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yanderechuu · 3 years

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Shower Thoughts

yandere!Class 1A x fem!reader

[3.2K]

Summary: Momo wasn’t as trustable as you had presumed.

Warning: Larceny, nonconsensual touching, masturbation

│

You used to spend roughly ten minutes in the shower, only ever needing to soak your body in the water, apply shampoo and body wash before rinsing all the foam of products from your skin and scalp. Shower thoughts simply consisted of the day’s agenda or any special occurrence that had happened the past week, never really drifting off to existential questions and dark notions that would keep you from leaving the bathroom later than usual. You neither necessarily liked taking a shower nor did you dread it, as to you it was only ever a mandatory routine of the day which you handled with a neutral mind.

But now, ten minutes were already a slow thirty, and majority of the time you bothered not to move your arms to make work of your hair, or lather your skin with soap as you normally would do had it not been for the questions plaguing your mind like how your classmates would terrorize your time and space.

Right, your classmates - who would spend every hour of the day with you as if they didn’t have anything better to do. As if you were an important subject of matter next to hero training. You never appreciated it, because from the start, you did not want to have anything do to with them. They smothered and coddled you as if air wasn’t that important to you, disregarding the way you felt about personal space, how it was very significant to you. Rare were the moments of peace as a few of them were always by your side, ‘ensuring your safety’ as they would like to quote it. Why ensure your safety? You had not been a prominent figure in the sports festival, neither did you have a quirk that could be of great utility for the villains unlike Bakugou or Tokoyami. You weren’t a problem child, either. Their justification of following you around like you were some sort of high-maintenance prisoner made no sturdy sense to you.

“There’s this new package of green tea my mother had sent me this week! Would you like to try it, (y/n)?”

“Sure.”

But if you had to choose among your classmates one whom you would tolerate for the following years you’d be in U.A., that would be Yaoyorozu Momo. She was kind and considerate, often determining your feelings before you could voice it out (not that you really had the courage to, most of the time). She was organized and pristine and never had you met someone more befitting for the definition of ‘mom friend’ than her. She was perfect in nearly every way, and even though you’d have the occasional pang of jealousy at some times her perfectionism was displayed (gender envy, isn’t it, (y/n)?), she never seemed to bear mal intent, so you would let the emotions slide. You’d see the galaxy in her eyes if you would stare long enough. Her tea was best substitute for coffee, too.

You never considered her more than a very great friend, though, and to her, that was a problem.

As you sauntered your way over to your dorm with her, you shuffled your bag to take your room key buried in the side pockets. “I’ll go down in a while, but you better make sure you’re in the common room before me.”

You wouldn’t allow your classmates to take advantage of your lone self simply because Momo wasn’t there to fend them off.

“Mhm! Lemon green tea as usual, correct?”

“Yeah. Thanks again, YaoMomo.”

Your use of sotto voce tone on her nickname gave a pleasant shiver down her spine; her eyes almost rolled to the back of her head had she not restrained herself. Having been always kept to yourself, you never felt the need to adjust your volume for others to hear properly, so oftentimes your voice came out in a whisper - not that she minded, of course. You sounded more sensual that way.

“Are you going to take a while or will I have to brew tea right away?”

“Training was more strenuous than usual, and my muscles can’t seem to relax,” you explained, “so I’m going to take a quick shower.”

From your peripheral vision as you were focused on your bag to fish out the key, you saw Momo’s jaw slack upon hearing your plan to take a bath. It was odd, but you didn’t give particular attention to it when you finally took out your desired item. You failed to notice the way she abruptly settled her gaze on the key, inspecting it as if she was deliberating its shape, form, and material, and installing it to memory.

“Oh- oh!” She exclaimed. “I do remember having some body wash that help soothe muscle strains and body aches. I can hand them to you if you want.”

You shook your head, smiling lightly. “You’re too kind, YaoMomo. But I think just hot water will do for me.”

She watched as you opened the door to your room, giving her one more smile before disappearing inside and locking the door with a distinct click. As soon as you did so, she pulled the sleeve of her wrist up, developing with her body lipids a key the exact copy of the one you had held.

You certainly lied when you had said you were going to take a ‘quick’ shower. Already ten minutes into it did you only decide to sleek yourself with liquid body soap, initially absentmindedly rubbing it on your body, before you gradually got rougher with your movements and soon you found yourself scuffing your own flesh with vehement motion.

They were excessively touchy again, your classmates. Denki got too close to your face while delivering a pick-up line that made you wish you didn’t exist in order to hear it, and upon nearing you did Bakugou pull you away from him, cursing at him to buzz off. He took his time feeling up your waist - the part he used to grab you - while at it. During lunch, as you were once again coerced into joining his group to the cafeteria, Izuku refused to let go of your hand as you walked, and Uraraka as adamant with hugging you by the hips with one arm. It was what girlfriends did, she said, and you were not entirely sure whether or not she referred to that word romantically.

And if not, then did girlfriends also normally touch the parts of which you did not want to be touched on? You felt, clear as day, a bare hand resting on your thigh when you sat on your usual spot, dangerously close to lifting your skirt for everyone to see, and when you gave Hagakure’s faceless face a questioning look, she asked you what was wrong. Her uniform sleeve was literally floating on top of your lap, and still she had the gall to pretend as if she was not touching you with lacking consent.

You were not safe from Shoto, either, when he offered to readjust your uniform tie and you were in no place to decline (you had the right to, but they just stripped you off of it), his breath hitching in ecstasy as his fingers brushed your chest; he was, audaciously enough, not hiding his bliss. Then he rubbed your shoulders to ‘warm you up,’ when all he really intended to do was motivate his own fantasy that you were his and he was simply scenting you like some fucking alpha to his omega.

You turned no blind eye to their gesticulations. You never once found it endearing, and wished they would stop with whatever the hell this was called, because you were quite sure this was past the border of molestation and could already be rendered a form of bullying.

But not once did you consider the possibility of having a class obsessed with your quaint self.

So you supposed that until you’d find a way to deduce their idiosyncratic actions and tendencies then you would have to make do with your own bathroom as your safe space. Momo was the only classmate you could confide to, so at least she was there.

Unfortunately, you had yet to see the other side of her coin.

Because as she was just right outside your bathroom door, obsessively taking in every bit of item you owned inside your dorm room like a madman, you were left with the impression that she was all you could ever ask for in a friend. You didn’t know how she was not any better than the rest of your classmates, adoring your very existence to the extent of insanity; how she’d crave for you so often and so terribly that she’d feel herself clench when you do so much as merely spare her a glance. And you had done that a lot today - she would have to relieve herself for it.

She spotted the heap of clothes right by your bed; it became apparent that you had stripped yourself off of it before entering the bathroom and taking a shower. Walking towards it, a portion of your seamless underwear came to view, and she resisted the urge to render into a mound of horniness in order to pick it up and inspect it closely.

It was a lighter color of (s/c). A plain, simple, modest undergarment item, still it evoked a particular feeling on the bottom center of Momo’s hips. The heat came rushing along her midriff and instigated the muscle of her legs to falter, and as soon as she felt it, a hand of hers drifted past her skirt, feeling up the slick accumulated on the fabric of her own panties only with the knowledge that your panties were currently in her possession. She needed release, but you were nearly finished with your bath, and she was still inside your room.

You walked out of the shower the moment she shut the door of your bedroom. You saw it closed, but you didn’t catch the culprit.

This unnerved you to no end. Undoubtedly, you thought, this had to be one of your classmates. Who else was it supposed to be? Aizawa-sensei (...)? You had yet to know their ultimatum, but you were sure this occurrence was another one of their schemes. You had assumed that all their weird, unappreciated antics were just to get you to socialize with them, but now you didn’t understand why it had gotten to the point of entering your room without permission.

You couldn’t keep this to yourself.

So you planned to bring it up to Momo, a representative of your class and someone whom you deemed trustable enough to share it with. Quickly, you dressed into your casual indoor attire, and rushed outside your room to head to the kitchen, where you presumed she’d be in the process of making your tea. But she wasn’t there.

Instead, she was in her own room, your panties muzzled right into her face and her own fingers buried deeply inside her cunt.

“Oh- oh, god- Ah! (Y/n)!”

Oh god, your panties. Oh god, your panties. The object most intimate to your parts of intimacy, soaking every bit of womanly secretion from your genitalia. Of all the masturbation sessions she had done to the thought of you, this was the hottest. She wasn’t quite sure whether to imagine your cunt on her lips in a position of mutual cunnilingus or your fingers thrusting into her in place of hers. She wanted both.

A whine slipped past her lips. To think that moments ago, she was in the same space as you were nude. Oh, to join you in the bathroom, doing inenarrable things to each other with the use of the showerhead. To touch your skin selfishly rather than only watch as she would do during class hours.

She came with a squeal, falling face-down to bite the duvet of her large bed. Gone in her hazy mind was her promise to you of lemon green tea, and as she still basked in the pathological euphoria of getting off, you were in the common room, anxiously waiting for her return.

But just as you had expected, someone was bound to spot you alone and take this as an opportunity to be with you, and they just so happened to be-

Oh. Aoyama.

He offered you a slice of cheese with his usual grin before settling down a few feet beside you, enough to leave you be in your personal bubble. You gave him occasional glances, unwrapping the cheese from its casing and he just sat there, eating his. He was alright, you guessed - another tolerable classmate of yours next to Momo. Perhaps it was because you used to always be alone in the classroom with him during break time that you were at ease with his presence. Or maybe he just seemed so gay and that, for some reason, comforted you. One gay presence could comfort another lol.

“It’s delicious.” Your comment came out inadvertently.

“Oui. Only the best quality for the best person.” He flaunted.

You weren’t exactly sure whether he was referring to you or to himself, but you paid little attention to that as the cheese was certainly delicious; you were not lying.

“It’s odd how your chose to take a bath at this time of the day.” He spoke.

You stopped chewing.

He meant to refer to your damp hair, but having just suspected your class of breaking and entering your room, you thought otherwise.

“I-” You choked on the cheese, ending up needing to gulp it like liquid content instead of breaking it down to fit your throat.

Immediately, he sprang up in concern, stepping over to you to gently thump you on the back. “Are you alright?”

“No- I mean- I just-!” You wheezed, occasionally having to clear your throat. You swatted his hand away from you; you hadn’t meant to appear rude, but you did. You stood up in a rush. “L-look, I have to go.”

“Don’t you want to drink water?”

“I’m- fine,”

With your words, you took off from the common room area and headed back to your room. There were two sets of emotions that mixed to form the bile in your throat. One was wrath and humiliation upon the discovery of Aoyama’s actions. The other was betrayal and confusion from Momo’s absence when she had said she’d be brewing tea for you, and it wasn’t the tea that disheartened you. She knew of your issue with the class, and if she were busy, couldn’t she have texted you a heads-up?

She shouldn’t be surprised when at the next time she saw you, you interacted with her less. Your intention to distance yourself from her was most prominent, and it didn’t help that your classmates took notice of this, because now they were taking advantage of the situation, tagging you along with them in spite of your futile attempts to decline now that Momo was nowhere to tell them off. When she’d talk to you, you would answer, though your voice was back to speaking to her like she was a stranger.

Resentment was stronger than ruing the lack of intimacy between you two. It was as if she had received your panties in exchange for the time she’d be spending with you, oddly enough. After much deliberation, she came to realize that this was your little ‘tantrum’ after not being able to meet with her the other day.

It was pretty cute, she thought, that you’d try and make her acknowledge the fault on her part by ignoring her.

You didn’t walk with her back to dorms as per usual that dismissal. Instead, just like what you had used to do before finding consolation in her, you walked alone, accomplishing being able to avoid your classmates as you did. By the time she reached the dorms, you were in the kitchen, fetching a glass of water to satiate your throat. She took a hold of your wrist before you went back to your room.

“(Y/n),” she pleaded, “tell me what’s wrong.”

You looked at her with a reluctant expression. Perhaps you should. After the short while that you had been hanging out with her, her presence turned into something you came to miss. You wanted her back, but not in the way she wanted you.

“I-it’s just,” you stammered out, “y-you know how I feel being alone in the common room without you. I... I’m not comfortable with our classmates when you’re not around.” She took pride in this. “I don’t take it lightly how you left me alone the other day...”

Your voice faltered out the longer you spoke.

So she was correct; you were certainly having your little ‘tantrum.’ With a guilty smile, she left your wrist to hold your hand tenderly, and suddenly it dawned upon you the feeling of whenever Bakugou held your waist, Shoto nuzzled his face on your neck or Izuku invaded your personal space.

Fear and apprehension.

Before you could preach your objection to whatever she had planned ahead for you, she dragged you along with her and you both reached her dorm room before you could comprehend where she was taking you.

“I’ll make it up to you.” She said, making you sit on her large bed.

Then she proceeded to make you tea, boiling water with an electric kettle situated on top of her study desk; there also laid a tea set next to her three books, which you assumed were those of which would aid her in the utility of her quirk, like encyclopedias. Beside those was a piece of cloth, unfolded, unkept - a (s/c)-colored silk fabric.

Your face drained of color.

She pushed the books towards the cloth, completely obscuring it from your view and leaving the table disorganized. You knew Momo, neat and orderly as much as possible; she wouldn’t do that without reason.

Now that you thought about it, the same day someone had barged in your room, your underwear had been missing from your set of laundry garments. You spent the next whole day actively avoiding Aoyama, thinking he was the culprit to this felony. At the present moment you were reconsidering your allegation.

“U-um, Momo, I need to go-”

“Here!”

She yelled it so giddily, so uncharacteristically, as she pushed the cup of tea towards your way. How she did so was very quick that you had not the time to take it properly, and steaming liquid fell to your décolletage, past the cotton of your uniform and streaming down the valley of your breasts. It was a moist mess. She loved every bit of it.

“Oh! Oh, my bad. I’ll- I’ll clean you up!” She exclaimed, all flushed and excited.

You didn’t find it in you to push her back when she began to do exactly what she had said, taking your blazer off, loosening your school tie and unbuttoning the dress shirt underneath, only ever being able to stare at her with eyes that evinced betrayal, because it slowly occurred to you that she was satiating her own selfish obsession with you all under the ruse of maintaining a decent friendship.

“(Y/n),” She breathed out, “I adore you.”

She was no different than the rest of your classmates, and you were a fool to think otherwise.

#bnha x reader #bnha #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia #yandere x reader #yandere class 1a #class 1a x reader #reader insert #x reader #yandere bnha #momo yaoyorozu x reader #momo x reader #momo x y/n #yandere #yandere momo yaoyorozu #yandere momo #yanderechuu

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seokoloqy · 4 years

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The Ravenheart Manor

➳ PAIRING(s): ot7 x reader

➳ GENRE: smut, pwp, mythical creature!au

➳ WORD COUNT: 4.1K

➳ WARNINGS: aphrodisiacs, suggestive content, more warnings will be added in each chapter

➳ SUMMARY: you’re the new maid at the Ravenheart Manor. Take your chance with each of its peculiar residents (hey, does that one have a tail?) after accidentally ingesting a powerful aphrodisiac that might just kill you if you don’t give in to your burning desires.

➳ A/N: at the end of the story it will be split off into seven different parts. Each of them dedicated to a different member they don’t have to be read in order and they are not connected. Enjoy your descent into monster fucker hell~

—

Rain pours all around you and it only seems to grow stronger the longer you wait at the looming door. You had rapped your knuckles against the ornate door twice now, but the manor is so large you doubt anyone would have heard unless they were lingering next to the door.

Your fingers begin to feel numb when the howling winds pick up. You raise your hand again to knock with all your strength, hoping someone will answer before you freeze.

Before your hand hits the door for the third time, the doors pull open and you’re greeted by a man in a waistcoat. His dark hair contrasts with his pale skin. He scans you slowly, eyes drifting down your shivering body, pretending not to notice how your clothes stick to your curves. He makes a small sound of approval before meeting your eyes.

To you, he seems normal, but that would be completely incorrect. When you took this job, you knew it’d be at your own risk. It pays so well you don’t even care about the dangers you potentially face.

“You must be the new help,” he says, pulling the door open wider. You get a glimpse of the inside and the grand decor. “Welcome to the Ravenheart Manor. I’m Yoongi, the butler. I’ll be helping you adjust to life here.”

You lift your suitcase and cross the threshold, taking in your surroundings. Yoongi reaches for your suitcase. When your hands touch briefly, you feel colder than before. You would have dropped your entire suitcase if he hadn’t grabbed it.

Yoongi isn’t phased, instead, he moves along, deeper into the heart of the manor. You force yourself to shake it off and follow him. You might as well get used to this. There’s certainly more encounters like this to come.

“I believe you’ve already been informed of this, but the residents here, including myself, aren’t exactly human. I would like to preface that before you meet them.”

“Yes, I’ve been told.”

You only know that they’re each different creatures, but you’re not entirely sure what. You can’t even tell what Yoongi is yet, but judging by his dark aura, he’s nothing to be messed with.

“May I ask what you are?”

He grins as if he were waiting for you to ask, but doesn’t turn around to meet your gaze. “A demon. If you’re not careful I could steal away your soul and your face. So I suggest not messing up.”

Although his tone is playful, you doubt he’s joking.

—

In the dining area, two men lounge in chairs across from each other, neither of them eating. One has his feet up on the white linen; his mud-coated boots stain the fabric. A toothpick rests between his lips and his eyes travel the pages of a worn book. The other nurses a cup of dark liquid that he seems mesmerized in, watching his tired reflection stare back at him. The room smells of coffee and you assume that’s what he’s drinking, despite the clock ticking close to midnight.

The ambient candle lighting is warm, casting a soft glow over the room. With the rain battering against the window it creates a cozy atmosphere, and for a brief moment, it’s almost a place you’d call home.

Yoongi clears his throat and both men call their attention towards you and you’re suddenly reminded of the dangers beneath this roof.

The man with his feet on the table grins, his canines peeking beneath his upper lip, plucking the toothpick from his mouth and shutting his novel with a loud slam that startles the other man out of his daze. “A toy? You love to spoil us, don’t you, Yoongi?”

“She’s not your toy, master Taehyung,” Yoongi says, eyes narrowing slightly at Taehyung’s shoes muddying up the table. “This is ___ and as of today she will be assisting me with chores around the manor.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t play around with her,” Taehyung pouts, “Jungkook, doesn’t she look like fun?”

Jungkook meets your eyes and immediately flushes, turning back to stare into his black coffee. “I don’t know,” he mutters, curling into himself like he wants to disappear.

Taehyung laughs, rich and melodious laughter, throwing his head back against his chair, “don’t mind him. All baku are shy things. It’s cute—don’t you agree, ___?”

At that, Jungkook dips his head lower, dark hair sweeping over his eyes as he tries hiding his embarrassment.

You don’t want to turn Jungkook any more red than he already is. You ignore Taehyung’s question and regard both men with a thin smile and a polite bow. “Hello, I’m eager to begin working here.”

Taehyung swings his boots off the counter—much to Yoongi’s relief—and leans forward with his elbow resting on the table and chin propped in his hands. His tongue wets his lower lip like a starving wolf.

“Will you call me master as well, ___?” Taehyung queries, popping his toothpick back in his mouth with a sly grin.

Your heart hammers at his charming smile.

“If you wish.”

“I’d love nothing more, my dear.”

You take a deep breath through your nose, unsure of your next words.

“Well then, master, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Taehyung’s smile drops and for a second you can see the predatory gaze in his eyes that tells you he craves to pounce on you. Maybe if Yoongi and a Jungkook weren’t in the room, he would. Maybe he’d have you pressed against the wall before you could say anything more and devour you completely. His voice is lower when he speaks again, any trace of his teasing attitude gone. “I think we’ll have a lot of fun together, my dear.”

—

“This room is the bathing area. You’ll be sharing it with the rest of the residents here. There is a scheduled amount of time for you to bathe alone, however. So don’t worry about anyone barging in on you.” Yoongi says, opening the door, releasing a thick cloud of steam. Upon entering, you notice the large bath in the center with two shadowy figures in the fog.

“You get off on making me angry, don’t you?” The hiss comes from the steam. “I said, don’t touch my things!”

“It’s just soap, Hobi. Relax before you pull something.”

Before you can turn away after the fog clears, you’re met with two men at the bath. One is submerged in the water with his arms crossed over the ledge and the other stands over him with a towel wrapped around his waist.

The one not in the bath has a scowl on his face, but more importantly, two leathery white and blue wings protruding from his back and a large sweeping tail matching in color tucked under his towel.

“Touch my things again and I’ll tie you up in the sun till you shrivel,” the one with the tail threatens.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Ahem,” Yoongi clears his throat. “Masters, may I introduce our newest guest?”

You almost gawk at Yoongi for thinking now, when there are two men practically naked and arguing, is an appropriate time to introduce you. But then again, he is a demon. He must not have any qualms over things that you’d normally find inappropriate. He is the embodiment of sin, after all.

The one in the bath is the first to look at you. He gasps, pushing himself up from the water. Instead of seeing him completely naked, his waist blends into iridescent smooth scales. A shimmering tail flicks behind him, splashing water over the edge of the bath.

“I had no idea she’d be so cute! Say, care to join me for a bath, dear?”

Saving you from the embarrassing stutters that would’ve left your mouth, Yoongi interrupts, “there’s no time for that tonight, master Jimin. I’m sure ___ is tired from her trip here and would like to get to bed as soon as this tour is over.”

You hold in your sigh of relief.

Jimin pouts, dropping his arms back into the water with a splash. “Alright. Maybe next time.” The disappointment is marred on his beautiful face.

“Why’d you have to bring a human into the manor, Yoongi?” The second man says.

“I think she is very qualified for the job, master Hoseok.”

“Tch,” Hoseok scoffs. “She won’t last here.”

—

The crackling fireplace warms your rain-soaked body. Worn books line the walls in this next room. Yoongi guides you deeper into the library where there are two men sitting in chairs across from one another, pondering over a chessboard.

“This is very boring, Namjoon,” the blonde one huffs, propping his elbow on the table to cradle his chin. He looks out the looming window at the drops of rain battering against the window with a sigh. “Nothing like celestial games.”

The man opposite him gives a similar sigh as his hand hovers over a pawn, contemplating his next move carefully, “Seokjin, it’s been over a century since you were cast out. When will you stop comparing everything to the celestial realm?”

“When my Father gives me my true wings back.”

“So never,” Namjoon says matter factly, pushing his dark-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. He pulls his hand back and scans over all his pieces on the board with furrowed brows.

“Masters,” Yoongi calls. “Please meet our newest maid.”

Seokjin turns from the window and nearly grimaces at Yoongi, but as his eyes travel to you they light up, absolutely delighted to see you.

“Hello! Come join us!” Seokjin says, “would you like to play for me?”

He’d like to get out of playing chess anyway he can. He’s already halfway across the room to greet you before you can speak.

“Hello, I’m ___,” you greet politely, placing your hand in Seokjin’s outstretched one. He’s warm, unlike Yoongi. You already feel so much more comfortable just being near him. Namjoon said something about heaven and you assume he must have been an angel.

You become frozen when Seokjin brings your knuckles to meet his lips in a tender kiss.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ___.”

“The theatrics are unnecessary.” Namjoon gives a tired sigh from his chair, still intent on the board before finally moving his piece. After he’s satisfied with the move, he rises from the chair and strides across the room with confidence. When he stops, looming before you, he stares down at you with dangerous maroon eyes. “I’m Namjoon, owner of the Ravenheart Manor. I hope you do not disappoint me.”

—

It’s been about a month since you started working at this manor. You’ve gotten to know a little bit more about each of the residents, but only surface-level things.

You know that Namjoon is half vampire, half werewolf but doesn’t care to speak of his werewolf side. He sometimes disappears into the garden in the middle of the night. You can see him strolling around and disappearing behind hedges from your window. You’ve never been down there because Yoongi has you working dusk to dawn scrubbing down the manor or doing laundry until you can hardly move once your head hits the pillow.

Seokjin is a fallen angel who was cast out centuries ago, but can’t seem to stop reminiscing about his time there. You enjoy being around him the most. He always puts you at ease and is the only one who occasionally helps you with chores. He’ll help you sweep the floors and tell stories of Heaven that always captivate you.

Yoongi is a demon who seems to take a great amount of joy in bossing you around on your hands and knees. Every morning, just before the sun is over the horizon, he’s hovering over you with endless amounts of chores to do and a new list of your flaws and how you can do better.

Hoseok is a dragon and it seems like he just doesn’t like you at all. The subtle glare he gives you whenever you walk into a room makes you want to exit immediately. He likes to keep to himself in his room most of the day and away from the other residents. No one gets to go into his room at all because he locks the door. You’re not sure what he’s hiding in there.

Jimin is a siren who endlessly flirts with you about getting into the bath with him. You’ve heard the stories of sirens seducing their prey just to drown and eat them so you avoid being near the baths whenever he’s in, but it seems like he’s always in the bath. Sometimes you catch yourself being tempted by his sweet voice whenever he offers.

Taehyung is a kumiho that loves to tease and pull you onto his lap while he reads a book just to watch you grow flustered. You always find yourself thrown onto his lap whenever he’s nearby. He loves having you curled against him, one arm securely around your waist and the other with a book open on your lap.

Jungkook is a baku. He’s easily flustered by you, turning red easily whenever you’re around. He’s so quiet; sometimes you don’t even notice his presence in a room until someone acknowledges him.

You sigh as you pour a glass of blood for Namjoon in his usual tall glass. You spent the whole day dusting the library and pulling yourself from Taehyung’s affectionate grasp most of the time.

“Uh-”

Another voice entering the kitchen disrupts your futile attempts at relaxing. Caught off guard, you accidentally let out a yelp, nearly tipping out the entire pitcher of blood. Consequently, your help causes the intruder to jump as well.

“Sorry!” He says.

You turn around to find Jungkook shrinking away under the door frame and not some hungry monster you didn’t know inhabited the manor.

“What are you doing here?” you breathe a sigh of relief. Out of all the residents in this house, Jungkook is the least of your worries. Actually, you doubt he’s even capable of hurting anything with how timid he is.

“Do you need more coffee?” You gesture towards the empty mug clutched in his hand.

He nods, extending his cup towards you. His arm strains to hand the cup to you from the distance he’s put between you two.

By now, you’re not surprised he’s here asking for more caffeine at night. His unusual sleeping schedule (not that he ever sleeps), along with a filled cup of black coffee always clinging to his side, keeps him up all through the night. You’ve never questioned his obsession with coffee and the habit of staying up. You don’t know much about baku, but there probably is a good explanation for it.

“Um,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck, “You seem… stressed?”

“A little,” you admit, moving to take the coffee pitcher off the heat.

“Oh,” he trails off, not knowing what else to say. You can see the cogs turning in his head as he attempts to think of something to say or do. “Maybe something to drink will help?”

You laugh, “I don’t think coffee is going to help me relax, especially at night.”

Jungkook flushes, averting his gaze towards the cupboards. “Th-That’s not what I meant.”

He shuffles over to the cupboard and opens a panel to reveal where the liquor is kept. He grabs one of the bottles off the top shelf—an opaque rose-colored glass with a wide rounded bottom and long neck.

“Here. Jimin always drinks this whenever he’s stressed and brags about how it can make anyone feel good,” he extends the bottle towards you, “maybe this’ll help.”

You haven’t had a good drink since coming to the manor. Even with Yoongi’s voice in the back of your head nagging about how a good maid wouldn’t drink on the job and how he’d be disappointed by your actions, you find yourself reaching for the bottle.

You take the bottle from Jungkook, who surprisingly doesn’t flinch when you accidentally brush fingertips, but you can see the familiar pink flush across his cheeks.

“One or two drinks won’t hurt.”

—

You drank a few shots of the oddly sweet liquor before dinner could begin. It filled you with a pleasant warmth that ran through your entire body. True to Jungkook’s word, it did help you relax—maybe a little too much.

Now you’re sitting at the dinner table surrounded by all seven of the residents. Yoongi is hovering behind Jungkook, refilling another cup of coffee, still working to serve his masters. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him eat.

Tonight is a mandatory dinner where you all sit down and have dinner at one table. Usually, the residents have separate meals at separate times in their own rooms or wherever they can find prey—willing, submissive volunteers, as Jimin likes to call them—but Namjoon made it a rule to have dinner together at least once a week to help you find normalcy and feel more comfortable living with a group of supernatural creatures.

You absentmindedly poke at your meal while your stomach churns. You’re not in pain—far from it actually. The all too familiar heat between your legs has you slowly sliding your legs together underneath the table to ease the tension. The throbbing is subtle but it’s there, rendering you unable to focus on anything else but that need.

“Not hungry?” Namjoon asks you, dabbing blood off the corner of his lip with a white cloth.

You glance toward the head of the table where Namjoon sits back in his chair watching with sapphire eyes as your hand swirls around a spoon. You tense under his gaze, which is entirely devoid of emotions when it travels back to your face.

The month that you’ve been in this manor you’ve picked up on some things about its peculiar residents.

This always seemed to be Namjoon’s demeanor—composed and seemingly one step ahead of everyone else. Namjoon is always eerily calm even when he should be livid. It only makes him more intimidating to you.

You’ve always wondered what goes on in his head. Maintaining a mansion full of different mythical creatures must be tough on him, and if it is, he doesn’t let it show.

In the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi cradling the pitcher of coffee behind Jungkook. His silent stare is a warning. ‘Don’t let the masters know you’re struggling. Maintain your composure or be punished.’

Working closely with Yoongi has taught you a few things about him too. He hates upsetting his masters and if you mess a single thing up, one of two things can happen. He’ll begin to lecture you about not being an adequate maid or he’ll stay silent and watch you until you crumble and apologize.

His silence is what you’re most afraid of. You’ve never seen what he looks like as a demon; but when he’s upset with you, a cloud of thick dark smoke rises from his body. If you ever do get to see his real demon form, you’re positive punishment would be laid out for you.

And that’s how he looks at you now—silently.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you lie. Even without Yoongi’s warning eyes, you wouldn’t want them to know about the embarrassing need between your legs anyway. Though you’re sure Jimin or Taehyung wouldn’t mind jumping at the chance to help you. They’re always eager to touch you and keep you close to their sides. Their hands roaming your body doesn’t seem like such a bad idea right now though.

All chatter halts as all the men turn their curious eyes towards you, all of a sudden very interested in your loss of appetite. Seokjin even soothingly rubs your back with one hand and you can’t help but melt at his touch. It’s not uncommon for the former angel to give you a hug or a head pat when you’re feeling down, but this time his hands on you feel different.

It’s like his hand sends tingles throughout your body, more importantly between your legs, as it rubs warm and soothing circles on your back. His hands between your legs are all you can think of—the heavenly angel, sinning between your thighs. His lips, his tongue on you, licking up your arousal like it’s the sweetest ambrosia.

“If you’re not feeling well you should rest,” Seokjin says, moving his hand to your forehead to check your temperature.

Once his hand makes contact with your bare skin, you bite your lip at how warm his hand feels against you and you just want more of his touch. You want to feel all of him against you.

He flinches back once he touches your skin and his face scrunches up in worry. “Oh my, you’re burning up.”

“You’ve been working her too hard, Yoongi,” Taehyung says. He’s sitting on you’re right and leans in closer to inspect your heated face. His hand subtly slides onto your thigh and you immediately move your hand over his to make sure he doesn’t move it. He looks shocked by your unusually bold move. Normally, you play coy and pretend that you don’t like his sly advances and push him away.

“I only give her as much as she can handle, master.”

You let out an accidental whimper. Why did that sound so much more sexual than it was? The idea of Yoongi’s punishments has a different ring to you now. If you were to disobey Yoongi would he bend you over his lap and make you beg for forgiveness?

Your grip tightens around Taehyung’s hand.

The rest of the table looks at you wide-eyed, a few gaping, mainly Jungkook who looks ready to disappear into his chair.

“What the hell was that?” Hoseok blurts, averting his gaze from your heated one.

“You sound like me after a sip of my aphrodisiac,” Jimin giggles to which Jungkook pales.

“W-What?” he stutters, a panicked expression settling on his face.

Namjoon puts down his glass, licking the drop of blood on the corner of his lip.

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably, an action not unnoticed by Namjoon’s sharp eye.

“Speak,“ Namjoon says, shooting a sharp glare towards Jungkook, causing him to press himself further into his chair. "If you know what’s the matter, then speak, Jungkook.”

At the sound of his name, Jungkook almost yelps, anxious to admit his mistake. He ducks his head down and fiddles with his hands in his lap.

"I-I think I accidentally let her drink some of Jimin’s aphrodisiac,” he mutters underneath his breath, voice trailing off near the end. The atmosphere surrounding the table goes silent for a moment. Namjoon simply stares at Jungkook with silent anger. Jungkook avoids eye contact with the entire table, especially you.

“You!” Jimin laughs aloud, interrupting the silence, and points his finger towards Jungkook, hardly getting a word past his laughter. “You gave her my aphrodisiac?! What were you trying to do, Jungkook? Get her into bed with you?”

“No! No, I swear!” Jungkook cries, sounding more and more helpless and meak, “I-I didn’t mean to! I was only trying to help! S-She said she was stressed!”

Namjoon puts his elbows on the table and rubs his temples. A groan escapes him. “How much did you drink, ___?”

You don’t trust your voice to speak without sounding breathless and needy. “A little,” you respond weakly.

“And how much is a little?” he repeats this time the question is aimed towards Jungkook.

“One…eh, m-maybe four shots?”

Yoongi looks disappointed in you, but you don’t really seem to mind. Your thoughts are still on the kinds of punishment Yoongi’s hands could give you. “What am I going to do with you?” He tsks.

“Don’t worry; the potion should wear off in a couple of hours or so. If you need any help with those urges feel free to knock on my door.” Jimin winks from across the table. Given your state, you wouldn’t mind taking him up on that offer. You’ve often walked by and heard the sounds his ‘guests’ make in his bedroom all night long. His very skilled hands stroking your body, the sweet lull of a siren’s song singing in your ears as he-

“The aphrodisiac potion may wear off in a couple of hours for us but the same can’t be said for humans. ___ should be monitored in case this potion turns out to have more negative consequences than expected.” He turns toward you. “To make you more comfortable I’ll let you choose who you’d like to watch over you.”

WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO CHOOSE?

Seokjin - angel | coming soon

Namjoon - werewolf/vampire hybrid | coming soon

Yoongi - demon

Hoseok - dragon | coming soon

Jimin - siren | coming soon

Taehyung - kumiho | coming soon

Jungkook - baku | coming soon

#bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #jimin smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #bts fanfiction

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whet-ones-write · 4 years

Text

Alpha Bokuto, Ushijima and Sugawara Headcannons for the Omega Verse

Heyoooo Anon!! Of course I can!! I LOVE the omega verse One of my favourites actually!! I’ve been looking forward to writing this all day! I hope you enjoy the upcoming headcanons! Also i’m sorry Suga’s so short I really struggled with him being a alpha but I tried my bed! <3 <3 So without further ado. . .

LETS BEGIN! ( ✪ω✪)*✲⋆ Warnings; NSFW, knotting, creampies, and much much more~

Bokuto Kotaru;

★ This boy smells like a dense woodland, I would imagine something deep and out in the wilds where bears and other large woodland creatures dwell which would only get deeper when he’s in his rut.

★ Although this boy is born an Alpha it never truely is displayed until he meets you. He has this bright and playful aura that just attracts betas and Omegas to him which would be happy to follow him without a issue but when he meets you there is this pull that he just couldn’t describe. He wanted you in his arms the moment he saw you and never wanted any harm to come to you and keep you there forever.

★ Not only that he would be fiercely over protective of you. Whenever you were near he would always make sure you were protected which he didn’t even realise he was doing until Akashi pointed it out to him how he always put his body in front of yours if someone threatened or bullied you or even if there was a stray volleyball somewhere.

★ He wouldn’t care if you were a beta that couldn’t have kids. He would love you for you and protect you with everything that he hand because that’s what his body tells him to do and he was never one to not act on impulse anyway.

★ This man would absolutely knot you for the first time by accident. He would normally pull out to save any trouble or hassle but this one night which it happened you both had been dating for a while and you just riled him up that little bit too much. You weren’t in heat and he wasn’t in a rut so he knew exactly what he was doing and freaked out about it all, only to have you soothe him and cuddle him telling him you know it was an accident and that it was ok.

★ This boy has a dirty mouth. You need to wash this mouth out with soap with all the filthy things he would say. Praising you for how well you were taking his knot. How he was going to breed you over and over again making sure his children would be the cause of your loss in your figure and protect you the entire time, never leaving your side if he could help it. Yes this also gets worse when he’s in a rut. He practically humps your leg any chance he could without looking like a fool.

★ But once it was all said and done he would make sure you were ok, both physically and mentally, gently moving the pair of you to cuddle until his knot died down and even then he would make sure to stuff you full with something else to keep his semen inside you and help clean the rest of you up so you didn’t feel so sweaty and sticky in bed after a long night together.

★ This man wouldn’t notice the change in smells when you are finally pregnant with his children because he’s just so happy to have him beside you plus he’s a honry little owl, he always wants to be able to smell himself on you. It wasn’t until someone like Akashi or even Kuroo pointed it out to the pair of you that you smelled different did you actually invigate the root cause of the change.

★ He very rarely gets into a protective mode, but when he does it’s almost like a switch and it would need a trigger to do so. If another male tried to get close to you, he would wrap his arms around you, bringing you to his chest, leaning over you and without even realising it he would be growling and warning the other guy to back off, showing off his muscles on his arms and making sure you knew your place under him and the other male to run off in fear for a serious beat down.

★ Oh and the gif I used? Yeah be ready to be dicked down because he has you in his sights and he’s not about to let you get away off the hook for just being there. He always wants you but will only back off if you say so, you are his priority after all.

Ushijima Wakatoushi;

★ You didn’t know this big bad Alpha had a thing for you until another alpha tried to make their move on you. You had been invited to the gym for one reason or another by him almost constantly and before you knew it Ushijima was standing behind you, a hand on your head with a seriously deadly look ((Like in the gif)) and warned the other.

“Do not touch them, they are mine, if you try to continue this fruitless endeavor you will have me to answer to”

★ And that’s how you got together. You were in shock at his claim to you but only questioned him about you, and he only replied that he was sure you knew. That’s why he always invited you. He was interested in you and wanted to get to know you but practice took up so much of his time, he wanted to make sure he could at least be in the same room as you and when he had moments to talk to you whenever he could.

★ His scent would smell of something like cider I would imagine. There’s this one brand that is cider made of Strawberries and lime. Like that. It’s strong but sweet and once you had a taste of it you couldn’t help but crave more.

★ He made sure that you always had at least one of his jumpers on hand to wear and cover you in his scent as a sign of claiming rather that some kind of physical mark on your skin like a hickey or something.

★ When it came to knotting you for the first time, it would be something he would have discussed with you. He wasn’t shy about it because he knew it was a normal body reaction but made sure that it was something that you wanted too.

★ When the news about you getting together with him got around everyone knew not to mess with you because not only in fear for Ushijima doing something but you weren’t push over to begin with. You were a couple not to be messed with and his strength only increased in the drive to protect you.

★ If you were ever to have kids with this tall ass man, he would know right away. You would want to surprise him but there’s no surprising this stoic know-it-all. He would be the one to instantly start buying what you needed and would be the one to surprise you.

★ If he was in rut he would just come out and say it. He would either tell you in text or in a call warning where he was and what he was doing. What he was thinking about and what he would do to you. Though wouldn’t force you to be with him if you didn’t feel up to it but would for sure be grateful if you helped him out.

★ Although he wasn’t one to be really talkative, in his rut he would be the type of guy to grunt, and pant heavily quickly whispering praise of you and how well you were taking him. He knew he wasn’t small and compared to him, he knew he could be over the top or too much and it just amazed him how well your body adapted to him, and was made to be under him.

★ You thought he was protective when he claimed you? If you were carrying his children he would be 10000x worse. He would be that silent hovering shadow that you could never get rid of, but would leave you wanting for nothing. Feet hurts? Massage whenever he could. Feeling down? Cuddles cuddles cuddles and talks of how beautiful you are, how you smell like him and how crazy you drive him but this would only happen in private, publicly he would only try and keep things cool.

Sugawara Koushi;

★ This man wouldn’t truly feel comfortable as an Alpha till he meets you. Unlike Ushijima he was naturally born to be more like a beta but his reproductive organs proved he was an Alpha and always felt like he wasn’t a good fit for the role.

★ You brought out a side of him he never knew he had. His face rarely got serious or angry but it was common to see him like that when other Alphas tried to take you away from him. He often had to compete with others for your attention though his school years but he didn’t care truely. He would do anything to have you and if that meant losing a few teeth he happily would to keep you no matter what.

★ Although he was the alpha, the first time he would knot you would be when you would go into a heat and although you had consented before hand, he never actually did as he was the one waiting for the first time you went into heat with him.

★ His scent would be something like a fresh air breeze on the ocean. Something light and airy which would be another reason why he wouldn’t feel comfortable as an alpha. His scent just wasn’t suited at all but you comforted him saying that everyone was different and most alphas’s scents were too harsh which is why you loved him. It didn’t attack your nose unlike some others would.

★ He was more of a cunning Alpha using his words rather than his fists to try and settle arguments. He’s the type of alpha to have a worse bark than a bite. His words would be sharp and hit exactly where it hurt without even needing to raise a fist.

★ If you were to fall pregnant neither of you both would notice. It would take either some very clear signs like your stomach growing or a third party member noticing something about you before it would be confirmed that you both would be parents but you both couldn’t be more happy to become a bigger family.

★ He would for sure be the kind of Alpha male that would make sure you have everything needed for your nest, when you did decide to mate with him. He would get you anything you wanted and wouldn’t complain about having so much stuff in the bedroom. He would even help you set it up making sure it was perfect for the pair of you not wanting you to be even a little bit uncomfortable for when the time came.

★ As a sign of possession he would make sure that there was a few visible marks on your skin as well as something of his on your body, most likely something small like a necklace or even a promise ring as he would be one for wanting to make memories with things than something that could fade away.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #headcanons #bokuto katruo #bokuto x reader #sugawara koushi #hq sugawara #sugawara #sugawara x reader #x reader #reader insert #ushijima #hq ushijima #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #omega #omega verse #alpha

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foodieforthoughts · 3 years

Text

Deep in Love

Summary: It's been too long since Chris has been away. When his flight gets delayed, she's sad. But wakes up to Chris ready to take her breath away.

Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: 18+ content, bodily fluids, oral (female receiving), sexual Intercourse, unprotected sex

A/N: I had to give some loving to my other muse, Mr. Evans. First ever smut and I would like to start with him because he has been the object of my fantasies for more than a decade.

Title: Deep in Love

Chris hated it when I watch his interviews online. He said he only acts the way the public wants him to be like, a little naughty for PR, a little held down to not come off as uncivilized or too out spoken.

To some extent I agreed. Chris was the human equivalent of a teddy bear, soft and cuddly and his intellect was beyond what could be projected through the camera. Chris was more than just a face and I was lucky to see him for who he really was.

Waking up to his sleep ladden eyes, heavy voice with tousled hair was the best sight for me. But I would never lie that seeing him on screen, all primped and dashing, got me craving for him even more.

Especially when he had been away for months on end and Skype calls could only satisfy me so much.

This particular one that I had stumbled on YouTube, a photoshoot interview that featured him answering the same old questions about his life. He always complained he was so tired of repeating the same things, but it was all part of the job eventually. He looked breathtakingly handsome in this one, the photographer had done a fantastic job.

Chris looked the best with his beard-a personal preferance for him and me alike. It was trimmed neatly, his hair slicked back and the beige and brown outfit complimenting him so well. Hearing his voice, that laugh, it just made me miss him more.

Dodger whined from his place on the adjacent couch. Chris's voice from the speakers seemed to have grabbed his attention too.

"Yeah, buddy. I know. I miss him too." I cooed at him.

My phone rang besides me, a video call from the man himself.

"Hi, babe."

How was it possible to be feeling mushy by your boyfriend's voice even after being together for three years?

"Tell me you are reaching home soon." I went to sit near Dodger, ruffling his fur while I spoke to Chris.

He scratched the back of his neck. "Actually, my flight got delayed because of the weather."

I frowned. I had been so excited for him to finally be with me, even prepared his favourite lasagna and bought his favourite wine. I was hoping that he would make in time for lunch and then we could cuddle in the bed while he slept his jet-lag off.

"Hey," he called out. His eyes soft and apologetic. "I'll be home today, don't you worry. Okay?"

I was afraid if he didn't come home tonight, I might forget what it felt like to be buried in his chest, his arms holding me tight. His scent was already close to a faded memory, no matter how hard I tried to remember it.

"I miss you so much." I sounded a bit whiny there, but I really did miss him a lot.

"I miss you too, baby. I can't wait to kiss you till you become breathless." He said in a sing-song voice, trying to make me laugh.

I did chuckle but the thought of being kissed by Chris untill my lungs gave out felt so hot. As my thoughts began drifting to activities that usually followed our out-of-breath kissing, my cheeks heated up and wetness began forming down south.

Dodger decided to bark at the moment, all the way near the door.

"Oh, someone wants to go pee-pee." Chris chuckled and shook his head.

I was thankful that Chris took no notice of my blush because I wasn't sure if I could handle it if he had decided to tease me with some descriptive imagery of our love making. I glanced at our pooch staring at me with expectant eyes to let him out.

"Wait, I'll just let him out-"

"Actually, I'll call you back. Someone is at the door, probably an update. If I'm late, babe, don't wait up okay? I'll kiss you good morning tomorrow."

I nodded and he was gone. I really didn't want to miss giving him a welcome hug when he came home. I didn't want a good morning kiss, I wanted a good night loving.

"Looks like we'll have to wait a little longer for your dad, Bubba." I told Dodger before letting him out.

***

I had no clue what time it was. When I opened my eyes, our bedroom lights were on, music playing from my ear buds, and a warm presence behind me.

Thought about not locking the door securely, or leaving a window open, giving access to a murderous intruder flooded my mind. I turned so quickly to look at the presence, I had to blink several times from the head rush.

My heart was racing from the fear, but it wasn't an intruder's sinister eyes that met mine. The man with soft, blue green eyes with a tired smile on his face looked back at me.

"Chris?" I sat up instantly, giving myself another head rush. But this was incredulous. I really hoped I wasn't dreaming. "Are you really here?" I stupidly asked.

His chest rumbled with his chuckle, him sitting up too. His face so close to mine, his breath washed over my face. A wide smile spread over my face and I threw my arms around him.

He welcomed me and held me tightly against his chest. Oh, how much had I missed the physical contact between us. He felt so warm, so strong, it made my heart flutter. I took a deep breath, the faint scent of his cologne and soap lingering, enveloping me entirely.

Chris pulled back his face, making me look at him. He placed a gentle hand behind my head and slowly placed a kiss on my lips.

I swear I was about to melt. He pulled me closer with his arm, I was almost straddling him now. Our bodies were flushed together, my arms still around his neck.

His beard scuffed against my face, as his lips moved with mine in perfect synchronization.

I had imagined this moment various times in the past months, about our reunion. It always hurt me when he left but whenever he came back, it felt surreal. I could feel the intensity of our kiss deepen with his tongue beginning to move with mine. Warmth spread from my cheeks, to my chest and settled as a heat pooled between my thighs as I tasted his sweet cavern.

I moaned as I felt his erection beginning to strain against his pants, nudging my thigh through the clothes.

The desperation to feel our bodies close, sans the obstructive fabric of our clothes, was so urgent that we nearly tore them off of our bodies. Chris laid me down on the bed, placing himself in between my legs. His cock was hard and ready and my core wet and dripping for him.

But instead, Chris decided to travel down my body. He gently grabbed a hold of my breasts, kneading them and placing kisses all over. My back arched as he took a hardened nipple in his mouth and sucked at it.

I held onto his arms, feeling the tautness of his muscles underneath my touch. I moaned when one of his hands travelled down my body and teased me at my entrance.

"Baby you are so wet. You really did miss me a lot, huh?" He smirked against my breast, his eyes dark and lustful. He placed kisses over my body, goosebumps appearing on my skin, making his way even further down.

I shuddered when he reached in between my thighs, his warm breath against my quivering folds. I let out a shaky breath when he looked at me, his dark eyes lined by his long lashes.

"Oh..." I moaned as he flicked his tongue over my swollen nub. I felt his fingers rubbing at my entrance before he slid one digit in and took my clit in his mouth.

I moaned out his name like a prayer, my hands reaching out and grasping at his head. His soft hair clutched in mine while he performed his ministrations on me.

The heat pooled at the bottom of my belly. He sucked and licked and flicked his tongue over me, another finger joining the first one. I was so immensely starved of his touch, that it did not even take long for me to come against his mouth. My thighs shuddered, my body felt hot and my panting breaths were the only thing audible in the room.

Chris lapped at my juices like it was nectar. He climbed back on top of me, not giving me a moment to relax. He licked his lips while lining his cock against my entrance.

The sound that escaped his lips when he entered the tip of his penis inside me was so erotic. My insides stretched to accommodate him, feeling him bury deep in me.

"Fuck, babe. You feel so tight." He said with a moan when he was fully within.

I finally felt one with him, joined at our bodies, competing each other. He leaned down, lifting my legs to wrap around his waist and kissed me deeply. I could still taste myself on his lips, feel him pulsating inside me. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pulled out and trusted back inside.

My hips met his thrusts with groans excaping from our lips. The room suddenly was beginning to feel warm, our bodies beginning to sweat. He wound his arms around my waist while I encircled his neck, pulling him down for another kiss. The familiar knotting was beginning to deep within me as Chris hit my sweet spot with each thrust, like he had done a hundred times before.

The time away from each other must have been difficult for both of us, because like me, Chris didn't last long either. Together we came, him shuddering above me with a curse, filling me up. I buried my head in the crook of his neck, digging my nails in his skin, as his final thrusts pushed me over the edge once again.

In a heap of sweaty limbs, we both laid, spent and undone. Chris took deep labored breaths, his head on the pillow besides me. My heart was pounding in my chest as I felt Chris begin to go soft inside me.

"Hell of a reunion, wasn't it?" I managed to speak.

He climbed off of me and laid on his side. His breaths still coming in short but a content smile on his face.

"Told you I'll kiss you good morning." He pulled me over to him, my head resting against his chest. His heart was racing still, I could hear it thumping underneath. He rubbed my arm as his eyes began to close, tiredness getting to him. "Take a nap, babe. We'll need the energy for round two."

I smiled against his chest, hearing him snore and drifting into slumber.

#Chris Evans #Chris Evans fanfic #Chris Evans smut #Chris Evans fluff #Soft Evans

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aitarose · 3 years

Note

May i please have some Osamu and reader on spending their day at home just making out maybe?

KITCHEN BITS (O. MIYA) pairing: miya osamu x fem!reader

synopsis: routine meal preparations with the so-called master chef, osamu miya—and a little bit of kitchen shenanigans.

word count: 1.3k

genre: time skip, established relationship, fluff

warnings: suggestive, cursing

notes: this is literally just them making out and being thirsty which is fair

↳ DIRECTORY

The pleasant mouth-watering aroma of Osamu’s nationally famed onigiri steamed above the kitchen stove. The scent was perfection to the nose, a smell that would have any normal person hypnotized in the direction of his local restaurant.

His recipes were delicious, somewhat of a delicacy that even Atsumu held to godly standards—standards that his twin brother always seemed to be able to meet. Standards that were nothing but small roadblocks in his drive to success.

Some would say that food was the way to a man’s heart, the physical gift being the greatest thing anyone could ever receive—but in his eyes, there was no need for presentation and delicacies to win his love.

As his love had already been won, it’d been won by her.

“What’re you up to?” She asked, arms snaking around his waist, face pressed against his backside as she admired the concentration he held while immersed in the ingredients in front of him. The smell was divine, that of his signature dish.

“Finishing dinner.” Osamu replied, holding a wooden spoon out to her, passing it as if to say that she was now his sous chef. Taking control of the utensil, Y/N maneuvered to see the beautiful food, feeling a deep hunger rumble in her stomach.

It was a daily thing, cooking together, being in each other’s company for as long as they possibly could after the long hours of their respective work days. He was her favorite sight to come home to—the gentle look in his eyes, puckered lips, and strong stature.

Yes, she was hungry—but her hunger wasn’t thinking of food.

He seemed to be thinking the same thing, staring at her rather than the inflamed gas stove, the fire in his eyes matching the hue of the flame—burning and passionate.

By some invisible force, they stepped towards each other in synchrony, bodies colliding as Osamu’s hands buried themselves in her hair, tangling the already messy locks into knots and weeds. His grip was tight, grounding the both of them, making sure their minds were still touching the ground.

His kisses were fervent, desperate and needy as her mouth danced against his, biting his lower lip in an attempt to deepen their connection—the wooden spoon in her left hand dropping to the ground with a hollow thud, whilst her palms held his face, pulling him closer.

“‘Samu.” She whispered against him, feeling his breath on her nose. Her heart was pounding fast, a million beats a minute as her chest began to heave, heavy breathing and all. “‘Samu, the food.”

Ignoring her concerns, he craned his neck down, peppering her neck with sparse kisses, sucking on her skin and creating waning spots of shadows. Closing her eyes, she let him continue, too distracted by the feeling of being in his arms to care about anything else.

They were addicted to the taste of each other, having a physical hunger that could only be satisfied through acts of love—acts of love that stemmed from their emotional connection. The kind of connection that could never be broken.

There was no one else quite like Osamu. Out of all of her relationships, there’d not been a single person that had ever been able to make her feel the way he did. How he pleased her needs and listened to her wants, following the steps of her unspoken recipe, never missing a beat.

As his lips trailed upwards, stopping at her chin and lingering, his lust-filled eyes meeting hers, she felt time stop. All that mattered was him, all that ever mattered was him and what he needed at that very moment, in that very second.

Wordlessly, they communicated through longing glances, foreheads pressed together, her lips nipping at his. She jumped up knowing that his arms would catch her, that he was always going to be the safety net to pick her up as she fell.

His hands held her tight, gripping her thighs and adjusting her weight to a comfortable hold. As her legs wrapped around his waist, clinging to his body like it was a support beam, her face leant down to meet his once more, his silver locks mixing with her own.

She’d never grow tired of the way his mouth moved with hers. The way he grabbed at her throat, large palm encircling her vocal chords, guiding her jaw towards his and passionately connecting their lips in repetition. He was the customer, and she was his four-course meal.

Gasping between kisses, she delved deeper, her already bruised lips fighting for control as she reached down, taking a hold of the bottom of his wine stained tee and yanked it to the ceiling—laughing as it flew across the room and into the sink’s dish water.

“Well, that’s one way to clean it.” She giggled, arms latched around his neck, hands rubbing the bare skin of his back. He really was the prettiest sight in the world, toned chest and tousled hair—not even a model could fare in comparison to his beauty.

Shaking his head in amusement, Osamu hoisted her up higher, her neck now having to crane down to meet his lips. “Yer ridiculous.” He more or less groaned between kisses, being fully consumed by her insatiable hunger, craving for more and more of her—wanting as much as he could get.

The world seemed hazy, a hallucination that only existed when they were the main characters—a mirage that came to life due to their passion and the overwhelming love that they felt. The overwhelming love that they’d communicate through stolen kisses and endless hours in bed.

“Gonna pay for that.” He mumbled, nodding at his soaked shirt that’d been abandoned amongst the dirty dishes, cringing as it sank beneath the tinted water’s depths. Though his eyes were distracted, his body was attending to her, reacting to the way she was leaving her own marks along his neck.

With a seductive look on her face, eyelids heavy and full of lust, she neared his ear. He felt his breath catch, an unexpected moan leaving his lips as she nipped his skin, whispering the one thing he’d been waiting for her to say—insinuating what he’d been getting at all along.

“Then make me pay.”

It was as if a switch had been flipped in Osamu’s brain, his muscles working overtime as his longings devoured her. The sound of her light squeal in surprise drove him further off the rails, igniting the flame in him that eternally burned for her and only her.

As their mouths molded together, familiarizing themselves with the already familiar taste of one another, he blindly made his way to what he assumed was the kitchen island, eyes closed in blindness to his endless love.

He set her down quickly, arms maneuvering around her in order to keep her attention, not noticing how he’d gone in the exact opposite direction that he’d meant to. Rather away from the divider and towards the bright and hot stove.

“Fuck!” She yelped, falling off of the counter and onto the floor, holding her bottom like her life depended on it. Her expression had evolved from pure ecstasy to an overload of red, hot pain.

Panic on his mind, Osamu kneeled down at eye level to her, and tried to think of any way to make her feel better—a way to apologize for his somewhat laughable mistake. Taking her palms in his, pressing kisses to the tops and closing them around his own, she seemed to relax for a moment.

“Let me draw you a bath?” He asked, hoping that the serene water and soaps would relieve her nerves of their stress, relax her into an easy slumber. An easy slumber that wouldn’t involve him getting his ass slandered when she’d awake—when she’d awake and immediately tell Atsumu all about it.

Pushing his shoulder back lightly and hanging off the side of the counter in an attempt to stand up, Y/N shook her head, finding the situation all the more hilarious. “I’ll draw myself my own bath, ‘Samu.”

“And you’re going to stay here and finish dinner—for real this time.”

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ellitx · 3 years

Note

Oooh~~ butler Himmel got the gears turning~~

How about a bath time with Himmel scenario (boutta make a blog called whoring for himmel, I feel bad clogging up your inbox just lemme know if its annoying oki? ;w; )

The day was sweltering hot ,whilst enjoying your daily walk on the royal grounds the sweat dripping off your back and brow was getting a bit too much to bear, even your thighs were starting to sick together where stockings didnt cover.

"Mistress are you alright? Would you like to go in for the afternoon and freshen up?" Always so attentive and kind your sweet butler is as he gently took his handkerchief and wiped your brow "Y-yes that would be wonderful, thank you" you say with lightly panting while fanning your face with your hand trying to hide the blush that was forming

Stepping into your much cooler quarters you heaved a heavy sigh of relief as you plop down into one of your chairs with Himmel following you in to make sure you're alright since venti was busy with other matters he had you for the day to himself. "Are you alright, My dearest? Is anything I may get you or help you with..?"

With all your clothing stuck to you, you could help but think "A nice bath and a change of clothes would be most delightful" and looking down with a blush knowing there was a heat only he could cool "I might need a bit of help.. I cant reach a few things.." you face beginning to burn " Help me undress..?"

A small flinch went through his body as a blush began to tinge at the tips of his ears "O-ofcourse..! Not a problem at all Mistress!" A small lie slipped his lips knowing that there was indeed a problem, him craving his dearest like mad, with him slowly removeing each article of your until much of you was exposed skin glistening, leaving nothing but intricate garments, beautiful lace gaterbelt with matching panties that dug slightly into your soft form with a complimentary bra.

"Venti had surely dressed her this morning this is much too.. too erotic for our sweet maiden.." he though to himself but he couldn't help but take in your beauty for a moment. "Alright wait here, Ill start your bath for you" he spoke trying to keep his composure through his excitement but as he walked towards your bathroom he heard soft footsteps. "Sir.. I want to acommany you.. you look quite hot yourself.. would you like to join me, I want to help take care of you since you work so hard.."

He inhales sharply at your request " would it really be alright, what if we were cought, surely if it was of her request it shouldn't be a problem" he thought again be he cant stop his mind from wandering to more inappropriate matters "A-As you wish, my dearest" holding the door open for you step inside as he pulls off he coat and gloves laying them on the marble counter.

He drinks in your ethereal form as he draws the water making sure it to your liking with dd a touch of lavender scented soap to help you both relax. "Are you sure about this my dearest.." he asked softly locking eyes with those gorgeous e/c orbs. You nervously compose your naked form undressing moments before while his back was turned "Yes.. you need some time for yourself too.. just Venti may not be too happy if he hears.. I just want to take care of you for once.." you plead crossing one arm around your breast and the other to grab his hand you pull him in for a sweet kiss.. " Dont make me wait to long~" you tease as you drop down into the tub perfectly warm and soothing

God your lips were intoxicating, nodding he turns to undess himself fully.. "N-now mistress, may you keep your eyes closed un till I tell you..?" He was really embarrassed about not only having his angel see all of him, but him already being half hard. He slowly guides you forward and positions himself behind you hoping you wont notice "Alright my dearest you can open them now.." he sighed into your shoulder while gently placing his around you " Dont be shy.. sir Im also quite heated" you whisper as you turn to face and straddle him

Oh god feeling your thighs brush against him lit aflame and with your bear wet chest leaning up against his he feels like he could combust any moment "Y-y/n.. my beloved do you really want to-" "Shhh" you hush his worries with a heated loving kiss slowly he let himself go, opening his mouth to let his tongue swirl with yours. Almost instinctually starts grinding into you with his cock brushing againt your slick folds.

"Mm..! Sir.. more..!" The way you said sir sent electricity through him he never thought he love it the way he did "My songbird.. I am here to please Aahh.. All of your commands and desires.." he moaned while while letting his hands slide up and down your plush thighs under the water being careful not to make a mess

" Then just relax Himmel..~" you cood as you raised yourself over his hardened member, wide-eyed and red faced he held your hips to position your self and slowly guiding you down onto him both moaning in unison you rested on him, just laying your head on his shoulders rubbing them to try to ease all of his tensions while you bask in the full feeling of your core

"Aa... Y/N you really are such.. nng.. an angel so sweet.. so beautiful.. to think I have been blessed with you.." He couldn't help be feel so loved by you and himself sit with the warmth of you around him.. "H-Himmel Ahhh~ I want to please you too.." He feels so torn one side wants to keep you still and feel your wet warmth all around him but the other wants to rut up into you bringing you both bliss "M-misstress.. Ahh!"

Your sudden bounces cought him of guard "Im sorry sir I- Ahh.. I cant help it..!!" He grips your hips tighter helping you to move on him whilst water sloshes about "Oh.. god my sweet... Its so good!! More..!" He shakily breathes out the coil building the more you go, wanting to come undone as you clench down around him and with your hands on his shoulders trying not to slip "Yes..! Right there..! I dont know how much longer i can h-hold it..!

"Dont my songbird..! Let it go spill onto me..!! And that you did leaking everything you had onto with you clenching onto him he swiftly pulls out and finishes into the tub "mmm..!" He moans looking away shyly.

You curl up onto his chest and playfully whipser " looks like the day got even hotter huh~"

( oops this got long im sorry sjdjdj -💚)

ANON YOURE FEEDING ME WITH THESE HIMMEL CONTENTS AND I LOVE YOU FOR DOING THIS FEED ME MORE PLS IM HUNGRY, IM THIRSTY FOR HIMMEL

I. NEED. MORE. HIMMEL >:((

And you also included one of his kinks of shower sex!? I mean it’s not really shower but yeah he’s into those taking a bath with his darling ;3c

And that sir 👀 i have a headcanon where himmel has the position of the student council president and he sometimes stays late to finish all the paperworks and his darling often visits him to check on how he’s doing.

Wink wonk we know where this is going ♪(´ε｀ ) himmel, stressed, desk sex—

#anon ask #💚 anon #ellianswers #submission #venti brainrot #himmel #himmel x reader

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tothemeadow · 3 years

Text

Commissioned by @hinokami-s

Art originally done by @/n2514 on twitter

Kamado Tanjiro x OC

- It's been too long since Tanjiro and Hayami have seen each other. Tanjiro knows he's a fool in love, but there might be chance that Hayami feels the same. Together, they're meant to bring down a powerful demon with a Blood Art that neither one has seen before - the catch? It's an aphrodisiac. -

warnings: NSFW, mentions of blood and violence, oral sex, a sprinkling of praise kink, a dash of breeding kink, a good dose of creampie

words: 7.4k

Breathe in, breathe out. Focus, Tanjiro, focus.

Swinging his blade gracefully, Tanjiro pivots on his heel to follow up on the frontal attack with a jab of his elbow. The demon grunts as it’s knocked backwards, stumbling to catch its footing. Hissing out yet another curse, it surges toward the man, sharp claws splayed out. Tanjiro easily sidesteps it, bringing his blade in front of him in a defensive stance. Again, the demon tries to strike at him, only to get deflected.

“Damn human,” the demon spits, “stand still so I can rip your guts out!”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that!” Tanjiro exclaims. “You’ve taken enough lives already – I refuse to let you take any more!”

Again, the both of them brace themselves for yet another attack; simultaneously, they leap at each other, blade and claws extending out in deadly arcs. Tanjiro grits his teeth as the claws make a pass at his shoulder, ripping through the layers of his haori and uniform and tearing into the muscle. Still, he pushes forward, cleanly bringing his blade through the demon’s neck and successfully decapitating it. A cloud of dust rises as they both unceremoniously land on the ground; the demon crumbles away instantly, leaving Tanjiro by his lonesome.

Finally.

Rolling his shoulders, Tanjiro slips his blade back into his sheath and drags a forearm over his forehead, wiping away the sweat. A sizzling heat roaring in his shoulder draws his attention; glancing at his shoulder, he’s met with the wicked sight of shredded fabrics and torn flesh. Blood steadily pours from the wound, soaking his clothes a dark red. With a sigh, Tanjiro presses a flat palm to the wound and glances toward the sky. Fortunately, bits of light break through the canopy of the forest. He shouldn’t stick around for long, though – not if he wants to fight even more demons.

Taking a step forward, he suddenly stumbles and lands on his knees. “What the-“ he begins, but he cuts himself off at the spark of pain located in his ankle. Oh, this is just wonderful. Taking a deep breath, he steadies himself on his hands and forces himself to a stand, leaning his weight on the opposite foot. There’s no other option than to hobble towards a Wisteria House; luckily, he passed by one earlier, so it shouldn’t take too long for him to arrive.

As long as he can make it back before night falls, he should be in the clear.

“A letter, yes! A letter!”

Looking to the window, Tanjiro’s greeted by his Kasugai crow. Its beady eyes stay focused on him while it hops from side to side; Tanjiro’s interest piques as he notices the little scroll of paper tied to its foot. An easy smile spreads across his face as he hobbles to the window. The letter had to be from his friend Sumiyuri Hayami – it had to be! The two usually communicate via letters sent by their crows since they’re busy dealing with their own missions to visit each other. Still, no matter how many letters he’s received, that same gentle warmth encases his heart as he slips the bit of twine off the crow’s foot.

Tanjiro’s blood practically pounds in his ears as he unravels the letter, unconsciously holding his breath while his eyes scan over Hayami’s neat handwriting.

Tanjiro,

I hope this letter finds you in good health.

Tanjiro pauses, smiles sheepishly.

It’s a lonely journey, the letter continues, traveling without someone. I don’t mind the quiet, but you know how much I dislike being alone. Even my crow won’t keep me company, won’t you believe that?

I miss you, Tanjiro. I can’t wait to see you again.

Forever and always,

Hayami

The bottom of the letter is covered with multiple doodles of cherry blossoms, one of Hayami’s favorite types of flowers. She always ends her letter the exact same way, and it never fails to bring Tanjiro a sense of comfort. But “I miss you”? “I can’t wait to see you again”?

That’s new.

Tanjiro can’t help the blush that spreads across his cheeks, nor can he control the rapid beating of his heart. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t have special feelings for the girl; for so long, he’s been pining after her, craving to hold her hand and kiss her sweetly. He’s such a coward, though. Time after time, the confession sat on the tip of his tongue, ready to tumble from his lips at the simplest command, but he couldn’t do it. It always felt like it wasn’t the right time to tell her his feelings, especially with how the world is.

But oh, knowing that she’s thinking of him – that she misses him – makes his heart soar. He can’t tear his eyes away from the small piece of paper, attention fixated on those two little sentences. “Oh, Hayami,” he breathes, looking away and willing his heartbeat to slow down. His crow merely cocks its head at him.

“Well?” it caws, fluttering its wings expectantly. “Return letter, yes?”

That’s right.

Hobbling over to the desk in the room, Tanjiro reaches for the inkwell and brush and carefully constructs his own letter, a dreamy smile plastered on his face.

Hayami,

I can’t wait to see you, too.

Tanjiro

Again, he crosses to wear the crow sits on the windowsill, rolling up his paper and hastily tying it around its foot. “Thank you, my friend,” he tells the crow, giving it a gentle pat on the head. With a singular squawk, the crow takes off; Tanjiro watches long after it’s turned into a black dot in the sky before turning away from the window. He truly hopes he can be graced by Hayami’s presence sometime soon. He misses her dearly, and the fact that she feels the same way makes him giggle into a hand.

What can he say? He’s in love.

Perhaps the gods are watching over him more closely than he thinks. Maybe he’s just lucky. Either way, Tanjiro is truly blessed whenever the sliding door to his room opens, revealing a familiar face. It’s a face that visits both daydreams and regular dreams alike; a masterpiece, truly, carved straight from ivory and inlaid with purple gems for eyes. Tanjiro almost can’t believe it.

“Hayami?” he breathes.

A gorgeous smile cracks her face. “Tanjiro.”

By the gods, it really is her.

Before he can even register it, he’s shooting up from his futon, hurrying to where she stands, and flinging his arms around her in a hug. His heart beats impossibly hard in his chest and his face flushes with warmth, but gods he’s really, really missed her. At first, Hayami stiffens in surprise, but it quickly melts away and there she goes, mimicking his movements and hugging him back.

When they were younger, Hayami used to be outright massive in height; Tanjiro has never been bothered by the fact (instead, he’s always found it as a part of her charm), but now… Now it’s different. Even in her infamous heeled boots, she’s still a few centimeters shorter than he. Tanjiro can see the crown of her head with ease. Has he always been this tall? Has he grown since the last time they’ve met? Peering downwards, his breath catches in his throat.

Like Mitsuri, Hayami always opted for the open-chested gakuran; and, just like Mitsuri, she’s also well endowed. Tearing his gaze away, Tanjiro pushes away the sudden spike of warmth swirling in the depths of his stomach. After all this time of being apart, their first interaction can’t be with him acting inappropriate! Besides, it’s always been more of Zenitsu’s thing to openly ogle at women, not Tanjiro’s.

A hand cups his face, forces him to look back down. “I’ve really missed you,” Hayami whispers. Her smile is pure saccharine, so delightfully wonderful and sweet. The urge to kiss her is strong, Tanjiro quickly realizes. He can’t scare her away, no, not now. But it’d just be so easy to let his feelings loose, to tell her everything she deserves to hear.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Tanjiro flashes her a smile in return. She’s so soft in his arms and smells like lavender soap. It’s incredible to know that someone of this ethereal beauty exists, much less to be friends with them. Perhaps he’s being too sentimental – romantic, maybe even poetic – but he honestly cannot get enough of her.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he says.

A pang of longing strikes his heart whenever Hayami pulls away. “I got your letter. I thought it was kind of odd, though – you’re usually not one for short messages, Tanjiro. I was worried that something happened.”

Yeah, he thinks, I nearly had a heart attack on the spot.

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He looks at her, truly looks, and it’s only then that he realizes she has light scratches on her face and a bandage wrapped around a strong thigh. Blinking owlishly, he has to recall that they’re in a Wisteria House of all places, not at some random inn or anything of the sort. A shameful blush spreads across his features. How foolish could he be not to notice her injuries right away?

“You’re hurt!” he exclaims, brows furrowing. “What happened?”

At that, Hayami merely waves a dismissive hand. It’s enough for him to want to be pissed off, but again, he knows her all too well. Hayami’s always been the type to place others before herself, always striving to become even stronger to protect everyone she cares about. It’s this ideology that’s led her to become a somewhat reckless person on almost all accounts; however, Tanjiro knows she’s a formidable opponent. He simply wishes she would take care of herself every once in a while.

“I could ask you the same,” she shoots back, gesturing to his heavily bandaged shoulder. “Tanjiro, I really wish you would be more careful. What if… What if something worse happened? What if you didn’t make it to a Wisteria House in time?”

Tanjiro rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m really sorry to make you worry, Hayami. I really am. It’s just… Things can get out of hand sometimes, you know? But I defeated the demon, so don’t worry! As long as I can continue to help others out, I’ll take as many hits as it takes.”

Hayami sighs. The both of them know how serious he is about dealing with demons; each little step is necessary to reach Muzan Kibutsuji, to finally put an end to his reign of terror and find a cure for his younger sister, Nezuko. He and Hayami are truly two of a kind, hopelessly selfless and always willing to help others even if it means disaster for themselves.

“Well,” Hayami starts, reaching out and clutching one of Tanjiro’s hands in both of hers, “promise me you’ll stay alive. Do it for Nezuko. Do it for me.” A pleading glint shines in the depths of her eyes. “Promise me, Tanjiro.”

At this rate, Tanjiro’s heart will burst. It swells to a near impossible size, thrumming against his ribcage and begging to be free. He doesn’t know how she does it, doesn’t know how she can be so lovely, yet here they are, hands intertwined and almost too close for comfort. If Tanjiro didn’t know any better, he’d say Hayami is purposefully trying to get a rise from him, possibly make him a melted mess on the tatami flooring.

Again, he swallows thickly. Clasping onto her hands tightly, he nods his head. “I promise.”

Things have been going… odd.

While it isn’t out of the ordinary to catch up and swap stories after being apart for so long, Tanjiro’s quickly come to notice that every time he turns around, Hayami is usually within sight. He can’t say much, though, since he’s been dealing the same treatment to her. The two have practically grown attached to the hip, nearly fawning over each other, and doing everything together.

Tanjiro can’t complain; he secretly adores the attention Hayami showers upon him, the cooing she does when she brushes his hair, or the delightful gleam in her eyes. Being in her presence is enough to have his entire being flood with warmth, to have his heart beat wildly in his chest.

Even now, in the dwindling hours of twilight, the two are cozy in Hayami’s room, surrounded by flickering lanterns. Hayami has personally taken it upon herself to mend Tanjiro’s beloved haori, to fix the dreadful hole left behind that slashing demon. Tanjiro merely watches on, relaxing on his side with his head propped in a hand. He watches as Hayami works every so diligently, her lovely features set in a focused look. Granted, he’s always thought of her as beautiful. She reminds him of the maidens in the stories his mother used to read to him when he was younger, ever so graceful and good natured.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been watching her. Minutes, hours, maybe days – it feels like his eyes haven’t seen her in an eternity, and he’s almost desperate to soak in the sight of her and commit it to memory.

Although Hayami hasn’t said a thing, her eyes flicker towards Tanjiro every so often. She doesn’t bother to make it a secret, either; Tanjiro swallows thickly, wonders just what exactly is going on inside her head. Like him, her wounds are healing nicely, mostly due to the care given by the members of the Wisteria House. The scratches that adorned her face are gone, leaving behind a canvas of an unblemished, creamy white.

“You’re staring,” Hayami says, still not looking up from her work. Tanjiro flushes at her comment, but he also picks up on the playful lilt to her tone.

“I’m sorry,” he half blubbers, rolling onto his back and focusing on the ceiling to calm his erratic heart. “It’s just… It’s been so long. When’s the next time we’re going to see each other like this again?”

While Tanjiro does have a point, it’s one that neither of them has decided to discuss. The ways of being a slayer can be somewhat picky – not much time can be set aside for leisurely purposes. And, taking in Tanjiro’s mission into account, he has to work harder than anyone else if he wishes to save Nezuko.

“Well,” Hayami speaks up, finally turning fully to Tanjiro. Setting down her needle and thread, she shuffles over to where Tanjiro lies on the floor, hovering in his field of vision. “We should make the most of it, huh?” With a flick of her wrists, a flash of green and black fills Tanjiro’s vision; the haori settles gently on him, the delicate smell of fresh laundry and lavender flooding his nostrils. Oh, by the gods, now his haori smells like her.

“You should consider yourself lucky that they were able to wash the blood out,” Hayami continues on, a slight smile pulling at the corners of her full mouth. “It’d be weird to see you wear anything else.”

“Maybe I’d have to wear yours,” Tanjiro says. It’s out before he says it – his eyes widen as realization dawns on him. He really said that, didn’t he?

For a moment, Hayami’s expression mimics his. She seems just as surprised as he is at the blatant comment – or was it flirting? The initial shock melts into a somewhat panicked version, then, and Tanjiro instantly regrets saying anything at all.

Shit.

Hayami looks away, and Tanjiro swears he can see the beginnings of a blush on her face. Oh.

Oh no.

“Perhaps,” she mutters, taking a strand of long hair and twirling it around her finger. “Purple would look great on you.”

Yeah, Tanjiro thinks, attention honing on her flushed cheeks, and you look great in pink.

The semi awkward behavior continues.

Well, scratch that – this weird, mustered tension continues.

While the two remain attached at the hip like usual, things feel more intimate between them, if that makes any sense. Perhaps it’s Tanjiro overthinking things (which he certainly has a habit of doing), but his heart never stops its hurried beating, nor does the warmth swirling around in his belly seize from making him feel like mush. What’s more, Hayami’s eyes seem to glitter more whenever they’re trained on Tanjiro, and her lips are usually parted, almost like she’s silently asking for a kiss.

Things are usually toned down when they’re in other people’s company – namely Nezuko, whenever she decides to awaken. It’s at very moments like this when the three are taking comfort in each other’s company; hidden in the shade on the engawa, a flower-scented breeze passes through the thin material of their yukatas, yet the mere warmth of the day is enough to keep even the slightest chills away. Nezuko sits before Hayami, legs drawn up to her chest while the latter braids the inky strands of her hair. If anything, the sight of the two of them together makes Tanjiro’s chest swell with joy.

He openly admires Hayami’s profile, at the cute little beauty mark dotted above her lips. At first, Tanjiro would always feel silly whenever he’d catch himself staring. He isn’t outrightly bold like Zenitsu or ignorant like Inosuke, so knowing that his eyes are lingering longer than they should makes him feel slightly uneasy. But now – now he doesn’t care, for Hayami will often times catch his gaze with her own.

Something wonderful is happening between them, Tanjiro knows it, but he just doesn’t know what it is yet.

“A mission for you! A mission for you!” the lone cry of Tanjiro’s Kasugai crow sounds from above.

Tanjiro’s heart plummets to his stomach. No, this can’t be happening. Not yet. He can’t say goodbye to Hayami just yet, not when things are going so well between them.

“Kamado Tanjiro! Sumiyuri Hayami!” the crow squawks, fluttering onto the end of the engawa. “A demon has been spotted in the nearby area! To the East, yes! You two are to take care of it!”

Tanjiro blinks owlishly at his crow. If that’s the case-

Both he and Hayami share a look. The break was nice while it lasted, but now it’s time to suit up.

There’s always been something so sobering about pulling on the slayer uniform. It’s a blatant sign that this day could be your last, that whatever lies ahead could be the very thing that kills you. Still, the thick fabric brings an odd sense of calmness and comfort – that everything will be alright.

“You ready, Nezuko?” Tanjiro asks, turning to his sister.

Nezuko hums her agreement, nodding her head along with it. His heart pangs once his gaze falls on the thick braid hanging down her back. It’s quite possible that that could’ve been the very last time Hayami ever does her hair like that. No, Tanjiro hastily scolds himself, never think like that. Both he and Hayami are strong fighters.

They’re going to make it out of this alive, no matter what.

Nezuko shrinks in size and crawls into her box; Tanjiro shuts the door behind her before heaving it up and slipping his arms through the straps. Once he’s sure she’s properly adjusted on his back, he picks up his blade and steps out of his room, easing the shoji door shut. He’s just in time to see Hayami do the same thing. Their eyes meet automatically, a silent message passing between them.

Be careful.

Tanjiro clears his throat. “Are you ready?”

Smoothing down her haori – yes, that one – Hayami gives a curt nod, her long ponytail bobbing with the movement. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Besides, with the both of us on the same side, this shall be easy, no?” She flashes him a reassuring smile. “It’s like the good old times, Tanjiro. We get to finally travel together again.”

Biting back a smile, Tanjiro resists the urge to giggle like some love-stricken fool. Which, if he’s being entirely honest, he is one, but he also wants to keep some sliver of dignity. “You… do have a point.”

Hayami merely waves a hand. “Of course I do. But Tanjiro,” she pauses, cocks her head, “you should really pull your hair up.”

Instinctively, a calloused hand shoots to his head, rough fingers pawing at the strands. While it’s nothing compared to Hayami’s length, the ends of his hair kiss his collarbones. “You think so?”

“Absolutely. Hang on, I’ll take care of it.”

Before he gets the chance to say anything, Hayami promptly opens the door to her room and disappears from sight. A moment later she returns, although this time with a black ribbon in her hand. If its lustrous sheen has anything to say, Tanjiro knows it’s one of her expensive ones.

“Wait,” he quickly says, eyes widening, “I don’t want to ruin one of your good ribbons-“

“Tanjiro,” Hayami cuts him off, voice soft. “Don’t worry about it. I’m giving this to you. Think of it as a good luck charm or something.” Again, she flashes him a pretty smile and Tanjiro practically melts on the spot.

Without another word, he drops down onto his knees, allowing Hayami to get a better reach for his hair. The heels of her boots clack against the floor as she steps behind him; the familiar scent of lavender fills his nostrils as she gets closer, her fingers running through his hair and combing out any potential knots. He relaxes at the contact – it feels good to have her fingers running through his hair. A sigh passes through his lips as his eyes flutter shut.

Hayami takes her time, carefully smoothing out the strands and gathering Tanjiro’s thick hair in a fist while the other quickly wraps the ribbon around the base of the ponytail. After tying a secure knot, Hayami’s fingers linger on Tanjiro’s head just a bit too long. Clearing her throat, she pulls away, leaving a pang of disappointment to stab Tanjiro in the heart.

“There,” she says, stepping around to his front, “that’s better, yes?”

A hand reaches back and smooths down the ponytail. Tanjiro’s face crinkles as he grins at Hayami. “It’s great.”

After that eventful encounter, the two take off away from the Wisteria House, heading East as the Kasugai crow had instructed them earlier. The sunlight gradually dwindles as they venture further into the forest, the thick canopy throwing a green-hued shadow over everything. It’s a beautiful day outside, the birds chirping and bugs humming as yet another breeze picks up, carrying through the woods and rustling their haoris.

“What kind of demon do you think we’re looking for?” Hayami speaks up. It never fails to take Tanjiro by surprise when her friendly demeanor drops once demons are in the question. It’s almost if she becomes an entirely new person, incredibly strong-willed and cruel; in a sense, it puts Tanjiro in mind of Sanemi.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Tanjiro says earnestly. “Since the two of us were sent after it, I have a feeling that it’s not going to be easy to deal with.”

Maybe Tanjiro should’ve placed a bet on it. Maybe he’s been around the block too many times.

Either way, he was right.

After an hour or so of walking through the woods, the shade drastically darkened as they neared an alcove; a somewhat bitter odor hangs in the air, causing Tanjiro to scrunch his nose. Immediately, he forces himself to a halt, throwing out an arm in front of Hayami to stop her as well.

“There’s something here,” he murmurs.

Both of them place a hand on their blades, eyes scanning the surrounding environment for any sign of movement. The bitter smell grows more prevalent; Tanjiro can tell by the way it seems to pressurize his nose, but even now Hayami’s scrunching her face in discomfort. If only something would make a move-

Snap.

“There,” Hayami breathes. “Breath of the Swan, Seventh Form: Feint!” At her cry, she hurls her blade in the direction of the sound before disappearing in a flash of purple, following through with her attack and keeping out of sight. Leave it to Hayami to rush into battle without analyzing the situation first.

Even so, Tanjiro draws his blade and rushes forward, following the scent to its origin. Curving around the wide trunk of a mighty maple, Tanjiro slants his feet to draw himself to an immediate stop, kicking up dirt and foliage alike. Only a couple meters away stands a demon – the demon they were hunting after.

The beast resembles a woman, although her skin is entirely a light red and four arms sprout from the sockets of her shoulders. She’s huge, easily four or five heads taller than Tanjiro himself. Despite the monstrous qualities, her face is beautiful, lips full and eyes curtained by heavy lashes. Tanjiro finds himself hesitating when she turns to look at him; her eyes are completely white, no trace of an iris or pupil anywhere. Creepy.

“Were you the one who threw this?” the demon demands, her voice commanding yet melodic.

Shifting his gaze to her hand, Tanjiro pales at the sight of Hayami’s blade clutched in a strong fist. Her breathing form didn’t land its hit, he’s quick to realize.

Shit.

“It doesn’t matter,” Tanjiro says, holding out his blade before him. “I’m afraid I can’t let you leave.”

“HYAH!” Hayami’s voice shouts. She emerges from the wall of trees, legs raised high in a lethal kick; the gleam of her bladed heels catches Tanjiro’s eye. The demon turns just in time to have its cheek sliced as Hayami’s feet fly past. Dark red pours from the cut and the demon hisses in pain, white eyes flashing angrily. Hayami gracefully falls into a tumble as she lands, rolling over her shoulder and lessening the impact.

“Hayami,” Tanjiro says urgently, “your blade didn’t land on her.”

Spitting out a curse, Hayami’s glare lands on the very hand clutching onto her blade. “Well, clearly I have to take it back from the damned thing,” she snarls. Tanjiro shudders at her tone – the venom clearly dripping from the words, the icy edge. Hell, her voice is enough to send demons running, and Tanjiro can’t blame them. “Tanjiro,” she shoots, turning her gaze to him, “let’s get rid of this bitch once and for all.”

The demon laughs, a singular had cupping her mouth while the other two brace themselves on her hips. “Oh, pathetic humans, do you really think it’d be that simple?” Reaching out a hand, she curls her fingers salaciously, her black claws wickedly sharp. “It’s been so long since I’ve had any proper fun,” she drawls, using that very hand to clutch her neck. “Do me a favor and take a deep breath.”

Tanjiro grunts as that sharp, bitter smell clogs his nose, fills his lungs. The more he breathes in, the dizzier he feels; a flush erupts on his face, paired along with beads of sweat. What the hell even is this?

“Oops, my bad,” the demon taunts. She makes a show of flinging Hayami’s blade back to her before crouching low, all four arms spread in an offensive stance. “And I’m suddenly feeling very hungry!” she booms. “Come on, come at me with all you got!”

Jaw ticking, Hayami snatches her blade off the ground and wipes the handle off with a look of disgust. “Tanjiro?”

“Already on it.”

Like the flick of a switch, the both of them spring into action, swerving around each other and taking either side of the demon. A deep growl emanates from the demon’s chest; her gaze flickers back and forth between the two as they charge at her, their movements invisible to the human eye – human eye, not demon.

This is a battle between life and death.

Maybe it lasts for seconds, minutes, hours. The constant twisting of bodies, water, and feathers create a hurricane in that small alcove; there’s an endless round of shouting and spitting curses, mixing in with the clang of metal hitting tough skin. And yet, the florally breeze still sweeps through their hair and the birds still sing – because, even where danger lurks, peace can still be found.

The demon howls as Tanjiro promptly slices off an arm, the meaty thud of it hitting the ground seemingly echoing. It disappears in a cloud of dust, leaving behind flattened grass in its shape.

That warm, dizzying feeling never recedes, either. Tanjiro figures it must be for weakening prey or something of the sort; his nose scrunches at the strong scent and he reminds himself to not breathe, but it’s also somewhat hard to do since all slayers’ fighting styles revolve around breathing. How utterly ironic and a pain to deal with.

“You bastard!” the demon screeches, baring her fangs at Tanjiro. “I’ll rip your guts out!” She swings another arm, then, landing a direct hit and sending him flying backwards. Tanjiro grunts as his side collides with the fat trunk of a tree, all wind getting knocked from his lungs.

Tanjiro groans as he forces himself to sit up, a hand clutching his ribs. Shit, he’d be lucky if he didn’t crack a rib again. The wild, howling cry of a beast rips through the air, makes Tanjiro’s blood still in his veins. Through his hazy vision, he sees Hayami successfully bring her blade down on the demon’s neck, slicing through the thick skin and decapitating the damned thing.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Tanjiro leans back against the tree, wincing at the thrum of pain in his side. He continues to watch as Hayami lands on her feet, the demon collapsing onto its stomach and screeching profanities as it disintegrates. Thank the gods, Tanjiro says to himself as he staggers to a stand, hand splayed on the trunk to keep himself steady. He and Hayami made it out alive, but…

Something’s wrong.

His heart drops to his stomach as Hayami falls onto her knees, hunching over and retching. Calling out her name, he hobbles over to where she kneels; immediately, he clamps a hand over his nose, that bitter smell the demon emanated stronger than ever before. It positively reeks where its dead body lied. Tanjiro figures it must have unleashed a huge burst of the odor before it was slain – probably in an attempt to get Hayami to back off, no doubt.

“By the gods,” Tanjiro breathes, dropping to Hayami’s height and holding her hair back, “are you alright? What happened?”

“She released a wave of her Blood Art,” Hayami grunts, dragging the back of her hand across her mouth and grimacing. “I don’t think I’ve ever smelt anything to foul in my life.”

“You killed it – that’s all that matters,” Tanjiro assures her. “You did great!”

Finally, Hayami turns to him; her fair skin is even whiter than usual, fat droplets of sweat beading at her hairline and trickling down her forehead.

Tanjiro’s jaw slackens. “She didn’t hurt you, did she?”

Hayami waves a dismissive hand. “I just threw up – do you really expect me to look good after that?” Despite her sickly pallor, she flashes him a tiny smile. “I’m fine, Tanjiro. Besides, you’re the one who got hurt!” She makes a desperate clutch at his hands, eyes roaming over his features for any injuries. “I just – I got so mad that she hurt you. I mean, what if it was worse?”

“Says you!” Tanjiro exclaims, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the sleeve of his haori. “We should get you get to the Wisteria House before you get sick again.”

“I told you I’m fine.”

“At least let me carry you! I can put Nezuko’s box on my front and you can hitch a ride on my back.”

“No need,” Hayami grunts. Turning to the side, she spits the gross taste from her mouth and hauls herself to a stand. “I’m a big girl, Tanjiro. If there’s anybody that needs to be carried, it’s you.” She holds out a hand for him to take. “You worry me too much,” she says, voice now soft. Swallowing down his unease, Tanjiro grabs onto the extended hand and allows himself to be pulled up.

Leaning into Hayami, they turn away from the alcove, letting the singing birds and humming bugs be the only noise as they head back to the Wisteria House.

It’s a miracle they both came out unscathed.

After a quick checkup at the Wisteria House, it had been deemed that the two were mostly uninjured (the term was tossed around lightly since Tanjiro managed to get a bruise on his side after the impact). Thankfully, Hayami was free of anything of the sort, but her fever remained.

It was evening time when they finally arrived back, the glowing bulb in the sky making its gradual descent. Hayami decided to call it a night and retired to her room, leaving Tanjiro and Nezuko behind in her wake. Nezuko followed suit and decided that she, too, wanted to relax, so she took off towards the bathing chamber.

Back in the comfortable silence of his own room, Tanjiro slides the shoji screen closed behind him, all the while heaving a sigh. Easing himself onto the sprawled-out futon on the far side of the room, he leisurely kicks off his seta and undoes his kyahan, his tabi quickly following suit. It’s when he’s shucking off his haori when he hears it – a light, muffled groan, almost like the kind someone makes when they’re uncomfortable. Stilling his movements, Tanjiro waits for it again.

There.

“Gods, please…”

Tanjiro’s eyebrows furrow. It’s clearly Hayami’s voice alright, but what’s going on? Is she alright? Is she in trouble?

Without another moment’s hesitation, Tanjiro grabs his blade and brings himself to a stand; hurrying out of his room and to Hayami’s, he nearly wrenches her door open in his thoughtless rush to help. Like usual, the paper lanterns in her room radiate a welcoming glow. The somewhat dim light throws shadows over the tatami mats and the rice paper walls alike, but what instantly catches Tanjiro’s attention is the human-sized lump lying on the floor.

Tossing and turning on her futon, Hayami continues to grumble to herself; an arm is thrown over her eyes, the other draped over her stomach. Her boots lay off to the side, clearly tossed away as a second thought in her rush to get comfortable. Feet planted squarely on the futon, her knees are bent, the skirt to her uniform flipped and showing off way too much skin.

At first, Tanjiro blushes at the sight of her bare legs and thighs, but then she groans again and it’s enough to snap him back to reality. Setting his blade down, he hurries to her side, kneeling down and smoothing her bangs away from her face. Keening at his touch, she tears her arm away from her face and looks to him with pleading eyes. Her skin is unbearably hot to the touch, flushed a bright pink and covered in sweat. Hell, she looks even worse now than she did so earlier.

“Shh, I’m here, I’m here,” Tanjiro coos.

Gods dammit, that demon’s Blood Art was still taking its toll on Hayami. While its side effects have already worn off for Tanjiro, it’s clear that it’s way worse for her. Poor girl, getting horribly sick and having to suffer like this.

“Tanjiro,” she croaks, “it hurts.”

Oh, and the tone she uses. Tanjiro’s heart aches in empathy at the pain she must be enduring. “Where does it hurt?”

Perhaps he may have given her too much of an opening for that question.

His eyes widen as the hand resting over her stomach drops downward, shamelessly clutching at her crotch through her underwear. “Right here,” she breathes. “Please, Tanjiro…”

Surprise swells in his abdomen as she lightly paws at her sex, at the noises that almost sound like whines falling from her full mouth. There’s something else – something that Tanjiro recognizes as the weighted, hot feeling in his gut that only visits him in the hours of the night, only when he has a hand wrapped around himself, pulling and flicking and-

Oh no.

Tanjiro sucks in a breath, trying to rein in his composure, but then the smell of lavender and something sweet fills his nostrils. His mouth waters at the scent and he swallows heavily.

“Tanjiro,” Hayami pleads, squirming underneath his gaze, “please, help me. Please.”

The bitter odor. The way Hayami got sick. This.

“Gods, Tanjiro, help me!” Hayami cries.

Aphrodisiac.

A surprised yelp bursts from his chest as Hayami abruptly yanks him forward, pins him to the futon, and straddles his waist. “It’s too much!” she pleads, voice shaking. “Please, please, help me.”

“Hayami-“

Before he even gets the chance to finish, Hayami ducks down, sliding her mouth against his. Tanjiro’s mind screams at him, his heart leaps to his throat, his stomach tightens into a knot – Hayami is kissing him. After all this time, it’s happening.

She tastes so sweet, her lips unbelievably soft against his. His head is spinning at the unfolding events, but then his mind goes completely blank as her lips skim over the line of his jaw and latch onto the side of his throat instead. His breath hitches as her teeth nip at the tanned skin, crawling downwards toward the edge of his uniform.

“It’s too much,” she murmurs, reaching between them and yanking the buttons to his gakuran open. “Too many layers.”

“Hayami,” Tanjiro says, catching the growing rasp in his voice, “wait a second-“

A strangled groan escapes his throat as Hayami presses into him, her clothed pussy rubbing against the obvious tent in his pants. Hands twitching at his sides, he wonders what the hell he should even do. He doesn’t want to take advantage of her like this – in fact, he doesn’t want to take advantage of her at all. It’s already bad enough that she’s told him about past bad experiences, how they’ve taken a toll on her, how far she’s come to get over the trauma. No, Tanjiro doesn’t want to put her through that again, not even if the constant friction against his cock feels heavenly.

“Tanjiro, look at me,” she says, sitting up and looking him right in the eye, “I… I don’t think the Blood Art is going to wear off by itself.” Leaning back down, she presses her luscious breasts into him, eyes catching the flickering lights of the lanterns. She looks like she’s damn close to tears. “I trust you, Tanjiro,” she confesses. “I trust you more than anybody.”

I trust you.

Heart beating a thousand shades of red, the backs of Tanjiro’s eyes sting with emotion. She trusts him. Gods, she trusts him in a time of upmost vulnerability, to take care of her and give her what she needs. No, he tells himself, I need this just as much.

Cupping her face, he pulls her into another kiss; the two of them mold perfectly together, lips slanting and tongues caressing each other in way that is utterly incredible. Together, they sit up, hands intermingling between their bodies and yanking away at Tanjiro’s uniform jacket and shirt. The air feels warm against his bare skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat radiating off Hayami’s. The layers of clothing seem to melt off, leaving them gasping into each other’s mouths and wandering their hands over uncovered territory.

There’s a slight quake to her movements, Tanjiro notices. If he didn’t know any better, he’d simply say it’s because of arousal, but it’s not that.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs, brushing his calloused fingers down her back.

“You won’t.” She kisses him again, tongue sweeping into his mouth in a fit of passion.

It’s just so easy pressing her onto her back, kissing her sweet, sweet skin; Tanjiro makes his descent, lips brushing over her collarbones, the swell of her breasts, her tummy, all the way down to where that delicious smell comes from. He goes easy at first, his inexperience clearly showing, but Hayami doesn’t seem to mind.

The noises slipping from her mouth are otherworldly. They grace his ears, drive him to work harder, to slip his tongue further into her dripping arousal, to clutch at her strong thighs. Fuck, and he’s so hard, cock brushing against the futon and leaving a sticky mess.

“Pretty boy, so good, so fucking good,” Hayami murmurs. Tanjiro’s cock twitches at the words, causes him to shudder. “More, I need more – gods, Tanjiro, my handsome boy, give me more.” He moans into her pussy as her fingers grip onto the base of his ponytail and yank.

Everything is just so hot and it feels good and Hayami tastes as sweet as she smells and Tanjiro can’t get enough-

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Tanjiro grits, tongue lashing out as Hayami’s slick floods his mouth. “Sweetheart…” Propping himself up, his eyes frantically search for Hayami’s. He feels tremendously dizzy, a fog covering his mind and making him want everything he can take. “Can I – can I fuck you?” he blurts.

Hayami nods eagerly. “Yes.”

Groaning, Tanjiro pumps at his neglected cock, smearing precum over his meaty girth; leaning in, the head brushes against Hayami’s folds, gathering slick before pushing in, filling her up in a way that has them both moaning. He shudders as Hayami slings her arms and legs around him, shifting her hips and fucking herself on his cock. He doesn’t want to hurt her – he wants to go slow, show her how much she truly means to him, but fuck if he doesn’t feel like some wild animal.

He’s desperate in his movements, pumping his cock in and out of her tight heat, murmuring you’re so beautiful, you’re so beautiful, gods, you feel fucking amazing into her neck. The scent of her arousal clings to the insides of his nostrils, makes him even dizzier in the head. A little nagging thought in the back of his mind tells him that the effects spread from her to him, but he doesn’t care.

Her velvety walls suck his cock back in so easily, the lewd squelching and smacking of skin against skin making him want to fuck her even harder.

“Tanjiro, shit – your cock’s amazing,” she mutters into his ear, fingers yanking on his hair as she quickens the movements of her hips. “You trying to make me feel good, yeah? Fuck me with that thick cock of yours?”

Her words do wonders for his libido. If she continues to talk to him like that, he’s gonna cum in no time. “Can I,” he pauses, swallows thickly, “can I put a baby in you? Please, beautiful, you’d look so gorgeous being all nice and plump with my child.”

“Yes,” she purrs, digging her fingernails into the dips of his muscular shoulder blades. “Make me yours, Tanjiro. Show the world that you fucked me so good.”

It’s those words that push Tanjiro over the edge; ramming himself in deep, he releases his load, painting her insides white. He mouths at her throat, whimpering slightly as he bucks his hips a few more times, the sheer amount of cum being too much for her precious little pussy to handle.

“Good boy,” she purrs. “Now just-“ cutting herself off short, she directs his hand to her pussy, placing his rough fingers to her clit and guiding him through the movements. She cums soon after that, head lolling backward as a breath of Tanjiro’s name catches in her throat.

Tanjiro takes extra care of her after that, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear as he wipes the both of them clean. It pains him to leave her side for that short amount of time, but then he’s soon slinging his arms around her body, nestling his chin in the crook of her shoulder as they drift into a dreamless sleep.

Tanjiro wakes up to the sound of birds chirping.

With a groan, he tries to stretch, but he soon tenses up at the fact that he can’t move. Glancing downwards, his heart skips a beat as he’s met with Hayami’s pretty face; she’s still fast asleep with her arms linked around his waist and keeping him in place. Flashes of the night prior fill his vision, leave him heavily flushed and smiling sheepishly.

Breathe in, breathe out. Focus, Tanjiro, focus.

He thinks he’s finally died and went to heaven.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x oc #kimetsu no yaiba x oc #demon slayer x oc #tanjiro kamado #kamado tanjiro #tanjiro kamado x oc #kamado tanjiro x oc #commission #hinokami-s

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moonknightly · 4 years

Text

Could Feel You Surrounding Me : Santiago “Pope” Garcia x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Excerpt: “Thinking about the aftermath almost felt like giving yourself false hope. You didn’t want to think about the future until you knew for certain that Santi was in the clear.”

Warnings: Uhh mentions of injury, blood, cursing. That’s it I think? This one has a happy ending fellas!

The first emotion you experience is shock. It’s unfathomable, how someone you love and care for so deeply, with every inch of your being, could be at the forefront of a situation you thought only existed in dramatized TV shows — under harsh lights, covered in bandages that turn from white to red and only do so much to hide the cuts and the bruises that mark their skin. Attached to various tubes, drains, and IV lines. So many different wires.

The sight is near unbearable, and it doesn’t get any easier, no matter how many hours or even days pass by in a blur of fast-moving staff wearing stethoscopes and scrubs. And everytime you close your eyes, you tell yourself that once you open them again, you’ll finally be used to it. You tell yourself it’s not gonna hurt as bad this time, but it’s even harder than it was before.

And the sounds. God, the sounds. The unfamiliar, almost haunting beeps and buzzes that start to become a comfort because they serve as the only reminder that they’re still there. The excruciating and traumatic cries of a family’s hearts breaking from down the hall mixed with rare periods of somber silence. The rapid-fire exchange of incomprehensible medical terminology, so many different medications and diagnoses and explanations that you just can’t wrap your head around.

It starts with the shock, because while you knew that this reality existed outside of those damned TV shows, and while you were aware of the possibility of having to live it yourself, given his line of work, you never thought you would actually have to face seeing Santi lying in the ICU like this.

Because he promised. Each and every single time he went out on a mission, he promised you that he’d come home to you, safe and sound and in one piece. And Santiago never broke his promises. Not a damn one.

But it had been a freak accident, and he hadn’t even been on a mission, and that was probably what freaked you out the most. The new realization that it could happen at any given moment, at any given time in any given circumstance.

All of the sleepless nights spent in your empty bed, praying to any divine being that would listen, worrying over his safety and just wishing him home, and he’d managed to land himself in this position during a boy’s trip into the mountains for a little leisurely camping.

They’d been rock climbing, something they were all five well-trained in, but the rope had been settled against a rock with a rather sharp edge, and the constant pulling of his weight had cut straight through it. It was a fall that he was lucky to survive. The paramedics who arrived on scene hadn’t expected to find him alive, and definitely hadn’t expected him to come back once he needed to be resuscitated.

His neglect to check the ridge was something that seemed so out of character for both him and the other boys. No detail was ever overlooked. It was hard for you to believe that he hadn’t noticed how sharp the edge of the rock had been, but you also knew Santi — he never would have thought it would happen to him

There were several things the nurses told you that you didn’t quite understand, and honestly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to ask them to clarify, or put it into words that actually made sense. As ignorant as it was, you almost didn’t want to understand. You didn’t want to focus on all of his injuries and the no doubt long recovery ahead until he opened those big brown eyes of his that you so adored and kept them open.

Thinking about the aftermath almost felt like giving yourself false hope. You didn’t want to think about the future until you knew for certain that Santi was in the clear.

What you did understand was that he had several broken ribs, some injuries to his spinal cord, and a moderate traumatic brain injury amongst other things blunt force trauma to his abdomen and chest caused. He’d needed a blood transfusion down in the ER, and he was on so many different medications, you couldn’t keep up.

They’d sedated him after a mild seizure, keeping him in a medically induced coma for the first two days before waking him again. He hadn’t been able to stay awake for long though, and while your eyes had briefly met, you don’t think he really registered who you were or what was going on.

It was day four now, and he was breathing on his own. He was waking up unprompted more and more, usually to vomit, but would fall back asleep after only a minute or two. Sometimes he would glance towards you as if to make sure that someone was still with him, sometimes he would only blink at the ceiling. He’d move, but only if a nurse asked him to touch his nose or wiggle his toes, and he hadn’t said a word.

But neither had you. Each time he looked at you, you could only stare back, blinking away your tears until you were sure he was asleep again. Only then would you let yourself cry, and fuck, did you cry. You were sure you had cried more in the last four days than you ever had before.

Only one person was allowed in the room at a time, and the only time you left his side was to let one of the boys visit. Frankie usually sat with you in the cafeteria while the other three took their turns, trying to get you to eat something, but he’d convinced you to use the time that day to run home and get a shower in, and grab yourself some clothes and other things you’d need since it was apparent you wouldn’t be leaving. He knew no one other than Santiago could convince you to stay the night in your own home rather than in the recliner by his bedside.

Frankie also knew that as brave as Pope was, he’d want you next to him through it all. He’d be heartbroken if he woke up and you weren’t there.

You’d be just as torn up over it.

A nurse checked on him every hour, and it was this particular nurse’s last round before shift change. You liked her. Her name was Casey, and she was always so gentle with him. It was obvious that she actually cared about her patients, not just for them, and you appreciated it to no end, words failing every time you tried to properly thank her. You knew the comfort was something he needed, something you were still too scared to give him. You were afraid to touch him, so terrified that you’d hurt him or cause him even an ounce of discomfort. You hadn’t even touched his hand.

But, it was something you needed to get over. You both needed it.

You watched as she worked around him, checking to make sure everything was still in place, double checking it even after she was sure nothing had wiggled its way loose. She peeked over her shoulder towards you. “The doctors are bringing in an occupational therapist tomorrow.”

“For what?” you asked, shifting in your chair, eyes flickering between her and Santi.

“We’re hoping to keep him awake long enough to get him to write a few things down. See if communicating that way is a possibility. And if not that, maybe we can get him to point at a chart with different letters to spell things out.”

You shifted again. “Is he ready for that?”

“The doctors seem to think so. The longer he stays awake, the better we can gauge where he’s at cognitively.”

You stayed silent at that, your stomach flipping as another bout of fear moved through you.

Casey seemed to know exactly where your head was at though, and she stopped momentarily to reach back and set a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“He’s expected to make a full recovery sweetheart. I’m not the type to believe in miracles and things like that, but given what he’s already pulled himself through, he’s one lucky man.”

You smiled gently, putting your hand over hers, but a frown quickly worked its way back onto your face. “I’m just scared he doesn’t recognize me. Every time he looks at me, it’s almost like he’s looking through me.”

“And does that make you love him any less?”

You were taken aback by her words, completely shocked. But you immediately shook your head, eyebrows furrowing. “Of course not.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because it’s not his fault.” Your answer was again immediate. “Because he just went through some shit and it’s not his fault at all. I vowed to love him for better or for worse, and that wasn’t a promise either of us took lightly.”

“Exactly,” she shrugged, pointing to him. “Because that’s still your husband. He’s still your Santiago. There’s just a few kinks to work out, and even if those kinks did become permanent, you’d still love him, right?.”

“Absolutely.”

“Then there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

You knew she was right. You knew that even if he didn’t recognize you at first, the doctors were near positive that he would eventually. And even if he didn’t, and he had to relearn you completely, it’d be worth it. Because at least he was still alive, still breathing. You still had him.

“Thank you.”

Casey smiled, smiling and squeezing your shoulder gently before turning her attention back to Santiago.

Once she was finished, she turned towards you again, tilting her head to the side. “You know, he could really use a bath. And I think he’d appreciate it if you were the one to do it instead of me.”

The smirk on her face was entirely noticeable, and you knew exactly what she was doing, but you still nodded your head, suddenly craving the physical contact, that connection.

“Great,” she hummed, leaving the room to grab the supplies you would need in order to give him a sponge bath.

She returned a moment letter with a cloth, some soap and deodorant, and a basin of water, instructing you to stay clear of any bandages, and to not worry about his hair. If he woke up, you could try to wash his back, but otherwise she didn’t want you to worry about that either. You nodded your head, listening intently even though it was all pretty straightforward. She turned off the bed alarm, showing you which button to press once you got up again, and left the room.

Once Casey was gone, you took a moment to just stare at him, even though you hadn’t truly looked at anything else in the last four days. He looked better than he had when you first saw him, really. He had some color back in his cheeks, and the lines on his forehead had smoothed out. He looked almost peaceful.

You sighed gently, giving yourself one final push before stepping forward, carefully peeling the blanket and the sheet away from his body.

Should you try to wake him? Or would it be better for you to just go for it? You decided on the latter, thinking it would be better if he woke up on his own accord. If he stayed asleep, then it was obvious his body needed it.

“Hey, sweet boy,” you whispered as you sat down on the edge of the bed, pushing a few sweat soaked curls away from his forehead. “I’d ask how you’re doing but that seems a little redundant right now.”

You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head as you reached for the cloth, wetting it and applying a little bit of soap. You started on his arms, staying away from his IV and the bandage near his elbow. Your touch was gentle, slow, but the feeling of his skin under your fingertips after not feeling it for days set both your body and soul ablaze, chest so full of love and something else that you couldn’t quite place. Relief, maybe? You didn’t know.

“The boys have been in and out,” you continued, even though he couldn’t hear you. You just wanted to talk to him. “Frankie told me you woke up for a second the last time he was in here. He cried a little bit, but he’s never gonna admit it.”

You hesitated, moving to untie the hospital gown as much as you could, pulling it down just enough to reveal his chest, being extremely careful not to accidentally disconnect a wire for the heart monitor. You started on his upper arms.

“The boys feel like shit. They all think there was something they could’ve done to prevent it, even though everyone knows it was just a stupid accident. Benny’s taking it really hard.”

You brought your free hand to his lower stomach, your fingertips tracing random shapes and patterns into his skin as you moved the cloth over his right shoulder, your eyes glued to your movements.

“I miss you so much,” you sighed, shaking your head slowly. “I mean, I know you’re right fucking here, but you know what I mean. I miss your hugs, your kisses. Your voice. Those beautiful, beautiful eyes of yours.”

The tears started before you even had a chance to realize. You could feel them trailing down your cheeks, falling onto the sheets below.

“I just really need you to be okay, you hear me baby? I need you.”

Your voice cracked, and you felt yourself begin to shake, the sobs moving through your body with relentless force. You made yourself stay quiet though, not wanting to scare a nurse or a family down the hall, or even Santi himself.

Nothing had ever been so hard. This entire experience had been more than difficult, but as you sat there, thinking about how things could have gone in an entirely different direction, and how you could have walked away a widow instead of a wife, you realized exactly how true Casey’s words had been. Santi really was lucky, and so were you.

And if this was hard for you, you couldn’t even begin to imagine how hard it would be for him once he was fully conscious again, and able to make sense of everything that he’d been through. The doctors were still unsure of just how far his brain injury ran, but they were sure there were things that would take time to come back to him — like his ability to speak, possibly his ability to walk. They predicted that he’d have migraines for months. Light sensitivity, some dizziness and confusion that could last just as long. Fatigue, general weakness. Pain. His recovery was going to be hell, and there you were, having sat by his bedside for four days feeling sorry for yourself.

How could you have been so selfish? In a time where your husband needed you most?

You felt selfish even crying, but you couldn’t stop. The tears just kept pouring, and the hole in your chest grew and grew as you continued to spiral deeper and deeper into your thoughts.

You were only pulled from them when you felt a set of knuckles gently brush against your cheek, and for a moment, you thought one of the boys had managed to sneak their way in, or maybe it was even Casey coming to check in one last time before heading home for the night.

The last thing you expected to see when you blinked your eyes open was a familiar pair of warm brown ones staring right back at you.

Brown eyes full of recognition and worry.

You gasped, not able to stop the sound before it left your lips, but you did refrain from throwing your arms around him, knowing the action would probably hurt him or knock something loose. Instead, you reached up, taking his hand and intertwining your fingers with his.

“Santi?”

He blinked a couple of times, looking as if he wanted to say something in response, but he could only frown, and you knew him well enough to notice that his inability to speak was already frustrating him.

But you almost took that as a good thing, because it showed that he remembered waking up before, and how he hadn’t been able to speak any of those times either. The fact that he remembered was good, right?

And he might not have been able to verbally speak, but there were still so many things he could say without words. You felt him squeeze your hand, three times — a silent “I love you”, something he had started doing not long after saying it to you for the first time.

“I love you too, baby. I love you so much.”

He pulled on your hand, trying to bring you closer to him, and you started to shake your head, still worried about hurting him.

“Santi, no-”

This time he gently smacked your hand, effectively silencing you as he pointed to his shoulder, and you knew what he was trying to tell you — you wouldn’t hurt him if you were only lying against his shoulder.

He knew exactly what you were thinking without you needing to speak, too.

And you couldn’t deny him, not when he was looking at you with those puppy dog eyes he knew would get him anything he wanted.

You tossed the washcloth back into the water, and pulled his gown back up, redoing the ties before scooting further up the bed. You made sure that everything was out of the way before leaning back against him, keeping your eyes trained on his face the entire time. Only when he didn’t flinch did you finally relax.

And you both simply laid there, staring at one another, letting your eyes do all of the talking. Neither of you looked away, not even once. Not until Santi’s eyes started to close again, his exhaustion taking over once more. You kissed the corner of his mouth, and you watched as his lips twitched upwards into a small smile before he gave into unconsciousness.

He’d managed to stay awake for over half an hour this go around, and for twenty minutes the next time he woke up, and another twenty after that.

And when morning came and Casey walked into the room for the first round of her shift, all she could do was smile.

Santiago was awake again, and you were the one asleep, lightly snoring from your place on his shoulder, looking so completely at peace.

And he was looking at you like he was the luckiest man alive.

#santiago pope garcia #santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier imagine

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iwantutobehapppier · 4 years

Text

As It Was

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You and Steve had been hooking up on the sly for months now. Feelings are caught but is everyone adult enough to deal with them? And who caught them?

Warning: 18+ Only, Smut, Angst, sooo much angst. I’m not a nice person in this one. Described panic attack, cursing etc.

Word Count: 3,990

A/N: I’m in a mood and working through it. There will be sex and angst. Expect nothing more. Enjoy! :) Sorry not sorry. @sagechanoafterdark is gonna hate me after this but I will make her latkes to make up for it. Oh and def not MCU Canon. Everyone’s alive, I'm making it angsty enough don’t need dead peeps too. For now kekeke.

You were both truly naive to think you could hide from a group of spies and enhanced like this but your hopefulness coupled with Steve’s never-ending optimism pushed you into delusions. Or maybe it was just the lies you let yourselves live in, that this was only sex and there was no need for anyone else to know.

“How did that date go last night?” You tried to focus on Wanda’s idle chit-chat waiting for the rest of the team to file into the conference room for a debriefing on the newest mission. Steve stood to the side of the room talking with Bucky; you looked his way to find him staring at you. He shouldn’t be so obvious really but it was hard not to stare as you were in his bed just this morning.

“Hello?” Wanda waved her hand in front of your face. You jerked back giving her full attention but not without a bashful glance.

“Good. I mean probably okay?” You sighed, “No it went pretty bad actually.” Wanda’s frown encompassed her whole face; she had been trying so hard to help you with your love life. It wasn’t like you could fault her for meddling, Vision and she worked so well together and she wanted the same for you.

She just couldn’t know that it was hard to have any good date when you were hooking up with Captain America on the sly. They would all pale in comparison but this date had been quite the spectacle of tragedies.

“Never knew someone could talk about themselves for an entire night. Let’s not forget he flirted blatantly with the waitress then, made some innuendo at me blowing him in his car in the middle of dessert.” Giving a reader’s digest version of the story you wouldn’t mention to her the way his hand kept riding up your skirt or how he practically propositioned the kind waitress to partake in a threesome.

You may have also spared the details for listening ears, specifically the pair attached to a blonde centenarian, who would not respond well to learning you had not been entirely forthcoming with details when wrapped up in his bedsheets following the atrocious date.

“He tried to put his hand up your skirt?!” Wanda’s tone was harsh, her powers lighting up her hands in response to her rage.

“You promised!” You frowned at her, you had requested several times she keep her wandering mind to herself around you. Wanda blushed at being caught.

“I knew you were holding back,” She didn’t even vein remorse, “I’m sorry it went so badly but I am not sorry for prying.” She took your hands in hers about to speak but Tony interrupted.

“I know you all have missed me whilst away,” Tony held his hand to his heart “But I am here!” last to enter with this signature flair of dramatics, “Capsicle take it away!” Tony plopped down next to you with a side smirk that you reciprocated with an eye roll.

Facing forward Steve’s eyes landed on you first, the small frown marring his face indicating he had heard Wanda.

“Let’s get started,” Tightness in his voice made you involuntarily flinch, you knew, later on, there’d be a conversation or worse there wouldn’t be one at all.

~~*~~

You limp your way back to the personal quarters following a very long but successful mission. Not without the colossal share of setbacks landing Natasha in the med bay, Bucky stranded at one point without working comm, Tony’s suit damaged beyond macrobiotics ability to repair and you along with Steve ambushed. What did it matter though if the mission was successful?

Happy to finally be back in the sanctuary for your room you started the shower letting it warm up while you slipped out of your gear. Walking back into your bedroom the welcomed silence was interrupted by your sharp inhale through clenched teeth at the pull of the tight suit on bruised and battered muscles.

“Need some help?” You jump turning around at the sight of Steve leaning against your door jam. His arms crossed over his torn and dirty stealth uniform. Did he follow you to your room from the Quinjet? The jerk on your battered body nearly sends you to your knees in pain. You just wanted to be in that hot shower, let your body feel some form of relief.

“Yes, please,” All you can get out, working hard to keep the tears of pain at bay. There was no reason to hold them back except your own pride. Steve shut your door and strode over to you, helping you peel the catsuit down your back, over your hips, his fingers gentle trailing over forming bruises.

Steve clenches his jaw the more he exposes your injuries, a rather deep cut on your hip, dried blood trailing all the way past your knee. You place your hands on his shoulder when he ushers your legs from the suit. Left in your activewear bra and underwear you felt an unusual level of vulnerability.

You two had been fooling around for months but neither tended to each other in such a way outside of mandatory mission first aid.

“I’m going to wash this grime off, did you want to join?” You voice barely a whisper staring down at Steve, his head slowly trailing up your body to catch your gaze. With a brief nod he stands up and you step out of your suit, moving to face his chest and helping him remove his suit.

Soon the two of you are bare, under the harsh bathroom fluorescents and warm large showerhead’s rushing water. You stand there, your back to his front, almost touching. Almost something more than just a mutual need to clean. You close your eyes and tilt-up, letting the rainfall showerhead leave trails of water down your face. The two of you shampooed your respective hair, he opted to use your gardenia scented shampoo, his own shampoo only ever in his bathroom.

Having him so close and naked but not touching left an uneasy ache in your stomach. The sensation that something was wrong, but what could be wrong? You turned your head back to look at him, his eyes were already on you, they were always on you. His gaze felt different than any others and you weren’t sure what it meant. A storm burning behind those beautiful blue eyes. Often, you find yourself getting lost in those pools of blue. Clearing your throat you turned back around, closing your eyes and tilting your head back up to rinse the shampoo from your hair.

Maybe you imagined it all? Your desire to want more from him projecting your own wishes in his actions.

You are startled from your thoughts when you feel a soaped washcloth gently drag across the back of your neck, along your back and moving to your front. Rough calloused hands with a tender touch washing you clean of all the harshness of the past few days. A relaxed sigh escapes your lips, the coupling of warm water helping your muscles loosen and Steve’s attention pulls you into a cloud of comfort.

An involuntary hiss pulls from your mouth when he washes the deep gash on your hip. Muttered “Sorry” is his response, bending his knees to be low enough behind you to clear away the blood. Your eyes drawn to the crimson water swirling down the drain, but you were pulled to face him, his eyes assessing your front to find any speck of grime he missed.

Once he was satisfied you took the washcloth from him, ensuring to ring it clean and reapply soap you begin the task of cleansing him.

Petite hands run over the wide expanse of his chest following the washcloth, this feels different, you want to shake it off and pretend that was not true but it was different. Whatever it was between the two of you, it was growing, mutating, maturing into something more.

With both of you free of the missions burdens and dirt his lips crash against yours. The intensity of his kiss is startling, hands trailing up your sides to wrap around your back, pulling you flush to him. His touch was untethered in a way unfamiliar to you. Finally, he pulls his lips from yours, your lugs desperate for air. Wide eyes look at him, and he can only answer with a low lid gaze, licking his lips as he pulls you in once more to drink up all you have to offer. If he asked you’d give him everything and what was left after that.

Your hands grip his shoulders, needing an anchor in the rocking waves of his desire. His hardening cock presses against your stomach, a soft moan spilling into his mouth that he eagerly consumes it. Hands slipping down your waist, one hand gripping your wound free hip he hoists you up against the cool bathroom tiled wall.

Legs wrapped around his waist, his gorgeous cock sitting pretty between your lips. You rock against him, your slick coating him, he grunts into your mouth, not once pulling away, you take in much need air through your nose.

There was no need for foreplay, you were always ready for him, something you hoped he did and didn’t notice at the same time. After all the power he had over you, you wanted to keep him ignorant. Oblivious to your thoughts consumed by him, the way your skin craves his touch, your heart longed to keep him there with you forever. The dates you went on to keep appearance that this was still casual to you. That this was still whatever he wanted it to be so it wouldn’t stop.

Pulling you from your thoughts Steve manhandles your body to line you up. Releasing your lips you watch at his cock sitting at your entrance. You coo, watching him slowly push in. Your fingernails dig into his shoulder, Pushing forward until he’s reached your depths. There’s a lascivious way to how he feels inside of you. His head falling into your neck, peppering kisses on the wet skin.

“Feel so good around me,” he garbles into your neck. The pace he starts is slow at first, almost loving, but the jarring way he pushes the last few inches in reminds you what this is. Carding your hands through his hair you pull his head back to look him in the eyes.

“Fuck me Steve,” His eyes darken, following your command he pummels into your heat. Driving you both into moaning messes. Foreheads pressed together, slapping of flesh echoing against the tiled walls. He presses his lips to yours, the softness of it contrasting the carnal brutality of his cock driving into you.

Lowering his head he takes a pebbled nipple into his mouth, suckling and pulling. Knowing you love that pain wrapped in your pleasure. Your hands slap against his back, arching into his touch you cry out. Fingers digging into the corded muscles of his back you seek purchase on something, pleasure wrecking your body of any sense.

“Steve!” You holler, your body drawing tight as the ever needed orgasm nears. “Please,” the gentleness in your pleas pulls Steve’s head back up. A hand leaves your waist, cupping the side of your face. “Yes, I’ll give you whatever you want.” He gasps out face tightening as you both near.

“Come for me and you can have it all,” he continues hips never faltering. His cock stretching and dragging along your walls. A particular deep thrust sends you spinning, your legs tighten around him fingers digging into flesh enough to bruise if he hadn’t been a super-soldier.

His pace stutters, a staccato of groans fall from his lips and you feel that telling of warmth shooting inside you. God how you loved the way he felt cumming inside you.

There’s a peaceful silence in the oncoming dawn, the two of you wrapped in each other under your bedsheets. Legs tangled together, your head resting on his chest, entranced by the rhythm of his heartbeat. You woke before him, a first, drawing random patterns on his chest with your finger.

Idle thoughts race through your head, now that the mission is washed away after a night of rest you could not help but think on your date and Steve’s reaction to you withholding information. If it wasn’t addressed sooner rather than later it would just be a new topic for you two to not talk about, just like whatever this was.

When he wakes up, his arms wrap around you, holding you tightly against him. The embrace welcomed and certainly something you could get used to as a routine. He lets out an exaggerated yawn and smacks his lips together looking down at you with a sleep ridden smile. A smile tugs at your lips at his adorable morning mannerisms.

Better to get this all out in the open before the day began and you became a coward.

“About that date-” Before you can say more a shadow falls over him, lips downturned when he practically chucks you off him.

“You’re not obligated to tell me things like that,” his voice rough with sleep, he swings his legs off the bed sitting up with his back to you. “You’re really not obligated to me in any way outside of following mission directives,” the curtness in his voice is searing in your ears.

Right, right you two weren’t obligated to each other. Obligate meant you had to get something back from him other than orgasms.

“Oh right…” the silence settles between the two of you, heavy and uncomfortable. You pull your sheets up to cover your chest while sitting up. There are a few moments of controlled breathing, erratic heartbeats, and tense shoulders. Steve stands and makes for his dirty mission clothes, never looking back at you, covering his privates with the clothes but not putting them on. Your room was across from his, not like anyone would see him.

“I’ll see you around,” It wasn’t until he was out of the room that you realized the shared silence between you two was full of all the things left unsaid, or half-spoken.

You don’t see him again until the next mission briefing a few days later. Only looking for him once, and when he brushed you off to spend time with Bucky you weren’t hurt only upset he never came to you later.

Entering the familiar conference room you sit next to Tony who was surprisingly there before you. He smiles at you and you return it before facing forward. Steve not looking at you, for once. His eyes on the report in his hands, a grimace covering his face before he begins to discuss the upcoming mission. Eyes never leaving the paper.

“Are there naked girls on that paper man?” Bucky asks a soft chuckle is Tony’s input.

Steve huffs looking at his longest friend, “No.” a grumble under his breath.

“Then maybe look up, what’s wrong with you punk?” Steve’s eyes divert to you for a moment, so fast you almost miss it before he’s looking at Bucky once more.

“Nothing,” he clears his throat and continues, his eyes perusing the room but never landing on you. Your face downturned to the table, the uneasy feeling you had during the shared shower returned but tenfold. He calls out your name and it startles you, jerking up to look at him. His lips pinched before he continues.

‘You and Tony will be doing this one together,” You look at Tony who gives you a thumbs up with a soft smile. While the two of you had been paired before on group missions it had never been just the two of you.

“We’ve got this Firecracker, right?” Giving a tentative smile you nod in agreement. Looking back to Steve he’s staring down at his papers once more, brow furrowed and lips pursed. Whatever thoughts he had storming in his brain, not good.

~~*~~

Five days, you’re with Tony for five days on this mission. It wasn’t so bad except Tony loved to complain. You were used to the silence of Natasha and Bucky or friendly conversations with Steve. Not the never-ending complaints of one Tony Stark.

You escape to your room, leaning against the shut door with a relieved sigh. Silence, blessed silence.

However, that silence was short-lived when the echo of knocking on Steve’s door carried over. You should move further into your room and not eavesdrop but you were too exhausted to care enough about proper decorum.

“Hey Steve,” a soft familiar feminine voice greeted Steve as he answered the door. Your eyes narrowed. Who was that?

“Oh! You’re here.” He sounded flustered, “I’m so sorry I should have met you out front.” His words are rushed with an uneasiness to it. What was Steve hiding?

“It’s alright, Bucky let me in and honestly I was just excited to see you for tonight” the soft comforting words carry across the hall through your door. Just as you went to step away, not wanting to hear anything that would do permanent damage to your already fragile heart.

“I mean we’ve been tiptoeing around each other for years then it was radio silence,” there was an awkward chuckle from Steve in response “Was surprised when you asked me out.” There it was. You fall back against the door, the back of your head hitting the door with a thud.

“Oh, what was that?” The female voice questions but Steve dismisses it quickly and leads her down the hall. Away from you. For a date. A date that Steve was going on. Without you.

Your heart pounds in your ears, sliding down the door toppling onto your ass, the pounding on gets louder. Taking in large gulps of breath you try to gain a sense of reality, it's unobtainable. A buzzing noise is all you can hear. Whatever this was it made all torture you’d suffered in the past seem like child’s play. Crushing, that's what it felt like, being crushed from the inside out. Big fat tears made their way down your cheeks.

Oh, what a fool you had been. Why would you deserve to be cherished? How could someone see you more than a simple means to an end? Laying on your side, you curl up into yourself on the floor of your room. The buzzing in your head and straggled breaths the only sound you could make out.

~~*~~

Much later in the evening, there was a tentative knock on your door. Struggling to open your tear swollen eyes you make out your name being called. Another knock, louder this time, you sit up and with a deep breath, you rub your face. Slowly standing on your knees you open the door and look up to see Wanda’s worry stricken face.

“Oh no,” a soft sigh and suddenly your being picked up, she pulls your arm around your shoulder and leads you out of your room, down the hall where Steve left, with her. You feel the crushing sensation return.

Wanda sensing your ramping thoughts sets you on a stool in the kitchen and takes your hand.

“Deep breaths,” A soft hand on your chest, “In through your nose,” She takes a deep breath and you mimic holding it with her. The hand on your chest glows a soft red, you feel your body relax “out through your mouth,” together again you breath out. “Keep doing that I’m making some tea.”

Watching her movements you continue your breathing as instructed, a thought crept up. Did she listen to him as you did? Was her advice better than yours? Was he kissing her like he did you in the shower?

“Stop!” Wanda’s voice soft but tone harsh enough to still your thoughts. You hadn’t even noticed your breathing pick up. She brings the tea over and mimics the breathing pattern once more and you follow along.

“There was something I wanted to tell you before that last group mission,” Wanda pushes the warm tea in front of you. Steam raising out the cup, you curl your fingers around the mug. The heat emitting into your hands helps you realize you had been cold. Pulling the mug up you take a small sip, the warmth blooming down your throat to your stomach releases an uncontrollable sigh from you, shoulders sagging.

“I heard your thoughts, about the date, about Steve,” the way she stresses his name makes you tense once more a sharp breath in. She tips her mug to you and taking another small sip you let the warmth soothe you once more.

“You’re worthy,” she speaks so softly you almost miss it. “I heard it, the thoughts you weren’t good enough, weren’t worth love.” Looking down at the mug setting it on the table you have no words to offer in response.

“You’re worth so much more than this world has given you,” a hand takes your from your mug, fingers intertwining. A feeling of warm euphoria slowly seeps in your hand up your body. She says your name making you look up at her.

“It’s okay to say what you need,” you jerk your hand away at her words the feelings she provided evaporated.

You open your mouth to say something but the elevator doors ding, both turning you regret ever coming out of your room.

There he was, handsome as ever, hands in his pant pockets. Head bowed down with furrowed brows. It’s a few steps out of the elevator that he notices you and Wanda. Steve freezes, his eyes didn’t leave you. Trailing up and down your body you suddenly became self-conscious of the fact you had never changed out of your gear and eyes more than likely still puffy from crying. You certainly looked sexy right now.

He takes a timid step towards you, your back goes straight and you stand up from the stool. Whatever he had to say wasn’t going to help your current mood, you’d rather just avoid the inevitable. You were rather good at circumventing fate.

When he says your name you make your exit of the kitchen, seeking solace in the four walls of your room. His feet are pounding on the floor as he make chase for you.

A warm large hand grabs your upper arm stopping your progress. You whip your face around and look up at him. His lips pursed together again, there’s that look, the deepness of his blue eyes. The impossible futures you projected.

“I-” He pauses and clears his throat, his eyes shifting around you. “I know you heard Sharon and I,” you let out a hiss at her name. Sharon, fucking, of course, Sharon Carter. There was nothing wrong with Sharon, she was a great CIA agent, a remarkable SHIELD agent but she was also locked into Steve’s past.

Not worthy, unlovable, not his, not enough, never amount to that connection. Is all that runs through your head.

“Right, but you’re not obligated to tell me things like that,” You hate yourself right now, why were you throwing his words back in his face. “In fact,” Stop! Stop! “I’m not obligated to you in any way except following orders.”

Steve’s reaction to your verbal assault is similar to if you had smacked him, he takes a step back leaning away from you. His hand slackens on your arm and you use this to slip out.

Without another word you rip your arm from his loosened grip and make your way to your room. Shutting the door behind you, you walk into your closet and shut that door too. You go as deep as you can in the closet, far away from Steve. You didn’t want him to hear you crying, did not want him to hear your heartbreak.

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #jealous!steve #captain america x reader #steve rogers smut #captain america smut #angst #marvel smu #Marvel Universe #tony stark #wanda maximov #Bucky Barnes #fanfic

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kchuarts · 4 years

Text

Loki gets what Loki wants.

A/N: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) oh yeah. It's all coming together. Just a drabble..

Summary: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I'm thirsty, you're thirsty, and Loki is PARCHED.

Warnings: 🔞 SMUT SMUT SMUT 🔞 *this gif is pure sin*

'Finally, some time to relax...' Astrid thought to herself as she basked in the hot water of her shower. Not too long ago, she had moved back to the Avengers base per Tony's request, Thor's suggestion and as much as he didn't want to admit... Loki's demand.

“If I am to be watched like a child, then I require your daughter to be here.” A smirk snaked it’s way across Loki’s as he locked eyes with Tony.

Pursing his lips and glaring at the mischievous dark haired god, the Billionaire took a sip of his scotch. “No.”

“No?” Loki took a step toward Tony, the smirk still plastered on his pale face. “Then I shall not comply and you will be the first to-” A strong hand grabbed Loki’s shoulder and pulled him back away from Tony.

“Brother cease your antics. Your threats are meaningless and only lessen your favor with Stark.” Thor squeezed Loki’s shoulder as a warning.

Tony raised his scotch, scoffing at the two gods “You can say that again Point Break.” Now he received a look from Thor. “Oh come on! You’re still upset about that nickname? Listen, it is a HELL of a lot better than all the NC-17 names I have for Professor Snape over here.” He hid his smirk behind his glass as Loki looked at Thor then back at Tony with confusion, shaking his head.

“I understood that reference!!” Steve shouted victoriously from the common room.

“So super hearing is also a thing. Interesting,” Tony muttered to himself before turning his attention back to the princes. “Stark, just... Just give Loki the one thing he wants-”

“And that thing is my daughter?” Tony cut him off in disgust.

He had all right to be protective even if she wasn’t truly his blood. Thor let out an incredibly loud sigh while still gripping Loki from trying to slither away. “Lady Astrid has an effect on my brother. Their time spent on Sakaar greatly impacted his decision to come back to Midgard even after near death.” Loki winced at the mention of near death and cleared his throat as an indication that he would rather not talk about that. “You saw how she-” Thor began again but was once again cut off by Tony. “Fine. Greaseball gets ONE and I mean ONE chance only. He fucks up, it’s all on you bub. I’m watching you with eyes wide open.” He motions at Loki.

The raven haired man sighed almost as loud as Thor “So does Astrid’s mangey feline but with one eye. The mouth on that cat is incredible.”

“Wait- What? Never mind. That makes two of us.” Tony dismissed the gods to help Loki settle in.

That was from what Thor had recollected from earlier events and then relayed the information to Astrid. She shook her head and chuckled at the fact Tony called Loki Professor Snape. The woman continued to run her hands over her body, rinsing the soap off and not even hearing the door open.

Steam hit Loki in the face as he entered the lavish bathroom. He had to admit to himself that Stark at least had style as he noticed a large jacuzzi tub in the corner, the back wall an entire walk in shower with a very expensive partition that planted in the ground and relied on the shower water. The tiling of the bathroom was black with a mix of natural wood for the walls while the double sink counter was a white and gold mixed marble. However, Loki was not here to admire the bathroom interior but rather the person occupying it. Smirking, he took his approach without forgoing clothes... His thirst needed to be quenched badly, his addiction to the sweetest nectar to touch his tongue was insatiable.

“I should probably get out soon before I prune or Kovu drives dad nuts.” Astrid muttered to herself, whining a little as the shower just felt so good. This was heaven compared to the shower she had back in her apartment and the only thing that would make this shower even better was-

“H-Hey!!” Astrid cried out as she felt long arms wrap around her from behind and soft lips on her shoulder.

A familiar dark chuckle rumbled through the intruder that sent heat pooling down between the brunettes legs. “My dear you look absolutely delicious.” Loki softly growled against her bare skin, pushing her hair from the back of her neck and gently nipping at her pale flesh. “Warn a girl next time will you?” Astrid looked over her shoulder then scrunching her brow in confusion. “Loki you’re still wearing clothes... You gonna take em off orr?” She was met only with a dirty smirk and her back suddenly up against the wood wall. “Do not fret over that right now. It matters not.” Loki’s pupils were completely blown as he looked down at the mortal girl. Astrid’s heart raced from the look in his eyes and could feel her folds getting slick at the possible scenarios that may play out. Her smaller hands travelled up his broad chest, his black button down shirt now soaked completely with the rest of his form. They snaked around his neck and her fingers tangled in his long dark locks as he leaned forward to capture her lips. Loki’s restless hands roamed across the woman’s body as the sounds of their kissing followed by soft moans echoed in the room. One of his curious hands slid down her front, over her chest, down her belly, past her hips and eventually cupping her sex; one long slender finger dipping into her. Astrid inhaled sharply through her nose, opening her mouth to let his tongue in. The god hummed in satisfaction at how wet she was for him. His good girl, always ready for him and willing. His beautiful pet. He was intoxicated by her entire existence and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He removed his finger from her weeping hole, stopping their sloppy kiss and sitting on the floor before her. “I had almost forgot why I came here in the first place- I am not only parched but positively famished.” His large hands grasped Astrid’s thighs, fingers digging into her flesh. He gazed up at her with hungry eyes, smirking “Will you help me, pet? Quench my thirst and sate my appetite?” He glanced down at her glistening petals, licking his lips before looking back up at the girl. Loki leaned forward, licking the insides of her thighs while he waited for her answer. While Loki loved it when Astrid used her pretty little mouth on him, he preferred his head to be trapped between her legs while he drank from her honey. There was something addicting about her taste that drove the god insane and made him crave to go on for hours.

Astrid began to shake slightly from anticipation, her naked body sliding down a bit to give the raven haired prince better access to what he desired most. “Y-Yes my prince.” she raised her hand up, biting her index finger as she felt his breath ghost over her mound. The brunette felt him chuckle as he kissed her hip bones, dragging his face downward but his eyes never leaving hers. “Tell me, pet... What are you going to help me with? Use your words, sweet girl. I want to hear you say it.” He grinned at her sudden cry as he flicked his wrist and smacked her ass. Another second went by and with that came another smack to her ass. Then another and another and another until Astrid’s arse was red with handprints. “It is almost as if you want me to keep up with making your behind sore. I am okay with that too but I would rather not starve pet... Do not keep me waiting, I hunger for you.” He teased her slit by barely touching it with the tip of his tongue. “I-I’m offering my pussy to y-you my prince. Please eat my pretty pink- Oh fuck!!” Her eyes flew open as she felt his tongue lick a fat stripe up her folds. Loki practically came on sight in his trousers from the sheer taste of her cunt alone. His cock was painfully hard, but he would wait for that as right now he was focused on the meal in front of him. The god placed his mouth over her mound, dragging his tongue along her hot, wet folds.

The taste on his tongue made Loki push his face further into her pussy, and letting out a moan once he pushed his tongue into her. “Mmm!!” Astrid’s fingers latched onto his hair, tugging it every so often as his molten tongue fucked her. Her chest rose at a moderate pace, droplets of water running down on her shoulders and breasts. She cried out loudly as Loki gave a sharp suck to her clit, and her walls clenching around his fingers when they slipped in. “You like this.” He growled, looking up at her. “You like it when I slip my tongue up into your cunt and fuck you with it. When my lips suck at your pearl and fingers-” He begins to thrust his fingers in and out of her, curling them to hit the spongy spot within her. The prince watched in awe as Astrid’s body shook and her breaths became more high pitched and whiny. “So beautiful... Look at you, putty at my very touch.” He pressed a gentle kiss on her mound, turning his attention to his fingers twisting in and out of her folds. His mouth then ascended back onto her pussy, licking at her swollen nub and sucking it gently while his fingers railed into her. The gods name fell from the woman’s lips in an almost prayer like way, her fingers tightening their grip. There was a sudden cramping in the brunettes back but a delightful building pressure in her belly. “L-Loki please I need to cum, please-” she whined, gaining his attention, “I can’t stand like this m-much longer!!” Astrid squeaked as she felt his tongue go back inside of her cunt. She hated when he would ignore her plea of letting her change positions. “Just a little longer, pet. I know you can hold out for me. Cum with my tongue inside of your pussy.” Loki panted a bit before resuming to aggressively tongue fuck the girl. It did not take very long for Astrid to reach her peak as the gods ministrations became too much to bear. “Fuck!!” she gasped, her legs buckling as her orgasm ripped through her body and Loki guiding her down to the black tile gently as he helped her ride out her orgasm before pulling his muscle out from her. The prince dragged his tongue up her body, latching onto one of her nipples and sucking before releasing it with a pop; doing the same to the other before looking up at her with an intense gaze.

“We are not done.” Loki growled darkly, snapping his fingers and making his clothes vanish. He had enough of wet clothes for today and wanted to feel Astrid’s skin on his. Her teal eyes widened at how red and angry his large cock appeared. The prince stood up, grabbing Astrid’s long wet hair and pushing her face at his groin. “Suck.” He ordered and grinned as he felt the woman’s sweet mouth encase his member. Loki moaned softly at the feeling of her tongue gliding along his length, it had been a bit since she had given him head. The god took her hair in his hands, staring down at her while praising the girl as her head bobbed. “Good girl.. Just like that..” He hissed at the sudden urgency to cum now. Yes he technically would be finishing inside with her mouth on his cock, but it never quite compared to feeling her walls milk him and hearing her scream his name. “S-Stop.” He pulled Astrid off of his raging hard on before transporting their soaked bodies into his own room. As soon as Astrid’s back hit the bed, his lips were on her own in a desperate feverish kiss. The taste of her and now himself on his tongue made Loki groan loudly, knocking the woman’s legs apart. “I want to cum inside of your sweet pussy. Feel you squeeze the life out of me with that tight cunt.” He broke the kiss apart, biting into her neck and shoving his cock inside of her without warning.

Astrid’s head flew back against the mattress as she screamed out in surprise and pleasure. He was so big inside of her, so deliciously big. Loki took advantage of her exposed neck, biting at her flesh and marking her up. “Mine” He began to snap his hips into her, fingers digging into her hips as he practically jackhammered into her. Astrid’s nails dug into his pale muscular back and she held on for dear life as Loki literally fucked her into the bed. “LOKI!! LOKI!! O-OH MY GOD!!” Her nails dragged down his back, drawing some blood from his rough fucking. Suddenly, Astrid was on top, straddling him and bouncing herself on his cock. “Ride my cock. Just like that.” His hands reached up, grabbing handfuls of her generous sized tits. They fit in his hands almost too perfectly. He absolutely loved her breasts and how soft they were. He let go, wanting to see something before he reached climax. “Touch yourself while you bounce on my cock.” He grabbed one of her hands, pushing it toward her clit. Astrid obeyed, leaning back a bit to give Loki a better view as she began to play with her clit, “C-Cum, I need to-” She looked down at him through hooded eyes, yelping as she felt him snap his hips up and hit her cervix. “No.” He noticed that the girl was beginning to grow tired and decided to have her underneath him again. He would watch her touch herself another day when she wasn’t so tired from his brutal fucking.

“Wrap your legs around me.” He muttered against her lips, his eyes locked with hers. “Look at me while I fuck you, pet. Do not look away or you will not come.” He nipped at her bottom lip, noting the desperation in her large deep sea orbs. Astrid’s shaky legs were wrapped tightly around the gods waist, his cock reaching deeper inside of her. “Loki- H-Hold me.” She whimpered, not breaking her gaze and noticing tenderness in his eyes, making his hips falter a bit. “Does my pet want her king to hold her while she cums?” He grinned, picking the pace back up and feeling his end nearing. Astrid whimpered in response, nodding her head “Y-Yes my king!! Please! Let me cum!! Please my king!! Loki please!!” She cried against his lips. Going as hard as he physically could without hurting her, Loki grit his teeth as he felt her walls squeeze him. “Cum for your king.” He growled, watching her come undone. Astrid’s hands held onto his shoulders so she could continue to look into his blue green eyes while she came. The concentrated look Loki once held fell into one of pleasure as his hips stuttered, his hot seed releasing in thick ropes inside of her womb. The god pressed his forehead against Astrid’s, lazily thrusting his hips to make sure she got every last drop of his cum. The brunette weakly pulled Loki down to meet her in a gentle kiss. He would never admit but this was one of Loki’s absolute favorite things after all was said and done. His mind was clouded by the taste of her tongue, making him feel almost as drunk as when he tastes her cunt. Carefully, he pulled out of her and examined his work, chest rising from panting. “Are you alright, little songbird?” He flashed a smile, pushing some hair from the frame of Astrid’s face. “I did not hurt you? Oh.. That is a first.” he chortled at the woman’s shaking legs. “I guess you just fucked me so good.” she giggled softly at his fascination with her quivering limbs. “Like I don’t anytime? Come now, pet. You wound me.” Loki pretended to look sad before getting up and grabbing a damp washrag from his own bathroom. As he began to wipe Astrid down, the two of them turned their attention to a sudden thud in the doorway.

“HOW!? HOW IS IT ALWAYS YOU, STARK!?” Loki threw his comforter over Astrid as she practically screamed in horror. Tony pointed to the door “Dumb ass. You left the door open and now everyone is going to have nightmares of what you and my DAUGHTER.” He pointed angrily at Loki, “Just fucking did!! Literally fucking!! This is disgusting!! I should have never agreed to let you stay!! My day has been officially ruined!! JARVIS play Claire de Lune please. I need to go drink a fifth and try to erase what I’ve just seen.” Tony woefully moaned, dragging his feet away from the mortifying scene. Of course, an entourage appeared with Thor whistling and clapping, Steve’s ears redder than a tomato, Bucky also clapping and thoroughly impressed, Natasha also embarrassed, Vision trying to erase his database, Wanda screeching in confusion and happiness for Astrid, and a dark fluffy mass running at full speed toward Loki.

So what did y’all think o’ dat one!? Lemme know

taglist: @lucywrites02

#loki smut #loki x ofc #loki x oc #my writing #writing #loki fanfic #mcu #mcu oc #smutty goodness #lokistrid #also i love Tony ruining moments like this. i won't do this all the time but i had to

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xplrerdolan · 4 years

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐆𝐔𝐘 [ 𝘊𝘖𝘓𝘉𝘠 𝘉𝘙𝘖𝘊𝘒 ]

⤬ SUMMARY: Colby thinks he may have met the one. Amber is everything he’s ever wanted; he’s never been so in love before, he’s sure of it. And then he meets you—and suddenly, Amber’s once shining colors seem so dull. He knows it’s wrong, but the more he resists you, the more he wants you—and the more he hates himself for it. ➝ NOTE: this fic is written from Colby’s perspective.

⤬ WARNINGS: cisfem!reader, adultery, swearing, consumption of alcohol [reckless; in excess], smut, unprotected sex

⤬ WORD COUNT: 4.5k

⤬ DISCLAIMER: this is a work of fiction. i do not condone the act of cheating, and in no way is this fic meant to glorify or promote adultery.

pinterest aesthetic board // spotify playlist

❋ ❋ ❋

I loved Amber—love her. I swear. Everything from her auburn hair and honey-brown eyes. She dazzled me when we first met, and I want to believe that those feelings are still there. They're just buried... really, really deep.

It was killing me; she was killing me, slowly and torturously. With her claws impaled in my ribs, still sinking, threatening to own every part of me—down to my last breath.

It was getting bad. Or maybe that's just what I'm telling myself to provide me some sense of comfort. "Getting bad" was an understatement; even "getting worse" didn't do it justice. The other night, I did something terrible—so far beyond bad or worse that my stomach clenched every time I thought about it.

For the first time in weeks, Amber and I got intimate. I wanted to remind myself of who I had fallen in love with a year ago. I wanted to pull myself out of the mess I'd made; I wanted to pull Amber right back into my arms and lock her there tight.

We fucked in the dark—my first mistake. My second: I fucked her from behind. Hearing her moans, which normally drove me wild, was making me soft inside her. I didn't give her time to notice. I did the only thing I could do. I twirled her hair around my fingers and pulled her back, lifting her upper body off the mattress toward me. I brought my other hand to her mouth and silenced her. She perceived this as an act of dominance, not of shame.

I screwed my eyes up tight and thought of her. The mere memory of her sent blood coursing through my groin again, making me rock-hard inside of Amber. I focused on the wisps of her image that flashed through my mind as I chased my orgasm so it could all be over.

In the midst of my euphoria, I nearly called out her name—[Y/N]. I felt it teasing the tip of my tongue before I swallowed it forcefully, her name swelling in my throat and choking me. Tears rose to my eyes and I pulled out of Amber quickly, the evidence of my crime mocking me from inside the condom. I pulled it off me in disgust, flinging it towards the trash can and probably missing.

Amber—bless her heart—started to comfort me. "Baby, don't worry," she said softly, pulling my hands away from my face. "Don't be so hard on yourself. It's been a while. I didn't expect you to last long. Besides, I enjoyed myself while it did."

Her smile was so sweet. It took everything in me to not break down right there. I pulled her in for a tight hug to hide my face. I held my breath until the burning feeling in my nose went away and my tears dried. I kissed her cheek, fighting the bile rising in my throat as I did so. It's not that she disgusted me—I disgusted myself.

Without a word I stood from the bed and went to the shower. I turned the tap all the way to the left, the water quickly becoming scalding hot. I forced myself to stand under it, my back arching away from the heat as it assaulted my body. I grimaced as I endured my self-inflicted punishment, grabbing a bar of soap and scrubbing at my skin desperately. I wanted to wash her away. I wanted to remove the layer of skin she corrupted. Twenty minutes and half a bar of soap later, I resigned myself to the fact that it wasn't working. When I stepped out of the shower, my skin was a stark red.

I tried to remember all the pain of that night as I drove to her house for what I promised myself would be the last time.

❋

I didn't tell her that I was going over there to talk. I just told her I was coming over. To be completely honest, I told her instead of asking to feel like I had some control over the situation knowing I didn't. From the moment I'd met her, she had me wrapped around her finger, tucked neatly under that silver and amethyst ring she wore on her left middle finger—the one I'd first complimented her on when we met.

My fingers curled around the steering wheel in response to the flood of memories from that night; her little black dress, shamelessly flaunting her body; her body, the source of my hypnosis, my obsession. Even among a slew of memories I wish I'd never made, I savored the image of her body—covered, uncovered; coated in sweat as we fucked in the backseat of my car, drenched in water as I fucked her against the tile walls in her shower.

That night, she'd walked right up to me and snatched the red-solo cup right out of my hands before taking a long, deep drink from it. In fact, she drained it. The amethyst in her ring glittered as she handed my cup back to me, and since I was already pretty drunk, I didn't pay any mind to the sheer audacity of her careless, crass actions. Looking back on it now made me puff out a dry laugh and shake my head at myself. Our very first interaction was a red flag—[Y/N] took what she wanted when she wanted, and once she got what she wanted, she discarded what she didn't.

If I could go back, I'd say, "Get the fuck away from me." But hindsight is 20/20, and that's not what I said. On my way to incoherence at the hand of alcohol, I slurred at her, "Ni—cool, uh... thingy."

Couldn't decide on an adjective, couldn't remember the noun. Completely helpless in her presence from the first moment. And just like every other time she left me helpless, she just giggled at me for it. She found it funny, the effect she had on everyone around her. Everyone—men, women, nonbinary people, regardless of their sexuality or how attracted they were to her sexually. Every person she touched or talked to or smiled at was instantly inclined to like her. She was the kind of person who made you insecure in your own desirability—not just sexually, but whether people desired to be around you, and if people desired to be your friend. She was the kind of person you craved approval from. You could beg her for it with your eyes, try to get her to say it out loud, but she never budged. She left you hanging, dangling in front of her judiciary stare.

Imagine what happens when a person like that decides she wants more than just the drink in your cup? more than the shirt off your back? more than what you have to give? Here I am, the remnants of an answer.

She informed me that the thingy on her finger was a ring. She held her hand out, fingers sprawled, palm down. Innocently (ignorantly) I held her fingers in mine and gently twisted them, just barely turning them to the left and right, to watch the crystal glitter. Its edges were jagged, the rock as sharp and raw as her sense of humor. I traced the swirls of smoky purple with my eyes, squinting to really focus.

She humored me as I was clearly very drunk. She was feeling the buzz from the drink she'd stolen from me, and she was keen to catch up. When Tara, who had brought her to the party, walked up to her with a cup filled one-third of the way with brown liquor, which I could see from the shadow against the plastic, she was only too happy to take it with her free hand and immediately chug its contents. Rather than cringing from the taste, she stood before me with her eyes closed, humming. I stared at her in awe, my attention ripped away from her shiny ring while my fingers were still wrapped around hers. I only snapped back to reality when she pulled her hand from mine and gently pushed up against my chin to make me close my mouth.

After my mouth was closed, her fingers lingered on my skin, and subtly—quick enough for no one else to notice—she trailed her thumb over my bottom lip. She told me later that she liked the way it always made me look a little pouty, even when I smile. I had a feeling it only did that around her—when I was reduced to a beggar.

Stopped at a red light, I looked into the rear-view mirror and examined my lower lip. I ran my fingers over it, exactly where hers had been, and heaved a sigh through my nose. I could never look at my own lips the same way again.

I remember that I'd tried to tell her I had a girlfriend; I'd giggled it out, sounding like a little boy about to do something his mom had told him not to. Rather than backing off, she only seemed that much more interested. She didn't like being told she couldn't have something. And she'd take it anyway, just to prove she could, just to spite the rules.

She got off on the idea of making a loyal man disloyal. Whether it was to prove there was no such thing as a loyal man or to prove that she could get anyone she wanted no matter the circumstance, I don't even think she could say. It might be a little bit of both.

As I pulled onto her street, I solemnly admitted to myself that she'd done more than prove both, even with me walking away today. Walking away today didn't negate that I'd walked toward her before. The memory of the first time I met her was often revisited with anger; anger directed at her. Until now, I'd blamed her for my actions. But she hadn't been in that bedroom a few nights ago. She hadn't replaced Amber with herself, I did.

I knocked on her door twice. She called back to give her a second, and I could hear her music playing in the background. When she reached the door, she swung it open and posed in the doorway.

An involuntary whine came from the back of my throat, feeling briefly lightheaded as the blood in my body redirected south. I peered down at her over the bridge of my nose as if tipping my head away from her would make her any less irresistible.

She stood before me, dressed only in lingerie. The lacy ensemble was a bright cherry red, the color stark against her beautiful skin. The bralette cupped her breasts as if it were made for her body—and knowing [Y/N]'s tastes, it probably was made for her. The lace detailing continued down over her ribs, and a satin bow rested at the base of her cleavage. The matching panties came up to her waist, and a bow matching the one on her bra sat just under her bellybutton. They were incredibly simple, but her beauty and grace made them seem intricate and complex. What really killed me was the matching sheer boudoir robe, with its satin belt tied around her waist, emphasizing her curves, and its faux-fur trim surrounding her like a demonic aura.

She took my resistance for teasing, giggling at me—or maybe she could see right through me, and she knew I was desperately trying to resist her. And maybe she planned to dress as she had just to ruin me.

But truthfully, that's exactly what it did. And because I'd already accepted that I was a pathetic, weak bastard, I let my resolve crumble. One last time, I thought firmly. One last time and then it's over.

I brought my left hand to her waist, the satin belt feeling like heaven against my fingertips, and pushed her back into her foyer and shut her door, pretending for the moment that she was mine. She was mine and she wanted me as much as I wanted her, and she didn't want anyone else.

My hands moved up to cup her face, my thumbs tracing over her jawline. My eyes roamed her face freely, looking over her features as though I hadn't memorized them already, as if they weren't stained on the backs of my eyelids. Her gaze steadily met mine, a twinkle dancing in her eyes like she knew just how much power she had over me. She knew how weak I was for her.

For fuck's sake, she hadn't even touched me yet and I was already drunk on her. She'd left me breathless with just a look; she'd stolen whatever fragmented sense of control I had left without so much as a "hello."

Somewhere between wallowing in self-hatred and drowning in lust, I pressed my lips against hers, welcoming the sweet torture. Her lips felt softer than the satin draped over her waist. My hands started exploring her body, pushing past her robe to grab at her ass over her panties. While the feeling of it was enough to send a thrill through my lower abdomen, nothing brought me more euphoria than hearing her respond to my touch.

Her moans sent me out of my body; the only thing I cared about was her pleasure and being the source of it. My fingers pushed the red lace to the side before properly gripping the plump flesh, massaging it gently the way I knew she liked. It pleased her enough to earn her fingers raking through my hair, tugging on the little hairs at the base of my neck to make me whine.

It pained me that she had found that sensitive spot of mine in the few weeks we'd been sneaking around while Amber still hadn't found it after a year. My eyebrows knitted together, and I pulled [Y/N] tighter against my body, savoring these last moments of true satisfaction. The friction between our bodies made me harder than Amber had made me in months. Among the embers of my burning lust flared the searing heat of self-hatred; indulging in her made me a masochist to my own sadism.

I guided her backward through her hallways, the route all too familiar. We stumbled into her bedroom, making sure to lock the door—hiding from even the pictures on the wall.

On a less significant day, I'd be ravishing her. But, as I reminded myself sternly, this would be the last day I spent with her—I had to savor it. Despite telling myself that over and over again, the reality of it hit me hard at that moment. I felt myself choke on the emotion, my body betraying me as I felt tears prick at my eyes.

I refused to allow [Y/N] to see it. I turned her around, facing away from me, and gathered myself. While I calmed myself down, I slowly trailed my fingers over her sheer robe from her wrist up to her shoulders, raising goosebumps along her skin. I focused all of my energy on disrobing her, not letting a fraction of my attention slip elsewhere—especially not toward inconvenient, intrusive emotions.

My hands moved to caress the bare skin of her chest, just above her gorgeous breasts. They traveled south over her bust and then settled on the delicate bow holding the garment together. I undid the bow gently, taking my time loosening it. I could tell she wanted me to hurry—she sighed and pressed herself against me—but, just this once, I was going to indulge myself first.

I shushed her softly, drawing the sound out as I brought my mouth next to her ear. I whispered to her, "I'm going to take my sweet time having my way with you today."

She shivered against me, my breath fanning over her sensitive skin tickling it just right. She chuckled softly, an amused smile stretching over her face. She then clicked her tongue and cast a gaze over her shoulder, considering me briefly. Apparently, she decided to play along; her body relaxed against me, allowing me to control the pace.

I carried on with my actions, pulling the garment off at a painstakingly slow pace before draping it over a chair in the corner of her room. Her stillness made her look statuesque; I wouldn't be surprised if she turned to stone right before me, proving to be some artist's rendition of perfection.

"Lay down for me, on your back," I ordered.

She complied. If I didn't know any better, I might feel like I had some control over her, like she was naturally submissive. But the truth was [Y/N] merely allowed others to feel dominant; we both knew it was me who followed her, not the other way around. But for the moment, it was nice that the cat humored her mouse.

I crawled across the bed, pausing to hover over her and steal a kiss. Before I pulled away, she tugged at my shirt by the hem, wordlessly commanding me to remove it. I pulled it over my head by the neck, tossing it haphazardly to the floor. I leaned over her again, my hands on either side of her head, my arms outstretched.

She trailed her nails softly over my arms—always careful to not leave marks—before resting them on the back of my neck, pulling me down toward her again. She kissed me then like I'd never been kissed before: with a gentle passion, a soft intensity. She must have known—somehow, she must've.

When she pulled away from me, I lingered above her with my eyes closed, still processing the complex emotions she stirred in me. As I contemplated this, she pressed another kiss to my lips, this time quick and succinct, a little peck. It was enough to ground me back in reality.

I moved down her body, trailing open-mouthed kisses across her skin. I watched as her chest began to rise and fall faster the closer I got to her core, feeling more pleasure from causing her arousal than I'd felt in my entire relationship with Amber.

I situated myself between her legs, scooping my arms under them so they rested on my shoulders. She shot me a confused glance as I had yet to remove her panties, making me smirk. I blew softly over her covered core, a sensation that would do little more than tease her. She sighed again, a wry smile on her face. I was staying true to my word of taking my time with her.

I closed my mouth over her center, pressing my tongue against it to dampen the lace and taunt her with a feeling just on the cusp of pleasure. I sucked the cloth into my mouth, drenching it further, making sure it just barely grazed her most sensitive spot. She moaned, the sound a mix between pleasure and frustration. She ground her hips toward me, seeking more from me. I felt drunk on her desperation and wanted to feel more of it. I brought my hands to her hips and held them down, continuing her slow torture.

She balled her fists in the sheets, pouty moans falling past her lips. I felt her resist the pressure I placed on her hips, but I wasn't ready to give into her. I delivered a sharp, quick smack to her outer thigh. She gasped, relaxed into me, and let out a low moan.

After another minute of making her endure my teasing, I pushed myself up on my elbows to pull her panties off, earning a sigh of relief from her. I returned to my position and pressed kisses to her skin—along her thighs, in the crevices where her legs met her hips, and all over her mound. Finally, I kissed along her lower lips, starting at the very base and working my way up to the place she needed me most.

I settled my attention on her clit, slowly swirling my tongue around it, earning the tiniest moan from her. I then sucked the bundle of nerves into my mouth to further stimulate her, watching her back arch slightly and pull even harder at the sheets.

I couldn't stop watching her reactions. I felt myself growing impossibly harder at the sound of her moans, the head of my cock starting to throb. I lapped at her ambrosial juices, my tongue roaming the entirety of her pussy. She really started to squirm for me when I slipped my tongue into her, curling it up each time it entered her. After teasing her with my tongue, I brought it back to her clit and moved my left hand to finger her with my middle and ring fingers, sucking on the hardened bundle of nerves while my fingers pumped in and out of her.

At this point, her fingers were in my hair and her legs trembled around my head. She moaned my name in pleasure over and over, seemingly incapable of saying anything else. Her head was tipped back into the pillows, her back arched dramatically. I brought her closer and closer to her orgasm, my eyes trained on her writhing figure, enjoying the view immensely.

It didn't take long for her walls to start clenching around my fingers, a feeling that made my dick twitch in anticipation. I sped my fingers up, curling them up to tease the most sensitive part within her. Her voice broke off as she reached her peak, her hips grinding against my mouth desperately. My fingers worked through her high, slowing down as her body relaxed again. I lapped at her folds for a few moments longer, just enjoying the taste. When she looked down at me again, her eyes were filled with lust and affection.

When I crawled over her again, I pressed my lips against hers in a long, sensual kiss. I felt her push against my chest, wanting me to lay back so she could return the favor, but guilt weighed heavily in my stomach at the thought. As badly as I wanted it, I truly did not deserve it, and I would rather feel regret and longing than even deeper guilt. I chuckled into her mouth softly and shook my head.

"I can't wait any longer," I lied, pulling her bottom lip between my teeth. She moaned softly at my words, her nails scratching lightly over my chest.

I pulled away from her to finish undressing. I kept my eyes on hers, watching her reaction as my cock slapped against my lower abdomen, feeling a rush of lust as she subconsciously bit her lip. I attempted to crawl over her again, but she shook her head, sitting up.

"I wanna ride you," she purred. Another wave of lust washed over me, making me moan softly. I laid back against her pillows and watched her straddle me.

She leaned down to kiss me, grinding her dripping pussy over my shaft as she did so. A strangled moan escaped me; finally getting the attention I'd been craving was enough to make me quiver under her touch. She teased me like that for a while, working me up even more—the sweetest torture.

Finally, she allowed me to slip into her, my eyes rolling back into my skull at the feeling. She let out an erotic moan, the sound mixing with my own gasps of pleasure. I gripped her hips as she worked them over me. My eyes lazily trailed over her body, drinking in the sight of her gorgeous body.

She placed her hand under my chin and lifted my gaze up to meet hers. When our eyes locked, my heart stuttered in my chest. We held eye contact for a long moment, long enough that I felt myself unravel beneath her.

Then, she smirked down at me, a little giggle slipping past her lips. It was incredible how she could do so much to me while doing so little. I flipped our positions, surprising her, making her giggle more. I couldn't hold back a chuckle and a wide smile myself. I swooped down to kiss her before working my hips against hers, the feeling of her pussy around me making my mind go almost completely blank.

In fact, horrible as it was, the only thing on my mind was how much better it felt to be with [Y/N] than Amber.

I dipped my head down, biting marks into her neck—a luxury she could afford. She tugged on my hair, hard; it was the only thing she could do without leaving any evidence behind. I shut my eyes tight, trying to push the image and memory of Amber from my mind at this moment, focusing only on the woman underneath me.

I brought a hand up to grab a fistful of her hair, tugging on it to expose more of her neck to me. I sped up the rhythm of my thrusts, my teeth grazing against her sensitive skin. I felt my orgasm approaching, so I brought my thumb to her clit and rubbed it vigorously, wanting to feel her clench around me one last time.

I knew her body well enough to make it happen. Not even a minute later, the walls of her pussy fluttered around my cock, a stuttering, breathy moan escaping her. The way her legs trembled around me and her hips rolled up to meet mine sent me over the edge, making me cum harder than I'd ever cum before.

I rested inside of her after the fact, my head nestled in the crook of her neck. She played with my hair, humming contentedly as she gave me a moment to collect myself. When I finally did pull out of her, I reached over for the baby wipes she keeps on her nightstand, cleaning myself and her up carefully.

I laid back, opening my arms to her. She curled up next to me, laying her head on my chest. I stayed silent for a few moments, trying to enjoy my last few moments of peace for what they were—the calm before the storm.

When I took a deep breath, [Y/N] already knew what was coming. I explained my feelings to her in as little detail as possible—I was too ashamed to admit to her that I'd been replacing Amber with her in my mind, but I suspected she already knew.

I left her fifty bucks for a Plan B, kissed her once more, and left her house for the last time.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock smut #colby brock x reader #series: where we go #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fic

159 notes · View notes

burnedbyshoto · 5 years

Text

Until The Last One Comes

Kinktober Day 7 ~ kink: overstimulation

pairing: togata mirio x fem!reader

warnings: smut, cussing

word count: 5,740

a/n: SORRY ITS LATE I DIDNT FINISH IT AT ALL LAST NIGHT LMAO IM THE WORST AND THEN I HAD CLASS UNTIL 4 SO... 2 HOURS LATER HERE WE ARE???? also.....this....this is my best I think

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Your eyes locked on Mirio. The two of your mouths pressed into fine lines as you glared at each other.

It didn’t matter that you were clad in only your bra and panties, or that Mirio was only in his boxers. The two of you would not rip your attention away from the other. Eyes focused. Deadly. Sharp.

“I bottomed last time, Mirio.” You say again. Your eyes focused in on his blue eyes. Mirio shook his head as he scoffs.

“You bottomed but still controlled me!” Mirio insists, and your eyes roll. “I get to top again, but get to be in control.”

“Don’t be a brat!” You exclaim, your cheeks huffing as you crossed your arms below your breasts. You smirk as you see his eyes shift hungrily down to your breasts. You lean in closer, in the hope that he’ll cave. “Please let me top?”

“If I get to power bottom.”

“No!”

“Then no!”

The room went silent again as your eye twitched. This was infuriating. The two of you were switches, and typically one wanted to be the top, and the other craved to be the bottom. However, as of late, both of you had been struggling and fighting for the top. Neither one of you liked the act of defiance. Furthermore, after too many bumping head moments, it was surfacing finally.

“Then what are we gonna do?” He asks, his body leaning in towards you.

Your breath hitches as your eyes rack over his bulging muscles. His hand was near your leg, and you stared at his scarred arms. What a fucking tease.

“A competition?” You state you swallow a bit too loudly as you catch the smirk on Mirio’s face as he slides in closer to you.

“I’m listening?”

“Rules are simple.” You say as you shift onto your knees. You lean forward, getting closer to him. Your elbows pressing your breasts closer together. You giggle as Mirio shifts in his seat, his hand close to reaching out to touch your glorious mounds. “We have five days, starting tomorrow. The person to get the other one to come the most within these next few days wins. The winner gets to dom and is on top for an entire week, and the loser has to comply.”

Mirio’s eyes snap back onto yours, a mischievous glint to them. “Any other rules?”

“The first time someone comes, it can’t be through penetration.”

“Alright.”

“It can happen wherever, whenever.”

“Sounds good.”

“Last, but not least,” You say as your lips ghost over his own. Lust filling his eyes as Mirio defiantly continues to stare at you. “If the person doesn’t come, you get a negative point.”

You smirk at his groan, you could always make Mirio come. That was no issue. Your boyfriend was the closest thing to a human golden retriever. At least when personality, energy, and sociable skills get involved. You could always be a bit trickier to get to come. You thought if he was trying to get you off in the middle of an alleyway, it would be hard.

“I can agree with that.” Mirio smiles, his hand extending out for a handshake. You grin as you take his hand, your head nodding. “Until the last one comes.” He whispers and you smirk.

“Have I ever told you how fucking hot your body is?” You question as your lips brush against his sensitive neck, and Mirio chuckles in his throat.

“Good luck babe, but I don’t plan on losing.” He whispers. Mirio gets off the mattress and dresses. His eyebrow quirking at your slightly disappointed stare. “Don’t worry, princess, I’ll have you coming so hard later you’ll be begging for me to dom you.”

“You fucking wish!”

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Five Days Left

Your hand raises during class. You had needed to pee.

“Y/l/n?” Your homeroom teacher calls on you, and you smile with your initial apology.

“I need to use the restroom!” You admit as the class laughs at you. Everyone seemed to be needing to pee today, so with a sigh, you get dismissed.

You scurried down the hallways. Your legs pressing tight as you felt the need to pee growing higher and higher. Making it into the girl's restroom, you slipped into the empty stall. You peed all while humming to yourself, grateful for the lack of anyone in here.

You stood up and wiped, flushing the toilet as someone walks in. You don’t mind much as you walk out, your sleeves rolled up to wash your hands. You wash your hands pretty well, the soap suds still in the sink as you dry them. Your eyes finally trailing to the mirror to see Mirio grinning at you. His arms folded across his chest as your jaw drops. You’re ready to yell at him when his mouth overwhelms you. His lips dragging against your own.

“Mirio!” You squeak against his mouth, your face burning as he guided you back into the stall. His large hands grabbing your ass as he does so. “How did you even get out of class?!”

“My secret ninja skills,” Mirio gasps against your lips and you moan as his hands slip down towards your cunt. His large calloused fingers brushing against your sensitive bundle. You moaned out loud at the feeling. “I'm only kidding, I said I needed to pee, too!”

You inhale sharply when Mirio doesn’t even bother to slip off your panties. He instead uses his quirk to press into your clit. Your body trembles in his hold as your curse his name, the bathroom door locking behind him.

You pant when Mirio’s other hand unbuttons your shirt. His lips never stopping in their conquest against your own lips. You shudder against his touch as Mirio gets your shirt to be completely unbuttoned. Your skin scrawling in the cold air of the restroom. Your skin scrawls due to the heat radiating from both your bodies.

The pressure in your cunt grows as Mirio’s heavy finger is relentless against your clit. Shuddering gasps interrupting your kiss as you clutched Mirio closer. Desperate for contact. Mirio seems not to be on the same page as you, as he pulls away. His mouth grinning wide as he slips off your shirt, and places it on the bathroom stalls hook. His lips are on your collarbones as he takes off your bra, and you cave into his touch. Your voice whining as he pulls away, his features grinning.

“Are we keeping the skirt on?” Mirio wonders aloud, a grin on his face as you can no longer hold yourself back. You smash your mouth against him again. His energetic kisses drowning you in their passion as his fingers dance on your waist. It's not long before slipped back down under your skirt. He pulls down the small pair of panties you were wearing, pocketing them with a grin. “Sit down.” He purrs.

You follow his command, sitting down on the toilet seat, your feet pressed onto the cover as Mirio leans down. His lips pressing kisses to your inner thigh. You shudder against his lips, only rolling your eyes when you feel his proud smirk. “Stop smirking, Togata, and do something about it.” You snap as he laughs. Apologizing to you as he is quick to sink in two fingers into your awaiting cunt.

You gasp at the feeling of his fingers entering you, your mouth dropping as he begins thrusting them.

“Fuck you look so damn hot,” Mirio growls, his lips peppering kisses on your breasts as your hips roll against his fingers. You nod your head in agreement, your face feeling hot and bothered due to the location of your activity.

Everything was turning you on further and further. The way his arm muscles rippled as he thrust into you. The way his typically innocent eyes turned black with lust. The way you knew he wanted nothing more than to stop naked and claim you against the bathroom stall.

You shudder against his fingers. The coil in your lower belly tightening with overwhelming pressure. Your fingers grip the toilet seat cover as you mewl out his name. Your pussy feeling like it’s dripping as you rock your hips against his hands. Your jaw opens and voice panting.

“Your pussy is so fucking right, baby. It’s so wet, too.” Mirio observes, his trademark grin on his face as his mouth nears your spasming pussy. A shriek nearly tears from your throat when the door opens and shuts.

Fire erupts from your sex as Mirio’s hand immediately shoots towards your throat. Choking you into silence as his fingers never once slow down. Your breathing is too strained. Your body acclimating to new levels as he was resilient in his finger fucking. Your head was thrown back as the stall next to you In the middle of getting used. Your desperate eyes snap to Mirio who only grins, his eyes challenging you to make a noise, but you won’t. The girl next door stall hums. It was covering up what you believed was the loud sound of his fingers slamming into your soaking cunt.

“Y/l/n-chan?” The voice asks from the stall next to you as the toilet flushes.

Shit, it was Neijire.

“Y-Yes?” You stammer. Your words are too strained as Mirio refuses to let go of your throat. Your face feeling overwhelming hot as you buck roughly against Mirio’s hands.

“In case you wanted to know—“ The water from the sink goes off. “—everyone needs to pee, so hurry back!”

“O-Okay, thank you!” You cry out your hips stuttering against Mirio’s fingers as the door opens and closes.

You let out a muffled shriek as his fingers slam into you at a vigorous speed. His other hand moving from your neck to stimulating circles into your clit. Your breathing hitches, your back arching, and you come hard onto his fingers. His name a scream from your lips.

You pant from your position, Mirio standing up and pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’ll see you in class, baby.” He whispers and you nod. Your legs shake as you stand up and he kisses you again. “Also, that’s one point for me.”

Your eyes widen as he escapes from the bathroom stall in a heartbeat. Your jaw on the ground as you can’t believe you forgot your little bet overnight.

First Day Stats: Mirio - 3; You - 0

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Second Day Stats: Mirio - 6; You - 3

Highlight:

Your hand stroked Mirio’s length under the blanket. Your eyes locked on Tamaki as you talked with him about the new takoyaki shop that opened. Your eyes were bright as you refused to look at Mirio.

Despite his needy whines in your ear, and the way he had his face buried in your neck, you wouldn’t stop. Your knees shifted under the blankets. This created a large tent for you to get him off while not drawing too much attention.

Mirio hissed into your skin as the tip of your thumb rolled his head of his cock.

“Mirio-kun?” Tamaki finally overcame his hesitation to ask why his best friend was being, well weird. “Are you okay?”

“Never been better!” Mirio grits out, your fingernails gliding against his throbbing skin.

“He was in that fight earlier, it could have something to do with that?” You question, the concern and question very lovely on your voice. “You know how reckless he can be.”

Tamaki nods his head, he knows that what you’re saying isn’t wrong, but he doesn’t quite believe it. His mouth twitches but in comes Neijire.

Mirio can’t focus on anything as your hand continues pumping his length. Your grip mind fogging as he can’t keep from bucking his hips. You glance over as his cock twitches once again, their time enough for you to lose your grip. Mirio grunts as your warm hands clench his cock near the base. Your other hand slipping underneath to fondle his balls. His eyes roll back to his head as you do this, your other hand gripping near his head without mercy.

His hips buck, and he comes into your hand. A muffled moan released into your neck.

“Wow, Mirio-kun are you okay?”

“Never been better…” Mirio huffs against your skin, and you coo pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“That’s three for me…” You grin as you pull away, getting sucked into a conversation with Neijire.

Mirio was for sure getting back at you for that.

Weirdest Place You Had Sex: On the roof of U.A.’s building. It took ten minutes to get up there, and forty minutes to be very much done.

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Third-Day Stats: Mirio - 8; You - 7

Highlight:

In one day, you and Mirio managed to fuck in six different locations. All of which with his fingers shoved down your throat.

The best thing that happened today:

Mirio pretending you weren’t making him come several times over. All while he was on a video call with Hero Agencies.

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Fourth Day Stats: Mirio - 10; You - 12

Highlight:

Your mouth pressed fervently against Mirio’s. Your skirt hiked up to your stomach as Mirio held you again the wall. His cock slamming into your without mercy as your nails clawed down his exposed chest. It was the end of the school day, and after you had gotten him to come three times in the locker room. He had corned you in the classroom after everyone was finally dismissed. His hands slamming you between his chest and the wall, your eyes wide. They soon turned defiant, but it was to no use.

He made little work of you, having no mercy he had made you cum within forty seconds. Mirio wasted no time and soon after pinned you against the wall to continue fucking you.

Your back arched off the wall as his right fingers circle on your clit. His mouth sucking on your throat, definitely leaving a hickey on your neck. You cry out his name as he continues to bounce you up and down his length. His jackhammering speed overwhelming you as your cheeks feel red hot.

Your legs tremble without restraint around his hips. Your core feeling over a million degrees and entirely dripping with your arousal. His mouth intoxicating, his hips captivating, and his cock undeniable. You dug your nails into his skin. You shriek as the building pressure of your orgasm is on the build again. The toe-curling sensation shooting through your body as you shook with raunchy need. The lewd noises of his dick slamming into your soaked pussy making your eyes roll back as you chant him on. The bet no longer on your mind. The only thing fueling you was his slamming body into you, and the release you know is going to leave you dizzy.

You cry as your fingers lock into his hair, your body rolling to help with his rutting hips. They snap into you without mercy, his abs strained and flexing as you run your hands selfishly over them. “Faster, harder, Mirio please!” You cry as your body feels like it’s overheating. Mirio grunts, his hands grasping your waist with enough strength to leave bruises. Your arms resting onto his shoulder as you assisted him in bouncing yourself on his dick.

Heavy breathing fills the air. His gasps and stuttering hips riling the both of you on as you continued fucking. Your head throws back as the pressure within you snaps. You scream out his name, muffled by his hands as you tremble in his grasp. Your head falls against the wall as he continues slamming into you. His speed much slower, the depth of his slams greater as you mewl.

His hips stutter, he presses you harshly against the wall, and you moan at the feeling of him coming within you. The warm fluids filling you up as he pants against your sweaty skin. You laugh as Mirio presses a sweet kiss to your lips, placing you with high caution onto your feet.

“Do I get to count you coming?” You sigh as your body aches. Your smile is sugar-sweet at Mirio who laughs. You watch as he dresses you. You groan as you feel your intermingled cum escaping your still throbbing cunt.

You smile as he presses another kiss to your lips. After awhile you sigh contently as he massages circles into your bruised waist.

“Not at all, princess,” Mirio whispers against your lips and you groan.

“You’re mad that we’re tied now!”

“I am never mad! You can ask anyone!”

The worst thing that happened today:

Your panties falling out of Mirio’s pocket. Someone also noticed the white trail on your leg before you managed to clean it up.

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Final Day: Mirio - 10; You - 13

0 Hours 14 Minutes Left.

You sighed as you entered the bathrooms in the dorm. Your robe snug around your body, your body was sore from a long day of Hero Work. You had spent the night in Mirio’s room, the both of you calling a momentary truce to cuddle that night. It had been sweet and cute. Your body very much so needing the softer version of your boyfriend. At least in oppose to the sex machines, the two of you had become.

Of course, the moment you woke up you were ecstatic! Your blond teddy bear boyfriend was still knocked the fuck out. You slipped out of his cuddle without much resistance on his end and gave him quite the good morning call. He did wake up to his cock in your mouth. His overeager morning sex drive making him cum in less than two minutes as you kiss him morning and left. A giggle in your steps as he cursed.

You were well in the lead now. Given that you hadn’t seen your boyfriend all day, victory was in your grasp. So you were taking a late-night shower to rinse the grime of the day away. Of course, it would also mean that Mirio would have less time trying to get you to come within the diminishing time.

You waved at your classmate who walked out of the shower. She smiled in return as she fastened her robe around her waist.

“Did you just get back in?” She asks and you yawn as you nod. You walk over to the shower stall that was yours. There weren't that many of you so you all had your self proclaimed showers.

“I did!” You say as you place your towel on the hook, your eyes shining with amusement. You were in love with the hero life, it thrilled you to no end being able to save people for a living.

“Alright, well I’m off to bed, I’m so fucking tired,” She says with a wave, and you return it. You turn on the shower water and let your hands touch the running warm water with a satisfied sigh.

Throwing your robe onto the hook, you stepped into the shower, closing the tinted wall behind you.

The warm water seemed to soak all the way through your skin. Satisfied moans leaving your lips as you tilted your head, letting the water soak your hair. You grabbed your shampoo, lathering your hair in the strawberry liquid. You hum a song as you wash your hair, the dirt of the day falling away with every sud. Your fingers scratch your scalp and you sigh at the sensation and your thoughts trail.

You felt bad for Mirio. The disagreement started because you were the one who misremembered your last romp. You had also made him cum four times within ten minutes the other day, and you shook your head.

A bet was a bet, he was losing!

But you did enjoy getting dominated by Mirio, he was rough, hard, and incredible…

You groan as you press your head to the cool tile. Well when you won, you would let him be on top at least once during those seven days. Poor baby would die from being a sub all the time.

Grabbing your conditioner, you pause at the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing. Lathering your hair with the sweet fluid, you pondered who it would be.

Besides the girl who left no one else was ever showering this late, not even if they came back late from patrols. Too many of them fell asleep under the hot jets of water. Neijire almost ended up in the hospital one time… Many stopped after that.

Tying up your conditioner soaked hair, you grabbed your washcloth and cleaned your skin. Humming slightly as you went. Trying to ignore your curious instinct on why a door opened but no water turned on. There hadn’t even been a toilet flush!

Shaking it off, you undo your hair and step back under the jets. A soft sigh leaving your lips at the feeling of the water cascading down your now clean body. But a pair of hands jolted you from your tranquil mindset. You screamed at the sight of Mirio permeating through the shower door. A grin on his face as your mouth opened in protest.

You didn’t get to say anything as his lips slam against yours, “I know you weren’t expecting me to do this.” Mirio growls as he kisses your slick skin. Your hands tremble against his body as you laugh.

Your try getting your hands to his cock, you refused to lose to him now. He would never let you forget it if you got you to come at the very least four times in less than twenty minutes. You were a bit of a challenge to get off, so you hoped it would be your saving grace.

You lean your lips towards him, ready to distract Mirio with your alluring kisses, but he’s predicted it. His fingers sink immediately into your cunt, not at all horny yet. You hiss at the uncomfortable feeling as his finger wiggle within you. You gasped at the feeling of his moving fingers. Your hands slamming against the tile walls as the small movements begin a fire within you. “You know, when you woke me up this morning, I thought I died and gone to heaven,” Mirio whispers against your ear as he presses your heated body against the cold tile. You curse at the sensation, your body jerking against his fingers as you couldn’t move away from the tile. “I can’t lie, I fucking love when your pretty lips are around my cock. You look so fucking sexy it turns me on.” He growls this into your neck, your hips bucking against his scissoring fingers.

“Then let me do that for you t-then, Mirio.” You cry as he chuckles lowly, his teeth biting the skin on your neck.

“Fuck, I wish I could let you do that,” Mirio admits, the heavy truth evident in his tone, but his fingers don’t stop. “You see,” his free hand trails from your waist to your clit, pressing down on your bundle of nerves as you sob softly. Your hands shooting out to him, desperate for more contact. “I just really have to beat my amazing girlfriend in a contest.”

You chuckle, your head banging against the wall as the pressure in your stomach only grows. You can feel your arousal seeping onto his fingers. Your heated arousal turning the both of you as he curses your name. “Y-Your girlfriend?” You ask as nonchalantly as you can, your teeth nibbling his ear. “Do I know her? Would she approve of you doing this?”

“You know her better than anyone in the world.” Mirio groans as his fingers begin pumping into you. Your back arching off the cool tile as you they jut against his moving fingers. “I think she would approve of this.”

With his fingers pumping inside of you, and his fingers merciless against your clit. Your body was reaching its high. Your eyes scrunching together as you feel yourself flushing. “M-Mirio!” You cry as waves of pressure shoot down your legs. Your knees buckling as he continues increasing his pace, uncaring of your shouts. “I’m going to--fuck!” Your body shudders as your orgasm is threatening to spill over. Your cunt is clenching so hard Mirio’s fingers have to shift in your wake. But still, he doesn’t stop. His pumping fingers continuing their conquest. His circling fingers continuing to press small circles into you. “MIRIO!” You scream, what feels like your orgasm hitting, but it isn't and you tremble even more so. Your hands shooting to his as you beg for him to let you release. His curling fingers are unable to give you your desperate release.

His fingers pull away from your throbbing cunt, and you mewl loudly as your orgasm slams into you. It hits you hard! Your pussy clenching in his wake. Your knees almost giving out on you as you feel your arousal slicked against your thighs. But it’s what happens when you orgasm that has you crying. You just squirted all over Mirio’s awaiting hand.

Your head presses against the wall as your orgasm stops, your squirting ending with it. You stare at your boyfriend. Jaw opened as you can’t believe what just happened. Mirio grins at you, his mouth does not hesitate to press full of need against your own.

“That was the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever done.” Mirio laughs against your lips, but you smack his chest. You were very embarrassed, but goddamn was that the most intense thing you’ve ever felt. “That eleven.”

You can not even try to stop him as Mirio sinks to his knees. His back hitting the hot jets of water, as he lifts your leg over his shoulder. “You don’t mind if I eat you out? Do you?” Mirio asks with a cheeky smile. “I’m hungry for you tonight, princess.”

Your hands press onto the tile by your ass as his soft lips press against your inner thigh. His hot tongue lapping at the come that remained on your legs.

“Mirio…” You gasp as he moves further down. His licks becoming bolder, larger, and harder.

Your hips shudder against his mouth as he licks your sensitive cunt. You gasp as his nose brushes against your clit, his blue eyes locked on yours. You bite down on your bottom lip as his tongue enters between your folds. His hot appendage making you squirm as he lapped happily into your dripping folds. “You taste so fucking sweet.” Mirio groans as he becomes more aggressive in his eating you out.

His teeth biting softly onto your sensitive sex and you whine out loudly. Your hips rocking against his face as he stares at you, a lustful gleam in his eyes. You don’t seem to care anymore as your hands grip his hair like a vice, and you shift your hips to fuck his face. Mirio keeps up with an effort to your demanding speed.

The pressure builds up once again at both the sight and the feeling of his mouth eating you out. The occasional slurps and thrusting tongue making you thrash. Both in joy and undeniable lust. You grunt as your pussy throbs, you’re once more on the edge and you want nothing more than to get over it. You cry as his fingers pinch your clit, and it drives you on. Your hips merciless against Mirio’s awaiting face as you make sure he gets face fucked properly.

His other free hand moves to grasp your ass. It slips the first few times, the slick and supple skin unable to remain in his grasp and he growls into your cunt. The vibrations sending you two a whole new level as you shriek his name. Your hips ramming into his tongue as the coil in your snaps, and you come onto his face. You pant heavily as you fall against the tile wall. Your eyes heavy as you stare at Mirio who wipes his face with a large grin. “Thank you for the meal,” Mirio whispers against your mouth. “But that makes two, princess.”

A beep goes off, and the two of you know how much time you have left. Five minutes.

“Five minutes to get you to come at least twice?” Mirio grins as he scoops you off the ground. Your mouth dropping in a soundless moan at the feeling of his large and very hard dick. He is pressing against the entrance of your sore cunt. This could go two ways, and your hips roll against the tip of his head, and Mirio curses softly.

Either he’s got you to come too hard and your body is unable to come any more, or you were for sure fucked.

Mirio presses a capturing kiss to your lips, and he pushes you onto his dick without any problems. But your still clenching pussy has Mirio cursing against your collarbone as you moan. The feeling of his dick stretching you out in the most delicious of ways was mind-numbing. You huff as he begins to move his hips against yours.

“Mirio!” You shriek as he ruthlessly slams into you. His hips coming down so fast your body bounces with every thrust. Your screams tumble out of your throat as your back drags against the cold tile. Your back arching as you shake around his relentless hips.

“What’s that, princess?” Mirio growls, his hips hammering into you at mind fogging speed. “Are you needing to come already?”

“NO!” You scream as your pussy clenches around his pounding cock. You’re able to barely keep your hips in rhythm with him, but you can’t keep your eyes open. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. Your breasts are achingly sweet against his own hard chest. You’re able to feel his cock entering you at toe-curling speeds, and all you can do is accept your fate. “Oh my god, FUCK you feel so good!”

“The way you bounce on my cock is so fucking hot!” Mirio grunts as he releases one hand from your waist. He presses your stimulated nipples between his calloused fingers. Your head slams back, you’re uncaring of the pain the pleasure far greater, and so you scream again. Your pussy clenching with no remorse around his dick. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Do you need to come now, princess?”

You can only nod your head as the pressure continues to build and build.

“Good,” Mirio pants with a grin. “I want you to come.”

“Fuck me, I need to come so badly!” You sob out as your body trembles above his thrusting hips, you’re seeing stars now.

Mirio growls as his hand slams near your head, his other hand gripping your waist tighter. Fuck he was so fucking strong.

That’s all it takes and you come hard around his dick, his name ripping through your abused body as he moans. Mirio grins even more so as your chest heaves with your finished orgasm, but he drops you to the floor.

You’re on your hands and knees, and Mirio’s dick pulls out of your spasming pussy to only reenter in less than two seconds.

“Mirio!” You scream out in almost discomfort. Your body has come hard three separate times within ten minutes.

“I’m winning this,” Mirio grunts as his hips thrust into yours. You cry as his hips slam against your ass, your body moving forward with it.

His hand reaches around your shaking thighs to press firmly against your aching clit. Your body tensing at the pressure. “You’re coming,” Mirio insists, the tip of his finger curling on your sensitive clit. “Do you understand?”

Your pussy clenches at those words. An uncomfortable pleasure shooting down your body as his fingers circle on your clit. Mirio’s body then starts ramming into yours at such a delicious force your arms quivered as they held you up. You were desperate as you tried to keep from falling completely onto the floor. He clenches your hair, tugging it harshly as you cried out his name. Your spasming cunt was once again building in pressure.

You gasp as your hips continue to rock back into his, the rhythm of your fucking making you almost sob actual tears. Mirio growls out your name as he moves his hands back to your waist. Slamming your body at a hot-blooded pace into his hard cock. Your burning face slammed against the cold tile for support.

“God, you’re so fucking, beautiful princess. Spread out with your pussy soaking for me?” Your head nods vigorously, your unsteady pants filling the shower. Your hips are no longer able to keep up with his insane speed. “I want you to come one last time around my cock, can you do that for me?”

A pained mewl escapes your mouth as you nod your head again, “Yes! OH my god!!”

Your pussy clamps around his cock, unable to hold back your orgasm as you hope to hard around his moving dick. You moan out loudly as pleasure-filled waves shoot down every ligament in your body. But as before, it doesn’t happen, and you shriek as fire erupts within you. The sensation now familiar as you beg him to slip out.

Mirio grunts, his hips never slowing down as he chases after your orgasm. Ignoring your pleas. His hips are merciless in his own quest for release. He chuckles at your moans. Your hips weakly shifting back into his until he moans loudly. His cock releasing his hot load into your throbbing and unreleased cunt.

Mirio pulls away, and you once again squirt against his now softening cock. His alarm for midnight blares as your body slides to the floor.

Mirio laughs in mirth at his victory, and you groan as he wraps you close.

“It seems like you’ll get to be mine for the week, princess.” He mumbles against your skin as he reaches up to turn off the water. The two of you laying on the floor, mingling with the water from the shower and your intermingled cum.

bonus!

“You guys are like done with whatever sex competition thing the two of you are having, right?” Neijire asks, her face bright and cheery.

“WHAT!” You shriek as Mirio bellows in laughter.

“Y-You guys were so obvious…” Tamaki sighs, his hands covering his own blushing cheeks.

“We are!” Mirio affirms despite your embarrassment. “I won!”

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rizlowwritessortof · 4 years

Text

Black Velvet - Chapter 7

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2104

Warnings: (for the series as a whole) Demon!Dean (he deserves his own warning, dub-con, rough sex, smut, angst

Baby rocks you to sleep in spite of yourself, and you wake, slightly disoriented, as Dean pulls into a parking space in front of a motel door.

“Have a nice nap, sweetness?” His voice kick-starts your pulse, and everything floods back. Adrenaline works faster than coffee, and you straighten in the seat, fully alert.

“Where are we?” you ask - not that it matters. You don’t really have a choice in the travel plans.

“Honestly, I didn’t pay that much attention. I think we’re somewhere in Iowa. Wherever we are, there’s a lot of corn.” He looks over at you, probably estimating the trouble he’ll have getting you to cooperate – but there’s no fight in you for the moment. “Got us a room. Hungry?”

“Kind of lost my appetite.”

You can see his expression – unreadable, stoic - in your peripheral vision. “Suit yourself.” He gets out of the car and walks to your door, opening it and waving an arm in sarcastic invitation. “Let’s go.”

Your body is stiff from the long ride, and every muscle is taut with tension as you climb out. He shuts the door and latches on to your arm, not hard, but enough to know that if you try to run – well, you won’t get away. He unlocks the door to your room, ushering you inside, and closes it behind him. “Isn’t this cozy?” he remarks, dropping his keys on the table and leaning back on it as he tucks his hands in his pockets, silently observing you as you look around.

You finally turn to face him, your arms tucked around your waist. “What do you want from me, Dean?”

He huffs out a sarcastic little snort, cocking an eyebrow as he stares back. “Oh, come on. You could get laid in any bar in any podunk little town anywhere you went. Why did you drag me along with you?”

“Maybe I have specific tastes.”

“Bullshit!” His smart-ass smile starts to fade, the sparkle of humor becoming sharp with irritation.

“Maybe I’ll regret it sooner than later. But the reason doesn’t matter. What matters is, you’re still mine. I wanted you with me. And I get what I want. One way or another.”

You raise your head, staring back at him insolently. “I don’t buy that. Not for one minute.”

He folds his arms and tilts his head, his eyes narrowing a bit. “Okay, Dr. Phil – enlighten me.”

You fold your arms as well, defiant, refusing to back down. “You couldn’t leave me, because you love me. The part of you that’s still really my Dean loves me.” He laughs softly, shaking his head, but you continue. “I saw it in your eyes. There was a second, when we were… There was a moment that you looked at me, and it was the real you. Deny it if you want, but I saw it. And that was before you had a single injection. So don’t tell me that you can’t be saved. And don’t tell me that my Dean is gone. I know both are lies.”

“You wanna talk about denial? I loved your holier-than-thou sweet little ass riding my cock, damn straight I did. Only thing that disappointed me was that Sammy didn’t walk in on you going to town on his big bad demon brother.”

The sting of his words destroyed any restraint you still had, your temper flaring full force. “You’re a fucking asshole! If you think I’m staying with you, you’re crazy. If you think you’re touching me again, you’re crazy!” You were shouting, fists clenched, too furious to be afraid of the darkening expression on his face.

“You are pushing your luck, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, well, get used to it,” you snap, and turn to head for the bathroom, where you intend to lock yourself in. You don’t make it two steps before he’s grabbing your arm, spinning you around and throwing you against the wall, pinning you with his body, his hands gripping your wrists as you try to fight back. Your eyes spark with reckless anger, teeth clenched as you continue to mock him. “What’s the matter, Dean? I thought big bad demons liked fight in their women.”

A slow, predatory smile slides across his face as he slips one hand under the edge of your shirt and along your waist. “Trust me, sweetheart, I can handle anything you can dish out. And the fucking hell of it for you is – you want it. You can be pissed all you want. But you want me. And if there’s gotta be a little extra foreplay before the main event, I’m fine with that.”

“You are one cocky son of a bitch,” you grit out, your jaw aching from the pressure you’re putting on it. He laughs – actually laughs – and then thrusts against you, and you catch your breath at the hard length of him very evident against your lower belly.

“That I am, sweetness. That I am.” He grins, looking down at you, and then pushes off the wall, leaving you fighting the desire to slide down to the floor, trembling in spite of your rebellion. “Why don’t you go take a nice, hot bath - you’ll feel better.”

“Sorry, I’m a little short on wardrobe changes. Kidnapping is so inconvenient sometimes,” you fire back, but he just smiles.

“Let me worry about that. When you’re finished, you’ll have everything you need.” You stare at him, not trusting him an inch, but what choice did you have? You straighten up, walking into the bathroom with your head held high, refusing to cower before him. “Oh, and don’t worry – the room will be protected while I’m gone. Unfortunately, that means you won’t be able to get out, either. Enjoy your bath.”

You slam the door behind you, cranking the lock, even though you know it will never hold him back if he wants in. There is no response, only silence, and you lean back on the counter, your face in your hands. You grab some towels and the tiny bottles and soaps from the counter top, starting the water running in the tub. You make it as hot as you can stand it, climbing in slowly after shedding your clothes, then settling in and leaning back, your eyes closed. The hell of it is – he’s right. You do want him. When he had you against that wall, what you really wanted was for him to kiss you, hard, and take you right there and then. “What the hell is wrong with me?” you whisper, and sink farther down into the water.

——————–

You stay there as long as you can, nervous about what will be waiting for you on the other side of that door. But you can only hide for so long. And besides, you’ve always been more of a face-it-head-on kind of girl.

You wrap a towel around yourself, holding it tight as you open the door. He’s not in the room, but there’s a mound of shopping bags on the bed, and you approach them cautiously, not sure what to expect.

There’s an entire bag of toiletries – including your favorite perfume. Clothes – jeans, tops, sleep shirts, even a gorgeous black dress. Shoes. A huge bag of lingerie. Nice lingerie, the kind you’d never be able to afford. You stare down at this bounty, almost wishing you had the strength to refuse it. But it was either accept his gift, or wear a towel.

And then you feel his presence behind you, his hands gliding up over your shoulders, squeezing gently as his lips touch your neck. “You like?” You remember to inhale – why are you always so breathless around him? - unable to form a response. “I can get you anything you want, sweetness. We can go wherever you want, do whatever you want. Just say the word.”

It’s hard to form a thought, to focus on anything but his lips against your skin, his hands kneading your shoulders. “Anything I want?” He nods, his breath hot on your skin as he nuzzles against your neck, his lips nibbling just beneath your ear. “How about my freedom?” Your words are more wistful than contentious, and you feel him smile.

He turns you towards him, his face darkly beautiful, dangerous, and you know you don’t have the strength to resist him. “I don’t think you really want that, do you?” He bends slowly towards you, and when his lips touch yours, you melt into him. “I didn’t think so,” he murmurs against your lips, and then he takes possession, sending any coherent thought you had into the farthest corners of your mind. You are focused intently on him, every point of contact between you sending pulses of pleasure to your core, and you barely notice when your towel drops to the floor between you.

With a tiny motion of his fingers, his gifts to you slide from the bed to the floor. He never stops kissing you as he sweeps an arm behind your knees, lifting you into his arms. Another little gesture from his hand turns the covers down, and he lays you gently on the bed. He stands for just a moment, long enough to reach behind him and yank his shirts off over his head, staring down at you intently as he quickly strips down. And then he’s lowering himself over you, his mouth hot and wet as he tugs a sensitive nipple between his teeth before sucking hard, one hand kneading at its twin, pinching until you whimper softly. His other hand moves between your thighs, and he moans against your breast as he glides his fingers through your slick.

He slips two fingers inside you, and you suck in a long, slow breath, your body arching up off the bed. You start to reach for him, your fingers craving to tangle in his hair, to hold him closer, but he lets out a low chuckle, and you realize you can’t move your arms. “No touching. Just be a good girl and take what I give you.” He bites down on your nipple, enough pressure to make you squirm beneath him, and then begins to flick his tongue over the tender nub as he curls his fingers inside you, pumping and stroking within you, brushing repeatedly over that spot inside you that he’s always been able to zero in on, sending sparks through every nerve. His thumb rubs roughly over your clit and you cry out, clenching around his fingers and coming hard, your head spinning, your hands clawing at the sheets.

When you can focus again, he is suckling gently at your over-sensitive breast, slowly removing his fingers from you. He begins to rub softly at your clit, slowly moving his way down your body, stopping to nibble and nip briefly here and there. He reaches the inside of your thigh at long last, and you gasp as he bites down, then sucks hard, marking you. He hums as he cleans the taste of you from his fingers, then puts his face close, breathing deep before running the flat of his tongue over you, his deep groan sending vibrations through you and making you tremble.

“Please,” you whimper as he explores you thoroughly with his tongue, and he laughs softly as you writhe against him.

“I think you’ve got at least one more in you, sweetness. Before I fuck you until you can’t walk straight.” You buck up into him as he sucks hard on your clit, and when you think you can’t stand any more, he nips at it. You scream his name, your voice breaking as you almost sob with the violence of the orgasm that slams through you. You want to crush your thighs around him and hold him there forever, you want to push him away, you want it to stop, you never want it to end.

Your breath is coming in soft little rasping sobs as he eases you down, and he rises to his knees, dragging the back of his hand over his mouth and chin. He stares down at you, almost absent-mindedly stroking his hand over his cock, his tongue playing over his lips as he hums in satisfaction at your flavor. He bends to kiss your lips and then your neck, mumbling against your skin, his voice dark chocolate, sinful and smooth. “You taste like cinnamon, my spicy girl…” He nibbles at your neck, your shoulder, letting your heart rate slow and your breathing calm before he moves to speak softly next to your ear. “And now it’s my turn.”

Chapter 8

#black velvet reblog #chapter 7 #demon!dean fic #demon!dean x reader #dean x reader

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nano--raptor · 4 years

Text

Whiskey Girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (1920’s AU)

Word count: 1687

Warnings: Alcohol mention & consumption, flirting, kissing and making out, evacuating a bar, super brief panic/crowds, more flirting and kissing

A/N: This is a follow up to my drabble Gin Girl, which you can read here! Please excuse any inaccuracies, I did a bit of research, but this is simply for fun. I just needed more of 1920′s Bucky! Thanks so much for reading, enjoy! ❤️

Part 1: Gin Girl

-----

Not too many days had passed before you found yourself back at the speakeasy, practically sitting in the lap of one handsome bartender. Natalie and her man had walked with you to the joint, but had left you alone once Bucky found you through the crowd. You hugged her, and the pair of you giggled excitedly before she left with a wink and a wave. You felt heat rush to your cheeks and butterflies in your stomach as Bucky took your hand and led you over to a table in the corner of the room.

There you’d sat with him for most of the evening, getting to know each other over a few drinks. Bucky’s drink of choice this evening was whiskey, and you were unable to hide your grimace as you sipped it from a mug. His eyes sparkled as he watched you, unable to keep the grin off his face at how damn cute you looked.

“How’s it taste, darlin’?” You winced again, but couldn’t keep your own smile from forming as his smooth words charmed you.

“It’s strong! It’s strong but it’s good after.”

“It burns so good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, eyes wide. “That is a perfect way to describe it!” You giggled and took another sip, the two of you falling into easy conversation. You learned about Bucky the bartender, who grew up in Brooklyn and was so ruggedly handsome that you could hardly concentrate on what he was saying.

The way his hands moved enthralled you, so smooth and casual while he gestured around, topped up your drinks, or propped up his gorgeous, chiseled jaw while he watched you tell a story, eyes sparkling the whole time. His smile made you feel weak again, drawing you in until you were leaning close and your thigh was brushing against his.

You took another sip of the whiskey and focused on the way it warmed you all the way down your throat into your belly. Your eyes drifted shut for a moment and you took everything in in that moment. The smooth burn of the whiskey, the sounds of music and excited chatter around you, the smell of alcohol, cigarette smoke and something else even closer to you, soap, sweat and leather…

When you opened your eyes and looked to Bucky, he was watching you intently. Sparkling blue eyes had darkened and they wandered over you, pausing at your throat, your lips and finally your own eyes. When your gaze met, the corner of his mouth slowly curled into a smirk, and you felt yourself melting under his gaze. It made you hot, your cheeks flushed and you felt a shiver race through your body. Over the course of the evening you’d scooted closer and closer to him, your legs were touching his, and he had his arm draped over the back of your chair. As he gazed at you now, his thumb brushed lightly over your shoulder and you shivered again.

Bucky’s eyes were intense. The look he was giving you made heat rush between your legs, and you had to squeeze your thighs together to try to stop the tingle. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this way over someone. It was as if it was just the two of you here, the hubbub around you from the rest of the joint falling away. You were falling into his eyes, leaning closer and closer to him.

Bucky brought his other hand up to cup your face and stroke your cheek. It felt like time slowed down for a moment, all you could hear was the rush of your heart pounding in your ears. He leaned closer, pulling you in until your face was mere inches from his. His gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips and back again, before he spoke softly.

“Do you mind if I…?” His voice trailed off but your lips were parted in anticipation and you shook your head ever so slightly. Bucky’s hand smoothed along your cheek to the back of your neck and he closed the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours.

His lips were as soft and warm as you’d imagined, and the kiss was gentle, at first, as he tested the waters of being physical with you. You could taste the whiskey on his lips, and the way his mouth moved against yours had you leaning into him, wanting more. Craving more.

Bucky kissed you more hungrily, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip eagerly. Your lips parted and your tongue met his, a small gasp leaving you, turning into a sigh that was swallowed up by Bucky's mouth. He moaned softly into yours in return and pulled you closer, his arm curling around you now. Your hands found their way to his chest and you slowly dragged them upwards, feeling his toned muscles, longing to get your fingers on his heated skin. Reaching his neck, you brought your hands up to cup his face and pull him closer to you as well. Strong hands smoothed down your body to your hips and easily pulled you into his lap. You squeaked in surprise and felt him smile against your mouth.

“You’re the cutest little thing,” he mumbled, and you felt yourself blush, finally pulling away with a shy smile on your face. Bucky watched you with a charming smile of his own. He brushed some loose hair out of your face and gently stroked your cheek, before pulling you close again to taste your lips some more. His arms curled around your waist and held you tightly, and your hands clutched at his shirt, rumpling the collar as your kisses grew more heated.

Soft gaps and moans fell from your lips as Bucky's mouth explored yours. His hand grazed along your jaw, through your hair, trying to drink you in as much as he could in this semi-public place. Your skin tingled and your heart was racing, you squirmed in his lap, his touches driving you wild. Your arms circled up around his neck and your fingertips brushed against his nape. He shivered from the touch and your heart lept in response, you kissed him harder and he rumbled approvingly. His lips curled against yours again and he pulled away briefly to catch his breath, touching his forehead to yours. His breath fanned over your face and you wanted more of him, so you pressed innocent little kisses to the corner of his mouth. He smiled and chuckled at the sweet gesture.

Guiding your lips back to his, Bucky gently stroked your cheek, but it quickly grew heated again. You were becoming more desperate for his lips, his hands, the way he smelled and tasted, and you couldn’t help but press yourself against him. Bucky rumbled again, kissing you harder, one hand tight around your waist and the other fisting into your hair now. Your heart was pounding, everything around fading away, you senses completely consumed by him.

You didn’t notice that the music had stopped playing, or that anything was happening around you until shouts and screams echoed through the pub. Bucky tensed and pulled back roughly, holding you tight against him while his eyes scanned the room. A moment later he jumped up, grabbed your hand and rushed towards the back of the building. Blinking and stumbling over your own feet, everything suddenly came back into focus. People were crowding and pushing, trying to vacate the bar as shouts of “Cops!” replaced the music. You clutched Bucky’s hand with everything you had, trying not to be separated from him in the panic.

It was usually only a matter of time before the speakeasies around the city were found and raided by the police, effectively shutting them down. You hoped Natalie made it out safe, but had to trust that her boyfriend would be looking out for her, the way Bucky was obviously looking out for you. You found yourself grinning despite the panic, adrenaline rushing through you.

Once outside, the crowd dispersed, and it was easier to run properly. Thankfully the other patrons were running off in every direction, so it didn’t matter which way you went, you just followed Bucky’s lead. Winding through streets and back alleys, he led you away from the threat, finally coming to a stop behind a brownstone a few blocks away. At least, you thought it was a few blocks away, you hadn't really been paying attention to where you'd been going.

Bucky leaned against the brick wall and pulled you against his chest, arms wrapped around you as you both tried to catch your breath. He kept looking around, probably keeping an eye out for anyone who might be chasing you, but you couldn't see, with your head buried against his chest and arms wrapped around his waist. You felt safe in his arms, your thoughts still lingering on the heated kisses he'd been pressing against your lips.

"I think we're in the clear," he finally said, softly, as if needing to keep quiet and hide. You hummed against him, and suddenly started giggling, feeling a rush of emotions all at the same time. You tried to stop, but just couldn't. You'd never felt so many things at once, you felt wide awake, excited, alive. Bucky tilted his chin to look down at you, an amused smile pulling at his mouth.

"What?" You grinned and stood on your tiptoes to press another kiss to his lips before more giggles escaped.

"What a crazy night!"

"Crazy good right?" You nodded, once again lost in Bucky's bright blue eyes. His grin matched yours, both of you feeling the high from the adrenaline rush. He hummed and pulled you tighter against him, his body heat warming you in the chill of the evening air.

"Now," he purred, voice low, reaching down to brush his lips against yours again. "Where were we?" His voice was so smooth, and the way he kissed you so deeply warmed you all the way through, just like that whiskey had.

You never wanted it to end.

-----

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #1920's au #1920's bucky #1920's bucky barnes #roaring twenties au #speakeasy #my writing #moodboards #bucky barnes moodboard #my moodboards #fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au

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roselightfairy · 4 years

Text

Plaguelarond, Part VI

Kind of a long one today (oops!) so I’m putting part of it under a cut.

...

Day faded into night, the light through the windows and skylights of Aglarond dimmed and disappeared, and still the elves and dwarves worked on.

Legolas had been in these halls at night before, of course, but never had it felt quite this eerie – there were so few dwarves about that most of the torches remained unlit and only the crystal lanterns gave light, casting a soft greenish glow that reflected strangely off the jeweled walls and cast dappled light across the floors like water.

Or so Legolas saw it when he was out in the halls running errands; mostly he was kept busy in the infirmary. The few hale dwarvish healers had seized upon him as the only elf with any knowledge of mortal illness, and his experience served to guide those of his folk more practiced in the healing arts but lacking in this particular skill. He was kept busy checking temperatures, bathing faces, massaging limbs gone numb from disuse, administering teas that others had brewed – and refraining as best he could from fidgeting with the makeshift mask tied over his face.

And of course he could not leave, not when there was work yet to be done and he had the energy to do it, but he felt the itch stirring within him after it had been dark for at least an hour, the restless urge to be elsewhere. He had had no chance to see Gimli since his arrival; no chance to inform him of where they had all been assigned or assure himself of his husband’s health – and he had never spent a night in Aglarond outside of his own bed. His toes twitched compulsively within the boots he had yet to shed; the swamp of his own breath filled the space between the cloth and his mouth until his fingers itched to rip it away.

It was the feeling of frenetic restlessness that so often made him want to flee whatever situation he was in – but of course now there were more important things than his desperate desire to run. And so he continued his rounds through rows of groaning patients, offered to check on those who were still in their homes, as the darkness faded into pre-dawn grey – until one of the dwarven healers turned and frowned at him as if only now seeing him for the first time.

“Lord Legolas?” they said.

Legolas blinked; though it had only been hours, it was strange to hear his title – to hear himself addressed as anything other than an aid. “That is I.”

“Have you been here all night?”

Legolas turned to look up, and only now did he notice – despite yearning all night to be somewhere else – that time had passed without his attention, that the weak light of dawn had begun to filter into the infirmary. “Yes,” he said. “But – have you not?”

“All night, yes,” said the healer. “Not during the day before. Even we, even in times of emergency, must rest sometimes.”

Their look was pointed, but somehow that permission only made Legolas feel more guilty about how long he had desired to be elsewhere. “Not we, not truly,” he said. “We rest when we have the freedom to do so, but the loss of a night of sleep will do us no harm.”

“Be that as it may,” the dwarf said, “you deserve a brief respite. I am sure the other healers would not begrudge you a few hours of rest, if you go.”

“I” – Knowing how much effort they had all put in, the long hours before his arrival, Legolas could not in good conscience agree. But at the same time – “I do wish to see how my husband fares. If you would inform the other healers I will return shortly?”

“They will be grateful for it, I am sure,” said the dwarf. “But I mean it. Go.”

The permission did not feel like the absolution he had craved – but he could not deny the temptation any longer. He murmured another muffled thanks through his mask; his fingers were already fumbling at the knot even as he turned away – and as he swung open the door to the infirmary, he let it fall at last and drew in his first breath of free air in hours.

Again Legolas marveled at the eerie emptiness of the halls, too quiet without the usual sounds of dwarves stirring and preparing for the day – the first trickles of dwarves leaving their homes for the smithies or the mines or the practice courts; the sound of clanging pots in the kitchens and the retrieval of waste to be disposed of. The light was still dim, but the dawn peeking in was just bright enough to outshine the glowing crystals. And anyway, light or dark, Legolas knew the way to his own chambers as well here as he did in Ithilien.

He had not even brought his bags here, he realized – the elves had all left their things outside the infirmary, and he would have to go retrieve them – but he rarely packed much on visits to Aglarond. His and Gimli’s wardrobe held clothing for him for any season he might come to visit, and their rooms had all he might need.

For all the familiarity, though, he frowned when he opened the door to their chambers. The air felt strangely cool and stale, lacking the warm worn-in feel it took on after a night of sleep. The scent of Gimli’s soap and the smoke-and-metal smell of his discarded clothing lingered, but not freshly. In their bedroom, the bed was unmade but cold, not freshly vacated – and Gimli was not there.

Legolas supposed it should not have surprised him.

The journey to Gimli’s study was shorter than the way from the infirmary, and it was not long before Legolas was standing in front of the partly-ajar door. Gimli would never have left it thus, and Legolas knew what he would find before he even pushed the door open.

Gimli was sitting at his desk chair, surrounded by a pile of papers higher than his own head – or at least, higher than where his head rested. For perhaps sitting was not quite the right word – he was leaning forward, tipping precariously almost out of his chair, his forehead resting on the front edge of his desk, hair spilling over scattered documents. He shifted slightly even as Legolas watched and let out a loud rasping snore.

A smile tugged at the corners of Legolas’s mouth despite himself. He tiptoed forward – it would not do to disturb Gimli now and send him toppling out of his chair – placed one hand on Gimli’s shoulder and the other against the back of his neck, and whispered, “Beloved.”

Gimli gave another sound – a half-snore and a gasp at the same time – and started awake. “Hmmh?” He lifted his head, his face crumpling around half-open eyes. “Legolas?”

“Good morning,” said Legolas. He slid the hand on Gimli’s neck around his shoulders and used the other to brush a stray auburn curl back from Gimli’s temple. “Or perhaps I ought better to say good night. I think it is bedtime for you, my love.”

“Bedtime?” Gimli echoed. “But – morning.”

“Morning indeed, but you have not seen your bed all night, have you?” Legolas did not wait for Gimli’s response; he could only do such things when Gimli was tired enough to be pliable, but he half-lifted him out of his chair and pulled him against his side. Perhaps if he could guide Gimli to bed before he woke fully, he might spare himself the argument. “So you must make up for it now.”

Gimli moved with him as he walked, but it would be only a matter of moments before he began to resist. “But . . . the papers.”

“Can you finish them now, when you are so tired?” Legolas eased Gimli’s study door closed behind them and fished in Gimli’s pocket for the key to lock it. “If your dwarves may tell me to go to bed, then I may tell you.”

“You are here to help,” Gimli mumbled. “Not your responsibility.”

“And it is your responsibility to stay up all night?” Legolas clucked his tongue softly. “I seem to recall you being most prudent many years ago when we had to decide between sleeping and running. What has become of that dwarf now?”

Gimli scoffed, some clarity returning to his voice. “And I seem to recall an elf who insisted that running all night was the better solution.”

“We all must bow to wisdom sometimes,” Legolas said. “That time, it was yours. Anyway, I rested very recently and yet have the energy to assist. You – how long has it been since you slept in a bed?”

“It is my colony,” said Gimli instead of answering directly, “and these are my people. I can do no less than my best for them.” He twisted to glare up at Legolas even as they rounded the last corner towards their chambers. “I know you would do the same for Ithilien – I suspect you will do the same for Aglarond.”

“Hmm.” Legolas led him into their rooms. How was it that they felt so much more hospitable now that he entered with Gimli beside him? “That is why I said we all must bow to wisdom. I do not claim to dispense it regularly, but today . . .” He rummaged in their closet for Gimli’s favorite sleep shirt; Gimli merely stood in the middle of the room, his unfocused gaze directed somewhere off into the corner. “Today you clearly need it.”

Even had he not already known he was right, Gimli’s reaction would have revealed it now; instead of fighting, he merely stood passively and allowed Legolas to disrobe him, his motions sluggish with sleep. “You are right that wisdom of this sort is not your usual purview,” he said, and then yawned. “I feel that our roles here are too often reversed.”

Legolas smiled. “Well, perhaps I have learned something from you after all,” he said. “Or perhaps it is simply my turn.” He tossed Gimli’s clothing aside – he would clean it up later – and pressed his husband into bed. “Now,” he said. “Sleep.”

#my fic #plaguelarond #covid inspired writing #legolas x gimli #in which gimli is a bureaucrat #and legolas is a first responder #and they both suffer

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