer to him than you did now. It was time, you were sure. You wanted to give him everything he’d been waiting so patiently for, he deserved it. And so did you damnit, no more of this scaredy-cat bullshit! You gave yourself your best war face in the mirror before you exited the bathroom and going back to the living room where Shinsou was reclined on your couch. Head tilted back, resting on the pillow behind him.

> He was so beautiful. Lavender hair a wild mess, eyes closed and lashes fluttering softly. You wanted to kiss his neck suddenly, and unlike when urges like this usually happened, you didn’t shove the thought away. You quickly straddled him and, before he had the chance to question you, you began kissing up and down his neck softly. “K-kitty...” he groaned beneath you, gripping your waist, his hips jerking up against yours.

> After a while of your explorative kissing, he growled impatiently and flipped you over easily, pressing you into the couch. He kissed you like he might die if he didn’t, deep and slow and desperate. When he finally broke for air and looked at you, he felt his heart and his dick jump. Your flushed face and your eyes that were looking up at him through your eyelashes heavily, your mouth hanging open gasping and your kiss bitten lips, your brows softly cinched at the effort it took for you to remember you needed to breathe.

> He asks you if you’re sure you were ready, and when you nod dazedly up at him he doesn’t need any more convincing.

> He takes his time, he’s slow and methodical. He wants your first time to be an enjoyable experience. Something you can look back on fondly and remember how much he loved you, how good it felt, how comfortable you were. He wanted it to be better than his first time, drunk after a hero convention, with some woman who didn’t remember his name in the morning and never called him back. He pushed the thought away. He focused on you, on how perfect you were.

> When he finally thrusts into you, you think you want to feel like this forever. You tell him so, and beams with pride, pushing your pleasure further. Kissing your neck and praising you. Telling you how perfect you are, telling you all the things you do that drive him crazy, telling you that he’s never going to let you go, that you’re his forever and he’s yours.

> You cum together, and you think that everything in the world must have always been this beautiful. You spend the rest of the day cuddling, eating, and making love.

-Bakugo-

> No thoughts in this mans head. None. At least when it comes to romance. When you first start dating, you had to make the first move cause his oblivious ass just thought you were challenging him. You had to explain to him that what you were actually doing was called “flirting”.

> So when it comes to your first time, you know you’re gonna have to make the first move there too. He fears rejection, so he avoids the things he really wants the most. Which in this case is you whining on his dick.

> But he also knows you’re a virgin and he doesn’t wanna scare you, so he leaves it be. Trusting his fist to get the job done when he really needs to let off some steam. Either by punching shit or jerking off.

> One day, you do catch him jerking off, and you immediately start to (stupidly) think that you’re not enough for him, that he might leave you for someone who can give him what he needs. You don’t think he notices you having a mini panic attack in the hallway so you sneak back to the kitchen to catch your breath and think. Why HAD you waited this long? What were you waiting FOR? You guessed you had just been worried about not knowing what to do, about him getting impatient and annoyed with you for your lack of experience.

> Making your final decision, you square your shoulders and march yourself back to your shared room. You confidently open the door to find him ... waiting for you?

> “Tch, took you long enough. You done freakin’ out now?” He grumbles from his spot on the bed. You nod meekly and he opens his arms for you, an invitation you gratefully accept. He pets your head and continues grumbling, “ just as bad as shitty-hair, nobody ever knocks anymore. You shouldn’t be surprised when you just try to walk in like that...”

> He keeps petting your head until eventually you hit him with it. “‘Tsuki, I wanna... uhm...” you look up at him with pleading eyes hoping his quirk somehow suddenly allows him to read your mind.

> It doesn’t. “ You wanna what? C’mon, spit it out.” No thoughts, remember?

> You huff and blush and finally squeak out, “Wanna make you feel good, ‘Tsuki...”

> His brain stops working momentarily. When he catches back up, he smirks. “Seriously? It just took you gettin’ jealous over my left hand for you to be ready?”, he teased. You stick out your tongue and he grabs your jaw, looks you dead in the eyes when he says, “I have something much more important for that cute little mouth to do.”

> Your eyes go wide at his suggestion, even though it really doesn’t surprise you. When Katsuki wants something he wants to go all out, no half-assing it. You nod nervously and he laughs at your apprehension, allowing you to shift down his body until you were face to face with his fly. You undid the button and zipper with shaky hands, and gently guide his dick out of his jeans.

> Beautiful is the first word to come to your mind. Beautiful and massive, just like the rest of him. He was easily over six feet tall, and built too so it really shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did. For a moment all you can do is look up at him from your place below him, your big strong hero. You melt a little and you notice him smirking down at you again, “What ‘ya lookin’ at, princess?”. He gently strokes your cheek while you admire him, “You.” you reply dazedly. His smirk widens to a bear malicious grin, “Me? How come?”. A feeling you’re not totally familiar with, but you’re pretty sure is called submission, fills you suddenly and you feel warm and content. “You’re perfect,” you bat your eyelashes and bite your lip as you gently start to stroke your hand up and down his length.

>He controls his breathing, because he really can’t handle you looking so cute with his cock that close to your pretty little face. “‘Tch, and? What’s got you so worked up about it?” You giggle and nuzzle your face into the base of his cock and look up at him innocently. “I’m just glad I’m yours,” you smile and lick him from base to tip before gently taking him into your mouth. You’d read enough smut online to at least have some idea how to do this.

> He almost cums when you say that you’re glad to be his. His, he grins. He doesn’t get to think about that for too long though because your warm, wet tongue is sliding up his shaft and then your pretty little mouth engulfs him and he thinks he might hyperventilate if you keep looking up at him like that. He’d almost say it wasn’t fair, but then you start moving and he thinks that he could actually die happily from the warm bliss that fills him while he watches you try to take more and more of him down your throat.

> This is much more fun than you thought it would be, especially because Katsuki keeps letting out those little sighs and groans, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. You hollow out your cheeks and suck a bit harder before taking a deep breath and relaxing your throat as much as possible. You lower yourself down as far as you can, pushing past the ring of muscle in the back of your throat before moving down further. You feel him lay his hand gently, encouragingly, on the back of your head. You’re surprised when you find your nose nestled in the light blonde fuzz at the base of him and you stick your tongue out to lap at the underside.

> He jolts when you begin your descent. You��re not really gonna try to deep-throat him, are you? He watches you, mesmerized. No ones ever even tried, always saying he was way too big. It felt way too good. He laid a hand on the back of your head to ground himself, quickly realizing he had to control himself so that he didn’t clench his fist in your hair or shove you down all the way and hold you there. When you reached your goal, he sighed. Your throat felt perfect wrapped around him, just like he knew it would. When he felt your tongue sneak out of your mouth and lick, he thanked whatever creator there was that your tongue was long enough to reach his anchor. when you start to move your head up and down, he can only take it for so long before he’s thrusting up into your mouth. When you gag on him, that’s it, he has to pull you off him before he grips your head and suffocates you on his cock.

> He’s nearly at the point of begging, but thankfully, mercifully, you seem to get the idea. You wipe your mouth and lie back on the bed, giggling at his abruptness and he growls in response. He kisses you, and praises you, telling you how good you are, how much he needs to be inside you as he undresses you. You’re surprised at how automatically your legs open for him, and you tell him how much you need him inside of you as well. You feel so empty all of a sudden. Until one of his thick fingers finds your molten core and gathers some of your slick before sinking into you and you gasp.

> He continues to kiss and praise you as he works you with his fingers. You whine and moan and beg, it’s like music to his ears. When he thinks you’re ready, he lines himself up with your entrance, sliding up and down, grinding against your clit briefly before continuing. “I wanna hear you beg for it, princess.” and fuck, did you beg. A beautiful litany of filthy fucking words fell from your mouth, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He sinks into you fully in one thrust, gripping your open legs for stability.

> At first you can’t speak, you can’t make any noise at all. You feel so unbelievably full, and you look up at him and his eyes are clenched shut and his jaw is set. He’s holding himself back. He’s trying to be gentle with you because it’s your first time. He really is very sweet when he wants to be. You raise a shaky hand to his face and he leans into it. He met your eyes and you watch as his control falters when he sees you bent in half like this. You smile, “Katsuki, please”, is all you can say. It seems to open the flood gates. For all his self control, he pounds into you mercilessly and it fills you with the most intense feeling of ecstasy. “F-fuck ‘Tsuki, you feel s-so fucking good,” you moan and gasp brokenly.

> He cums hard. Grunting, growling, and near snarling the whole way through. You’re seeing stars, even though you haven’t cum. It had felt so fucking amazing, and you’re more than content with that. Katsuki is definitely not however, and is intent on eating you out until you beg for mercy. He always takes such good care of you.

#dabi x reader #dabi smut #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #shinsou x reader #shinso smut #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut

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buckyownsmylife · 2 years

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Without Me - Chapter 5

The one where Bucky Barnes is the infamous artistic fuckboy, breaking hearts all over campus until one day, fucking random girls isn’t enough anymore.

Bucky Barnes has been making a name for himself long before the new girl started uni and became roommates with his friend Natasha. He’s sure of himself and he knows what he wants so there’s no doubt in his mind that once he makes a move, she’ll give in to him. It just so happens that she’s not the type to sleep with people she doesn’t know, and since he’s not looking for a relationship, where does that leave them?

For general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I tried to control my own laughter at Natasha’s tone of outrage, just as Bucky reappeared with the beers he’d left to grab. “You’re telling me the first time I let you two have a movie night of your own, she ends up in the hospital? I swear to God, James, I will murder you in your sleep if anything else ever happens to her while you’re nearby.”

His expression is what made me lose it. “Jesus, Natasha, she didn’t end up in a hospital, we went to get stitches there. In and out. You make it sound like she had to spend the night or something.”

I accepted the beer he offered, and tried not to think too much about how my body felt warm under his gaze, as it trailed over my body. This was probably the first time he saw as much of it, since I finally felt comfortable enough around him to wear shorts to his place.

“It’s still unacceptable.” Natasha’s mistrust and horror rekindled the humour of the situation for me, making me start laughing again as the warmth vanished when Bucky’s eyes stopped on me as he narrowed them.

“Aren’t you going to help me here?” Giggling, I reached out to pull him to the sofa before answering, “Nope.” He looked like he was about to playfully argue, but something made him give up. I didn’t mind, mostly because I was happy to have found the perfect position to watch the movie we had gathered to see, and it was the perfect balance between cuddling him and still giving him enough space so he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable about it.

“What is this movie about, anyway?” Natasha didn’t answer, but she was busy with her phone in hand, trying to get Wanda and the guys to come quicker so we could get the movie night started, but when James didn’t make any attempt to answer, I turned around to find him already staring at me, an inscrutable look in his eyes.

“What?” I asked, already smiling and expecting him to make a joke, but the only response I got was the repetition of my own question, leaving me confused. “I asked you what this movie was about.” Finally, it seemed like my words were registered in his brain. He blinked a few times while shaking his head, and I knew I was frowning as I waited for his answer, but if he noticed, he made a point to ignore it.

“Oh, it’s about this haunted house that drives people insane. Apparently, there’s an amazing plot twist, that’s why Nat wanted to see it.” Every single muscle of my body froze and I even stopped breathing as I realized that I was just about to watch a freaking horror movie. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Of course, having James this close meant that he not only noticed, but felt my terror as I turned to meet his eyes and without even saying anything, showed him exactly what the problem was.

Right then, the others arrived. While Nat got up to help the boys bring in even more beers and Wanda rearranged the snacks, James remained with me, at first laughing, but then slowly growing more and more serious as he realized just how terrified I was.

“Hey, relax. It’s just a movie.”

Obviously, I knew that, and thankfully, James was sensitive enough to know that if it made me this worried, it couldn’t be that easy to relax me. Sighing, he wrapped his arm on the back of the sofa behind me, and surprisingly enough, even though we still barely knew each other, just the gesture of proximity eased the terrible surprise a little bit.

Guess going to the hospital with someone really does make you trust them implicitly.

“I’m right here, okay? I’ll tell you to close your eyes in the worst parts. You don’t even have to look at the tv if you don’t want to.” His eyes were so sincere, and so freaking blue. I don’t know how I hadn’t noticed it before.

He was right. I’d be fine. It was just one movie.

“Okay.” I forced myself to take in a huge breath, in the hopes of calming myself down, and then Steve came closer to say hi and I was distracted enough to forget about the reality of my situation for a few minutes.

That was, of course, until the movie started.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

Oh, man. She really was terrified of horror movies - I realized with each jump and shudder that threw her into my arms. It would have been incredibly amusing if I wasn’t so infatuated with how freaking adorable she looked, still insisting on watching the movie through the gaps between her fingers despite how scared it made her.

“You’re too cute,” I teased after one particular scene that made her end up over my lap, face buried in my t-shirt. When she realized what had happened, she scrambled to get back to her previous spot, but I just tightened my arms around her. “It’s alright, just stay here. I’ll protect you.”

She rolled her eyes at my wink, but relented, relaxing her body against mine as she turned her eyes back towards the TV. And all I could think was how comfortable it felt, how comforting it was.

I liked having her weight on me. She smelled good, nothing like the heavy perfumes or the booze I was used to inhale in the women I slept with. It made me want to nuzzle my face in the crook of her neck, breathe her in.

But that would be weird. So I obviously didn’t, opting to just relax against the sofa and try to focus on the movie, even though something had undeniably stirred inside of me.

I felt like I needed to move, like there was this sudden burst of energy threatening to spill from me, and it seemed incomprehensible. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the movie, even if I wasn’t paying it all that much attention?

It was the only reasonable explanation though, so I went with it. Squinting at the screen, I forced myself to stare at the character who was speaking, until the words finally began to make sense to me. Her body adjusted on top of mine, and she inadvertently rubbed her ass over my crotch, making me stifle a groan.

“Sorry,” she whispered as I shuddered. “Are you comfortable like this?” And I couldn’t say that I wasn’t. With my cock nestled between her ass cheeks, the only question was how long it would take for her to become uneasy as it began to harden.

“Here, let’s do it like this.” I adjusted her so we wouldn’t go through another awkward moment right when we were just starting to warm up to one another. She went willingly, resting back against my chest with her ass on the sofa this time, as I watched her from the corner of my eyes.

The fact that she was able to stir up this sort of reaction from my body without even trying didn’t leave my mind all night.

#without me #my series #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fluff series #bucky barnes smut series #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes reader inserts #bucky barnes au

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writethelifeyouwant · 3 years

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Aversion Therapy

Summary: Y/N has been institutionalised for sex addiction at an experimental facility, run by Dr. Sam Winchester.

Pairing: Doctor!Sam x Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: Sex addiction, addiction therapies, abuse of therapist/patient relationship, noncon roleplay Tags: hair pulling, crotchless panties, degradation (like, a lot), blow job, spitting, pussy spanking, sex on a desk, body writing, p in v, pulling out Word Count: 4.5 k Created for: @samwinchesterbingo - Doctor!Sam | @spnkinkbingo - Crotchless Panties | @anyfandomgoesbingo - Hair Pulling | @j3bingo - Diary

A/N: So I this may or may not be one of the dirtiest things I've ever written. It's definitely up there in the list 😅I hope you enjoy, fellow sinners!

October 24th

Last night was awesome. He took me out to dinner and everything, real gentleman, even though we both knew that’s not what the night was about. It was sunset when we got up to the lookout, all romantic. I felt silly that he was making such a big deal about it. Losing your virginity shouldn’t be so much pressure. Now it’s over I don’t feel any different except that I want more. We went twice last night but that still wasn’t enough. I touched myself this morning and it was almost like I could still feel him inside of me. I think tonight I’m gonna let him do it without the condom, so he will still be inside me tomorrow morning.

“What the hell are you doing?” you shout, outraged. It wasn’t enough that your parents had locked you in this place, humiliating you, betraying you, handing you over to Doctor Judgy, but they’d handed over your diaries too. Fucking great. Dr. Winchester ignores you and keeps reading, skipping ahead a few weeks.

November 15th

Fuck I love sex. Even with guys that aren’t great at it it’s still worth it just to have a cock inside me. I wish I could stay the night somewhere without my parents freaking out. I want to fall asleep with a cock inside me the whole time, wake up to it fucking me, keeping me open. College is gonna be the best. Then I can finally do what I want, fuck who I want. Can finally order a freaking vibrator without mom asking what’s in the package. Ugh, I can’t wait.

Sam’s voice sounds unnatural reading out your words. He’s not putting the right emotion or inflection in them. It’s like he’s taunting you with them. There’s a trace of humour underlying everything he says.

“Why are you doing this?” you shout again, and Sam looks up at you from your diary, a smug smile on his lips.

“Because you’re sick, Y/N,” he states it like an obvious fact, shutting the diary with a loud clunk and waving it back and forth. “These are the words of an addict.”

“I’m not an addict,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. Sam raises his eyebrows at you and flicks open your diary again, thumbing through to a page he has marked with a turned down corner.

February 3rd

That’s it, I’m addicted to cock. I need it more than coffee or air or food. I just want to be on my knees all day and let men use me. I want them in my mouth, in my pussy, even in my ass, I don’t care. I just want them. One day I’ll figure out how to make that happen.

Sam gives you an accusatory look as he closes the diary again, and you do have the good sense to look a little sheepish. Having your thirsty words read back to you is embarrassing. Especially considering the man reading them out is extremely attractive. If you’d met him when you were out you would have been on him in a heartbeat.

You can’t help it, your eyes drop to his crotch, which is just below your eye level where he’s leaning against the front edge of his desk. Dr. Winchester notices your gaze and smirks down at you knowingly. The expression makes him even hotter – domineering and sexy.

“You really are a little slut. Get carted off to rehab and the first thing you do is eye up your therapist,” he clicks his tongue disappointedly, and you blush for a moment before you decide that you don’t want to take this shit from him.

“So what,” you shrug, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms. Dr. Winchester raises a brow again, surprised by your boldness.

“You don’t think it’s inappropriate to think about your therapist in a sexual manner?” He pushes himself off his desk and settles his hands in his pockets, considering you carefully.

“I like cock, so what?” you say again defiantly. The doctor keeps his expression neutral, walking around his desk and sitting down, grabbing a notepad and scribbling down a few things. You watch him suspiciously, wanting to know what he was writing down. “I’m not crazy, I just really like sex.” Dr. Winchester nods and keeps writing, not looking up at you.

“Come on, are you saying you don’t like sex?” you try to rile him up, and you see a small laugh bleed through his careful exterior, but not the kind of reaction you were hoping for. “What, your manhood not measure up or something?” That gets the doctor’s attention. He shoots you a glare over his desk and puts aside his pen, folding his hands in front of him and staring you down. His eyes drag across you from top to bottom, lingering on your lips, your neck, your cleavage, your legs. You like him looking at you like this, it sends a thrill through your chest, settling in the pit of your stomach.

“I can see that your attitude is going to make traditional therapies somewhat difficult.” You roll your eyes, but let him keep talking. “Have you heard of aversion therapy?” You shake your head shortly. “Aversion therapy is a psychological treatment in which the patient,” Dr. Winchester gestures to you, “is exposed to a stimulus while simultaneously being subjected to some form of discomfort, in an attempt to discourage said behaviour.”

“Um, English, please?” you stare at the doctor blankly, not putting together how this is going to apply to you.

“Well,” Dr. Winchester leans back in his chair, and swings his legs up onto his desk and brings his hands to fold in his lap. It makes him look surprisingly casual - not at all the image you had of doctors and therapists in your mind. “In this case, the stimulus is an unwanted behaviour, your over zealous sexual cravings and actions. We need to introduce an element of discomfort or unpleasantness into your experience of that behaviour, to discourage future indulgences,” he explains.

“What are you gonna do, Doctor?” you sneer at his title. “Put me in an electroshock chair and make me watch porn? Newsflash - that sounds amazing,” you scoff. Honestly, if that’s going to be your therapy, you’ll drop the attitude and sign the fuck up right now.

Dr. Winchester shakes his head, a small smirk on his lips. He stands, removing his jacket and tossing it on the back of the chair, then proceeds to unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves and roll them back, one at a time. You watch him suspiciously. The moment his jacket came off your head went straight to one conclusion, but that couldn’t be right. You find your eyes lingering on his forearms, the veins in them pulsing visibly just below the surface of his skin. You want to lick them.

“No you’re right, you’d enjoy that far too much.” The doctor’s voice brings you back to yourself and you look up, watching him slowly approaching your chair. “We won’t be associating a physical discomfort with the addiction, what we want is to alter your mental associations towards the behaviour. We’ll use a series of mantras, and repetition and after a period of good, focused work, we can start to transition you back to a home environment.” His hand comes up to grip the back of your wooden chair, right beside your ear, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body against your skin despite the several inches still separating you.

Between your legs, you can feel how much Dr. Winchester’s proximity is beginning to affect you. For some reason the way he’s speaking to you, so formal and condescending, is really turning you on. You bet if he knew, he’d just say it was another sign of your “addiction”. You can feel your panties starting to get a little slippery when you shift in your seat to look up at him, and you don’t manage to stifle your small intake of breath when the open crotch of the underwear accidentally catches on one of your pussy lips, sending a delicious tug of pain into your core.

Dr. Winchester smirks down at you, entirely unsubtle, probably assuming that gasp was your reaction to him being so near.

Finally, after far too long staring at him, you manage to take a breath and ask- “what exactly is my therapy going to be, then?” Your voice comes out much higher than you’d anticipated, and you feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

Dr. Winchester’s hand drags along the top of the chair and lands on the back of your neck. You shiver when his skin touches yours, despite its warmth. His fingers wind themselves into your hair a second later and yank hard, pulling your head over the back of the chair so you’re forced to look straight up at him.

“Ow! What the hell?!” You reach behind you to try to break his grip but he just pulls again. The pain sends a new tendril of desire twisting down your spine to between your legs, and you feel your panties getting even wetter. You whimper, your arousal clearly evident to the doctor, who laughs.

“Yeah, I knew you’d be too into pain for that kind of thing to work,” he chuckles darkly. He bends down, face so close to yours you can feel his breath ghost against your cheek. “So here’s what we’re going to do instead. I’m gonna fuck you, but you’re going to make sure you don’t enjoy it. You’re going to cry and yell and beg me to stop.” He practically growls, nose brushing against yours, lips hovering just out of reach.

Your pussy clenches at his words, aroused beyond belief at the disdain he’s treating you with. You struggle against his grip deliberately, relishing in the renewed sting as his hand pulls your hair even tighter to keep you still.

“You really don’t get it, do you Dr. Winchester,” you try to laugh but your throat is taut and your air isn’t quite flowing easily enough to let you. “I like cock. I wanted you to fuck me the second I saw you. There’s nothing you could say or do that would make me want you to stop.”

“I think we can drop the formalities now,” he releases you, standing up and reaching for his belt. “It’s Sam, not ‘Doctor Winchester’.”

Your eyes drop to his hands immediately, watching his fingers deftly push his button through its hole and pull down his zip. He’s already hard, you can tell by the tent in his boxers, but you’re astonished to see when he pulls himself out that he’s actually only semi hard – his cock is just huge. You feel your mouth and your pussy water in equal measure.

“Fuck,” you whisper as he starts to stroke himself, eyes tracing up and down your body hungrily as he does so.

“You want this cock, Y/N?” he asks pointedly, and you nod mutely. “Use your words then.”

“Yes,” you breathe instantly, dropping to your knees on the hard, grey carpet in front of him.

“Then you don’t get it,” Sam smirked, contradictorily walking himself closer to you as he speaks, hand still pumping his cock.

“Please?” you beg, hoping that’s the game he’s trying to play. Maybe he thinks he can humiliate you enough that you won’t want to repeat the experience – he’s going to be wrong.

“Nope.” Sam pops the ‘p’ on the word teasingly. “Your mantra for today is ‘no’.”

“What?” you look up to him, confused.

“Anytime I ask you if this is what you want – if you want my cock in your mouth, in your pussy, anywhere I want to put it – anytime I ask you if you want it, you have to say ‘no’,” he smiles down at you like some kind of evil genius, and you’re getting annoyed now that you find this so fucking hot.

“You want me to pretend you’re raping me? Sounds like you need therapy.” Sam laughs, not at all offended by your jab.

“We’re trying to condition a new response, Y/N,” he explains lightly, still jacking himself off maddeningly close to your lips. It takes every ounce of self control you have not to lean forward and suck him down on the spot. “If you want my cock inside you, then you have to tell me you don’t. And hopefully, with time, you’ll start to believe what you’re saying out loud. You’ll believe that you don’t need this, don’t want this.” He taps his cock against your lips and your tongue chases him immediately, reaching for a taste of the liquid you felt pooling on his tip.

“Uh, uh, uh,” he pulls himself away, tutting. “What do you say, Y/N?”

You swallow your pride and give him what he’s asking, though begrudgingly.

“No, please, don’t.” Your voice is monotone, lifeless – like how you used to read out loud in English class when the teacher called on you.

“C’mon, you know that’s not good enough. How are you going to believe yourself if I don’t believe you?” Sam walks closer again and sets his cock against your mouth lightly. “You wanna suck my cock, baby?”

“No,” you manage to choke out, and your hesitance to say the word must sound like hesitance to give him a blow job because Sam buys it, and the next moment he’s pushing the shiny, pink head past your lips, against your tongue; not stopping until he hits the top of your throat. He pulls back again, taking himself completely out of your mouth.

“You want it?” he asks again, grinning down at you.

“No,” you whimper, while inside every fibre of your body is screaming – yes!

“Good girl,” he groans as he pushes himself back inside, and you moan along with him. This time he doesn’t stop himself, fucking all the way into your throat until your nose is pressed against the skin of his stomach. “Fuck, you really are a cockslut,” Sam grunts above you, pulling back a little and starting to fuck your mouth in earnest. “You haven’t gagged once. Not many girls manage that with me.”

You believe him. Your jaw is already aching from the stretch of your lips around his girth but you savour the hurt. You love this; being on your knees for some guy you barely know with his cock shoved as far in as he can fit it. This is what you were made for, you know it, no matter how hard Sam’s going to try to talk you out of it.

He fucks your throat for a few more minutes, lulling you into a false sense of security. You’ve relaxed into it now, and you aren’t thinking about the therapy or the role play or any of it, you’re only thinking about his cock against your tongue, heavy and velvety and perfect. You cry out when he pulls away, taking in a shocked breath at the sudden emptiness.

“You want it back baby girl?” Sam asks breathlessly, and you allow yourself a moment to feel smug at how clearly affected he is by your ministrations.

“Please,” you beg, crawling towards him, forgetting your lines. Sam pulls away, disappointment evident on his face.

“Wrong answer, Y/N.”

“No!” you shout hoarsely, trying to correct yourself. “I mean no, please, no.”

“No,” Sam sucks in a breath, reaching to pull up his trousers like he’s going to put himself away. “No, I don’t think I believe you.”

“No, Sam, please!” you beg, reaching out for him. “I can do this,” you whisper, and Sam lets you take his cock in your hand, wrapping his fingers over yours and guiding your strokes. “Ask me again?”

“Do you want my cock, Y/N?” Sam raises an eyebrow.

“No,” you say firmly. “No, don’t make me do this.”

“Good girl,” he says again, his hand tightening over yours and using you to jerk himself off. “Do you want my cock, Y/N?”

“No,” you whine, trying to play into it even though your fingers start trying to jack him off faster of their own accord, your hands slipping together over the saliva you’d left behind.

“Do you want my cock in your pussy?” Sam growls, reaching his free hand out to snag your hair and pulling hard, causing you to shout out in delicious pain.

“No!” you squeal, trying to pull out of his hold, hoping you can act your way through this convincingly enough to get what you really want.

“No, whore?” Sam spits on you harshly, the wet striking you on the cheek and dripping down your chin.

“No,” you scream again as he pulls you off of the ground by your hair, throwing you forwards over his desk. Books and pads of paper go crashing to the ground. Pens scatter around you when your elbow hits the mug that was holding dozens of them.

“No?” you hear Sam scoff as he flips up the hem of your patient-issued uniform skirt, spotting the pair of crotchless panties you’re wearing beneath. “You’re telling me a slut like you, who gets put in an insititution for sex addiction, and decides to pack crotchless fucking panties, doesn’t want my cock stuffing her cunt full?”

“No, I don’t want it,” you moan, his words positively setting you on fire. Fuck, you want everything he’s saying and more.

“I don’t fucking believe you,” Sam spits between your legs, adding to the slick that must be visibly gathered there by now.

“No!” you cry out when he delivers a stinging blow to your pussy, palm landing right over the open slit of your panties. “No,” you sob out again as he continues to spank you, each hit making a sickly wet echo and sending a jolt of heat through your clit every time his fingers happen to catch it. “No, no, no,” you’re begging, even as you spread your legs wider and push your hips back into his hand, trying to angle yourself so he hits your small bundle of nerves more frequently.

“You’re fucking loving this aren’t you,” Sam is seething behind you. “I can feel how wet you are, you fucking whore. You want my cock now, huh? Want me to put all this slick to good use?” He dips his fingers into the crotch of your panties and comes away with his fingers drenched in your juices, which you see a moment later when he shoves them in your face, yanking you back by your hair again.

“See this slut? See how I can tell you’re lying to me? What’s all this for if it’s not to get you ready for my cock?”

“N–” you try to protest, needing him to believe you if you want to actually feel his cock inside you, but your words are cut off as he shoves his fingers into your mouth, making you lick yourself off his hand.

“That’s right, taste what a fucking embarrassment you are.” Sam lets go of your hair and from the corner of your eye you see his fingers reaching for one of the pens that you knocked onto the desk earlier. Pulling his fingers out of your mouth, he uncaps the pen and crouches down behind you, putting your pussy at eye level for him.

“I think we should let the world know just how much of a slut you really are.” You wonder what he means, feeling him draw a single line down your right buttock, then switching to your left and writing some words. “Now anyone who fucks you is gonna see my instructions, and know they have to leave a tally mark right here.” He slaps your ass hard where he had just drawn his own. “And every time you come back to me for a session with more tallies than you left with the last time I saw you, that’s just one more time you’re gonna have to go through this with me. To make sure we really break you out of this habit.”

You silently wonder how many guys there are in this hospital that you might want to fuck. He spanks you again and you clench, pussy convulsing at the threat and the thought of men keeping count of the cocks you’ve taken by literally writing it on your body. You feel a trickle of slick start to make its way down your thigh, and you know Sam must have noticed because he laughs darkly.

“You like the sound of that, don’t you? Are you already planning how to rack up your score as soon as I let you out of this office?” he sneers vehemently.

“No,” you shake your head, even though it’s entirely true. “No, I don’t want that, I promise, I don’t.”

“But you still want my cock?” Sam questions, and you feel the tip of his dick start to drag against you, up and down the slit of your panties.

“No, I don’t want it,” you insist, trying to keep yourself from pushing back onto him.

“Good girl, Y/N,” Sam pets at your lower back and braces himself as he starts to sink in. You both moan when he enters you, but to your chagrin he stops when he only has an inch or so inside. “You want me to keep going?” he pants, and you’re pleased to hear that he’s not as composed now that he’s got the head of his cock wedged between your legs.

“No,” you shake your head quickly, silently praying for him to continue.

“Very good,” he groans, and begins to thrust into you again; tiny, sharp motions to ease himself into you bit by bit.

“No, stop,” you whine without prompting, hoping to encourage him to go faster. He does. “No, no, no,” you chant until he’s sheathed himself completely inside you, his hips pressed firmly into yours, his hands squeezing around your waist possessively.

“No?” Sam asks teasingly, pulling out a little.

“No!” you cry again, and this time you do mean ‘no’ – you don’t want him to leave you. At your cry Sam pushes back in harshly, snapping his hips back against yours and moaning, the sound bubbling up deep from his chest. “No,” you try repeating the phrase, testing your theory, and you’re rewarded by Sam withdrawing and fucking back into you piercingly.

“Please stop, please,” you whimper, not able to stop yourself from rocking back into his thrusts as Sam starts a punishing pace.

“You fucking liar, you love this you little cockslut,” Sam grunts pointedly, taunting you.

“No,” you insist, still meeting him thrust for thrust. “No I don’t want this, I don’t want you!”

“You’re always going to want cock, always gonna beg for it.”

“No!”

“You want me to stuff you full everyday don’t you? Maybe more than that. I bet you’d sit under my desk all day with my cock in your mouth if I told you to,” he laughs, his harsh pace becoming even quicker. He’s not fucking you deeply now but that means that every time he pushes in the head of his cock punches hard against the sweet spot on the front of your pussy, making you clench around him.

“No,” you shudder, feeling yourself close to the brink of your release, and you wonder what he’ll do when you cum – a clear demonstration that you’re fucking loving this, despite what you’re saying out loud.

“Say it louder, bitch,” he grunts, reaching down and spanking hard against your clit.

“No, no, stop!” you shout, desperately trying to fuck yourself on his cock, your orgasm just out of reach.

“You want to cum on my cock?” Sam slaps you again but then starts to rub tiny circles just where you need them.

“N–no,” you stutter, unable to hold back your moan.

“You don’t want to cum baby, you sure?” he teases, angling his hips so he’s fucking your sweet spot with each drive into you.

“No,” you whine, voice pitching higher as you feel yourself right there.

“No?” You can hear from Sam’s voice that he’s pouting at you, mocking you. “You don’t want to cum baby? Not gonna cum on my big, fat cock fucking you so good?” You clench around him, your toes curling, straining… “Come on you little slut, fucking cum already. Thought whores like you were supposed to be easy? Huh? Want you to cum for me, Y/N.”

“No, no, no, no, no–” you lose track of what you’re saying as you cum, screaming into your arm so you don’t accidentally say something to make Sam stop fucking you. Thankfully, he doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your orgasm and your come down, hips snapping more and more erratically as you bury your face in his desk and try to catch your breath.

Suddenly, the weight of his body is gone, and then there’s a warm jolt between your legs, and you know he’s cumming – aiming his load at the top of your panties and letting it drip down through the open crotch. You moan high in your throat at the feeling of his release soaking into your underwear, mixing with your own juices, which are already leaking out of you and dripping onto his desk.

“That was a really good session, Y/N,” Sam says, and you’re surprised to hear how composed he sounds, though a little breathless. “I think this is going to be a good strategy for you.” He walks around to the other side of his desk and starts to pick up the books and papers you’d knocked down earlier.

Slowly, you peel yourself up off his desktop, your skin sticking to the surface with sweat that’s already started to dry.

“Go clean yourself up, Y/N,” Sam instructs, not looking at you as he continues to tidy his desk. You turn to go, still in your post-orgasmic daze, but you spin back around when Sam calls your name again. “Oh, and Y/N?” you look at him curiously, and a smirk curls slowly across his lips as you watch. “You better keep the tally marks, or there’ll be consequences next session.”

“Yes, Dr. Winchester,” you agree quietly and slip out of his office into the hallway, walking back to your room behind an orderly, with Sam’s cum still dripping down your thighs. You think about the tally he’d left on your body, and you look up at the orderly, who’s now stopped at the door to your room and holding it open for you.

As you pass him, you keep your eyes trained at the ground, and glance sideways to surreptitiously inspect the man next to you. The hospital scrubs do nothing to hide his endowment. You smile brightly, bringing your eyes up the rest of his body, taking in the muscles in his arms and the name tag on his chest, before landing on his face.

“Thanks, Dean.” You walk into your room, eyes flicking back to see Dean still standing there, watching you walk towards your bed. You bend over to grab something off the bottom shelf of your nightstand, not caring what you grab, just knowing that you’re now giving Dean a full display of your ass – Sam’s writing and Sam’s cum decorating your skin.

The door behind you shuts quietly.

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smileyoongle · 3 years

Text

Falling for a lounge singer (Yandere!Mafia! BTS)// Kim Taehyung

Requested anonymously.

Summary: Working as a part time singer, you never thought you'd find yourself becoming the centre of attention of a man's life, especially one who you can't run from.

Word Count: 2.5K

The city was laid out brightly before you, cool wind making your hair stick to your glossy lips as you rested your elbows on the railing of the rooftop. Working for hours amidst people who were rich and liked to show off was stressful, especially when you knew you didn't fit in between them. If it wasn't for your voice, no one would even give you a second glance but there you were, attracting loud applauds every time you held the mic. It made you feel almost cocky but your conscience didn't allow it, reminding you of your place in this world time and time again.

With a soft sigh, you stared at the pretty sky, the stars scattered across it twinkling to grab your attention yet failing to do so. Because even though you loved the peace and quiet, your mind was restlessly loud tonight. Loud with thoughts about a man you had seen too many times, but never had the pleasure of meeting. A man who had sent you a single white freesia every night before disappearing without a word.

But tonight was different. Because he wasn't here. In fact, he hadn't been here for the last three days and if you were being honest, you missed him.

You missed his dark eyes that gazed at you with so much fervour that it made you dizzy. You missed how his attention made you feel like it was just the two of you in the room. You missed how he was so mysterious that you had convinced yourself to approach him. Yet, he managed to really slip away this time.

Glancing at the dried freesia in your hand, you traced it's dead petals, barely hanging on as the rest of it began to fall apart. This was the last one you had found near your vanity, not having seen another since he disappeared.

"Where did you go?" You mumbled, twirling the stem between your fingers, being as gentle as you could. There was no way for you to know if you'd ever see him again because every time you asked the staff about him, they just brushed you off by saying how some things were better left unknown. It made you wonder what was so bad about him that no one was willing to say a word.

"I'm right here, petal."

A deep voice stated from behind you, your heels quickly making you turn around to see who it was but the darkness and the distance between you two made it hard for you to tell. You frowned, watching the man's silhouette move closer to you, your fingers tightly holding onto your flower. And as soon as your eyes took in his face, your lips fell apart in a silent gasp.

There he was, looking at you with the same passion that his eyes held every time you saw him. You could feel your heart lose its rhythm, pounding erratically in your chest making you almost breathless. He was a lot more beautiful up close, your mind not having prepared you for seeing him here at all. Upon seeing you so speechless, he let out a low chuckle, one of his hands curled behind his back as his fitted black shirt hugged his biceps perfectly.

"Is this my punishment for having left you alone? You refuse to talk to me?" He asked, tilting his head to study your expression better. You remained silent, still processing the fact that the man you were so desperately looking for, was now standing so close to you. A part of you wanted to tell him that you could never be mad at him when he looked like an angel but your tongue stayed tied.

He hummed at your silence, taking another step towards, his eyes glancing at the dead flower that stayed intact between your fingers. Slowly, you felt his hand hold your wrist, a shiver running down your spine at his touch. Bringing it up, he took away the flower, throwing it somewhere to the side only to present another freesia before you, this one a striking red that made your heart skip a beat. You held onto its stalk as your mystery man placed it between your fingers, your cheeks growing warm at the way his eyes stayed fixated on your face.

“Red?” You asked, returning his gaze with an equally feverish one, his lips morphing into a smile upon hearing your voice.

“And she speaks.” He laughed lowly, his deep melody echoing in the silence of the night. Taking yet another step towards you, he placed his hands on the railing behind you, trapping you in close proximity. Your back rested firmly against the bars, your chest almost touching his.

“Yes, petal. Red. Do you know what it means?” He murmured, only loud enough for you to hear. Lost in his eyes, you didn’t notice the hand that was now tucking your hair behind your ear, your lips being the sole focus of the man’s attention. Resting his palm against your cheek, you found yourself leaning into his warmth, sighing at the butterflies you felt in your stomach.

“No,” you answered, closing your eyes when you saw him lean down until his lips grazed the shell of your ear. His long fingers brushed your hair away from your neck, your own hand clutching the flower tightly to calm your heart that was about to jump out of your chest.

“It symbolizes passion,” he whispered, his hands moving down to hold your waist and pull you flush against him. Speechless, you rested your hands on his chest, biting your lip as your forehead fell against his shoulder.

“Who are you?” You inquired, finally asking the question that had been gnawing at you ever since you saw him. A dead silence fell over the both of you all of a sudden, a frown etching onto your forehead as you were made to pull away from him a little. You found yourself missing his embrace, feeling as though you had known him for a long long time.

“You don’t know me,” he said, more like telling himself again rather than asking you. Gently shaking your head, you placed your gaze on his chest, a peek of white bandages catching your eye from beneath the few buttons that were left open at the top of his shirt. Without a thought, you moved it a little to the side, your eyes widening at the small red patch that stained the centre of the dressing, your lips parting in shock at the realisation that it was, indeed, blood.

“What happened?” You asked, worry and concern lacing your voice. He pursed his lips, his jaw clenching ever so lightly along with his hold on your waist which grew tighter. Wincing in pain, you looked at him in confusion, wondering if you had said something to upset him. And before you could ask him, he said something that perished all the warm feelings that had been brewing in your chest lately.

“My name is Kim Taehyung, Y/N. And I’ll be really mad if you decide to run away now.”

With eyes as wide as they could be, you stood frozen in his arms, your heart thudding loudly in your chest. Fear consumed your entire being, your throat running dry at the very thought of being here with Kim Taehyung, the man who was responsible for the rise of one of the biggest cartels in the world. His hands were stained with the blood of god knows how many people, the wound on his chest suddenly making a lot of sense. Losing your grip on his shirt, you let your arms fall to your sides, unmoving and unable to process the situation anymore.

Suddenly, you were aware of his burning touch all over you, your mind screaming at you to get away from him. Yet you didn’t make a move, because you knew very well that you were almost nothing in front of a trained killer who could snap your neck in the blink of an eye. Parting your lips, you willed yourself to scream as loud as you could, failing yet again with his icy glare staring you down.

Gone were all the emotions you had witnessed in his eyes a few minutes ago, making you feel as if this was a whole new man that you had never met before. A tear ran down your cheek, your brain slowly hitting you with the mixed amount of emotions that were driving you insane. You were hurt, scared, disappointed in yourself and a lot more you couldn’t yet place a finger on.

“Y/N,” his voice brought you back to him, wary of the hand that was now wiping away your tears. Eyeing him cautiously, you tried to think fast, escaping him being the only agenda on your mind right now.

Taehyung knew what you were thinking, it didn't take a genius to know that all you wanted was to run away from him before things became a mess. But it was too late now, your innocence having left Taehyung mesmerized a long time ago. And now that you were so close to him, he was ready to do anything to make you stay.

"I don't wanna die," you said, your voice wavering with the dying confidence that burnt in you like a flickering flame. Being in his arms felt good, but knowing that those hands could also push you off the roof without anyone finding out was a thought that overcame everything else.

"And you won't, petal. Just because I'm a dangerous man, doesn't mean I would lay a finger on you," he answered, quickly catching onto the fact that you thought of him as a killer. It hurt him to know that you so easily forgot every other feeling you had been sheltering all this time, his identity crumbling down to nothing in your mind. But he would fix it.

He would fix you.

His words were enough to let you know that he wasn't planning on letting you leave, convincing you seemingly the only thing on his mind. At this point, violence seemed your only answer, your eyes once more taking in the sight of the bandaging on his chest.

"I'm sorry," you apologized beforehand, inhaling nervously at his confused expression before digging your nails into his chest. A growl left his mouth immediately, his hands letting go of your waist as you pushed him to the side with all your strength and bolted towards the door.

Taehyung fell to the floor behind you, his hand covering his shirt right where the wound was, the wetness of the blood seeping through his bandages. He hissed in pain, closing his eyes as he rested his head against the wall. The sound of your cries felt like music to his ears, your small fists banging on the door which had been locked the second Taehyung stepped onto the rooftop. It was funny of you to think that you could overpower Kim Taehyung so easily, your obliviousness once again showing through your stupid attempt to escape him.

Tears ran down your cheeks upon the realisation that you were stuck here with him, your heart pounding in your chest just like your hands against the door. You were a fool to think Taehyung wasn't fully prepared. Of course he had expected this from you. Of course he was one step ahead of you.

"Please, someone open the door!" You begged, sobbing with your forehead against the cold metal, slowly sinking to your knees. Just then, you heard his laugh, deeply resonating around you as you frowned in silence. It was endless, not the kind of laughter you'd hear after a joke but the kind you'd hear only with the intention of being mocked. He was laughing at you and your silly attempt of running away from him, knowing very well that Kim Taehyung did not let go of things that he so desperately craved. You being one of them.

"Did you think it was that easy, Y/N?" He asked, his voice dripping with amusement. Turning around to face him, you stared at him with teary eyes, watching his painful state with a heart full of regret. You weren't one to hurt people at all, let alone intentionally and yet you had taken such a drastic leap tonight. To save yourself. That was truly justified, wasn't it?

"Petal, even if you had managed to leave this place, I'll have you know that I'll always find you." He grinned maliciously, making you truly scared of him. Gritting his teeth, he stood up, your back pressing against the door as he slowly proceeded to stalk towards you, his gaze pinning you down and rendering you unable to move. You felt like a prey before him, his angry eyes telling you just how much you had pissed him off.

"I just wanna go home," you stated, frowning at him with wet cheeks and quivering lips. Halting right before you, Taehyung kneeled down, his hand coming to rest against your cheek.

"And we'll go, Y/N. We'll go to our home," he mumbled almost lovingly, his eyes glistening with so much affection that if you didn't know any better, you'd think he loved you. The truth of the situation though, was that Kim Taehyung was obsessed with you and there was no way you were going to let him take you.

"N-no, I wanna go to my home," you dared, Taehyung's jaw clenching upon hearing your words. Within a second, his fingers dug into both your cheeks, your lips pouting at the force with which he was holding your jaw in place. Leaning closer to you, Taehyung's nose brushed against yours, your own hand taking hold of his wrist to make him let go.

"What a shame it'd be to know that your little sister had to die because you couldn't make the right decisions."

Eyes widening, you let out a whimper at his threat, your breath having been knocked out for a second. It was as if the world had stopped around you, your heart wishing that this was all just a bad dream. The thought of anything happening to your sister was enough to break your will, especially since you were the only one she had. If she were to get hurt because of the one person who was supposed to protect her, then you couldn't even begin to imagine how meaningless your own life would become.

Taehyung loosened his grip on your jaw, watching you cry harder because of what he had said. It hurt him to know that you were crying because of him but he had to say it. Sure, you were hurt right now, maybe you even hated him but he knew that once you became his, you'd never have to see a bad day in your life. He would love you so hard that you'd never think about anyone else ever again. It was going to be just you and him. Forever.

"I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt her." You cried, sealing your fate with the devil with no chance of going back. Smiling fondly at you, Taehyung wiped your tears, the stench of blood hitting your nose only for you to see his crimson tainted hand grazing your cheek.

"I'll take very good care of you, petal. Don't you worry your little head," he cooed, your eyes staring at him with horror. You could feel the blood now staining your cheek, Taehyung's eyes adoring it with a hint of madness. His blood on your skin was like his name on a trophy, a sign of who it belonged to. And it gave Taehyung an immense amount of pleasure to see your innocence tainted with his filthy gore. The colour red was yours and Taehyung couldn't wait to paint you in it.

"We'll be drowning in love soon, just wait and watch."

A/N: Hiiii, see I am back again! I don't have much to say today cause I am really sad for some reason. You know, the kind of sad that makes you wanna just sit and cry all night? Yeah, it's THAT!

Anywayyyy! I'll probably be posting each member in a break of 4-5 days because I want each member to get their fill. Soooo, the next one comes in a while! Till then, have fun, guys. Ily<3

#bts #bts imagines #bts reactions #smileyoongle #mafia bts imagines #bts yandere #yandere bts imagines #bts taehyung #yandere taehyung #mafia taehyung #mafia boss taehyung #yandere mafia taehyung #mafia taehyung reaction #mafia bts reactions #yandere bts reactions

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yesimwriting · 3 years

Text

Solace.

SUMMARY: you find yourself going to visit General Kirigan in the night.

PAIRING: The Darkling/General Kirigan x heart render! reader

Warnings: the beginning of a toxic relationship

The urge to flinch away from and melt into the feeling of his fingertips, too temptingly warm, as he grazes them across my knuckles and up to my wrist is almost overwhelming. When the unexpected contact is something I manage not to shy away from, Kirigan’s touch becomes more confident, turning my wrist in order to expose my palm. He lets out a low breath, if he was anyone else I’d think that a sound of tiredness. He drags his index finger down the back of my wrist and over the lines etched into my palm. There’s a new tension to his touch as if he’s searching for invisible answers in the natural creases of my skin.

“You could stay,” Kirigan’s voice is as supple and alluring as sin, “Just for tonight.”

Waiting him in any capacity twists at my heart in a way I can’t comprehend or justify. There is so much of him I do not know, so much of him that’s darker than the inky shadows he bends to his will. “People will speak.”

It’s the kind of shy cop-out he doesn’t like. The kind of shyness that leaves everyone losing. I can make out the way he pulls his eyebrows together despite the only light in the room coming from a small lantern on his bedside table. I’m not sure if I’ve displeased him. Perhaps I’ve reminded him of why he felt the need to take me from everything I’ve known. Maybe he’s seeing how far I am from what he wants me to be, or maybe he’s seeing the opposite. I’m not sure which possibility scares me more. I’m not sure if I want him to turn me away or persist that I stay.

“If you’re defined by what people say,” he taps the back of my hand as if to mark his point, straightening and letting the contact between us disappear, “You’ll never be what you want to be.” The tone he uses is one you’d use to scold a child, “Did anyone see you?”

I don’t think he’s trying to fluster me with potential scandal, but the lack of warmth from the returned absence of his proximity is making this situation a lot less appealing. And without his easing touch, I’m too clear headed to ignore the dangers of this.

“No,” I try to sound factual, nonchalant and at peace with this entire situation.

The tilt of his head tells me that none of the casualness I’m desperately trying to manufacture on a surface level at least came off as believable. He takes a partial step forward, extending his hand and casually squeezing my hand, pressing my fingers into my palm.

“You came to me, little wolf.” I swallow back my embarrassment. It had been a lapse in judgement driven by what...a deep loneliness that comes with being taken away from everyone you’ve ever known? “Why?”

I wish I had an answer to that for myself. Because he’s the only one that speaks to me as if I am not less than? Because each short brush of our hands has made me yearn to know what purposeful touches from him would feel like? Because it’s dark and I hate being alone in the dark? Because I can’t sleep without seeing every mistake I’ve made?

Yes. I could attribute my lapse in judgement to all of this. I could attribute my mistake to some other factor that my mind cannot process. Exhaling slowly, I reach for his pulse with my mind, hoping to see if he truly is as calm and steady as he seems.

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are.” The words are enough to stall me before I can feel more than two heartbeats. They seemed even, but I didn’t hear enough off of them to be sure.

I swallow back the embarrassment of being caught. “How?”

If I didn’t know any better I’d consider the easy quirk of his mouth as an almost smile. “An answer for an answer?”

More generous than he usually is. I keep my jaw as set as I can manage. “I don’t--I’m not sure why.”

He keeps his face unreadable. “You swore you’d never look for anything from me, that you would never…” Kirigan shifts closer. “That I’d always be a villain to you.”

There’s a surprising amount of restraint in his words. Had I hurt him? The ridiculousness of my thoughts causes me to wrinkle my. He is a villain, he has to be, and yet here I am. “My insults do get particularly creative when I’m upset.” My attempt at humor falls oddly flat. Kirigan’s clearly not in the mood for a lighter atmosphere. “I wish I knew why I came here.”

Shifting even closer, he raises a hand. I don’t understand what his intentions are until I feel a brush of knuckles against my cheek. The touch is too soft, too much of a reminder of all the absence...all the places where we’re not touching and the fact that I resent that.

“When you tap into your abilities your brow furrows,” he pulls his hand away from my cheek and gently taps the space above my left eyebrow, “Right there.” Oh. Such a small thing to pick up on. “Even when you’re not doing anything particularly strenuous--it’s more an act of habit.” I don’t know if there’s a way to respond to that. “And when something upsets you that you want to play off, your eyebrows furrow here,” he touches the space between my two eyebrows. “As opposed to when you’re particularly focused on something and your,” he pauses, thumb brushing my bottom lip, “Lips press together.”

My stomach flutters and knots all at once. His thumb stays on my bottom lip for longer than it needs to, neither of us in a hurry to leave this moment. I wonder if he’s as afraid of what comes after this moment as I am-- thoughts of both the potential more and the potential nothing make my heart ache. His thumb brushes down the corner of my mouth and chin.

“There’s a danger in desire,” his voice is so low I almost miss it, “But I think you know that by now, little wolf.”

Feeling like a chided child, I dare to raise my chin a fraction of an inch but all that does is press my face into his touch more. “I’m not a victim of desire.”

“I’m glad you feel that way.”

So now he finds humor in the situation. Fantastic. “People should know you more for your wit.”

I don’t hide my sarcasm, but his expression retains all of its easiness. “I guess the ones that matter already do.” The touch of lightheartedness evaporates as quickly as it appeared. “Will you stay?”

This is different from the first time he mentioned me staying. The first time it was an option he presented, but this time, with his voice the closest to vulnerable I’ve ever seen it, he’s requesting my presence. For the first time I let myself picture it. Staying here. Falling asleep here. With him.

Cautiously, I meet his gaze. “Just for tonight, right?”

“Stay with me.” He repeats, a bit more certain, a bit more...needing. “For tonight.”

My body nods once without my permission. I wonder if this is how people feel after I use my abilities on them. That one tiny, unrestrained signal is all he needs. Kirigan angles my head slightly before brushing his lips against my cheek, the warmth of his breath against my skin is enough to leave me melting.

“I--I wish I knew why I came here.” The words are more honest than I intended them to be.

Kirigan pauses, warm breath still fanning across the side of my face. “Maybe it will become clearer when I turn you into my solace and my solace alone so that I may be the only thing you can find comfort in.”

His words are gilded tar, dark and suffocating blackness disguised beneath a thin sheath of gold. “I don’t understa--”

“You will.” The urgency of his tone strips him of all lazy softness. Something in me tenses, the shift too sudden and cold and similar to the way he was in the beginning. The tension does not go unnoticed, Kirigan fights against it easily, brushing his lips against my skin again. “Lets get some rest my little wolf.” He squeezes my arm easily, the touch leaves my skin tingling in warmth. “Tomorrow things will be different for you.”

“Different?”

“Training,” he replies easily, “Together we’ll see what you can do.” His fingers brush up my arm and across my shoulder easily, my breath stalls. “We’ll bring out that facet of your abilities that came out the day we met, and with that we’ll change the world.” I do not think myself a world changer, but the softness of his touch and the praising quality of his tone leave me with no protest. “And we’ll find solace in only each other.”

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lokislastlove · 3 years

Text

Come One, Come All! (Dark!Loki x reader) p.2

Summary: A girls night out to the fair takes an insidious turn.

Warnings: Noncon/Rape, Knife play, Oral (m&f), Smut, Bondage, Kidnapping

This is a dark fic! 18+ ONLY! Explicit Adult content. Please READ THE WARNINGS! Do not continue if these matters upset you!

Authors Note: Here is part 2, for those who have taken a chance on my trash, thank you so much!! I hope I don’t disappoint. ❤️

Chapter 2:

You feel your chest seize and you start to shake as your heart rate skyrockets, your body and mind dissolving into a full blown panic attack as you feel around the black box imprisoning you. You are only locked in for a minute before you hear rustling outside and you are thrown into the wall as the whole box shifts and turns.

“What the fuck. Oh my god, someone help! Please let me out!” Your voice cracks as your pleading grows more desperate with each passing minute.

You try to hold out hope that it’s a prank or part of the experience but after what you were sure had to be at least ten minutes of begging to possibly no one, you sag in defeat. Your eyes burn with hot tears, the temperature inside the box rising the longer you sit there. Stewing in silence and sweat, you listen to anything that might tell you where you have been moved to but the joyful bustle of the carnival fades early on.

You fall asleep hunched at the bottom of the box, arms wrapped tightly around your knees. You don’t know for how long but you are awoken roughly as the box tips over sending you face first into the solid surface. You grunt and stretch out, turning to lay on your back.

“Open it” you hear faintly.

The wall above you is ripped off instantly by a singular muscular arm. Startled, you gasp but manage to hold in the pathetic squeak when you look up into piercing blue eyes shrouded in unruly golden hair. Your own eyes widening as you take in the sheer mass of this man.

The muscles under his sun-kissed skin ripple as he huffs and stands straight. He scratches his bearded jaw, looking over to the darker figure you could barely see standing across from him.

“Yes I can see why you liked this one. Inquisitive eyes. A bit of fire in there, yes?” The hulking blond man raises a brow and smirks at you.

Had you not been in your current situation he would have been the type of man you could drool over for days. But considering the fact that you appear to be kidnapped, his physique only enhances your trepidation.

“Where the fuck am I?” You demand, fighting your soft-spoken nature.

“Yeah, there’s that fire” the large man chuckles deeply. “Want me to put her on the wall?” He asks looking back to his silent counterpart.

“The wall?” You mutter, panic rising again at the prospect of being ‘put’ anywhere.

“Yes, then you may go. Thank you , Thor” The darker mans voice drones, sounding bored.

The larger man, Thor, leans down and goes to grab you, making you scream and try to slap away his arms which is clearly ineffective, considering his bicep is the size of your head. He grabs your wrists easily and pulls you to your feet, you try going limp but he hardly seems to notice as he drags you out of the box. You start kicking and flailing wildly as he tosses you against a hard flat wooden surface attached to the wall. You sob as he takes one of your arms and stretches it straight out and snaps a mounted metal cuff around your wrist. You reach over with your free hand and try to unclasp the lock but he catches you and stretches the other arm out to the other side, rendering you completely helpless.

Arms spread wide, you feel exposed and vulnerable, especially when he traces his hand over your breasts before stepping away. That’s when you finally look at the thing you are mounted to. A circular wooden board painted red and white like a giant target, with you at the center.

“What the hell is this?” You tremble.

“Ankles too, for now” the dark suited man directs from across the room.

“Oh, well aren’t you a lucky girl” Thor chuckles under his breath before kneeling down and spreading your legs, attaching each to a similar iron restraint.

“Please. Please let me go” you plead softly to the bulky blond as he stands straight and smiles at you.

Thor brushes his thumb under your eye, catching a stray tear before sucking it into his mouth and humming.

“So sweet.” He praises before winking at you and leaving the room.

Your eyes settle on the lithe figure facing away from you. He’s tall and although he’s not as thick as Thor, you can tell he doesn’t lack strength either. He sheds his jacket and lays it neatly across the desk in front of him.

“If this is s-some sort of joke, it’s not funny” you stutter.

You watch in horror as he slowly turns to look at you, leaning back on his desk and crossing his ankles.

“You’re a clever girl, does this feel like a prank to you, darling?” His voice is as smooth as silk.

“Why are you doing this? Where are my friends?” You question, dreading the answer.

“Oh they will make fine prizes for the highest bidder. But you, darling… you caught my attention.” He explains blithely, slowly unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling the sleeves up to his elbows.

“Lucky me” you scoff, narrowing your eyes at him as a wave of anger washes over you at the mention of your friends.

“Indeed.” He smiles cruelly.

“I swear to god if you hurt my friends –“ you fume before getting cut off suddenly.

You barely see the silver glint as something small whizzes through the air toward your head. A sharp silver blade sinks into the board next to your head, the shock causing you to choke on a gasp. It was mere inches away from your eye.

“Care to threaten me again?” He smirks, holding another knife in his right hand, the sharp point of it delicately pressing into the middle finger of his left hand.

You gulp as your body shakes uncontrollably, your life seemed to flash before your eyes in that moment. How did he throw that so fast, you say to yourself, the target behind you making more sense now. You shake your head in response to his question, voice lost amongst the adrenaline coursing through you.

“Very well” he nods once, with a small smile.

Your eyes are glued to the dagger in his hand, as he flourishes it about casually. Your muscles tense every time he tosses it gently in the air before catching it.

“Now, I want to know how you solved those riddles so quickly today” he asks lightly before throwing another dagger, this one splintering the wood inches away on the other side of your head. “And no lies.”

You squeak and close your eyes, body trembling so badly you aren’t sure how to form words anymore.

“I – I don’t know. I just did.” You manage to stammer out. “Please stop.”

Another dagger flies through the air, landing with a thud between your thighs.

“Oh my god, please! Please” you cry.

“You know some people could figure out one, maybe two, within the time limit. Most just get the answers from those who went before them. Others just come back repeatedly, mindlessly searching for the keys. But you… such a clever girl” he purred, pushing himself away from the desk still clutching another knife.

“You can hardly blame me for being curious” he continues, taking slow steps toward you.

He stops before you, admiring your terrified expression before dropping his eyes down your body. You pull on the restraints and shift in discomfort at his close proximity. He smiles as his eyes connect once more with your own, his pupils blown wide.

“I’m sorry, okay. I wasn’t trying to – I won’t ever do it again. Just please let me and my friends go,” you beg.

You watch him smirk and sniff at your pathetic pleas, both fully aware you have nothing to offer. He turns and calmly walks back to his desk.

“Ugh let me go you fucking creep! What do you want from me?” Anger and panic causing you to lash out desperately.

He turns and flings another dagger at you, but this time you feel a sharp pain under your arm. You look over to see the dagger pinning your shirt to the board, slowly staining with blood.

“Oh my god!” You scream shifting your arm away from the dagger. “You cut me!”

“Barely more than a scratch. You’ll survive.” He assured you coolly with a roll of his eyes.

You feel the slow flow of warmth trickle down the underside of your arm and you whimper as you watch him near you again. He stops in front of you and pulls the dagger from the board, releasing your shirt. He admires the blade for a moment and then reaches out to you, making you flinch away. His eyes flare at your reaction and he tuts disapprovingly.

“This shirt, however…” he mocks, sliding the sharp end of the blade under the hem of the fabric along your stomach, “I’m afraid it will not.”

You gasp as he brings the knife up cutting through the flimsy material with barely any resistance. You cry as the cool air breezes over your exposed stomach. The useless cloth hanging loosely off your arms.

“Better” he coos his appraisal, as he glides the tip of the knife from your neck to your navel.

Your chest heaves as the reality set in like a boulder dropping in your stomach. You can’t believe this is how your ‘fun night out’ is going. Cursing your luck as you wonder why the hell your intelligence only seemed to lead you to trouble and scummy men.

“All of this because I solved your stupid riddles” you gripe, shaking your head in bitter disbelief.

“Stupid?” He repeats, his face twisting in disgust at the insult.

“Yeah, what is it? You have a problem with women smarter than you? No, that can’t be it, you’d have to be used to that by now.” You sneer.

You don’t know where this boldness is coming from, but something about this man makes you angry, and you figure, what do I have to lose?

His face twists in anger and he slams the dagger into the wall above your head. Your head is now caged in by three sharp knives and yet you suppress a flinch.

“That, wasn’t so smart, darling.” His lip curls in amusement as he backs off slightly and grips the rounded edge of the board spinning it until you are hanging upside down.

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen

#dark fic #dark loki #dark loki x reader #tom hiddleston #come one come all

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blahkugo · 4 years

Text

Sleepless

Shouta Aizawa X Reader (BNHA)

Warnings: 18+, bondage, bratty rc, over-stimulation, umm it’s just pure filth sandwiched between some fluff

Word Count: 3.9k

A good night’s rest? You’ve never heard of her!

“At least take off your heels before you throw yourself into bed,” your boyfriend’s voice rings out, still deeply agitated from a long night of feigned smiles and interest. You know that tone well— the exasperated sigh typically saved for his students at U.A— but the room is spinning too fast for you to take heed of his reprimand.

“M’too tired,” you slur your words, face down against your mattress.

The two of you had been at a pro-hero gala, or as Shouta called it, a “gaudy show of riches for politicians and government dickheads.” It had taken almost all of your energy, and a lot of homemade dishes, to persuade him to accept the invitation; however, he had followed through. He behaved properly all night, smiled and socialized with every partygoer that approached you, and even ensured the vicious insults on the tip of his tongue were whispered into your ears only after each person had turned away. You deemed the night a success, despite waving off Shouta’s warnings about that fourth glass of champagne you downed.

“You’re going to get our covers dirty, idiot.” You can’t help but feel your heart flutter at that word— our. Be it the hundredth or thousandth time, you don’t think you’ll ever get over hearing him refer to the two of you as one. It had taken years for him to warm up to you, after all. While he considers it endearing now, you’re positive Shouta had initially found your constant laughter and positive nature unbearable, thinking of you as simply another nuisance to avoid; never had he met someone who reduced his usual threatening tone to something playful or entertaining. And little did either of you know, he would slowly come to adore the way his scolding amused you.

No amount of persuasion from his students or other heroes can convince you Shouta is actually intimidating. If anything, his constant stoicism only compels you to misbehave more. You love pressing his buttons, take pleasure in watching him get riled up and lose his calm demeanor. But as of this very moment, you’re simply too tired, and a bit too tipsy, to play along. You wave off his words with a flick of your wrist, only to feel a tug at your ankle.

“Wha–”

“Stop squirming. I’m trying to take them off,” he struggles with the straps woven intricately up your calves, “damned things are more tangled than my cloth.” When he finally removes them, you feel the pads of his fingertips graze your legs softly. Shocks travel your entire body as he pays special attention to the indents adorning your skin— drawbacks of the tight laces that are quite easy to disregard when they urge him to touch you so sweetly.

Shouta stalks away for a moment, only to return with a cotton pad and makeup remover. You’re surprised he even knows what products to use, though you know you shouldn’t be. He has spent countless minutes watching you complete your night routine intently, though usually his stare is paired with a sleepy grumble to hurry up and join him in bed.

He shifts you into a sitting position, wiping tenderly at your cheek while you pull off your false lashes.

“Those are fake?” He snorts, baffled.

“Mhhm, I’m prettier without them, right?” You poke fun at him, knowing he’ll ignore the cheesy question. A faint heat rises on his cheeks.

“Shut up and put this on,” he nudges one of his t-shirts into your arms before he slides your strapless dress down your body. Even with your eyes half-shut, you can feel his charged stare ogling every hill and valley of your naked form. His fingers barely skim you— a purposeful maneuver to focus on the task at hand— but your body jerks into his grasp, keen for more. Sleepy or not, you’d never waste an opportunity for a quickie. You know just how swiftly a few words and caresses on his part could have you bucking and sobbing, like putty in his han– “(Y/N), stop. You’re drunk and half-asleep.”

“Only tipsy and a quarter asleep, thank you very much.” Your eyes flutter open to see the beginnings of a smile touch his lips, but he just barely holds it back. He’s trying his damn hardest to remain stern, how cute. “Shou,” you mewl, elongating his name in the hopes that he’ll budge.

“Don’t pout at me,” he taps a chiding finger against your bottom lip, “the answer is no. I still have work to do.” Ignoring your whined protests, Shouta walks out of the bedroom. Seconds later, you hear his office door shut, a sign that he’ll be in there long into the night.

Any inkling of sleepiness your body possessed is gone without a trace, now feeling nothing but an intense heat coursing the skin your boyfriend brushed, and the alcohol left running through your veins only intensifies that warmth. You turn yourself over in bed, naively will yourself to succumb to sleep and deal with the ache tomorrow; however, your body has other plans. Your thighs press together on their own, desperate for any sort of relief to quell the throbbing between your legs, but it’s no use. Looks like you’re getting up.

With each step towards his office, you find yourself more impassioned. Who does Shou think he is anyways, leaving you alone in such a needy state? It’s not fair. He gives you the slightest taste of his touch and then cruelly rips it away. So if anything, it’s his fault that your body won’t rest until completely appeased— until he soothes the burn. Besides, you’ll be damned if you’re going to allow him the pleasure of hearing your moans through the thin walls knowing he goaded you into touching yourself.

Upon walking through the door of his workspace, you’re greeted with the sight of your boyfriend, the stealthy pro-hero, seated ever-so casually at his desk. He has a hand pressed adamantly against his temple and his hair up in a messy half-bun. So badly do you want to run your hands through it, tug the clip off so you can watch those beautiful, dark locks tumble down his shoulders. You always catch yourself silently hoping for a piece to fall in his eyes so that you can reach out and tuck it behind his ear, delighted when you have any excuse to stroke the soft waves between your fingertips.

“Shou,” you mumble, one hand rubbing at lidded eyes. The white glow of the computer screen washes over him as he turns to you, and you feel your breath hitch again at the Adonis in front of you.

He’s opted out of wearing any sort of top. Instead, gray joggers hang low on his hips, allowing you to feast your eyes on his lean chest and softly sculpted v-lines. A dark line of hair trails down into his pants, and you feel your mouth water at the idea of licking a long stripe up his navel.

“Can’t sleep.” You’re aware it comes out a whine, don’t care to correct your tone because it may just convince him to join you in bed. He rolls his eyes, your name flowing off his tongue with a low sigh— music to your ears.

“I have work to catch up on since somebody forced me to go to that stupid gala,” the accusation is probably sincere, but you smile anyways.

“Please,” there’s that whine again, “just five minutes.” This time your words are accompanied by a quick yank at the hem of your t-shirt. Your cleavage makes an appearance, and when you see his eyes wander up towards the supple globes— tongue just barely poking out to slide across his bottom lip— you know you’ve got him beat. He mutters under his breath, but the only words you catch are something along the lines of ‘pampered brat’.

Well, spoiled or not your methods work, and he’s the one indulging your whims anyways. Being curled up against Shouta’s sturdy chest, you find the fatigue of a long night creeping up on you once again. His close proximity is enough to relax you; all of your senses are engulfed in his presence, saturated with him. Your body gladly welcomes his scent with every inhale— clean laundry, aftershave, and something a bit woodier that can only be described as ‘Shouta’. Though he shaved this morning, newly grown stubble scruffs against you every time you nuzzle against his jaw. Slender fingers tangle in your hair, smoothing lazy circles into your scalp. And with your ear pressed to his chest, you realize the slow, steady drum of his heartbeat just might actually lull you into a deep sleep.

But that’s all before you hitch a leg around his hip to pull him closer. At the sensation of your heat nudged tightly against him, you feel his heartbeat rise rapidly. If any thoughts of sleep linger in your mind, the prospect of riling Shouta up— and perhaps securing an orgasm or two in the process— throws them out the window once again.

Your fingertips begin to caress his shoulders subtly, ear still pressed to his chest to listen for any jumps in his rhythm. The less he notices your movements, the easier it’ll be to overwhelm him all at once. When your fingers don’t incite any noticeable response, you run them through his hair instead. At the same time, you feign discomfort at the position you’re in and twist your hips slightly, making sure to press your core against him harder. You feel his breath hitch under you, and then your hair being jerked harshly.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he forces you to look up at his cloudy eyes, always ringed with darkness no matter how much rest he receives. Caught. You flash him your sweetest pout, gazing up at him through dainty lashes. A slight ‘hm?’ leaves your lips, but within seconds, they’re attached to his neck, shamelessly kissing and nibbling at the sweet spot near his jaw. “If you’re not going to behave on your own, I’ll make you.” Your thighs tighten around his hips, goosebumps trailing your arms at the clear-cut threat.

“Do it then,” you urge between kisses, now peppering them up his jaw. Your teeth kiss the shell of his ear before you whisper, “or I’ll just keep misbehaving, daddy.”

In an instant, your face is shoved into the mattress, arms crossed behind your back with Shouta’s cock straining against you through his pants. Rigid cotton brushes against your folds and you realize that perhaps he was expecting this turn of events more than he let on, because the fucker never bothered giving you a change of underwear.

“You’re such a needy slut,” he spits, heated breath fanning your neck while he tightens his grasp around your wrists. “Can’t go one night without getting me worked up, huh?” His free hand darts under your shirt, now kneading and pinching at your ass.

“Nope,” you bite back, always ecstatic to provide sassy retorts, especially when he’s seething like this.

A stinging pain travels your body when he slaps the globe of your ass. Once, twice, five times, each spanking invoking a louder gasp until tears prick the corners of your eyes.

“Are you done acting up?” Shouta’s tone is slow and composed, almost disinterested. If not for his heaving chest pressed against your back, you would believe him unaffected by the punishment.

You, on the other hand, are very obviously flustered. Tears stream down your face freely now, and you’re positive the spanking has left a blazing handprint on your cheek as a reminder for days to come. Shouta gives you a final, petty love tap to shake you out of your thoughts. “I don’t have all night.”

But you’re left unsatisfied, the throbbing between your thighs only worsened by his harsh welts and complete neglect of your clit. He hasn’t made a single motion towards your glistening cunt, probably won’t ever if you simply take his discipline lying down.

“What if I’m not?” The words leave your mouth hesitantly, face turning to stare back at him with wide, unblinking eyes. He doesn’t say a word, his own eyes narrowing and lips quivering into a disgusted scowl. Even though you’ve asked for this, know exactly what situation you’ve gotten yourself into, your heart quickens at the thrill of seeing your partner so worked up. He may not be outwardly angry— Shouta has always been a man who prefers quick, biting remarks over piercing screams and smashing glass— but his mannerisms tell you everything you need to know. It’s going to be a long, sleepless night.

You feel the tight, unforgiving fabric knotted around your body before you’re even aware of what’s happening. Nimble fingers quickly wrap your arms in place. Then, your legs are bent at the knees and tied securely to your wrists. Only your taut midriff and breasts touch the mattress, leaving your sopping core exposed, no way to flail or deny him entrance. You’re his to do whatever he pleases with.

“Behave.” He wraps your hair around his wide palm and yanks hard, a pained cry leaving you at the prickling in your scalp. His fingers graze your slit, but never touch you where you need him. It’s absolutely maddening. You buck into him to no avail— the cloth wraps too firmly around your limbs.

“Shou, I– I, please,” you’re practically sobbing, his name leaving your lips over and over like a prayer. But it doesn’t matter, you’ve angered him.

“Who said you could speak?” He tugs harder on your locks. The motion rocks your skull, all nerves standing on end. It fucking hurts, but the action has your slit quivering all the same. “Are you going to be a good little whore now?”

“Yes, Shou.” The response wins you a sharp slap to the ass, the sore cheek. You suppress a loud wail, correcting yourself quickly. “Y-Yes daddy, I’ll behave.” He doesn’t respond, only lets out a low growl and loosens his grip on your hair.

Then, his presence is gone. He’s moved off the bed, and your cunt pulsates at the number of delicious things he may do next.

A slam rings out from your bedside dresser and he’s back within seconds. Something foreign, hard and long, is pressed against your tight hole. No stretching, no warning, he simply sinks the toy into your slick cunt. After a few merciless thrusts you’re whimpering softly, choking back pleas. If he wanted you to beg, you’d know it.

“Is this what you wanted?” The dildo is driven into you faster. “Is this what you were grinding like a bitch in heat for?” His words are spit like venom, tone disappointed— appalled— with you, but it only fuels your steady ascension to orgasm. You’re teetering closer and closer to the edge, but you just need a bit more. His cock, a finger on your clit, anything.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You can’t help the onslaught of moans that spill from your lips in between pants. His hands begin kneading at your ass again, right cheek still flaming with every touch. If he’d only remove the bindings, now digging tightly into your wrists and ankles, you’d be able to hump back onto the toy as you so desperately wish to.

He stills all at once, leaving you distraught and gasping. If you cry out, you’ll only be met with harsh reprimands. You want to sob— for his touch, for a break, for anything to soothe the ache in your core.

You hear it before you feel it.

A small buzzing noise as something is clicked on. Then, vibrations wracking your insides, your clit— a slew of pleasure as the dildo pulses. You sigh loudly, that stubborn itch finally being appeased by the pressure of the toy.

“Is my pretty little slut enjoying herself?” Shouta laughs behind you, voice still cold and filled with loathing. It’s as though he’s repulsed by your desire, your ceaseless need for him. You mewl loudly at the thought. “Mhm, and you’re going to continue enjoying yourself,” you feel the bed dip as he steps away, “until I finish my work.”

The fucking bastard. He’s leaving you tied up and helpless with a sex toy on the highest setting. He knows you’ll be a drooling mess for him, probably only half-conscious, by the time he’s back.

“N- no Shou, please.” Your protests do nothing to sway him. He simply snickers and walks out of the bedroom, leaving you to writhe and wail on your own. And God, does it feel good. Your stomach pulls taut as you rut against the bed like– like an animal. In a constant cycle of edging and ebbing, your orgasms build and build and build until you’re hit full force, only to begin all over again. It’s equal parts satisfying and unfulfilling, because fuck, do you just want your boyfriend’s cock inside you. It’s all you can think of— his warmth, his hands roaming your body, sweet, degrading nothings whispered into your ear while he pounds into you.

You lose track of time, aren’t even sure at this point whether your body is spasming or simply attempting to dispel the thick length inside you. The pleasure has turned to an entirely different ache, swollen clit now abused by the constant vibrations. Your voice is run hoarse, face carved into a permanent wince. And despite your attempts to stay quiet, chokes and gasps still rip through your throat. Even Shouta’s cloth is soaked through with the scorching sweat enveloping your body.

Though absolutely exhausted, you’re conscious enough to hear his quick steps as he makes his way to the bedroom. You can sense the smirk plastered across his face without even seeing it.

“Tired out?” Fingertips ghost over the cloth and across your painfully numb calves, nerves jumping at the feeling. “Ah’, you’ve soaked the bedspread.” A fierce blush runs across your skin, humiliated at the sight you must seem to him— a drooling, high-strung mess. He either doesn’t notice or chooses to ignore the way your body shakes at every prod.

All you can do is let out a meager ‘Mmph’, your brain too scrambled to form anything close to words, let alone coherent sentences. “If you use your words, I’ll consider taking the toy out.” Shouta’s ruthless; he knows every inch of your body, your reactions, like the back of his hand. Of course he’d ask you to use your words. He lives to watch you come undone, thrives off the pain etched onto your features.

“Please,” the request is drawn out— paused midway to let loose another gasp— and dripping in desperation. “I can’t– I just-” It’s all you can manage in your state.

“Seems you’ve been fucked stupid,” he chuckles darkly, though the vibrations wracking your cunt finally come to a halt and the dildo is swiftly removed. Your core clenches at the emptiness. “But I haven’t had the chance to stuff this tight little pussy full,” he slaps a harsh palm against your slit, making sure to wipe the slick that now coats his palm all across your cheek. If you weren’t aware of how soaked you were before, Shouta makes damn sure that you do now. The most you can work out in response is a feeble squeak.

One of Shouta’s hands strokes at your matted hair from behind, agile fingers tidying the disheveled strands. The other rubs harsh circles on your clit; you twitch incessantly, sparks running through every inch of your body. “There’s that pained little face I love,” he grabs at your cheeks roughly, forcing your lips into a ‘o’ while grinding into your calf. “Fuck.”

Your legs and arms slump onto the mattress as soon as the cloth is unbound. Every muscle in your body aches with overuse; numbness buzzes through the limbs that were strung together for God knows how long.

Your boyfriend— sadist that he fucking is— thrusts himself into you without warning. Sure, you’ve been stretched by the toy, but your poor slit is so overworked by previous orgasms that even the slightest hint of friction invokes senseless blubbering, your tongue lolling to the side in defeat. Wet, harsh slaps of skin against skin sweep the room, mixed with cries of ‘daddy,’ ‘please,’ and senseless nothings.

“Wanna see you cum.” It’s an order more than a request, grunted into the crook of your neck. His chest flattens against your back. It should feel suffocating, should feel disgusting, considering your body is gleaming with hours worth of perspiration, but you’re enamored with the warmth— engrossed by the way your skin sizzles at his touch. His fingers are secured at your hips, propping your ass in the air and pulling it against him with every piercing thrust.

“N- no, can’t,” cheek still buried into the mattress, you muster whatever strength you have left and grip at his slick bicep behind you. He simply swats your hand away, takes your wrist between his slender fingers, and presses it into the bed. His thumb caresses the marks left by the cloth, savoring the aftermath of the punishment he inflicted.

“You can and you will.” Despite the rasp in his voice, the command still holds authority over your forlorn frame and sends prickles down your spine. You feel yourself, yet again, creeping to the edge of an orgasm. “Cum for me.”

It’s those three, simple words that have you seeing white. Breathless, your brows scrunch together and lips open into a wide ‘o’, but no sound comes out. Your whole body tenses, all senses overwhelmed by this final tidal wave of pleasure, and then finally goes slack.

You’re officially done, body worked to the point of no return. A couple more snaps of his hips and Shouta follows, your name grunted loudly as he spills into you.

For a long time you simply lay together silently, chests heaving with his body still splayed over yours. You know that eventually he’ll roll out of bed and make sure you’re all cleaned up. You always revel in the way he pampers you, taking his time to ensure he doesn’t miss a single inch of skin. If you weren’t so exhausted, he’d probably run a bath as well.

Right now, the heat is finally proving too much for you, so you tap at his hip and he slides himself out of your raw core.

“Ouch,” you wince at the friction, the ability to speak returning to you at last. The whole bottom half of your body is tender. It’ll be a miracle if you’re able to sit comfortably for the next few days.

“Surprised you actually behaved,” he chuckles, flipping you over to hold you. His fingers rub lazy circles into your back and he presses a kiss to your forehead, “You were so good for me.”

“Not like you had me tied up or anything,” you poke a finger at his chest. “And to do paperwork at that.”

“Oh,” a slow, smug smile inches across his face, “I didn’t get any work done.” You might just slap him.

“Shouta,” your voice is even, but your eyes pierce his, narrowed in disbelief, “what do you mean you didn’t get any work done?” His laugh rumbles through his chest.

“Do you think I could really focus, hearing your screeching through the walls like that?”

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#AIZAWA FUCKERS COME THRU #this took me so long i hated it for the longest #but reading over it now i think it's okay??? lmk #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #bnha #bnha smut #shouta x reader #shouta aizawa x you #daddy aizawa #sunny writes #bnha fic #mha smut #mha

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tobiogf · 3 years

Text

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦

kageyama

word count: 2763

genre: do i gotta say? with a bit of angst... you and kageyama are stuck in a locker room together on a cold, winter night...

the proximity was dizzying and and tobio was half sure he was losing his mind right there, with you pressed against him, shivering in the cold, your hair tickling his nose and poisoning him with the lust-inducing scent of you. he saw you slip both hands between your legs, pressing your thighs together and humming to pass the time. tobio merely gulped down a lump in his throat and glanced away, overwhelmed suddenly by the heavy feeling of being weighed down by drenched clothes.

“u-um . . .” you began to say and tobio’s heart lurched into his throat, hammering away like there was no tomorrow. “are you seriously hard right now?”

pushing down the furious blush that was currently fighting its way to his pallid cheeks, tobio remained as stoic as ever. “you’re sitting directly on top of my dick and i’m only human.”

crinkling your nose, you averted your gaze and seemed to be shifting away from him. the slightest gap between your bodies was exploited by a gust of cold air that had tobio stiffen up almost instantly and clutch at your hips without intending to.

you gasped softly at the way his hands sought after you, or rather, sought after the warmth of your body. tobio didn’t say anything, knowing his words were always miscalculated -- caused trouble in the past and would continue causing trouble wherever he spoke.

you were also human and tobio was reminded of that when you’d shifted again slightly, this time to face him and the plume of white air leaving your mouth had warmed his lips, your eyes locked on his. how were you so beautiful, in the dark, cheeks dotted pink and crisp from the cold, shooting nostalgia and regret into that stone-cold chest of his.

and it hit him again that you two were no longer together and the way he was looking at you right now was the way only two people who were in love could look at each other. and you two were not in love.

“don’t take this as an opportunity to kiss me,” tobio warned you, tilting his head back to put a bit of distance between his face and yours.

“oh, sorry. I must’ve gotten the wrong idea when you were rubbing your dick in my ass,” you murmured, lowering your own head so that you wouldn’t have to meet his eyes.

“i’m just trying to stay warm!” tobio protested, feeling the unwanted heat rise to his cheeks once again. you kept squirming above him, making it quite difficult for tobio to sit still. he gulped again, releasing a breath before trying to change his position in an effort to alleviate your discomfort.

but you winced -- and then whimpered at his actions and kageyama clamped his teeth down on his bottom lip, delirious from the cold, and your body. “t-tobio, stop,” you hissed, suddenly sliding off of him and turning around to face him, your arms flying up to wrap around your shivering body.

tobio’s cheeks burned and it was an uncomfortable contrast to the frigidness of the rest of his body. “sorry,” he mumbled, barely looking at your face. “i don’t know how else to stay warm other than to huddle with each other... hinata and i did it all the time in tokyo when it was cold...”

the frown on your face lifted slightly as you continued to stare at him. “i’m not hinata...” you said quietly. “it’s different... with... us...”

“yeah, i know...” tobio responded with equal aggravation. he really didn’t want to be having a conversation like this with you right now. he was too tired. and too cold.

“you seem a lot colder than me,” you observed and although tobio wasn’t looking in your direction, he thought he might’ve heard the way your lips formed a small smile. “here, see...” you reached out to touch his hands and tobio’s palms immediately invited the warmth of yours before you removed them again. his eyes fluttered up to look at you as you moved toward him, your hands now on his neck, warming up the skin there while he gazed up at you in awe.

in this moment, tobio felt responsible to say something, interfere with your actions that were sure to cause collateral damage in the near future once you warmed up and regained your senses.

but how could he even speak when the heat of your palms was now raising goosebumps on the bare skin beneath his shirt... and then sliding into his pants.

tobio felt his chest rise with a heavy breath as your hand cupped him between his legs, head falling back against the wall and fingers curled against the freezing floor as he stared wide eyed at you.

“w-what’re you doing?” he asked with a clenched jaw as you continued palming him over his boxers.

“just trying to keep you warm,” you whispered and a moment later, your movements ceased, causing tobio to drop his chin and glance wonderingly into your glazed over eyes. “shit... i shouldn’t be doing this—”

a second’s realization told tobio that you were planning on abandoning your intentions and stopping there, disregarding his throbbing dick beneath your hand. before you could tug it out of his trousers, tobio’s fingers quickly curled around your wrists, keeping you in place and biting his lip in anticipation and, admittedly, sheer desperation — to stay warm, of course.

“don’t you dare stop,” he muttered to you in a blurry sense of mind. your eyes grew wide with his statement, hand pressing down on him and eliciting a soft moan from his lips.

moments later, you had lowered your head, tobio’s jeans unzipped and tugged down, his hand gripping your hair as your mouth worked quick over his hardness. tobio had never been too loud but the emptiness of the locker room caused his low grunts and moans to echo against the walls and ring against his ears, making his heart speed up as it heightened the bliss of the feeling of your tongue and lips wrapped around him. he couldn’t help holding your head down and pushing his way deeper into your mouth, bent over you at an awkward angle with his jaw slack and his free hand pressed to the floor to keep himself balanced.

“shit— i’m g-gonna cum,” tobio groaned, bunching your hair in his fist to try and pull your head up but his will was weak and you were determined to keep sucking him off. “y/n... fuck... fuck!” he cried out when the high fluttered right past his shut eyes and he was releasing into your mouth. “what the f-fuck...” tobio trembled, the cold enveloping him again once you moved your head, a string of white connecting him to your lips as you blinked up at him. tobio watched you with tightened brows as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and crawled back into his lap, chest pressing to his as you straddled his hard length.

“i’m still so cold,” you whispered, dipping your head to meet his lips but tobio almost instinctively tore his face away from yours, fully aware of how a simple kiss from your sweet lips would have him spiraling again into an abyss that longed for you.

“we should fix that,” said tobio, trying to ignore the injured expression on your face. he fumbled with your pants, blinking the cold out of his watery eyes as he stared down at your zipper, your heads bumping against each other.

“here,” you grunted, sitting up with your hands steady on his shoulders as tobio tugged your pants off along with your underwear. you sucked in a deep breath from the breeze taking advantage of your exposed skin, but then tobio’s large hands were cupping your thighs and they were even colder but the feeling strangely spread warmth all through out your chest.

tobio ran his slender fingers along the buttons of your shirt before tearing it open, instantly mesmerized by the sight of your body, suddenly astonished at how he’d even been able to stay away from it all this time. you shivered again and tobio latched his lips onto your neck, planting lingering kisses all over your skin as his hand cupped one of your breasts over your bra, causing you to sigh out in pleasure.

and when he pushed himself inside of your soaking entrance without warning, you fell against him, head buried in the hot skin at the crook of his neck. it was quiet and slow at first, you riding him with apprehensive movements but tobio couldn’t help the way his fingertips dug into the soft flesh of your hips to encourage you into a pace that wasn’t painfully slow.

“t-tobio,” you whimpered, warm lips brushing against his ear lobe and sending tobio’s heart springing to his throat and beating fast. he wanted to guide your hips to meet his tempo but that had always been the problem with him -- he’d always taken something out of you, expected you to cater for him and meet his needs and it’s what drove you away in the first place.

but right now, even trying to reassure you felt like a foreign concept. he wanted to be selfish again with you this close to him, his arms already locked around your body and eliminating any distance that remained between the two of you.

“fuck, baby,” he slurred, dropping his head and watching the way his cock buried itself inside of you like you were the only thing that mattered. every inhibition was completely obliterated by the warm, tight feeling of you -- in front of him, clenched around him, pressing your glistening chest on him. “you feel so fucking good,” tobio groaned as you clutched at his wet hair between your fingers. he held your hips down, speeding up his own thrusts as you clutched onto him, fingernails carving crescent-shapes into the skin at the back of his neck.

“holy shit...” you hissed out, lips parted as you pressed your forehead against his, back arching as tobio lowered his head into your chest, his mouth attached to the sensitive skin between your breasts and using his teeth to mark up your perfect body. “tobio... fuck... slow down...”

the request went unregistered in tobio’s mind. all he wanted was to move quicker, harder, but the cold air seemed to be itching to get underneath his skin while both your bodies worked to produce some hot air. he felt dizzy.

“that’s it, baby, come on,” tobio babbled on, holding you steady as you bounced against him, one of his hands coming up to wrap around your throat and pull your face towards his. you’d puckered your lips for a kiss but he moved his own mouth beyond that and choked out in your ear. “fuck, y-you’re mine... this fucking pussy belongs to me—”

your breaths became shallow, moans louder, and movements sloppy. you understood what was happening when those words fumbled past his lips. “tobio—” you began to say, fighting with the flutters of pleasure rising in your chest and stomach to manage some solid words but then tobio’s hands seemed to lift you off of him slightly and you gasped, your back suddenly pushed against the freezing surface of the locker room floor and tobio pushing right back into you from above.

“fucking hell, i missed you so much,” tobio groaned out, head buried in that stretch of skin between your neck and shoulder. your legs hiked up his waist, trying to take him as deep as physically possible. the action sent tobio’s stomach spinning in a flurry of pleasure. “that’s my girl...”

your own eyes fell shut, feeling the wave of pleasure overcome you at tobio’s bewildering pace. he seemed to fit so perfectly in that one place that had always felt void since breaking up with him.

“i’m gonna cum,” you managed to croak beneath him.

“me too,” tobio breathed, his one hand lifting off the floor beside you and squeezed your thigh. “y/n... babe...” he whispered, feeling beads of sweat drip down the strands of hair in front of his eyes. “i-i can’t... not inside...” tobio felt the knots unraveling and your legs were still locked around his waist.

slightly panicked, he slowed down his movements and used your moment of confusion to pull himself out (rather reluctantly) of you before wrapping a hand around his cock, a low groan stumbling past his lips as he threw his head back, releasing right onto you.

in those ecstasy-driven moments, tobio’s head almost blurred the line between just being your ex and being your ex who was still in love with you. although he executively came upon the decision to choose volleyball -- a part of his life he’d never doubted -- over you, he sometimes wondered what life would be like if he hadn’t.

would those moments have filled his heart with warmth forever? like the times he’d win a match, be it a practice one or official, and immediately search the bleachers for your face -- you’d be there, cheering for him with that beautiful smile of yours. or when winter laid snow across the streets and tobio would have to hop off the bike you two would be perched upon just to push it across a particularly snowy path. or those few seconds at lunch time when tobio would sit alone and then suddenly remember with such silent delight that you, his girlfriend, were going to be joining him.

tobio wasn’t stupid; humans were complicated enough to simultaneously fill your heart with love and just as quick, poison it with hate. and this regret, this guilt over losing you... it would be temporary. so he’d have to brave through the cold, sleepless nights, swiping through pictures of you he still kept on his phone, saved voice messages that’d have him reaching into his pants -- tobio could endure.

“shit-- you okay?” tobio asked, gulping hard as he stared down at you. you were wiping down your stomach with one of the spare towels you two had been using to keep warm earlier. “y/n.. i’m sorry, i lo--”

before he could finish his sentence, you’d tossed the towel to the side and sat up, pushing your mouth against his. tobio’s eyes widened in shock, completely unprepared for the realization that he had never forgotten how your lips tasted, just like he’d never forgotten how your fingertips felt when they’d touched him, how he’d never forgotten every scar, freckle, or mark on your body.

the way it all felt and terrified him that he probably would never forget it for the rest of his life.

cursing himself for kissing you back, tobio quickly pulled away and raised a brow at you, questioningly. “what was that for?”

you blushed and looked away, nervous fingers coming up to button your shirt up. “i thought you were gonna say something weird...”

tobio, fully clothed and throwing another towel over both your bodies, scoffed. “like?”

“like i love you,” you blurted out and tobio felt the cold stick to him all over again. “it just sounded like you were gonna say it.”

“i was gonna say i’m sorry that i lost control and got carried away with you,” tobio explained, a slight edge to his tone that made you almost wince. “let’s be honest... that wasn’t just us trying to stay warm.”

you nodded meekly. “yeah...”

the conversation was cut short, which tobio wasn’t sure if he was grateful for or irritated by. there was the sound of keys jangling and somebody’s annoying voice (it was hinata, tobio could tell) knocking urgently on the door.

“kageyama! y/n! please tell me you guys aren’t dead!” he yelled. tobio glanced at you.

“i-i texted like everyone on the team that i knew...” you answered his unspoken question. “hinata! we’re in here!” springing to your feet, both you and tobio scrambled to get fully dressed, tobio disappearing into a shadowy corner, struggling to tug his jeans up his freezing legs while the door opened.

“thank god,” said takeda sensei, hinata and yamaguchi right behind him with concerned expressions.

“are you guys okay?” hinata questioned, thankfully oblivious of the tension in the air. you decided not to look back at tobio.

“yes, we’re okay! thanks for coming,” you spoke quickly as tobio emerged from the corner and gave takeda sensei a grateful smile. he dipped his head right next to yours while everyone was walking out.

“this never happened.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #anime #anime smut #kageyama tobio #kageyama #kageyama smut #tobio headcanons

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tteokdoroki · 4 years

Text

then they laughed | s.todoroki.

⇝ pairing: shoto todoroki x fem!reader.

⇝ word count: 1.7K

⇝ rating: suitable for everyone.

⇝ genre: fluff.

⇝ summary: you’d never been ashamed of your quote on quote ‘ugly’ laugh but you’re not quite sure what to make of it when your crush mistakes it for mild choking or the one in which shoto todoroki mistakes your laugh for choking in the middle of the school cafetria.

⇝ warning(s): please read ! fluffy, angst if you squint, clueless todoroki and mentions of choking ( non-sexual ).

⇝ author’s note(s): why hello there darlings, here’s a little drabble requested by @patricia-ceballos, i thought this idea was super cute, i’m not sure how i feel about the ending but i had a lot of fun writing. oh and thank you so much for 600+ follows, i love you all. :( <3

⇝ masterlist | requests

you’d always thought that you had an ugly laugh.

it’s not that you were ashamed of it, never that, but you knew the twisted high pitch stream of giggles that passed your sweet unsuspecting lips could be kind of off putting to others. even so, that never put you off from laughing and joking about with your friends— if they truly cared for you, then having a slightly maniac-like laugh wouldn’t be a problem for them.

your classmates at U.A seemed to be those types of people. the good kind that you could trust wholeheartedly— the first time they’d heard you laugh, ochako had chuckled along with you, izuku had thought it was part of your quirk and bakugou had simply asked if you needed a ‘fucking throat lozenge?’ which only made you burst out into more streams of unintelligible giggles.

right now though, you try your best to stifle your giggles while you watch ochako and deku helplessly try to avoid admitting their feelings for one another over lunch. “what’s wrong deku? are you feeling sick?” the sweet brunette asks, almost impossibly close to the latter’s now beet red face. you can tell that he’s flustered by her proximity; the words he wants to say falling flat on his tongue.

ochako blinks for a second— as if to realise her mistake and quickly backs up, drowning in embarrassment and her silly crush on izuku midoriya. the girl stumbles back into iida, giving him only moments to process his now dropped food before he’s scolding them into next week— hands flying through the air while he barks out his complaints. trying not to laugh is becoming unbearably harder by the second, even asui is falling victim to the scene of comedy displayed right in front of your eyes and its not until you look up and meet the confused gaze of shoto todoroki that the dam finally breaks.

“what’s so funny?” the dual eyed boy says so blankly that even he is comical to you. you break out into fits of hysteria, slamming a hand over your mouth as your snorts launch their way across the table. shoto blinks, brows pinching in the centre of his forehead— is there a joke he’s missing? something he said?

the cluelessness of the half hot, half cold boy before you only sends you spiralling into more bursts of laughter— easing the embarrassment off of the two helpless flirters and effectively calming iida down while they join you in your chuckling session. “its...it’s just that—!” you can barely explain yourself, bold snickers punctuating each of your words as humoured tears begin to form in the corners of your dazzling eyes.

todoroki’s mood now shifts from bewildered to concerned, the short wheezes that pass from your pretty lips send shivers of worry down his spine. why is everyone laughing? can no one at the table see what’s happening? standing from his seat, the number one’s son brushes past tsuyu to get to your side— when he reaches you, your eyes sparkle with amusement despite the horrid sounds that leave you and a frown takes over his angekic face.

“don’t worry yn, i’ll help you.”

still trembling with a case of the giggles you have little time to process the dual haired boy’s words before he’s hoisting you from your seat, you think he’s trying to calm you down from the way his heated hand pats on your back ( five times to be exact ) but when his strong arms wrap around you— suddenly pumping your stomach, you realise.

todoroki is performing the heimlich manoeuvre on you.

shoto todoroki thinks your laughter is choking.

heat flushes to your cheeks as shoto moves to pump your stomach again, his broad chest pressed intimately against your back. the snickers from your friends at your lunch table stop— silence sweeping over them and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the stares you draw from other u.a students in the canteen. their judging eyes tear you down and crawl over you, leaving an uneasy feeling to settle in your bones but you’re too paralysed by embarrassment— too frozen to tell todoroki to stop.

you know he only means well, he didn’t know any better and he was only trying to help a friend in need but did he really mistake your laughter for choking? was it really that ugly?

a fresh set of tears prickle in your eyes, this time however, they’re not laced with the happiness you gain from being around your friends. before shoto has another chance, you pull away from him slightly with a small whimper pours from your flustered form. “stop... todoroki, please— stop...”

the boy’s hold on you loosens, he recognises the broken tone laced with your usually jubilant voice which gives you enough room to make a dash for it. blinking, todoroki turns to his group of friends, confused as escape the cafeteria and wolfish stares from your fellow students.

“s-she wasn’t choking, todoroki— she was laughing with us.” izuku explains carefully, fidgeting underneath his classmates strict gaze. the shorter feels almost bad for shoto, knowing he’s probably kicking himself for upsetting you even as you flee.

but his worries are soon eased as todoroki races after you.

launching yourself down the corridor, you use the sleeve of your grey blazer to run away the remaining tears that sting at your eyes. students from across all years watch you go by with looks of either annoyance or concern, but you move to quickly to care— throwing yourself into an empty hall and sinking to your knees. the heat of embarrassment blistering underneath the skin of your cheeks doesn’t ease up as you desperately paw at them, frustration intertwining with the air in your lungs… because, because it had been years since you last felt ashamed of your unconventional laughter, because you thought that enough time had gone by for you to no longer feel insecure about it.

you had good friends here at u.a, ones that didn’t judge you for your unusual habit but the scene yourself and todoroki had created back in the canteen only brought on bad memories reminding you of all of your insecurities from the past.

sighing heavily; you brace yourself to return to lunch with your friends, tripping over flimsy excuses in your mind for your sudden disappearence when a pair of well polished, brown school shoes come into view from over the tops of your knees.

“there you are, ln.” shoto’s voice is warm while he speaks to you, you’d always thought that. its deep like melted chocolate ready to be tempered and somewhat soothes your nervously thumping heart. you can’t bring yourself to look at him, knowing that there’s probably a pink tint to your eyes from where you’ve been crying but the boy with the two-toned hair persists, still wanting your attention. “the others…the others and i, were worried about you.”

you shake your head, fixing your gaze on a lose thread on the hem of your skirt that sits above your knees. “ah!, todoroki! you shouldn’t worry about me…just head back to the cafeteria before your cold soba gets… well, colder!” a frown pinches at the corner of your lips, settling heavily on your face. you don’t even find yourself convincing but hope todoroki believes your hopeless words anyways. “i’ll be with you guys in just a moment.”

but to your dismay, the youngest son of endeavour slides his back down the wall to sit next to you instead. “did i hurt you?” he mumbles awkwardly. todoroki itches to reach out and comfort you— it seems like something you would do for him but he’s never been good with situations like these.

“no! no shoto,” this makes you look up, catching the light in the cyan of his eyes. the pair of you blush, flicking your gazes away from one another. “i’m fine!”

“were you crying?”

“certainly not!”

“but your face—“

“shut up!”

“not until you tell me why you ran.” god, was he persistent. blunt and straight to the point, was shoto todoroki.

suddenly your feet become more interesting that the boy beside you, a silence sweeping over you both. “because,” you pause, trying to taste the words on the tip of your tongue before you say them. “i was embarrassed! the whole cafeteria heard my ugly laugh and thought i was—“

“choking,” todoroki finishes for you, finally finding the courage to rest an icy hand on your shoulder. “i’m sorry yn, i didn’t mean to make you feel embarrassed about your laugh,” sorrow litters the tail end of the half hot, half cold boy’s words— making them sit heavily in the air. “midoriya explained to me, i really didn’t mean to make you feel that way, i was just worried about you.”

you soften up, finally meeting his gaze once more and sniffle a little— chest warming at his concern for you. “shoto, it’s okay...” you’re quiet in your response, leaning into his cold touch but the dual eyed boy only shakes his head.

todoroki turns to face you fully, shrinking the space between you. he’s so close that you can see the flecks of grey in each of his eyes and feel the warmth from his breath fanning across your cheeks. “even if i can be...socially unaware sometimes, i still don’t want to hurt your feelings. they’re important to me,” he tilts his head, offering you a small smile enough to make a million hearts melt. “and for what it’s worth, i think your laugh is quite cute. not ugly.”

you blink, wondering if you heard him correctly and press a hand to your cheeks that now hear you’ll, as if you’ll be able to cool them down. “y-you think my laugh is cute?”

“yes, and i’d love to hear more of it over dinner sometime.”

his face is as serious as ever while he speaks, but the shine to his eyes tells you a different story as todoroki offers you a hand to stand up. “was that a pick up line, shoto?” you ask, barely being able to keep it together as little shots of laughter litter themselves through your sentences.

“i’m not sure...what’s a pick up line again?” you burst into joyful tears, obnoxious laughter filling the corridors as the boy on your arm guides you to your next class. you care little for the stares that your ugly laugh attracts, just happy that it puts a little smile on shoto todoroki’s face.

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luminari-mc · 3 years

Text

My Human, My Sunshine - Part 2

Pairing: GN!MC x Mammon

Genres: Angst, hurt/comfort.

Word count: 4642

Warnings: N/A

Summary: As a human and a demon get to enjoy the presence of one another again, Mammon knows deep down that behind this ephemeral bliss, hides a looming and powerful storm.

PART 1 - PART 2 -

A/N: it's almost Mammon's birthday! And as promised, here is part 2 of my little series! While part 1 was made to place several plot points here and there, this chapter really starts to set things in motion for future chapters, and especially part 3.

All I have to say here is... Enjoy the fluff while it lasts.

___________________________________________

For the first time in a while... the human world felt much more colorful. Much more silent. It was as if life itself had been born anew, the suffocating darkness engulfing the world having been cast away for the light to reclaim its rightful ownership. The evil dragon of separation had finally been put to rest, and so, the chirping of the birds quickly replaced the self-deprecating thoughts of the people.

The only question left on the people's minds, as their bodies embraced so close to one another throughout the night, rejoicing to finally be back in the other's company, was... for how long, would that blissful respite last?

The night had been deep and short, but much welcoming. The weariness that had taken over the couple's bodies over the past two months had thoroughly vanished, as if all of this had been nothing but a bad dream. How much they wished it had been the case, and that the kisses they had shared the previous night didn't have to be ones filled with the need to feel the other's presence so desperately, for their minds to realize that they were here, and he was here, together in the same room at long last.

A human hand gently caressed a white-haired head, the demon to which it belonged still soundly asleep. Despite it being a few hours after dawn, MC had only recently opened their eyes to the first rays of sunlight, finding themself still in the same position as they had fallen asleep in. Mammon's arms were still firmly wrapped around their frame, their proximity allowing him to breathe in the scent of their skin as his nose brushed against their collarbone each time his chest rose up in his sleep.

Remaining laid down on their side, the human could only keep still and watch the face of their demon in adoration, still unsure whether they really had him in their bed with him, or if the loneliness of the past few weeks had truly made them lose their mind beyond salvation.

But as their fingers gently passed in his hair, their caresses never ending, MC couldn't help but wonder... what had Mammon done since the last time they saw him? How had he spent his time in the Devildom? How were the others? And most importantly, how had he found his way to them? Not that much conversation had been achieved the previous night, to answer all of their questions... The two of them had quickly realized, as MC came to drag Mammon inside the apartment, their clothes damp from the rain that had been dripping from his body, that what they wanted, as their lips met again and again, weren't answers, but to feel each other. And before any of them could notice, they had both fallen into a deep slumber that lasted the entire night.

MC raised their head slightly to look out of the bay window on the other side of the room. Outside, they could partially perceive the colors of the other buildings of the city in the horizon, the sunlight reflecting on their windows brightly and making them squint their eyes in response. They would have preferred to be able to see the green of the trees lined up in the street below, but that was one of the many flaws of this place... the floor that Solomon had chosen for MC to reside in was just way, way too high up.

If it hadn't been for a pair of arms pulling them slightly forward, MC wouldn't have noticed the half-closed pair of blue eyes staring at them in silence. MC immediately lowered their side back against the mattress, their head meeting with the pillow once more. Under the covers, they moved a leg instinctively against Mammon's.

"Good morning." They whispered through a smile, a sound so affectionate to one demon's ears that his hand slid from under the blanket to place itself on the human's cheek.

"Is this a dream?"

Mammon's words surprised them, but only for a short second. The demon's expression was nothing but serious, a slightly furrowed brow adorning his forehead as if he was expecting to receive a positive, yet disappointing answer to his question. Instead, MC's smiled turned only sweeter. They closed their eyes before pulling Mammon closer to them.

"It's not a dream." They felt him place his face in the crook of their neck. "You're with me, and I'm with you. It's for real."

Almost as if he was holding back tears, Mammon inhaled deeply, before closing the empty space between his body and MC's until there was nothing left. Their hand was brought back to the back of his head, drawing slow circles in the hopes of soothing him.

"I still can't believe it." His words seemed to be on the verge of breaking up as they slipped through his gritted teeth. "It feels like you've been gone for a thousand years, even worse... Why the hell did I only find ya now..."

"Mammon..." MC opened their eyes again to urgently place a gentle kiss on top of the demon's head. "What's important is that you found me. It is much better than if a thousand years had really passed, don't you think?"

Mammon's head leaned away from the warmth of their neck, his glassy eyes able to meeting theirs again. His mouth stayed agape for a few seconds, before both of his hands cupped MC's face in place.

"I know I asked last night, but you sure you're okay, right? Nobody has hurt you or experimented on you or anythin'?"

"I'm okay, Mammon." They placed their hands on top of his, a small chuckle escaping through their lips. "I swear, all I did was practice magic with Solomon and live a boring human life."

"But you sure it was normal magic? What if it was some weird spells and he was secretly messing with your body without you knowing?"

His worry made them sigh softly, their thumbs brushing the back of his hands. It was understandable for him to be so concerned for their safety, after receiving no news in such a long time. And the demons had always been wary of Solomon ever since they had known the wizard, to the point where MC themself, had even grown to wonder why Solomon had been acting the way he did, since they had gone back to the human world.

"I promise you." They responded, yet unsure themself of the veracity of their words. "Nothing has been done to me."

Silence fell between the both of them again, a staring contest where Mammon was expecting them to let go of a much harder truth, which never came. He was the first to break eye contact, rather preferring to stare into the space between MC's head and the pillow.

"Solomon... He's hidin' something too. I just know it"

His sudden pouting mouth and words made MC blink. "Too? What do you mean...?"

After marking a wordless pause, Mammon's hands slid off their cheeks, his upper body rising up as he sat himself into the bed. The sheets fell onto his hips, leaving his arm exposed for MC to grab in case he was trying to avoid their question and get up. But instead, all he did was pass a hand through his hair as a deep sigh left his lungs.

"Mammon?" MC called out, their voice starting to show concern due to the demon's sudden secrecy. But as they read his expression a bit more clearly from their laid position in the bed, and as they watched the creases between his eyebrows form, and his jaw clenching, they realized that... Mammon probably knew more about all this than themself.

"A... A lot of shit went down ever since you left, MC." The demon kept his palm in his hair, leaving his forehead exposed. "It's gone bad, and I just... I-I just dunno what to do anymore."

It wouldn't take a genius to see how perturbed Mammon was about this subject- you just had to see the way his fingers had wrapped around his own hair, almost as if he was about to pull a handful, the questions in his mind twirling in a never-ending whirlpool of torment. One thing MC was grateful for, however, was how much more open he had become with them ever since they had known each other.

As MC propped themself on their elbow, they allowed their hand to wander up and down Mammon's arm to remind him of their presence.

"... Do you want some breakfast? I'd rather you explain everything while stuffing yourself with waffles. I make them delicious, I promise."

Although he glanced at them from the corner of his eyes, his pout only seemed to double. MC stopped their hand from rubbing his skin before placing it above his own, their thumb gently brushing the back of it. Like a timid child, his cheeks darkened, letting his voice, now low, respond to their question.

"I... could go with some of your waffles."

After putting some clothes on, apart from Mammon who could only rely on one of MC's loose jogging pants due to his clothes from the previous night still dripping wet on a nearby chair-, MC made their way to the kitchen to prepare something for their demon.

Throughout the whole process, Mammon never left their side. Once his arms had been locked around their frame from behind as they began preparing the waffles, he hadn't let go. His chin remained on their shoulder, his body moving alongside them whenever they had to go to a cabinet to grab a bowl, a whip, or even when they went to pick the different ingredients for the batter. MC had asked in the beginning "are you sure you don't want to sit at the table?", wanting him not to be standing more than his tired legs could bear. But their question was only met with a shaking of his head, before his forehead met with the warmth of their skin. "I'm good there", he had answered. And so MC let him hold on to them, enjoying the feeling of his arms around their waist, and the few kisses he would place here and there alongside their neck and cheek. This calm, this peace, this comfortable silence... they had forgotten what it felt like.

Once all the batter had been changed into hot and steamy waffles, and the rest of the breakfast had been made, the couple sat around the kitchen table.

"So... is it that bad?" MC placed their hands around their hot cup of cocoa, taking a sip of the drink as Mammon filled his mouth with a waffle he had covered in strawberry jam. MC had insisted that he was to eat his batch first, with him having barely eaten anything the previous day. Even if he was a demon, he needed to have a proper morning meal.

"It's almost as if you had never been in the house in the first place." Mammon answered after swallowing his bite. "Satan went back on being super pissy with Lucifer for the smallest things, Levi eats his meals in his room and never comes out. I see Asmo buyin' even more beauty products than usual and he's constantly askin' us if "this and that" suits him, to the point where it's ridiculous. Beel almost stopped eating entirely because he was too worried for ya. If it weren't for Belphie, he would have turned into a literal stick. Now Belphie sleeps more often too. And Lucifer, he..."

He stabbed one of the waffles with his fork, before tearing a piece of it with his teeth. MC's brow instantly furrowed with concern.

"He just has to know why we couldn't reach you. He's been lyin' through his teeth for weeks on end, but he thinks he's being so sly and that we're too dumb to see it." Another teared piece of the waffle disappeared into his mouth. "Like, sure, he's been way more on edge ever since you left the Devildom and even more after we've all started askin' why we couldn't talk to you, but that just shows that he knows somethin' and we don't."

With a slower movement, his fork planted into the remaining bits of the waffle. "But it's just... I don't understand, you get it? Why would he try to hide something about you from us? All of a sudden we can't send you texts or call you like we used to everytime you had to come back to the human world, and out of nowhere he starts actin' all weird about it. It's just..."

MC noticed Mammon's jaw clenching, his hand and fork immobile as it stayed firmly planted into the waffle. The demon swallowed harshly, letting the human know how the situation back at home must have been for him. Without their presence, the brothers had turned back into their previous selves, if not worse.

"What about you?" They asked, making the second-born jerk his head upward at them. "How are you feeling?"

"M-Me? It's... not important." He looked away shamefully, the pressure on the fork increasing and his nail starting to dig into his palm.

"Mammon." Their hand reached forward to wrap itself around the one that was holding the fork. "If my absence has been affecting everyone like this... I want to know how you dealt with it, too."

They patiently waited until Mammon finally dared cross his gaze with their own once again.

"I... dammit, don't laugh, okay?" He muttered. "But, I guess when we learned you didn't have your D.D.D. with ya back in the human world, I was the one with took it the worst... I grew tired of Lucifer tellin' me to be patient and wait for a replacement to get to ya, and I kinda ran to Lord Diavolo and ended up throwing a hissy fit in the middle of the throne room. Barbatos didn't like it, and neither did Lucifer. I still don't know why, but Lucifer didn't strung me from the ceiling on that day. Actually, he's mostly been yelling at us more than punishing. But I guess it doesn't really matter, since the others went all back on ganging up on me for any mistake I make."

Just as Mammon finally brought the rest of the waffle into his mouth in the hopes of not breaking up into a groaning mess, MC could swear they felt their heart sink within them. It sounded exactly like what Mammon had said. The brothers had all gone back to their old ways, with Mammon ending up as the punching bag once again. And all because they weren't around anymore?

"I'm... I'm sorry." Their throat tightened, a sense of guilt starting to wash over them. "If I knew you guys were having it this bad, I'd- I should have been way more insistent with Solomon, I should have kept asking to see you more than I did when-"

"Wha- No no, hey, it's not your fault!" Mammon exclaimed, panic settling in as MC started taking the blame on themself. "I mean, no one coulda thought that you'd be gone for this long... And that we'd be all negative for not being able to call you and stuff..."

Mammon passed a hand over his neck, the other covering MC's fist with its warmth. His eyes drifted to the side.

"We just... ya know. Grew used to havin' ya around. Guess it messed up our heads pretty good, and in the end, hatin' on each other seemed like the only solution to keep us busy.... I think."

MC's stomach churned uncomfortably as they sat there silently, slowly processing Mammon's words. What they wouldn't give to have sensed sooner that the brothers were also out of the loop in this situation, and ask Solomon for answers in the first few weeks after being back in the human world with him. How could they have been so passive about this? How could they have been so blind?

"MC."

Mammon's voice pulled them out of their thoughts, as they raised their eyes back onto him. "Huh?"

"What did Solomon say? About you not being able to see us?"

"Hum..." Their brain replayed the fuzzy memories of what happened two months earlier.

"Well, you remember how we all said our goodbyes to each other before I left the Devildom? It was in the student's council meeting room, like usual. But Diavolo had said that I would need to fill some papers before entering the portal, so I guess since we all were used to saying goodbye like this by now, we didn't really see the harm in having you brothers all leave the room before I entered the portal."

They instinctively bit the corner of their bottom lip. "Which left me, Barbatos and Diavolo in the room. Diavolo said something about needing my D.D.D. to replace it with an upgraded version, which I thought was weird at the time since Karasu had always warned me when it needed repairs or to update an app. But I trusted Diavolo, so I gave it to him, and he said I should receive the new one shortly through Solomon. After that, I got into the portal, but never received the phone, and Solomon started saying all these excuses..."

"What excuses?" Mammon asked, pressing on the matter out of curiosity, but mostly because of the bubbling rage that was beginning to form in the pit of his stomach.

"At first he explained that the new D.D.D. took some time to be shipped to Lord Diavolo, but-- it's Lord Diavolo, the literal demon prince. He knows how much I like to communicate with all of you while I'm up there, so I couldn't understand why he simply couldn't ask for the shipping to go a bit faster?" MC started moving their free hand around as they continued to explain their version of the story. "Then Solomon suddenly switched from the phone taking time to be shipped to... saying that the Devildom was dealing with some dangerous threat that came out of nowhere, and that I needed to stay away until the matter was dealt with. But in the end it just... made me want to know if you guys were okay even more..."

Neither Mammon nor MC had realized, nor heard, that a crack had begun to form under Mammon's firm grip on the edge of the table. The more he learned how many lies had been thrown in their face by the wizard, the more pressure Mammon was putting on his closed teeth. He couldn't believe Solomon had told them that they were in danger, when absolutely nothing eventful had happened during their absence. What was wrong with this guy, Lord Diavolo and Lucifer? The demon searched in his mind again and again, why his older brother would make up such an alliance with Solomon, especially to keep MC at bay- wasn't he supposed to care for them, too?

"I've heard enough." He hissed, the wood cracking even more under his palm. "Once I know what the fuck is going on with those two, I'm bringing you back home."

"Wait-" MC exclaimed, panic in their voice. "I-It has to be for a reason, right? That your story and mine aren't the same? I just- I don't understand why Diavolo and Lucifer would lie to me so that I stay in the human world, especially when they were acting like usual before I left."

"Reason or not, I don't fucking care. Shouldn't they have at least let us know if something was up?" Mammon's hands retrieved from both the table and MC's, the demon grasping the fabric of his pants harshly as he shook his head in disbelief. "Think about it, MC. If they all made up a bunch of lies so that we wouldn't be able to contact you, then it means that you're involved in this. Whatever problem it is they're hiding, they should tell you what it is, and not straight up throw you away in the human world as if neither you or ME would care about it."

The demon let out a frustrated groan as his eyes closed firmly, Mammon not understanding anything of the situation. If he and MC wanted answers, it would require to go back to either Solomon or Lucifer, but either of those options weren't at the top of his priorities right now. All he wanted at the moment, was to make sure that MC would remain safe, if they indeed were at the center of all this. He didn't want to lose them again. Two months of radio silence had already been hard enough. No, now, he would remain with them at all times. No matter if the obstacles ended up being a wizard, the demon prince, or his literal older brother.

MC's arms wrapping around his shoulders pulled him out of his dark thoughts. He opened his eyes, feeling them sitting on his lap as they hid their face into his neck. Their embrace was strong, but at the same time, gentle and comforting. He instantly felt himself melt in his seat. Slowly, his shoulders dropped, and his arms circled the human he loved the most.

"I swear it." He muttered, looking into the empty space behind them. "I'll bring you back to the house. Everyone's missing you, and... I miss you, too."

MC nodded against his neck. "I'd love that. I miss the others. I miss my room there. And you always barging in without notice."

"O-Oh, yeah, about that-" Mammon pulled them slightly away by the shoulders so he could face them. "I kinda forgot to tell ya, but... when you weren't here, I sorta felt really alone, having to sleep in my room without you around, so... uh, what I mean is that- I kinda brought most of my stuff in your-"

The demon's sentence was cut short by the melody of a ringtone at the other end of the table. Mammon looked instantly at MC's phone, arching an eyebrow both for being interrupted, but also wondering who could be calling them on their human phone at this hour.

"Ah- it's probably Solomon. He was supposed to come visit yesterday, but postponed it to today instead." MC said, not without a hint of disappointment in their voice as they got up from Mammon's lap to go grab their phone.

Mammon growled, already preparing himself mentally for possibly having the occasion to yell at the wizard for all the mess he caused, but his plan was immediately stopped by MC, who had put a finger on their lips. While Mammon started pouting, MC pressed the sleep button on the side of the phone, but opened their eyes wide as the name of the caller was written in what seemed like... the Devildom's language.

"It's- not Solomon?"

Their thumb swapped over the Accept button, and just as they placed the phone over their ear and were about to ask who it was, a voice, way too familiar to them, answered first.

"M-MC.. ?" The broken sobs mixed with the voice of none other than Leviathan, almost made MC forget how to breathe. "Aahh, I'm so glad... I-I wasn't sure if- sniffle..."

"Levi?" MC clasped their other hand over the phone, alerted by the state of the demon on the other side of the line. Behind them, Mammon practically jumped out of his seat.

"Levi?! Put him on speaker!"

MC obeyed him, quickly turning the speaker on and putting the phone in-between the two of them. The third-born's voice could now be heard in the entire room, as his desperate cries continued.

"Yo, Levi, why are you crying?! And how did you figure out how to call MC's phone?!" Mammon shouted, before approaching the phone to listen more closely. "Hey, is that Asmo I'm hearin'? Is he with you? What's happening??"

"Mammon... we were so worried- that you wouldn't find them..." Levi continued, as several people could be heard in the background, seemingly arguing with each other. "I tried really hard you know... I'm so, so sorry MC... I really tried... Please, please forgive me, I tried..."

"T-Tried? Wha- What did you try, Levi?" MC asked nervously, a knot starting to form in their throat. But the only answer they received from Leviathan, was a louder sob, soon followed by muffled cries as if the demon had stuffed his face into a pillow.

"Here- Levi, I'll talk to them." Another voice replaced Levi's, this one more composed in its tone. It increased in volume as the owner brought the phone closer to their face. "MC, Mammon? Are you still there?"

"Satan..." MC whispered, a hand placed over their chest. It had been so long since they had heard either of the other demons' voices.

"Hey, Satan, what's wrong with Levi?! I keep hearin' the others talking behind you too! I leave you guys for one day and already one of you is bawling his eyes out?!" Mammon asked urgently, obvious worry in his voice for his brother. As if the whole trip to the human world hadn't already been anxiety inducing, now something had happened within the House of Lamentation, and he wasn't there to check up on them.

On the other side of the phone, Satan clicked his tongue.

"After helping you find MC's location, Levi spent hours learning how to call a human phone with a demon one... literal hours. I'm glad it worked." He paused. "Everything would have turned out alright, if only it hadn't been for him."

While MC blinked in confusion, Mammon's breath was caught in his throat. His face turned pale, and his brow furrowed even more as the realization of what the fourth-born was trying to tell him washed over him.

"Wait... Don't tell me-"

"He's gone way too far this time." Satan hissed. Behind him, the voices of the other brothers turned quieter, the blonde demon moving away from them. "You have to leave wherever you are. While you didn't know where MC was, Mammon, I'm not doubting that he does. I don't know why he's acting the way he is but... I'm worried about MC. Mammon, you have to get them away from him."

"Wait, Satan, are you talking about-"

Two dry knocks came from the entrance door, and MC immediately shut themself up, quickly pressing the speaker off. Flipping their head alongside Mammon's towards the sound, the two's breaths turned slow and their bodies immobile, like deers caught in headlights. Neither of them dared make a sound, nor move a muscle, their eyes glued to the wood of the door as they waited for additional knocks, which never came.

Instead, after a silence that seemed to last forever, with only the now small voice of Satan hurriedly asking them from the phone if they were alright, a hue began emanating on the door. A red circle, shining a light that resembled a laser's glow, drew in the center. Several patterns followed and appeared within it, and before MC could take a step towards it, as they finally understood who was on the other side, Mammon's body immediately blocked them from advancing.

"Mammon-"

The demon raised an arm out, preventing MC from moving further away from the table. The human didn't have to see his face to know that he was preparing himself for anything- his tensed body in front of them spoke for himself.

His inner thoughts from a few minutes ago resurfaced in a flash upon sensing MC's hand on his back. No more separation. He had to protect them- stay with them. No matter the obstacle.

Even if this obstacle, turned out to be his own older brother.

"He's here."

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erensproudsimp · 3 years

Text

Chef D'œuvre

Jean kirstein x Reader

⚠ Sexual Content Ahead ⚠

Content Warnings:Fluff, Sex on a canvas, established relationship, teasing Jean hehe, dirty talk, ultimate smut + this isn't proofread

Summary: Restraining Jean from touching you the whole day, a candle light dinner in the evening leading to sex on a canvas? The idea of Jean as an artist is just so hot.

Word count:4.1k

Fanart is by artworkbyzuli on insta

Cross-posted on ao3

Colorful tainted tiles, the smell of fresh paint hovering in the air, early hours of sunshine filtering from the beige curtains to fall on his face highlighting his features as his eyes concentrated on the canvas. Blanc frames waiting to be hued with a meaning or not. Teeth clenching, his jawline apparent, he looked like a Greek God, his brush being his weapon, almost out of this world. Shirt glued on his body like a second skin layer bringing out his honed muscled body, Jean truly was a work of art spreading his magnificence on cloth and paper. Standing by the door frame in his shirt two times bigger than your figure, you admired your boyfriend, his back facing you, drowned in his own world of aesthetic in his studio.

Tiptoeing to him, you wrapped your arms around his torso, your cheek pressed on his back catching him off-guard. You took a quick whiff of him. Sandalwood with a faint citrus.

"Woah there, good morning baby, did you have a good night sleep?" Jean's hoarse voice almost made your legs lose their balance. His free hand caressing your arms, you hummed as a simple yes still intoxicated by his scent.

"I'm going to go prepare breakfast, I'll call for you when I'm done." Jean gave you a quick forehead kiss before you left the room.

Cracking some eggs in the pan, you connected your phone to the speaker in the house to play some music while you proceeded to put fruits in the blender to make smoothies. Swaying your body to the music at the same time lip-syncing to the words, you spread butter on slices of bread unaware of Jean's presence behind you. The man crossed his arms, leaning on the wall he admired your actions which were nothing but alluring to him.

What made it even more hot to him was the fact that you were wearing his shirt. At first in the studio, he didn't realise but now that he noticed, he couldn't help but smirk to himself. He took in the way his shirt was practically floating on you, the flashbacks of last night suddenly raced through his mind. The way you were moaning his name, grabbing the sheets tightly as you let him take control of you made him take a deep breath before he approached you.

Now it was his turn to return you the hug from earlier. Surprised by him, he didn't leave you a second to react to his abrupt act of affection, he moved your hair to the side to plant a kiss on your neck making you shiver. His arms tightened around you just as his kisses went deeper all through your neck.

"y/n," his hot breath unsteady.

"Je-Jean, the eggs are gonna burn," you breathed.

"The only thing burning right now is my urge to fuck you right on this counter," Jean whispered in your ear almost making you lose your thinking pattern.

"Jean, I'm serious," you tried to wingle from his grasp to save your omelettes and placed them on two separate plates.

Jean looked at you disappointedly as though a puppy who had just lost its toy.

"Aww don't look at me like that, gimme a kiss, come on," you opened your arms, encouraging him to come to you.

Gladly he did and locked his lips in an instant.

"Jump," Jean demanded in between the makeout and you, of course, obeyed.

Your legs around his hips, sloppy lips fighting for dominance, Jean pressed your ass on the kitchen island. His arms snaking up and down your thighs, giving them a light squeeze here and there.

"Your legs are pretty, but they would be prettier on my shoulders hmm," his voice laced with a passion so hot like molten lava.

Your insides now ignited with flame, you pushed your hips into his by closing in your legs wrapped around him. Hard. Mischievousness coursed through your mind as you wanted to tease him for making you flushed.

"Want my legs over you? well catch them if you can," with that said, you jumped off the kitchen island freeing yourself from his clutches to run away from him.

"Hey! Get back here! I'm not done with you! " Jean called after you, laughing as he chased you down the corridors. A soft genuine laugh emitting from him when you threw pillows from the sofas at him to halt his movements only for him to catch the items and throw it back at you like a snowball fight.

A grin plastered on your face when you finally got tired of the running and collapsed on the floor with Jean kneeling beside you equally euphoric. The happiness was mainly because he felt so much at peace seeing your smile.

"Got ya," he breathed from exhaustion, encircling his arms around your waist and pulling you close so that he could rest his chin on your shoulder.

"You're so warm," Jean nuzzled his nose into your neck.

"Speaking of warmth, our food's getting cold in the kitchen, hurry up we need to eat," you mentioned.

"The only thing I want to eat right now is you-" you cut him off with your index finger pressed on his soft lips.

"Jean, I swear to god, let's go," you pushed him from back because he was trying to grab your ass, however, you receded.

"Your hands were so small on my back, but I'd prefer them jerking my dic-" again you shut him up by shoving toast bread in his mouth to save you from further embarrassment.

"Y/n baby, I need you so bad right now," he said swallowing that bread hard as your eyes widen.

From the look in his eyes, you could tell that this man was sexually frustrated, certainly because of your actions earlier but you didn't expect him to be so thirsty.

For a brief moment, a thought came up to you, basically telling you to refuse his current wishes to make him further agitated just so that you ravish the feeling of him taking the pent-up anger out harder on you later. Perfect plan, you internally agreed to yourself.

"Oh you need me badly? How about you show me that at night, okay?"a light smirk stretching the corner of your mouth.

" Y/n, I need you now, like right now, I can't wait till night or anything," Jean whined. How cute.

"Aww, you're that desperate baby? You can't hold yourself back? I thought you were tougher than this,"you cooed.

" Y/n, I can see damn well what you're trying to do, so stop messing with me please, "Jean reached out to grab your face only for you to pull back. Not going to lie that did hurt you when you saw the disappointed look on his face, yet, oddly that made you feel and realise the control you had over him and goddamn this felt good.

"Okay then, how about a little bit of challenge for you? If you manage to keep your hands off me the entire day and that includes any sort of contact, I'll make a surprise for you tonight as a reward. And if you lose then no sex for you until the next day baby. Deal?"

"Now that's going to be hard as hell but your surprises never fail to entertain me so deal."

"That was quick of you," you commented shaking his hand as a way of signing the contract.

"I just know that you're going to do something remarkable that will blow my mind so I'm simply looking forward to it."

His hopes were ridiculously high for the reward and luckily you already had something in mind for tonight.

After breakfast, Jean wasted no time to rush into his studio to keep you out of his sight. That was going to be a little too easy for him to win in this way. Not that you didn't want him to win, you couldn't help but want to push him to his limits. While you were scavenging your mind for the perfect way to catch him off guard, you heard a knock at the door. Outside was the postman with a package which seemed to be a delivery of one of the various things you kept buying online.

Taking the parcel inside, you opened it to find something that made you smiled evilly. It was a black transparent two pieces lingerie with lace straps. Not a second was wasted for you to change into that. To hide your plans, you wore a bathrobe and tiptoed to the studio.

Inside, Jean clearly concentrated on drawing when you creaked open the door, his attention now on you.

"Y/n why are you wearing a bathrobe in the middle of the da- oh-"

Right at that moment, you removed the robe letting it fall to your feet to unveil the marvel that was hidden inside of it.

Jean's breath hitched in his throat.

"You have no idea how badly I want to scream right now,"his pencil falling out of his hand, he covered his face with his hand and took a step back from you. He rubbed his temples as he inhaled deeply.

"Fuck y/n, why are you doing this to me?"he looked at you from up to down as though he was eating you up with his eyes, capturing every inch of what he's seeing and burning it into his memory.

"Do you like what you see?" your hands on your hips as you leaned on the wall.

"You have no idea."

You chucked and approached him slowly.

"If only I could touch you right now, you have no idea of what I'd do to you," Jean put his hands into the pockets of his pants to try to contain himself from not jumping on you like a hungry wolf who hasn't eaten in weeks.

Clacking your black heels on the cold tiles, your hands meticulously moving on your hips, you diminished the distance between you two. One foot difference. Jean licked his teeth from inside closed mouth and opened it slightly to let out hot breath, sustaining the proximity but you could see the intensity in his eyes.

"I can't stop staring, please y/n, "

"Where's the fun in that? I wanted to see you all hopeless for me and you're doing a pretty good job resisting," your finger pointing at his growing bulge.

Blowing air from his mouth, his hands on his hips, he walked to and fro.

"Is this the surprise you were telling me about in the morning?"

"Of course not, the surprise is bigger than this. I just wanted to give you a little sneak peak thought since I love you so much and don't want to kill you with a heart attack," you giggled twirling a strand of your hair. His eyes went big.

"If that's the case, you better prepare yourself for tonight because you seriously don't know what I'm going to do to you," Jean licked his lips.

"Can't wait," you blew him a kiss while you strolled out of the room, his eyes still fixated on the lingerie.

Not only did what happened turned you on, but it also motivated you to start the preparations for Jean to wreck you till you couldn't walk. Changing into pajamas for comfort, you took out scented candles of your preference and placed them on the nightstands and dressing table in the bedroom.

Jean's POV

'What the hell was y/n even thinking pulling that move on me? '

Sighing deeply I looked at my boner.

"Now what am I going to do of you? Jerk off to the memory of y/n in that black lingerie?"

On second thought, that doesn't sound bad, except for the fact that he was in an art studio.

Gosh, was he not turned when he first saw you in that. The way the cloth surrounded your soft breasts, decorating them to be perhaps the most flawless thing he'd ever seen or the way your stance screamed if confidence. He couldn't decide which of them were hotter.

The little ribbons on the strap did nothing but make you more erotic. How did you even manage to look that good, is a mystery that he will never discover.

"I really got the best of the best for me huh," Jean smiled to himself.

His art failed in front of you. Null and void. In his eyes you were the definition of what a beauty goddess was, hence proving that beauty indeed lied in the eyes of the beholder. Despite your imperfections which nonetheless still made you impeccable, Jean always attempted in copying your sublimity yet in vain.

Without a doubt, you were the best Muse he's ever had in his life. One day hoping that he would finally do you justice and be able to recreate his image of you in his mind on cloth, Jean kept trying albeit failing each time. However, he would absolutely never give up.

Collecting himself from the recent impact, he picked up his pencil from the ground and as much as he wanted to concentrate on his drawing of you, he couldn't prevent himself from picturing you from back then. You were beyond gorgeous. Maybe, that exactly was the inspiration he needed.

"I need to take a bath," Jean said to himself. Luckily there were two bathrooms in the house, as he wouldn't want to interrupt you while you were busy making whatever surprise.

To be honest, Jean was as impatient as you and full on ready to be taken by surprise by you.

Your POV

"Okay I've cleaned the room spotless, scented it, changed the sheets of the bed, took out towels and now time to bring the big thing,"you checked off everything on your mentally made-up list before you could continue.

Rushing to the wardrobe, you took out the art supplies required for the sex painting. Canva isn't the comfiest option for sex but you knew that it will all be worth the work at the end.

You honestly couldn't wait to see Jean's reaction to this.

Since the mattress can get a little colorful, you didn't want to run the risk of ruining the bedding either, you rather placed the sheet of canva on the carpeted floor that was still easy to the body. Laying down a cloth, that you taped so that it wouldn't dislocated when things get moving, on top of which you placed the canva and towels around it as well as a trail of towels towards the bathroom so that clean up of the post-art would be rendered easier.

"Okay now that everything is settled, let's go take a bath and prep myself up," you muttered to yourself, locking the door from the inside so that Jean wouldn't accidentally enter it.

-Time skip-

A private dinner in your dwelling makes for an magical evening. Silk sheet on the table, napkins neatly pleated on the white plates surrounded by tableware. Incorporating flower petals, slow romantic harmonious music, and low lighting to create the right atmosphere you as well added string lights for an added touch of enchantment. Aphrodisiac food was the obvious choice, you thought, placing down the lobster in the middle. Wine in glasses twinkling to the fairy lights for a further sizzle.

Not long until Jean made his appearance in a suit, top buttons of his shirt loose while you were in a black dress lighting the scented candles.

"Hey babe," his throaty voice called.

Turning around, you saw him, his hands in his pockets walking towards you. His large body towering yours.

"You look hot," he complimented looking down on you.

"So do you," you giggled bopping his nose.

Pulling a chair, Jean signaled you to sit as he pushed the chair then going to his seat facing you.

The empty wine glasses were delicately filled with the red alcohol, each of you raising your goblet for a cheers.

" Cheers to my pretty boyfriend."

"Cheers to my future wife," Jean smirked as you were busy turning fifty shades of red.

In comfortable silence, except for the clinking of utensils, both of you ate.

"Main course is done for, now time for dessert, "he said standing from his chair to yours. Lift you off the ground swiftly, he walked you to the bedroom in bridal style.

"huh? HUH? Jean what are you doing?"

"Taking my dessert to eat, what else?" he replied kissing you. His kiss was a fever. Hot. Sluggish.

Opening the door to disclose the surprise, his eyes went wide until it hit him. The canva and towels on the ground, paint orderly laid on the bed.

"I was thinking the house needed some more decorations, so why not spice things up by creating this masterpiece and hanging it in the living room for everyone to see? " innocently you smiled at him.

"Hahaha y/n! You're amazing!" rosy cheeks, eyes twinkling with admiration and affection he twirled your body in air, "wait then that means that the whole day you preventing me from touching you was pointless," his expression now slightly frowned.

"I mean, yeah, I mean, I just wanted to see you desperate for me," you fumbled with your words.

"Bad girl. After this I will have to punish you for making me suffer for nothing," Jean put you down.

You didn't know whether to feel anticipation or fear knowing that this man was going to wreck you.

"Why are you acting coy all of a sudden? Weren't you the one to act like a whore? " with the cockiest smirk ever Jean said.

His hands previously placed gently on your hips began to tighten. The press only fueled your rapid beating of your heart. Tilting your head towards his face by lifting it with one finger on your chin, he locked eye contact with you.

Lust filled his irises. Skilfully, he unzipped your dress and pulled it off your skin. Skin that desired to be touched so badly. Skin that burned under his fingertips that grazed the surface. Under the clothes exposed the black lingerie that got Jean worked up since morning.

Even though he already saw you in it, it nevertheless felt like the first time. The same adoration that held his gape seemed to be worshiping your body.

"May I take your bra off? " Jean asked. You nodded, Jean elatedly removed it.

"Look at these perfect tits. Belonging and made only for me," cupping them in his hands, he growled against your neck.

Your mind going blanc and empty, you were left speechless. Only ravishing him. His presence. His hot breath fanning on you. As much as you wanted to take this slowly, you couldn't stop yourself from craving to feel him buried deep inside of you.

Your hand slightly sliding over his growing bulge, earning a hiss and restrained moan from him.

"No. You're not going to be the one to tease me anymore. It's my turn," biting your collarbone, he declared making you leap in his arms.

Feeling self-conscious that you were the only one in undergarment, you unbuttoned his shirt and ripped it off him while he was sloppily making out with you.

Grabbing your thighs, he insinuate for you to jump. Chest to chest, he then threw you on the bed making it sink under your weight. He was finally freed from his restraints of not laying a hand on you.

His body hovering yours, he kissed you passionately. He's never kissed you like this before. Maybe you should restrain him more often.

Jean swallowed your gasp when unknowingly his hand went down your stomach to press on your clothed clit.

"Huh? You like that?" laughs "yeah you like that don't you," he breathed his finger circling around the bud. Your response was a moan and your breath quickening. Your reaction turned Jean on more than he already was.

Going down on you, he sucked your soaked underwear, the room filled with slurping sounds. He gripped your hips by wrapping his big arms around it to prevent you from squirming away. You were practically a moaning mess. Aggressively, he ripped it off you, continuing to lick through your folds.

"Jea-Jean I think I'm going to c-cum," you manage to utter.

"Heh, not yet princess, we got so much more do," he wiped his mouth that was coated with your juices and licked the liquid off his fingers. You looked at him with pleading eyes as you were yearning for a release.

Legs trembling, you raised your body to be able to sit while Jean grabbed the body-safe paint and put a fair amount on the cloth.

"Come here my lady," he said as he picked you to lay your body gently on the canva, paint on your back.

Jean took off his pants and underwear, his hard dick slapping on his stomach whilst you were making yourself comfortable.

A brush in his one hand and a palette in another, he sauirted some paint on the flat item.

Impatience began to overcome you as you begged him to come to you.

"Wait a moment more babe, I'm just making the perfect colour," Jean finished his sentence by approaching you.

Jean maintained eye-contact with you, the brush gliding over your soft skin leaving colors behind its track. Chills ran down your skin after each stroke. Drowning in bliss, Jean slowly ran the tool down your belly to an inch higher up your pussy. You were waiting for him to pass the paint through your core but instead he stopped his actions making you internally more annoyed.

"I'm not going to let you get off so easily after what you did to me," Jean murmured.

Cold. Squeezing the paint tubes, Jean splat paint on your body, mainly on your stomach. He leaned forward and pressed his body against yours to spread the paint.

Lining his dick right outside your entrance, he thrusted in without warning. Your back arching, you let out a moan. His hands rushing behind your back, he hugged your body as he gave you time to adjust to him.

"Mmmm, fits perfectly. Look at how good you take me, yeah you see that? "Jean moaned in your ear.

" It's okay, you can move,"you bit back a groan because Jean didn't leave you a second before pumping in and out of you.

" I can't believe you're mine, all mine, no one but me knows how good you feel, just me,"Jean panted in your ears," listen to my moans, you he-ear how goo-od you're making me feel? "

"AH-yes Jean, yes," you purred.

His forehead rested on yours, mouth connected, swallowing each other's breath and sounds.

" Go faster Jeaann." This made him slow down instead of doing as you wanted.

"Oh? you want me to go faster? Go-o ahead, beg for it. Tell me how bad you need me," Jean's stroked your insides with long and slow thrusts.

"Pl-please Jean, need you so badly, you make me feel so good so take all your anger out on me bu-ut please make me cum alongside with you!"

"Lift your ass, my queen,"Jean satisfied with your answer commanded, which you did as he ordered as he pounded deeper into you mixing the paint on the canva.

"Look at you, such a good girl."

It wasn't long until Jean filled your insides with his hot seed making you scream his name loudly. Right before you could come that Jean could tell by the shaking of your breath, he lifted your body off the masterpiece so that your ejaculation wouldn't ruin it.

In his arms, you came so hard, your liquids dripping down Jean's skin.

"Y/n, I don't think you realised that but what you just did was so hot," Jean admired you.

"Also, thank you for fulfilling my fantasies as an artist," he thanked you kissing your cheeks fondly.

Walking on the towel leading to the bathroom, he put you inside the bathtub, opening the tap to let the container fill with hot water. While it was doing so, Jean got in with you between his legs and head on his chest heaving up and down.

Jean took some shampoo in his hand, and massaged your scalps with you basking. Heavenly was a word too light to describe the feeling. You were basically in paradise.

"In round two I'm not planning on going gentle now so just bite the pillow and take it," Jean sputtered against your hair.

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lavenderfluorite14 · 3 years

Text

Such Sweet Delirium

Reiji Sakamaki x Fem!Reader

Summary: Laito Intrudes on an experiment gone wrong. Reiji loses his cool.

Explicit, 18+ |TW: Dubious Consent/Non-Con, Drugged Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Slut Shaming, Blood Sucking, Ownership Kink, Female Reader, Breast Worship, Hickeys, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Begging, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Possessive Reiji, Light Edging, Canon Typical Reiji Cruelty, I couldn’t just write porn I had to write a character study too lol, Slight Laito x Reader, Tagging non-con for the consent issues surrounding drugged sex, Reader is conscious and responsive but very high

Word Count: 2331

A/N: Please be mindful of the tags! This is the most explicit thing that I have ever written lmaoooo 🥂

Read it on AO3!

Reiji’s lab spun in a nauseating carousel of color. The last thing you remembered was drinking a beautiful, shimmering liquid that Reiji said he had brewed himself. It fizzed all the way down your throat, an insistent warmth quickly spreading throughout your body. Now sprawled across his sofa, you surrendered to dizzying oblivion. Somewhere above you, Reiji scribbled furiously in a black notebook, tutting irritably.

“Tell me what you are feeling. Be specific.” You swallowed thickly at the order, begging your tongue to move.

“The…...the room…..the room is-”

“Spit it out, I don’t have all day.”

“S-spinning. The room….is spinning” you slurred.

“How fast?”

“Fast.”

“I said how fast?”

“I….I can’t….”

Reiji tsked angrily, snapping his notebook shut. Flinching, you tried to turn away from his sharp gaze but a cold hand pinned you flat against the couch. Your delayed reaction time was no match for his vampiric strength.

“I can feel your heart racing from here,” he said, curling over you, pinning your wrists above your head. “Had I known you were such weak prey I would have given you a smaller dose. It isn’t as fun when you can’t fight back.” You wriggled underneath him, jerking weakly against his cruel grip. Reiji laughed, amused at your feeble attempts to escape.

“Although, I don’t hate this delirious expression,” he murmured, lowering his face towards yours. You squeezed your eyes shut, overwhelmed by his hungry stare. “I suppose this isn’t bad every once and a while.” His rich baritone rumbled in your ear, his proximity making you tremble.

“I didn’t think I’d interrupt this so soon,” interrupted a dark chuckle. Laito lounged against the doorframe of the lab, eyeing your entwined forms. “You must really like this one, Reiji,” he teased. Reiji’s iron grip tightened around your wrists and you whimpered pitifully. “It’s rude to enter someone’s room without knocking,” Reiji spat imperiously. “I knocked, but you didn’t answer!” Laito insisted, his eyes glinting with mirth. “But now I can see you were a bit distracted.” You lolled your head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of the intruder. Laito’s smirk widened.

“Christ, what did you do to her?”

“Such language is atrocious. You shouldn’t speak that way.”

“You fucked up the dosage, didn’t you?” Reiji shot up quickly at the accusation, swiping his notebook from the couch as he crossed briskly back towards his desk. Laito’s smirk cracked into a grin.

“Do you need something, Laito?” Reiji asked coolly. As Reiji began tidying his work space, Laito sauntered over to the couch, his green gaze boring into you. Crouching down, he gently brushed his fingers across your cheek. You shivered under his cold touch. “I came for the aphrodisiac you promised me,” Laito said, trailing his fingers down your neck. He stopped to trace the hollow of your throat, caressing it with his thumb. “But if you don’t have it, I’m sure there are other ways we can pass the time inst-”

“Of course I have it,” Reiji scoffed. Plucking a vial of blue liquid from his stores, he crossed the room and offered it to Laito. “Now please take it and leave.” Reiji’s words hung in the air like frost. Laito rose languidly, like a cobra rearing back to strike, then swiped the vial from Reiji’s gloved hand.

“Maybe next time, Bitch-Chan,” Laito said, winking at you. “And Reiji,” Laito called, pivoting in the doorframe for one last jab. “I know it can be hard to control yourself, especially this close to a full moon, but try not to tear this one up like the last one, ok? You should save some for the rest of us.”

“Get out!” Reiji snarled, storming across the room. Laito darted off, disappearing as quickly as he had come. Reiji slammed the door behind him.

The ceiling swam before you in lethargic swirls of periwinkle. You had no idea what Laito meant, but you could feel Reiji fuming in the doorway. What was he talking about? Reiji never lost his cool. You couldn’t imagine him doing something like that. “You let him touch you,” Reiji seethed.

“Reiji, I...I didn’t….I didn't want-”

“Please be silent.Your behavior today has been dreadful.” Reiji prowled towards the couch, his long shadow casting a dark pall across your face. You closed your eyes, terrified to meet his furious eyes. “You couldn't do a thing?” He queried, towering above you. “You couldn’t cry out? Or swat him away?” His voice was ice.

“I…..I froze….”

“I suppose that’s to be expected from a woman like you,”

“I’m so-sorry,”

“How should I punish my little harlot?” Finally bending down towards you, Reiji cupped your face firmly with his gloved hand. “Your pupils are still so dilated. I doubt you’d feel my whip at all.” The thought made you shiver, and not completely out of fear. Reiji thumbed your lip idly as he thought.

“Suck….my blood?” He tsked at your suggestion.

“You ask for it so brazenly, sometimes I think you enjoy it. Hands up.” You heaved your arms up over your head as Reiji smoothly rolled your top up your body, tossing it aside once it was completely off.

“I suppose it’s my fault. I’ve been too lax with you,” he mused, settling firmly on top of you. You were particularly aware of his pelvis, pressing insistently against the cradle of your thighs. He cupped your face, drawing you close. “I need to teach you exactly who you belong to,” he said, his gaze drifting down hungrily to the column of your neck. “I’ll remind you so thoroughly of your place that even a dumb whore like you will be able to remember who owns her,” he promised, sinking his teeth viciously into your throat.

Reiji’s first bite was hard and precise, the sharp pain briefly thrusting you into lucid panic. But soon you were left with the warm afterglow of pleasure in the wake of its pain. It never stopped hurting, not entirely, but his bites always left you with a fluttering warmth. Reiji’s mouth was on you. You couldn’t help but enjoy it.

Reiji began a fast, desperate rhythm that pulled blood from you quickly, sending you reeling. You whimpered as your world whirled impossibly faster. When darkness began to flicker at the edges of your vision Reiji pulled away, burying his face into your neck. “You bring out the worst in me,” he sighed. Mouthing along your throat, he continued downward towards your collarbone. You braced yourself for another bite, but recoiled sharply when Reiji placed a delicate kiss upon your chest.

“Look at me, jealous of that pervert.” He kissed your chest again, skimming his fingers across the delicate skin of your décolletage. “Arch your back.” Curving your spine upwards, your body brushed against Reiji’s lean frame. You trembled as his hands ghosted along your back, making their way towards the clasp of your bra. Reiji unhooked it with quick ease then tossed the lacy fabric away, greedily cupping your naked breasts. A thin, breathy gasp escaped from you as Reiji dipped between them, kissing your soft curves. You tangled your hands in his hair, humming your approval. In response he tweaked your nipple harshly, sending a jolt of pain through your cloud of pleasure. You yelped at the enticing contrast.

“Let me remind you of your place. You are nothing more than food to me,” he said, pinching your nipple again with a renewed vengeance. You drunkenly brought your hands back to push him away, but he easily pinned them back above your head. “You are meat. Your blood is the only worthwhile thing about you.” Reiji sunk his teeth into the swell of your breast, drawing deep from you. Crying out, you tried to ignore the pleasure his bite ignited in you, trying to focus only on the pain.

“I can taste your arousal,” he groaned between mouthfuls. “Does your masochism know no bounds?” Reiji’s insults didn’t last as he dove back down again to litter your chest with angry bites. He’d kiss you, so tenderly it was almost painful, then pierce your sensitive skin with his sharp, pointed fangs. Once satisfied, he’d lick, suck and kiss the abused spot until an angry mark began to form. He left bruises everywhere in his wake, a garden of purple hickeys blossoming across your breasts.

The drug made it nearly impossible to meaningfully fight back but you didn’t really want to. Reiji’s words stung, but you so rarely had his attention like this. Was it because the full moon was close? You knew vampires had trouble controlling their urges when the moon was full. And Reiji so desperately wanted control: of his brothers, of you, of himself. Was this frenzied beast the real Reiji, or was his protesting, rigid persona the real him? Impossibly, you knew he had to be both. Both enraptured and repulsed by his own desires and completely unable to hide it. That was really why he was mad. Reiji’s wet tongue interrupted your musings as he lapped against your sore nipple, sending a shudder through your entire body. Unable to remove your wrists from his grasp, you retaliated by wrapping your legs around his hips, trapping him against you. Now it was Reiji’s turn to shudder, rutting himself against your core. He was hard.

“My, you really are out of it,” he murmured, grinding himself against you openly. “It’s the only explanation.”

“Explanation for what?” You panted, trying to match his thrusts. Reiji released your wrists, propping himself up on his left arm. Delicately biting the fabric across the tip of his pointer finger, he slid his glove from his hand. Ripping it away, Reiji’s bare hand skimmed down your body and over your curves. Flipping up your skirt, his fingers slid between your thighs.

“For this,” he says, tracing your wetness through your panties. Your eyes fluttered shut. “Reiji,” you breathed, arching towards his fingers.

“Say my name,” Reiji ordered softly, dipping underneath the fabric and rewarding you with long, firm strokes. You called his name again and he moved up towards your clit, circling it once before quickly pulling away. You whined at the loss.

Reiji begins a vicious rhythm, rubbing your clit with firm circles, then backing off when your pleasure mounts. He only returns to your clit when you beg him to, crying out for him. Fisting your hands in his shirt, you whine in frustration as a needy ache builds inside you. Reiji just smirks down at you, enjoying your torment. When tears start building in your eyes, he finally slides a slender finger into your heat. Beckoning upward along your inner wall, he firmly massages your g spot. Mindlessly, you grind down on his fingers, chasing your pleasure.

“Who makes you feel this good?” he asks, his ruby eyes alight with lust.

“You do,” you gasp.

“I asked you who,” he demanded, cruelly massaging your inner wall. You jerk at the pressure, almost cresting over the plateau.

“Reiji! Reiji Sakamaki!” you cry, desperate for release.

“Good girl,” he smirks, thumbing your clit. You gasp in delight, the rough, consistent circles of his fingers finally hurtling you towards your peak. “You don’t deserve this,” he growls in your ear, his deep velvety voice bewitching you. “But when I see you like this, I can’t stop myself. You’re mine.” Your orgasm hits you hard, squeezing Reiji’s fingers in hot contractions. Pleasure washes over you in a wave, your entire being gently pulsing. Reiji smugly guides you through your orgasm, only stopping his ministrations once your twitching has ceased. You sigh, melting back into the cushions of the couch. Above you, a belt buckle clinks.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Reiji says, gripping your thighs and yanking you forcefully back towards him. As he settles above you, he presses the tip of his member against your eager entrance. Pushing forward, Reiji sinks into you with ease. “My little harlot is so wet for me,” he teases, before setting a ruthless pace.

Reiji fucks you selfishly, chasing his own pleasure now that he’s satisfied yours. You lay back, still enjoying the lingering effects of his drug. His thrusts pull soft, pleasured moans from you as he plunges desperately into you. Closing your eyes, you revel in the sensations, happy to let him use you. Occasionally he’ll sheathe himself all the way inside of you and grind desperately against your cervix, trying to get as deep as he can.

“I can’t believe you like this. That you like me,” he pants softly, definitely to himself. Reiji lets you pull him down so that he is completely flush against your body. “I do. I like you, Reiji.” A groan rips from him and he stills, spilling himself inside of you.

You stay that way for a moment, holding each other tenderly in the afterglow of your love-making. You wish you could stay like this, enjoying the feeling of his body as it presses you into the cushions, gently stroking his back as both of your breathing returns to normal. But Reiji recovers faster than you do. “I’ll clean you up,” he offers, his tone clipped.

Reiji cleans you thoroughly with a warm wet towel, which feels strange but is not unenjoyable in your impaired state. It’s deeply intimate in a way that is definitely uncomfortable, but you think it’s his way of taking care of you. You close your eyes, pliant. His large hands drift over your body, tugging your top back over you and righting your skirt. Once he is finished you curl on your side, completely spent and ready to sleep. As you begin to drift off, you feel something warm and soft envelop you. A blanket? Maybe. Where did he get a blanket?

Reiji watches as you snuggle into the blanket he has recently taken to keeping in his desk, a genuine smile flickering across his stern features.

#reiji sakamaki #diabolik lovers #reiji x reader #Reiji Sakamaki x Reader #my little harlot #the night shift

326 notes · View notes

moonshineboyz · 3 years

Text

[16:38]

Pairing: Kevin × fem reader

Genre: fluff, fluff, fluff

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: none

a/n: first of all, english isn’t my first language, so... i had this idea after discussing make out session with kev involving glasses with @cobbae also, i got a bit carried away idk what happened. plsss give the moonlight boy his kisses and tell him he’s beautiful bc he deserves. aand thank you @mistresskate101 for hyping me up 🥺

masterlist ♡

You ran your fingers through Kevin's hair, getting them out of his face just so you could admire his god-like features, looking at him through the lenses of your glasses with so much love and affection that you swore your heart would explode.

Kevin meant so much to you, he was your everything, your safe place. You couldn't feel any more comfort and safety anywhere else other than in his embrace, the way he'd put his arms around your waist and pull you closer, so close that you could feel each other's hearts beating and make you put your head on his chest.

Dating and living with Kevin Moon was an everyday experience, each day you could write down a new way he has found to show his love towards you and make you feel even more loved and cared about. Be it through actions, through words, through strumming his guitar in a cozy afternoon just for you to listen or even through melodies he would hum you to sleep while stroking your hair.

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn't even hear Kevin talking to you, even though you were sitting on his lap facing him, looking right into his shiny eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked again in a low voice due to the proximity, his fingers grazing at the small of your back. Eyes locked on yours so full of love and admiration.

You lightly smiled shaking your head briefly and whispering a tiny "you". Both your hands cupped his face, thumbs caressing his cheeks. "You're so beautiful, you know that?" You said, taking the opportunity to press a soft kiss in his forehead, to which Kevin could only smile with eyes closed.

His hands on your back brought you closer, holding you tight and leaving little to none space between your torsos. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and inhaled your sweet perfume that always made him even weaker for you every time he breathed you in.

It was incredible how Kevin never failed to make you feel all warm and tingly inside, even after three years together you still couldn't be over the butterflies in your stomach and the buzzing sensation inside your chest. It felt like you were his only one, his whole world. And it was alright, because he was yours too.

Your hands travelled to the back of his head to lightly scratch it while your other hand drew small circles on his back. "You must love me so much to be thinking of me even when I'm right under your nose."

"Yeah, I do love you so much, Moon Hyungseo." You giggled. "But it's your fault because you're so good looking."

Kevin then lifted his head from your neck to look at you, eyes glued on yours. "Well, so let me tell you something." His face came closer so you could feel his breath tickling your skin. He held your face just the way you did to him a few minutes earlier, put a strand of hair behind your ear and adjusted your glasses to your face. "You're the most gorgeous girl in the world." His lips curled up in a smile and you got reminded one more time what it was like to feel at home.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and let your lips met his in a soft passionate kiss, felling a wave of chills run through your whole body as if you were about to melt at any moment, due to feeling so overwhelmed with Kevin. He held the back of your head and with his free hand he slightly brushed his fingers on the skin of your waist under your shirt, which made you smile.

"God, I want you forever. How did I get so lucky to have you?" He whispered against your lips and your heart was beating like crazy, it felt like it was about to jump out of your chest. How did you get so lucky to have a man like Kevin? Was the only thing you could think about when you answered back that you wanted to stay forever.

The, at first, slow kiss was now starting to get needier, but with no lust nor sexual desire involved right now, just pure love. A shiver going down your spine when Kevin's tongue touched yours, head spinning as you felt drunk on him already.

Your glasses began to slide from your nose and Kevin started bumping into them as he was keeping your head so close to his own. At first you both just tried to ignore it, giggling every time he bumped again and tsked, mouths too busy to separate from each other, until he had enough.

Your boyfriend pulled away from you and reached for your face. "Excuse me, I can't work with these on the way", he said jokingly and you rolled your eyes chuckling, him taking off your glasses and placing it on the nightstand beside your bed. He caressed your cheek and pulled you in for another kiss. "Much better."

You just loved how you'd lose track of time whenever you were with Kevin, he had this effect of making you forget anything else and only focus on him. You could've had the worst day ever, but everything would be alright again once you came home to him to feel his warmth and hear his sweet kind words, and even some jokes so you'd smile.

He was the only one who could calm your storms. And you were the only one who could take his mind off of things when he was having a bad day. You'd bring him to the couch or bed with you and make him lay down resting his head on your chest and arms around your waist, hugging you like you were his personal teddy bear. He'd doze off to sleep hearing you whisper words of affirmation.

You smiled into the kiss when Kevin gently bit your bottom lip, you pecked his lips a few times more and pulled away, putting your forehead against his. "Don't ever leave." He said hugging even tighter.

"Don't worry, I'm not planning on doing that. You're stuck with me."

"Good, because I need someone to keep dyeing my hair." You let out a chuckle, calling him your idiot and he kissed the tip of your nose.

You stared deep into his eyes, swearing that you've had never found such comforting and welcoming eyes. Just like Kevin, you wanted him forever too.

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