Random sexy HCs for random sbr characters because no one else will feed me
-Johnny is very sentimental during love making and needs to hold you close. He'll have you sit in his lap with your chests pressed into each other
-Bug bites are a kink but he also loves taking care of them for you :) hand him some cream and he'll gladly help massage them into your back while playing with any bumps he finds.
-Actually prefers giving head than getting head. He's a little rusty but it makes him feel more confident in himself
-Far too soon after his legs started working again he tried sex standing up. He fell on his ass
-Gyro is a god at oral, but he sucks and prefers getting head instead
-A true switch and I refuse to believe otherwise. His hair is his lever
-Speaking of, loves to pull on your hair though
-Has a thing for hickeys and leaving lipstick stains
-Kinky bastard but his favorite position is missionary
-During sex it's not uncommon for Scary Monsters turn Diego. Most of the time it's not anything terrible but he gets drool everywhere
-Sounds like a horny alligator when it happens
-Secretly loves being babied and is a totally pillow prince if you'll let him be. Craves the attention and gets him in a softer mood during aftercare
-Wants a really big family and sucks at pulling out. Good luck with him
-Blackmore bites. A lot
-Starts off being a pretty big bottom but once you give him a chance on top he never wants to stop
-His favorite position is the mating press 馃槒
-Has the cutest moans, they come off a little squeaky and sometimes his voice cracks
-Covers up every bite with an extra sweet kiss <3
-Has the prettiest hair too don't fight me on this it's canon
-Sandman is definitely a virgin. At first
-A virgin with major stamina
-And he's eager to please
-Because of the braids his hair always comes out in tight waves
-The carpet matches the drapes
-Bath sex 馃憣
-Ringo refuses to have sex anywhere that isn't a bedroom
-Lowkey kinda possessive 馃槼
-Gun kink? Maybe? He likes when you give him head while he's cleaning his guns definitely tho 馃憣馃憣
-100% shaves a skull into his hair down there too
-He's cute and caring when he wants to be
Give me more characters
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delightfulprincesoul 7 months ago
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marciedc 12 days ago
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host-club-hq 6 months ago
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鉃 pairing: kyoya ootori x reader
鉃 summary: you and kyoya are subjected to an unfavorable fate via your parents, but when the both of you become vulnerable, you close back up just as quickly. (i don't know if i wanna end it here, but idk if i can write more. you guys lemme know if you wanna see more of this drabble)
鉃 word count: 7.4k, got a little carried away
鉃 what to expect: "It'll be mine soon enough, might as well use it."
鉃 warnings: slight angst, mutual pining, slow burn, steamy, language
鉃 im actually supposed to be writing an essay right now but i have kyoya on the brain, so here's this :) also tumblr ate half this draft as i was almost done, so you can thank them for this taking so long
鉃 chapter navigation
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You wouldn't call your parents... neglectful, per say.
More of just... inattentive.
Although they support your lavish lifestyle and provide you with many of your wants and all of your needs, they never seem to know you personally.
It's always been like this. It's not your father who drives you to school, it's your driver. Although that isn't unusual for a kid of your financial status, there are some things that your parents don't do that they should.
There's a syllabus or permission slip you need signed for school? Your head butler, Ren, signs it for you. Your parents have appointed him your caretaker, never mind the fact that they were actually present in your life. On the school emergency contact list, Ren's name is the only one present.
Well, not the only one. Your aunt volunteered. Although she's usually very busy, she felt sympathy for the way her sister and brother-in-law have raised you.
You have a personal shopper. Although your parents never believed in needing someone to dress you and do most basic human functions for you, you need someone like a motherly figure to shop with you.
She helps you pick out your clothes, try things on, encourages you when she sees something she likes, advises you on what to pair together and how to style accessories.
Her name is Lindsay, you enjoy her presence often, which is why you shop often, even if you don't purchase anything.
Only once did your parents hire a professional to teach you how to do your own hair and makeup. But, that was a one time thing. One lesson was all your parents believed you needed, if even that. The next day you were expected to remember everything she'd breezed through.
Not surprisingly, you did.
You parents were not your mom and dad, rather your mother and father. To you, there is a very clear difference between the terms.
A mother and father biologically have a child together, a mom and dad parent a child together.
You didn't even know your parents' real names until you were 11 years old.
And it was Ren who'd told you when you asked.
鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾
"Miss y/n?"
You're busying yourself with homework when Ren calls your name from the doorway to your bedroom, already open.
"Hm?" When you acknowledge that it's him, you return to your writing and vaguely listen to what he has to say.
"Your... parents would like to have a word with you."
Your pen stills in your hand mid-word. You crane your neck over your shoulder and stare blankly at Ren, in disbelief. He nods in reassurance.
You shoot up from your chair and dart into your closet, picking a modest pair of earrings and a necklace. You stand straight in front of your mirror and dust yourself off, spinning around to face Ren.
"How do I look?" you breathe out slowly.
Ren steps forward and gently takes two strands of your hair on either side, adjusting them softly.
"Wonderful. Now, they're waiting." Ren pats you gently on your shoulder. You squeal to yourself and hurry into the living room with a skip in your step.
You arrive into the living room and compose yourself, watching as you parents stand professionally in the center of the room.
You inhale deeply and straighten your posture, folding your hands in front of your body and waiting to be spoken to.
"y/n, we have a matter to discuss with you." Your father speaks first, your mother on his arm.
"Yes?" You reply timidly.
"As you may know, we have recently entered a business relationship with the Ootori family." your father informs, but unbeknownst to you, quite grimly.
"You may know their son, Kyoya Ootori." your mother adds quickly.
"Yes, ma'am, he's in my class." you nod curtly, taking another deep breath.
"That's good, because you will be married to him in less than a year."
Your face pales and you stop fidgeting with your fingers, "What?" your voice is no more than a mere whisper.
"In order to secure the deal, Yoshio Ootori would like to marry off his third son in order to merge our companies, seeing as his older sons are already engaged and/or married."
"And, seeing as you are our only daughter, we offered your hand in marriage."
"You don't have the right to offer my hand!"
Your sudden outburst is seemingly unwelcome, judging by your parents' expressions. Your voice echoes off the living room walls from the mere size. There is a painful moment of silence.
"What's done is done, you will be married to Kyoya Ootori by December of this year." Your father extracts his phone and beings to distract himself.
"It's April." you inform like it wasn't a well known fact. April seems so close to December for you, especially if you will be married by then.
"And?" Your father lifts his cell phone to his ear, giving you once last emotionless glance, then strides from the room with a greeting to the individual over the phone.
Your mother's eyes display the smallest amount of sympathy before following your father wordlessly.
This year, you and Kyoya will be finishing your last year of high school. You will turn 19 by the end of the summer, and Kyoya already is. He'll be turning 20 in November. A month before you're married.
You always knew you would marry a wealthy man, especially because of your parents' bizarre expectations, but you always thought it would be because you loved him.
You should have seen this coming. Marrying you off is exactly something your parents would do.
Your world is falling apart.
鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾
School the next day is excruciating, to say the least.
You're constantly steering clear of the Host Club, especially Kyoya in particular. He, of course, would know of his father's decision. You can't think to face him like this.
You and Kyoya are friends, alright. Not obscenely close, but not strangers either. He knows of you, talks with you, and invites you to the Host Club on different occasions, sometimes to their private events.
How could you face him now? Your fianc茅? The word makes you shiver, especially when you think about spending the rest of your life with him.
The bell rings abruptly in your ears- you've zoned out. You shake yourself from your thoughts and gently push your notebook into your book bag. Most students have already packed their belongings and strode out of class.
You freeze mid-shove. You turn slowly at the voice, acknowledging the tall male with jet black hair. You immediately know who it is, reluctantly glancing at your reflection in his thin, shining glasses.
"Hm?" You reply shortly.
"The Host Club is hosting an event to celebrate the end of our last year in high school. Seeing as you're in our class, I thought you might like to attend."
Ah, so he's asking you as a student. Not a friend. While you're slightly disappointed, you're also relieved.
"How should I dress?" You ask, slinging your bag over one shoulder and standing timidly to face him, refusing to let your eyes rest comfortably on his face, rather the wall behind him.
"Formally, as most events directed by the Host Club tend to be."
That seems like a backhanded statement. You frown. "Fine." you huff definitively, spinning on your heel with your head help high, nose stuck up into the air.
"What time should I pick you up?" Kyoya asks like it's the most casual question in the world. Really, it should be, but it isn't.
"You're picking me up?" You halt in your tracks to face him in confusion.
"Of course, how else would you be getting to the function? I thought since we're to be married, we might as well make our parents happy and spend more time together."
A beat of painful, agonizing silence. Kyoya knows. He knows to a degree that this isn't what you want, and on some level, he doesn't want it either. He's lived his whole life pleasing his father, and nothing's going to stop him now.
You grip the strap of your bag tightly, tears pricking your eyes when reminded of your inevitable fate. Neither of you move to leave, or to speak. Just a very uncomfortable silence.
"Might as well." Your voice is squeaky from lack of use, you clear your throat.
"Any time past 5:00 is fine." you breathe out as quickly as possible, whirling around to make your exit, bringing a single finger up to your face and dabbing gently under your eyes as you scurry away.
Kyoya remains silent and emotionless, his expression unchanging. Although he feels a twist deep in his stomach when he noticed you drying your tears. He never meant to put you in this position, but it wasn't his fault, was it? No. He hadn't had a choice either.
But you both will do anything to please your parents, won't you?
鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾
You slide your hands over your hips, the sleek, black dress with a plunging neckline accenting your body wonderfully. The material clings to your body, all the way down to the slit that travels as far as your upper left thigh. Very classy, yet sensual- just what you're going for.
You adjust your earrings, your necklace matching perfectly. A knock comes to the frame of your doorway and you acknowledge it by swiveling, your hands occupied with your earring.
Ren stands fondly at the entrance to your room. "I believe I caught word of Mr. Ootori arriving here soon." he smiles knowingly.
You give a weak smile in return, clasping the back of your earring in place and dusting yourself off.
"Your evening clutch, Ma'am." Ren presents you with a stunning silver bedazzled, strapless hand bag. Your grin widens.
"Is this Aunt Elise's?" You recall her wearing it to a fair few events and occasions. Ren nods. Your heart swells with appreciation.
"She thought you might like to use it tonight." Ren informs you. You nod, turning the precious accessory over in your hands, marveling.
"Now, he will be arriving soon." Ren pats your back as you shove a few last minute things into your clutch. You carefully stride to the door in your heels.
When you open the door, Kyoya's just now arriving. It would be traditional for the gentleman to come to the door to pick up his lady, but you've had enough of doing things the traditional way for now. You will make your own decision, this time.
You watch the sleek, black limousine come to a clean halt near the steps leading to the entrance of your home. The windows are tinted, but you can still make out a silhouette in the back, neck craned down, a slight glow. He's on his phone. On cue, your phone vibrates.
Kyoya: Are you ready?
You scoff mockingly to yourself, replying.
You: If you bothered to look up, you would know
The silhouette moves, facing you. You make a show of descending the steps, your hips swaying, heel to toe, heel to toe.
The limousine door opens and you're met with Kyoya in a clean, crisply straight black suit, black undershirt, and black tie to match. If it weren't for you new-found confidence, your jaw would have hit the ground by now.
"You look stunning." Are the first words he greets you with. Your cheeks flush a red hue under your makeup.
"Thank you. I like this suit." You adjust his collar with your fingers and gleam up at him. He offers a small smile in return.
"I had a feeling you'd want to wear black. Shall we?" He offers you his arm politely. You nod, slipping your hand and wrist through the gap between his arm and his body.
Being this close to him, you can smell the cologne he wears. The scent is inexplicably addictive, unmistakably him, like a warm cup of coffee, but like spicy cinnamon at the same time. You inhale deeply, savoring the fragrance.
It seems like a thousand steps from your front door to the limousine in the heels you've chosen, but you find relief in the plush leather seats as Kyoya escorts you inside.
"Comfortable?" He shuts the door and settles in next to you.
"Mm, wouldn't you like to know." you cross your ankles delicately and fold your hands in your lap, back straight.
"Alright, I see how it'll be tonight." Kyoya suppresses a smirk and straightens next to you.
The entire ride consists of a surprisingly comfortable silence. It's not often that silence with Kyoya is pleasurable, but neither of you feel the need to say anything amidst the quiet nature of the car.
When you arrive, anxiety fills the cavern of your chest and you feel as though it's constricting. The limousine comes to a perfect stop at the entrance to Ouran Academy's ball room. You know the room very well. Although now, it seems unfamiliar, like you've never stepped foot inside all your life.
The open doorway is decorated with lights and silk banners as students file in with their partners, some individually.
You haven't noticed that Kyoya has opened the door and is offering you his arm to pull yourself up and out. He allows you to hesitate a moment longer, then clears his throat gently.
"Is something wrong?" His voice is soft and concerned.
"No." You reply immediately, gripping onto his arm and pulling yourself out.
You're half expecting paparazzi's cameras to flash the moment you exit the automobile from the way you're dressed and the stunningly handsome man who's arm you're attached to, but you're thankful that it doesn't happen. You're not sure you want this night documented just yet.
As the name of your purse suggests, you clutch it tight as you stride with Kyoya up the stairs. Naturally, the pair of you have arrived a bit early, seeing as he is part of the club that is hosting the event. Nevertheless, the early birds are starting to arrive as well.
Kyoya is starting to think this might be the event he's been the most nervous for in a long time. Having someone as astonishing, stunning, and captivating as you on his arm? He might be the luckiest man alive. Despite this fact, he remains poised and elegantly emotionless.
He manages to sneak a glance of your side profile, your features remaining unfazed and stoic. He adjusts his glasses with his free hand, the lenses giving a sharp glint from the light of the chandeliers looming above him in the ballroom.
You and Kyoya are greeted with the remaining hosts as they've all seemed to have arrived quite some time ago. Unusually, the rest of them are without dates. Although, you assume Tamaki would have a date if Haruhi wasn't expected to be a male host for this occasion.
"y/n! So glad you could make it! It's so nice to see you!"
You should expect what Tamaki does next- embracing you unabashedly and gripping you tight. You grunt and stumble, reciprocating as a reflex.
"Nice to see you too, Tamaki." Your voice strains as he releases you and you take a deep breath.
"Senpai, if you want to see her again, you'll have to stop suffocating her." Haruhi deadpans behind him. You giggle at her comment. She beams.
"Can we steal her? Please, Kyoya?!" Tamaki begs pitifully with his infamous puppy eyes. Kyoya does all but give in, sighing.
"You can. I'll just be going over some last minute preparations if you need me." Kyoya directs his last statement your way. You nod.
Tamaki tugs on your arm and you allow him to drag you behind him, vaguely listening as he goes on and on about how much he's missed you. Haruhi trudges behind the two of you, grumbling.
As Tamaki steals you away to mingle with the rest of the hosts as Kyoya tends to his responsibilities, the party begins to fill out, guests arriving left and right.
The party is now in full swing. Kyoya is still tending to guests and budget related issues. You've gone to procure yourself a drink, leaning as lady-like as you can against the beverage table and sipping quietly.
Out of thin air, two arms perch themselves on either of your shoulders. You choke on your drink and pat your own chest, coughing.
"Whoa there, y/n." Two voices harmonize in either of your ears.
"Hello, boys." you sigh, letting your shoulders slouch under the weight of their arms.
The twins snicker deviously on your right and left, dressed identically.
鈥淪o what鈥檚 this rumor about you and Kyoya-Senpai?鈥 you can only guess which twin is speaking to you, although you determine that that鈥檚 not what鈥檚 important right now.
鈥淒epends, what did you hear?鈥 You glance up at who you can only assume is Hikaru.
鈥淥h, so it鈥檚 not the only rumor?鈥 the second twin infers, and you turn your head to him.
鈥淭hat鈥檚 not what I said.鈥 You shake your head, cup balanced in your hand.
鈥淏ut it鈥檚 what you implied.鈥 Both of them together, this time.
鈥淲hat do you want to know?鈥 You take a long sip from your drink, eyeing them in your peripheral vision. They both turn and gaze at your side profile with mischievous smirks.
鈥淲e heard that you might be engaged-鈥
鈥-so we鈥檙e wondering where the ring is.鈥
You snort at their question. They tilt their heads, confused. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 have a ring.鈥 you flourish your left hand, which has three rings, but none of them are on your ring finger.
鈥淭hat seems a little untraditional, doesn鈥檛 it Kaoru?鈥 Hikaru hums.
鈥淚t does, Hikaru.鈥 Kaoru nods. You laugh humorlessly, 鈥淵ou鈥檙e telling me.鈥 your shoulders almost shake with your laughter.
"We wouldn't peg Kyoya-Senpai to skimp on an engagement ring for his fianc茅." The twins shrug in unison. You grimace.
"Please don't call me that, it makes me feel old." your body shudders involuntarily, the twins' brows furrow further, now more confused than ever.
"You should be glad that you'll probably never have to subject yourself to something like that." You sigh wistfully.
Before Hikaru or Kaoru have a chance to reply, your eyes find Kyoya approaching the three of you. You breathe a sigh of relief and set your drink on the table behind you.
"Hikaru, Kaoru, would you mind if I stole y/n away a moment?" He asks politely, offering you his hand.
"Not at all." The twins shove you forward and you lurch, your reflexes causing your hand to find its place firmly gripped in Kyoya's.
You're gently pulled to the center dance floor, your arm instinctively placing itself on Kyoya's shoulder and the other in his hand. His own hand secures around your waist and holds you reasonably close, but not close enough to cause suspicion among guests. He is still a host, after all. He can't be showing any favoritism.
"Just wanted to dance with me, Ootori?" You question in the silence save for the orchestra playing beautifully in the background.
"Only using my last name now? y/n, I thought we were friendlier than that." Kyoya dodges the question expertly.
"It'll be mine soon enough, might as well use it." using humor to avoid pain, often a tactic of yours. Kyoya smiles nonetheless.
"Touch茅, well played." Kyoya smirks as you sway together.
Meanwhile, Haruhi approaches the twins, arms crossed.
"It's awful, isn't it?" she jumps into conversation without context.
"Awful?" the twins follow her eyes to the pair of you, moving rhythmically to the music.
"Yeah, I can't even imagine." Haruhi's reply is vague, confusing the twins further.
"Hikaru, Kaoru, Haruhi! What are you doing over here, we have guests waiting." Tamaki all but storms over to the trio and points to the meandering patrons.
"Just watching Kyoya and y/n-Senpai." Haruhi shrugs. She prays she won't be pushed onto the dance floor by her boss at this moment.
Tamaki follows her line of sight and finds the two of you as well, eyes softening. He settles for watching the pair of you along with the other hosts.
"I still can't believe I wasn't the first person Kyoya told." Tamaki pouts with his arms crossed against his chest, slouching.
"What are we missing here?" Hikaru demands, having had enough of being oblivious, Kaoru voices his agreement.
"You didn't know?" Tamaki cranes his neck to catch a glance of the infuriated twins.
"Kyoya-Senpai and y/n-Senpai's parents are becoming partners and they're expecting them to get married." Haruhi informs grimly.
Hikaru and Kaoru glance at each other with shock, then back at the pair of you. Although you're talking to Kyoya casually, with the new information, they see you in a different light.
"Oh." Is all they have to say.
"Do you think they'll be okay?" Haruhi blinks owlishly up at Tamaki in question. He casts his eyes down to her own, then back to you.
"I think it'll take a while. I don't even think they know." it's one of the rare occurrences when Tamaki's wisdom shows through his facade.
"Know what?" Haruhi inquires again, following his sight.
"Look at them." Tamaki gestures with his arms to the both of you.
On cue, you shove Kyoya playfully and he only smiles down at you, his eyes shimmering with something undetectable.
"There's something there. But, as stubborn as Kyoya is, there's no use in trying to tell him. They'll have to figure it out on their own." Haruhi watches Tamaki's soft eyes follow your form, darting back and forth as you dance.
And slowly, the world feels as if it's falling away. Piece by piece, the party in the background, the guests and other hosts fall into nothingness, and you're dancing among the stars, weightless and effortlessly. The orchestra continues it's smooth rhythm, echoing through the universe. All that's left is you and Kyoya, and you don't even seem to notice.
That is, until you do notice.
You realize the proximity, the way he delicately grips your hand and your waist. Your breath gets caught in your throat and you have the sudden urge to pry yourself away.
"I'm- um, I need to powder my nose." You lean back, removing your hand from his shoulder.
Kyoya raises a single brow. It's the middle of a song, but he can sense the sudden panic swimming in your irises. He releases you gently.
"Alright-" but you're already gone, weaving through guests and other hosts and slipping from his vision.
And so Kyoya stands in the midst of gyrating bodies and blinding lights, watching you disappear in the crowd. But, it isn't long before a few guests approach him.
"Kyoya~ Would you mind if I stole this dance?" another girl peers at him from behind the first one, anticipating his reply.
He gives them the most polite smile he can, as genuinely as he can, but inside he feels the opposite. "Of course, my dears. That's what I'm here for." he takes her into his arms and begins to sway to the rhythm.
But it's not the same. Although he's doing his job and he's never had a problem with it before, it doesn't feel right. She doesn't fit into his arms like you do, like a long lost puzzle piece finally slotted into the right position. She feels... wrong, for lack of better words.
Nevertheless, he is a host, and a host exudes chivalry.
鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾 聽 聽 聽 聽鈾
Never have you struggled like this over an assignment. Naturally, most of your classes come easily to you, and that's why you guess that you and Kyoya get along easily.
But this is different. Your college essay. Academically, you can write sophisticated essays about most topics. But, when it comes to yourself, you have little to say.
You stare at a blank page, your cursor flashing without a purpose. You lay comfortably on your bed, blinking owlishly at the white screen. Not a single idea has popped into your head. What are you even supposed to write about? Why can't you just pick an academic topic and write about that?
Of course, for middle school or even early high school, you've written ice-breaker papers about things the teacher wanted to know so that they could teach the class with prior knowledge- but this is requiring to delve deep into your inner soul, you don't think you've ever even done that yourself.
You reluctantly pick up your cell phone and select a contact that you assume won't answer at this time. It's late.
Meanwhile, Kyoya's cell phone rings suddenly. He shamefully admits to himself that he's startled by the bright light and sudden noise. Once it registers in his mind, he puts down his book and picks up the phone instead, reading off the contact name.
y/n l/n
He thinks for a moment that maybe he should add something more to your contact name, but the thought vanishes as quickly as it had come to him. Kyoya answers.
There's a silence on your end. You hadn't been expecting him to pick up.
"Hi." is all you can manage.
Kyoya firmly resists the urge to chuckle fondly, but replies semi-mockingly instead, "Hi, y/n."
"I, um... I need help," you sigh in reluctance.
"May I ask with what?" he hums in reply, saving his place in his novel and setting it to the side, focusing on his gentle conversation with you.
"College essay..." you almost whine, almost ashamed.
Kyoya furrows his eyebrows on his side, "Isn't it a little late for college essays?" He has already submitted and been accepted into to a college- Chiba University.
"I know... I just, I think I'm going to take a break next year. I need some time off." You sound exhausted. Kyoya almost cringes in sympathy.
"That's understandable. Besides, it's not like you'll need to support yourself once we graduate."
A stinging reminder of your future after high school. You do suppose you can consider yourself lucky, he's right. You don't have to support yourself, and you don't even need a college education if you really think about it. But, you want one. For you, not for him.
"I guess you're right." you lay back on your bed loudly, sighing.
"I'll come over and help you, yeah?" Kyoya hoists himself off his bed and slips into his coat, his slippers sliding onto his feet and he makes his way out of his room.
"What? I thought we could just talk over the phone." you sit up in panic. You're in your pajamas and not prepared for company.
"I know, but it'll be easier." you can hear that on his side, he's already out the door and walking to his car.
"You're driving yourself?" you question incredulously.
"I don't want to bother the drivers right now. I got my license about a year ago, thought it would be useful to have." You hear the car door shut on his side and the engine starts.
"Okay..." you can't think of anything else to say.
"Be there soon."
You nod, "Yeah, see you." you hang up, anticipating his arrival as you sit uncomfortably on the edge of your bed.
After a moment of thoughtful silence on your part, you straighten and smooth out your pajama set, which is a pair of shorts and a skimpy tank-top, but you're sure that won't be a problem.
The sound of your bare footsteps pad into the kitchen and on into the entry hall, passing Ren on your way.
"Miss y/n. Do you need something? It's very late." Ren checks his watch and straightens his posture as you pass him.
"Oh um... Kyoya is coming over a minute. Just wanted to meet him at the door." You rub the back of your neck awkwardly, averting your eyes to the chandelier above you instead of Ren's questioning gaze.
"Mr. Ootori?" Then, Ren seems to have it figured out.
"Oh... would... would you like me to...?" Ren jabs his thumb to the exit of the room, suggesting he turn in for the night.
"What? No! Oh, God, no!" You wave at him in urgency, denying his implied claim.
"I understand. Just let me know if you need anything." He bows and turns on his heel to leave you be, standing in the middle of the kitchen in your pajama shorts and tank-top.
It isn't long before there's a soft knock on your front door. You briefly acknowledge the fact that he's neglected to ring the doorbell because of the hour. Your heart pulses at the consideration.
You turn the knob gently and swing it open to reveal Kyoya, dressed oddly domestically, laptop, notebook, and writing utensils brought along with him.
The odd silence between you feels tensed. Finally, he speaks up and cuts through the tension with a dull butter knife.
"Hello." It's a simple greeting, almost awkward, before you stand aside to let him inside.
"Hi. Thanks for coming." he strides past you and nods gently.
"Bedroom is... this way." You gesture vaguely down the hall from the kitchen and lead the way. You can hear his soft footfalls on the floor in the slippers you've provided him with and you heart picks up the pace.
"I don't think I've ever been to your house before." Kyoya takes in his surroundings, the hallway leading to your bedroom is pristine and lengthy.
"You've been to my parents' parties here, right?" You glance at him over your shoulder and suppress a smile at his expression.
"Well, yes. But those parties were held in the ballroom and it isn't too dissimilar from my own." Kyoya reminds. You hum in acknowledgement and turn the corner to the door to your room.
"Just in here. It's a bit of a mess, when I get stressed, I get disorganized, and when I'm disorganized, I'm stressed. It's a relentless cycle." You grumble before pushing open the heavy wooden door.
Kyoya expects much more of a mess than he's greeted with. Despite a few papers strewn about your bed covering and your laptop open near the edge, nothing else seems out of place. He doesn't know what he expected of your room, but it fits you more than he can describe.
You fold your legs beneath your body and pick up your laptop to place it in your lap, ready to begin work. Your eyes dart up from the screen to gaze at Kyoya, standing in the middle of your room as his eyes bound across the room.
"Aren't you going to sit?" You gesture to a number of comfortable surfaces in your room. There's plenty of room on your bed, given the size, but a chair would also suffice. Anything but watching him stand in the center of the room awkwardly would be acceptable.
"Right." you seem to have ripped him from a dizzy daydream and he settles for a chair near your bed. You don't pay his decision much attention and open your empty document.
"I just... can't come up with a single thing to put in this essay." you toss your hands up indignantly, creasing your brow in irritation as your blinking cursor continues to mock you.
"Typically these essays are supposed to reflect your inner workings, tell your university of choice who you are." Kyoya opens his own laptop and begins a new document.
"That's the problem, I've got nothing." you huff, tossing your laptop gently to the side and lying back on your sheets.
"What do you mean you've got nothing?" Kyoya all but chuckles at your antics. You sit halfway up to glare at him.
"I mean I've got nothing! Absolutely nothing comes to mind when thinking about myself. I feel like I can evaluate others just fine, but when it comes to myself... I'm just-"
"Oblivious?" Kyoya's eyes cautiously find yours over his laptop screen. He took the words right out of your mouth.
"I-... yeah, exactly." You're at a loss for words. How did he know?
"I can relate to that to a certain extent." Kyoya resonates with you on a deep level.
You cross your legs casually, "What did you write about?"
Instinctively, Kyoya's eyes fly to your legs where your shorts ride up as your leg folds over your other leg. He physically shakes the thought from his head and meets your eyes again. Or, at least your face.
"Me?" it's a stupid question. He can't say he's ever asked a stupid question before. But there it was, coming right from between his lips.
"Yes, you." You giggle at his question. He curses himself and his hormones for his behavior.
"I just..." What did he write about? Why is it suddenly so hard to remember? When did it get so hot in your room?
"I remembered what my sister told me... when I was struggling with my essay. She said just to tell them that 'Kyoya Ootori is blank', and that seemed to be a good outline for what I wanted to say."
"I think plenty of stories from your adventures in the Host Club helped with that, a little." you tease as you crawl up onto your bed, feeling more comfortable in his presence.
"Indeed it did. Aside from that, you want to be sure not to reiterate anything in your resume. As much as the Host Club is a large part of mine, I tried to avoid restating it too much." Kyoya advises as he pulls a copy of his essay from the depths of his many documents.
"Right. That's smart." it seems like a silly thing to say. Most of what comes from Kyoya's brain and out of his mouth is smart. You dig into your files and find your resume, opening it up and scrolling through it.
"Hm. See, I've already got my family history on here... let's see..." you squint at the bright screen in your dimly lit room.
"And your family doesn't define you." Kyoya's statement is bold and garish. You glance at him.
"How do you mean?" You tilt your head.
"I didn't put my family in my essay at all. It didn't seem like something I wanted them to define me as." Kyoya finds the words to say easily.
"I see what you mean. As much as they don't know about you, your family should be one of the unknowns." You try to comprehend his advice in your own way.
As you begin typing away, you glance at him one last time. "Why're you still all the way over there? Come up here." you pat the bed next to you firmly, a clear gesture to join you on the mattress.
Kyoya hesitates a moment. Finally, he complies and sits cross-legged next to you on the bed, laptop in a similar position to yours. He tries his best to keep his posture straight, God only knows how that will feel in the morning if he doesn't.
The clacking of your fingers on the keys and the clicking of his mousepad ring in the silence. Occasionally, your typing stops and Kyoya glances up to find that you're stuck- eyebrows furrowed and tongue poking the inside of your cheek as your eyes read and reread over your draft.
Eventually, you let out a frustrated hum and scoot closer to him, much to his surprise. "Alright, here's what I have so far."
It seems you really only need someone to bounce ideas off of. Kyoya hasn't provided much help, although a few pieces of advice, but most of what you're writing you've come up with on your own. He finds himself not focused on what you're saying at all, but the way your lips form around words as you speak, the way your fingers slightly tremble as they grasp behind your laptop as if you're nervous, the way your eyes flit to and fro across the screen as you read.
And suddenly you're finished. You glance up at him, gauging his reaction. Once he notices that your lips have stopped moving, he glances up to meet your eyes as well. Nothing of what you said made it to his ears. Not one bit. A faint blush spreads across his face at the thought of being caught staring.
"Well?" you ask in the silence.
Kyoya's eyes linger on you before casting down to his own laptop. "I-um... good- it's good, yeah." he scratches the back of his neck and chews anxiously on the inside of his cheek.
What kind of spell have you put on him? What kind of creature are you to render the Kyoya Ootori unable to concentrate or form a coherent sentence? What kind of sorcery is this?
"Kyoya." You call him out of his thoughts in a stern voice. His gray irises move up to you in a hurry.
"You didn't hear a word of what I just said."
And there it is. You pointed it out. Kyoya feels his heart twang. Damn his sudden emotions, they aren't supposed to come to him in a rush like this.
"I'm sorry, I was... distracted." he decides on after a moment of thinking.
"What could you possibly be distracted by?" Kyoya can hear the irritation dripping from your voice but he can't help when his eyes glance at your lips at your inquiry.
You, you seductive wench.
You follow his gaze and know exactly what he's looking at. You feel a sudden confidence bloom in your chest at his incapability to speak.
Kyoya only looks back into your eyes when your lips tug up on one side, simpering up at him.
"Would it help to... take a break?" you gently shut the lid of your laptop and set it aside. Kyoya's heart picks up the pace.
"Potentially... yes. We should do something else. We should-"
You yank him by the collar and firmly press your lips to Kyoya's. His lips are pressed into a thin line, eyes wide and unsure of how to react.
You're kissing him. You're kissing him. Oh, God. He should do something, he should-
"You talk too much." you whisper against his lips and close your mouth again against his.
Kyoya can't help his eyes that flutter shut, can't help but inhale deeply, your scent overriding his senses. His mind screams your name because that's all he can think of. y/n, y/n, y/n.
He would stop himself, but... he remembers...
First of all, you're his fianc茅. This is what fianc茅s should do. It's almost expected.
And second of all, it's you. You're clouding his senses.
Self-control? Who's she?
Kyoya has no idea what he's doing. Not only has he never kissed anyone before, his mind is also melting, falling apart, how ever you want to describe it. It's useless, and he can't even comprehend how to reciprocate. And, oh, your lips are so soft. You taste like jasmine, lavender? No, jasmine. Jasmine is much more rich and seductive.
Luckily, you know what to do. Your lips are moving, almost mouthing at his own. Kyoya remembers what he's always heard; just mimic your partner.
He tries to do what you're doing, and it seems to work.
Speaking of you, your mind is screaming at you; what the hell are you doing?!
But when Kyoya starts to kiss you back, his lips moving in sync with yours, your nerves settle. You can't help your mouth stretching into a thin line, smiling as you acknowledge that his arms are stationary at his sides.
"Your arms go here." you grasp his wrists and place them on your waist. His hands feel tense, stiff.
Kyoya emits a noise and gently pushes against you, detaching his mouth from yours and taking a deep, open-mouthed breath in, like a man drowning and finally surfacing for a breath of air.
"I can't breathe." He exhales deeply, then. Now that you can get a better look at him, you can see his flushed cheeks and glazed-over eyes. His lungs were burning, otherwise he wouldn't have pulled away.
You giggle at him and Kyoya swears he hears angels from on high. Is this heaven? Has he ascended to the great beyond?
But when the neurons in his brain start firing again, all he can see is your and your cheeks painted a pretty pink, eyes hooded as you gaze at him with a look he's never seen before.
You? Heaven? Same word, different letters.
Suddenly, as much as Kyoya needs air, he needs you again. But, he's not sure if he wants to move toward you. He's conflicted. He should have much more self control, but when you intrude on his thoughts (a very much welcomed intrusion), he can't find himself caring enough to stop.
"Who would've thought? Kyoya Ootori, you are a very talented kisser." You chuckle seductively as you release your grip on his collar.
"Had some experience?" there's a certain type of humor in your tone. You've always resorted to using jokes to cover up negative emotions; like jealousy, in this case. Kyoya really is a good kisser... you can only wonder where or with who he learned how.
"No." Kyoya answers immediately, shaking his head defiantly. You raise an eyebrow, relief flooding your senses.
"Oh?" is all you can say. You can feel the dread of a sudden lull in the conversation.
"No, I just... mimicked you." he admits, thoroughly winded.
You bite your lip to suppress a much too large smile, reaching for your laptop and pacing to your desk to set it there.
"I think we've done enough for tonight. Thank you... for your help. And, everything else." you tease, clasping your hands behind your back and swaying on your feet. You leap back onto your bed and tuck your legs beneath you.
Kyoya exhales, then fumbles with himself and then his things. "Right. Right, I'll just..." He's almost to your door, but you tug on his shirt to keep him from going too far.
"Won't you stay the night?" Your voice is soft and pleading, quite contrasting to your earlier confidence.
Kyoya takes a glimpse of your hand grasping the fabric of his clothing.
"With me?" you clarify after a moment.
"But, your parents..." Kyoya reminds you that the two of you are not alone in this house.
You laugh humorlessly, "You've met my parents, haven't you? I'm not so convinced they'll care if you stay or go."
"Do... you care if I stay or go?" Kyoya tries cautiously. Because that's all that really matters. It's your opinion he cares about. For once, he finds himself putting someone else's opinion above his own.
"Do you want me to care?" that's not really the response he's looking for. He wants you to be vulnerable first.
The silence in your room is deafening. Neither of you speak but you can practically feel the nerves radiating off of one another.
"I should probably go."
Kyoya regrets it. Oh, he can't even begin to describe how much he regrets what he's said, but he can't let his guard down for longer than he has.
You feel your heart wrench at his words, "Yeah, yeah. It's probably best." You wrest yourself from your bed and swiftly move on to your nightly routine so as to distract yourself.
"Right." Kyoya gathers his things and waits at your doorway, silently begging for you to call him back to you. Back into your arms, back into the warm safety of your embrace.
But you don't. You don't even spare him a glance as you make your way to your bathroom.
"I'll see you soon." he calls. The end of school means he doesn't get to see you everyday. Not without initiating.
"See you. Goodnight." Kyoya can almost hear the pain in your voice, the trembling. He winces at himself.
"Goodnight." he walks himself to your front door, slipping out without another glance behind him.
When he leaves, the pain sets in. You grip the edges of your sink with fervor and your eyes squeeze shut tightly. You shouldn't have taken a chance, how could you think something like that would work out for the better?
Soon after your routine, you wrap yourself in your blankets and swaddle yourself in sorrow, your heart pounding with a dull aching pain. You find it hard to breathe, hard to catch your breath. You groan and bury your body beneath the blankets, settling in for a dreamless sleep.
Whatever troubles tomorrow brings can't compare to the agonizing pain of the present.
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want to read more? here's my ouran masterlist 馃尮
and here's my bts blog 馃挏
want me to write something you want to see? request something 馃拰
have any questions? talk to my characters! 馃檹馃徎
Adieu~ 馃尮馃尮馃尮
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ginki 3 months ago
Megumi is the kind of guy who is vanilla in bed until something makes him snap
You're fucking doggy style and his attention gets caught on your hair. It looks so soft, so ready to be touched just like the rest of you. He runs a hand through it, admiring how every bit of you is made for his eyes, his hands, his mouth, to explore. He tugs at your hair mindlessly as he tries to reach the angle you both need- an innocent gesture on his part- but the sound that escapes your mouth is filthy. You toss your head back, whining, and he cocks his head, smirking, pulling harder. It gets a rise out of him in more than one way. That sound... It was intoxicating. A floodgate in him breaks. Desire pours out onto his fingertips and his lips. It gives him strength to bruise you, clarity through the haze to call you things you can't repeat. He wants to know how loud you can go, how rough you can take, how much he can have. He's fast and eager and greedy
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a-gal-with-taste 5 months ago
shower sex w silco,, breathe if you agree
2.8K Words (Silco X F!Reader)
Prequel to Part 1
Warnings: NSFW/Minors DNI, blood/violence mentioned, sex-work, shower-sex, dom-sub undertones, handjob, light edging, P in V sex, a healthy sprinkling of reader simping/catching feels because wet-haired Silco is- 馃憣
On his 10th visit, he comes to you in blood.
Of which you are no stranger of, and have even spilt some yourself, as have all Undercity residents have had at some point or another. Some would claim it is to survive; in truth, it is a rite of passage, that soon breds into a tragic, but honest necessity of life.
Still, the sight of him splattered with it makes you slip from the bed you recline on without another word, nor hesitation, crossing the room in single-number strides before the door is even closed.
"Eager, are you?" Breathless, tonelessly dry joke as you impatiently tug at the stained coat. A short hiss and a tight grip is suddenly on your wrist, one you know very well by now in a different context, when you pull too hard at a shoulder.
You flick your eyes up to the mask, and, like you have every time since his 3rd, you want nothing more than to drag it off to see his face. "Beloved," You murmur, feeling that grip tighten indescribably at the assigned term he'd chosen on the contract. "Beloved," You whisper again, more urgently as you slip the coat arm free from his shoulder.
The hand that holds you doesn't release, and you feel the ripple of his shudder along your skin.
"...Let me take care of you." "Do you not already?" He knows the answer as well as you do, but you do not give up. His grip is tight, but the arm is lax, allowing you to move your hand, still in his grasp, down closer to your face.
You hear lips part, yours or his, you know not which, as you bring his gloved hand up to your quiet, even breaths. Fingers loosen as your lips slide over the dark leather, before teeth gently close at the edge between tanned-material and man. Hairs rising as you pause a beat to let out a low breath wave over his wrist, before you slowly tug the material off his skin.
He releases you once it reach his fingers, and a moment of pause as the blood-speckled leather is hanging between your teeth, before a thumb comes up to gently rub away the faint smear left behind upon your upper lip.
It stays on your skin, once task complete.
"I think," Eyelashes flutter as the pad of the finger slowly rubs at your skin, and out of habit by this point, you open your mouth and let the glove drop onto the ground, forgotten. "I do indeed, know a way you could take care of me."
You smile, and take his hand into yours.
The brothal showers are practically state of the art, an gift of an anonymous donor, shortly after your newest client came. Swooping metal, half-glowing glass decor and seemingly never-ending supply of hot water.
And handles. Lots of handles, gripping points and stands, with non-slip flooring to drive the implication home.
Your client's mask hangs off one of them, his back to you as water rivets down from dark, smoke-steaked locks that grow limp and dripping in the steaming spray.
Breaking a river with your lips on the curve of his neck, you gently trace the circles of purple and blue already forming with one hand, the soft touches making him shudder. From your delicate handling of his bruises and wounds, or the slow stokes you are giving to his length, it doesn't really matter.
You imagine, sans the long groan that sounds as your fingers swirl the red, thobbing head of his cock, that the noises you're pulling from him would fit well into either dueling sensation.
"Fuck..." You don't attempt to hide your smile, nuzzling your nose against his base-hairline as fingers trail along his hardness, earning another groan through clenched teeth as you give a teasing rub of your thumb on the leaking tip, skin pulled back enough for the full sensitivity to shoot through him at every caring swipe.
In the first couple visits, your client had been near-silent as you did your work. A grunt here, a hiss once or twice, but stern, low orders had been your only reply to every stroke, clench, lick and suckle.
It was almost amusing to see how quickly you could pull a rare extremity from his mouth under your actions. As if on cue, there's a louder, repeated use of a swear as he thumps a fist hard on the showerwall. Responding with volume as you give a series of faster pumps, before slowing back down to gently trace fingers along the details of his prick.
You chuckle, and though the water is close to burning, you see muscles jump at the warm feel of your lips at his neck. "You enjoy it, Beloved. I might know your body better than you know it yourself. I might even know this cock..."
His next moan takes on an interesting, rarely-used high pitch as you close your palm just over the tip. Fingers stroking down as you slowly grind your palm against the exposed tip, feeling the clear pre smearing over your hand at a particularly needy thrust.
"... better than you do at this point, beloved."
There's thump of his forehead hitting the wall in front of him, which is repeated twice, as you pull your hand away from his need to slide both arms from behind, hands smoothing over abdomen, ribs and chest. Fingers skimming over scars of young and old, you settle your hands flat on his chest and, after a beat, close the distance between you two.
Resting your forehead at the back of his skull, you wait to see if he objects. Though you feel muscles tense under your, almost domestic touch, he doesn't, and you close your eyes.
You are no dreamer. No one in your profession is, and you've been doing this long enough to have any concept of fantasies firmly buried in the deepest pit of your mind.
A part of you can't help it. That inane part of you, that'll no doubt one day get you fired, can't help but bask in this moment of simplicity, a sensuality without sex, which was a rare, rare feeling in your line of work.
A part of you can't help but imagine more of these moments, with this client of yours. Being allowed in such intimacy with a man whose taken you, and only you, demanding only that you keep to him. And only him.
Your Beloved.
You decide to blame the name, it's making you sentimental. Hands slowly retracting from his skin, you're unsurprised as your client, speaking up suddenly after what feels like an eternity of silence, croaks out in a rugged tone you're not quite familiar with, "I need to be inside you."
Repressing a small sigh, you go to remove yourself. Not that you don't want him, of course, but you selfishly wanted to stay in this moment. Heat cascading down between the two of you, and nothing, not even a non-negotiable mask, as written on the contract, between you and him...
But you suppose, the bed would do-
His hand shoots from his steel-grip on the wall in front of him to capture your wrist, breathing out a quiet, but urgent, "Right now. Right here." Your breath catches, and a small rumble sounds from his chest when his ears catch it, before he murmurs again in a tone you can't quite decipher, "Close your eyes."
The command is obeyed instantly. And rewarded soon after with two familiar hands cupping either side of your face, and an unfamiliar mouth on yours.
Your gasping exhale is swallowed as a tongue invades yours. Fingers soon smooth from your cheekbones, up through your soaked hair as you send a moan through his mouth, feeling him respond in kind. And though you want nothing more then to run you hands over his own face, you merely latch your hands onto his shoulders, more careful with the injured one.
Your client pulled back enough to rest a forehead against yours, gaze clearly focused downward as you feel fingers beginning to stroke just outside the folds of your pussy. "Soaked already, are you?"
Unable to resist, you reply with a breathless whimper as he fingers slide between your rapidly-slickening thighs, brushing against your clit, "So are you."
A chuckle, and you opened your mouth to feel it on your lips. Anonymity was the foundation of your particular brothel, and you were, dangerously, stupidly, growing too fond of this particular client of yours, to scare away by open your eyes.
He must've appreciated the restraint, for he soon guided your hands to grip the wall behind him, before snaking an arm under one leg to lift it. You wrap it, instinctively and with practice, at his slender waist. Curling a hand into a fist on the wall behind as your hoarse words slip out without your permission, "Let me see you."
The hand gripping your hip as he slowly drags his stiff cock between your lips, twitches in response to your quiet plea, but you only hear a smooth, almost teasing, "No," in reply.
"Let me kiss you."
His lips slam into yours without a second more to spare, through he takes his time sliding his cock into your heat.
Soon, blessedly soon, he is leaving long-needed trails of suckled flesh along your neck and collar as he sets a slow, pace between your legs. The small jerks, and the thundering growls he bites into your flesh are the only betrayals of his impatience as you let out lewd moans between his unrelenting, upward thrusts. In this position, you feel the tip inside you sliding deliciously against your g-spot with every movement, stirring electricity up your spine at every motion.
Water riveting down your body, you tilt your head back as he nurses one particularly long, dark mark into the curve of your neck, pulling back with a quiet, but ragged sigh. The hand not holding your hips as he gives the first of his harsh thrusts into you comes up to cart through the back of your hair.
"Pretty thing, when I have you like this," His voice, and the increasing sounds of the pace picking up, are the sole things cutting through the steam. Until your whimpers begin to grow into earnest moaning. "Gods, you're so good for me. So right for me..."
The cry that spills from you at the first of sudden, direct pounds deep into your cunt, makes him groan loud and long from the way you clench around him. "Fuck... you have a face, bred to be twisted with ecstasy from me."
You couldn't even begin to come up to a respond to that, and he gave you zero opportunities to think of one. Head lolling back into the grip on your hair as you felt your nails claw into the wall behind him, as his tongue pushed back into your mouth at your next choked moan. His own claws dug into your skin as he dragged your face closer to wrestle his mouth with yours.
The heat of your bodies almost rivaling that of the steam and water around the two of you, you felt your body rocket to melting-points after a couple sharp thrusts, and a thumb snaking around to the front of your pelvis to grind against your clit once, twice...
The resulting orgasm almost made him stagger, a rough and vile curse filling the clouded air as you clenched around the cock inside you with a vengeance. Head tossing back as you went stiff in your peak, the heated spray of the shower left you sputtering when you remembered how to breathe.
The mantra of curses brought you down to earth and... oh, damn the contract.
You opened your eyes, and saw him face to face for the first time, your beloved. No masks, no contractual obligations.
Just you, the steam between you, a glowing red eye and a face twisted into ecstasy as he rams into his orgasm, head falling back against the title with mouth falling open. The cum filling your cunt almost makes you climax a second time, and you swear that drinking in every detail of his face is what very-nearly puts you over the edge.
Others would cringe or openly stare in terror at the grey scars, the neverblinking red and black. Some probably consiter it the only remarkable feature, but watching that remaining human eye twist further shut, then teeth grind as he rides out his climax, dark hair having fallen all over his face...
And he said you had a face made for ecstasy. You could find yourself staring at this exact image for hours, and never feel less aflame than you do right now.
Alas, hours he does not give you, for the open-mouth panting comes to a slow halt as he cracks open an eye, teal and hazed with lust as he meets your gaze freely for the first time. No judgement or fury at your disobedience resides in his gaze, just quiet patience and satisfaction as his chest rises and falls with yours as work to regain air in your lungs.
You drink in every detail of his expression as water drips from your lashes, and streams down his face, rippling as it passes over grey, cracked skin and falling off partially scarred parted-lips.
Eyes then flicking back to his eye, watching your study, you hold his gaze for a moment. Then your mouths crash and reach each other half-way, as you end up thrusting your aching pelvis flush to his once more, feeling his spent release drip down from your used hole, down your thighs and down the drain from the action of him once again brought full-hilt within you.
It takes a long time for the hot water to run out.
Unrelated, it takes just as long for the two of you to stop.
"Are you going to end the contract?"
"No." You hum, but don't argue, pulling the fluffy towel closer around your shoulders as you watch him get dressed once more. Every cut or scrape cleaned out and now bandaged, only bruises remain on his skin. With that in mind, it'll be easy for him to dispel speculation of his slight, sore-legged limp as merely side effects of a job gone bad.
You, however, reside in a brothel. The others here know exactly what needing to be partially-carried back to the room by your client means, and no amount of hiding it is going to dismiss the giggles that will undoubtedly arise when you walk out with a limp come morning.
You find that you don't give a damn, and are simply content to recline on the bed as he smooths his cost back into place, reaching up to run a hand through damp locks. "Why?"
He pauses, turning to look at you. "I despise those who don't follow orders." He admits, heading over to the side of the bed where you lay. "Leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, betrayal..." The tone is soft as he speaks in words that should be harsh, and the touch he slids up over your body is equally gentle. Fingertips drag and catch on the curves of your body as you open the sides of the towel around you.
Yes, you're unbelievably sore, more than you've ever been with anyone else in your job, and maybe ever will be, but for him? You're fine with a little more ache.
He doesn't drop his gaze from yours for a moment, however, and soon, his hand finds it's way to your cheek. "But that wasn't a betrayal of trust, now was it?"
You shake your head, ever careful not to shake his touch from your skin as you breath assuringly, "Curiosity." His mouth moves slowly as he repeats it,聽 tasting the word on his tongue, before a little curl appears on his lips. "Well, if that's the case, who am I to punish the curious?"
Leaning down, his lips brush against yours, and automatically, unwillingly as you want to continue drinking-in his visage, your eyes slip close. Softer, perhaps more for himself than for your ears, he adds, "And I reward those who take care... and you take very, very good care of me, my lovely."
Breath catches, he pulls away and slips out before you open your eyes. It's as if he was never there at all, save for the ache between your legs, the gold shining on the counter, and that dooming, horrible warmth that now begins to build in your chest.
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doctorgerth a year ago
a/n: this has been heavy on my *click* noggin鈥 for a while now...didn鈥檛 include Sabo this time just cuz I鈥檓 already doing a make out imagine with him for the milestone celebration! I鈥檇 be happy to do this with more characters, just ask nicely 馃拫
featuring: Zoro, Sanji, Luffy, & Ace + f!reader
summary: privacy is hard to come by when you鈥檙e a pirate. you鈥檙e bound to get caught kissing eventually.
warnings: suggestive content ! ! !
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鉁 ZORO growls as you tug at the base of his green hair, his massive build driving you to slam you against the nearest wall. He allows you a quick second to catch your breath from the sudden force before his lips are plastered against your own once more, leaving you to whimper his name over and over. One hand falls to wrap a leg around his waist, the other to cup at your ass, strong fingers digging into the flesh as he continues to kiss you wildly. His tongue slips past your parted lips, swiping at your own before groaning a deep, 鈥淔uck, I need you.鈥 Just as he goes to wrap your other leg around him, pelvis pushing against you, the door opens up to reveal Franky and Robin, whistling with pride as they catch you two in the act. Zoro nearly drops you right on your ass as he fumbles over his words, 鈥淪-stupid perverts, we weren鈥檛 even doing anything!鈥 The duo eye each other with sly grins before Brook pops up behind them, of course asking about your panties. 鈥淕ET OUT!鈥 Zoro slams the door in their faces then turns to you, face flushed from both embarrassment but also that same need from earlier, 鈥淵ou鈥檒l have to be quieter this time, baby. I鈥檓 not done with you yet.鈥
鉁 SANJI digs his fingers into your waist as he pants your name in hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline. You are seated on the kitchen counter, arms wrapped around his neck and legs spread wide to offer him home as his lips devour you. When he finds your waiting lips again, he starts off tender, working your lips until you鈥檙e breathing heavily into his mouth. He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, a silent request, before entangling his slick muscle with yours. Your nimble fingers slide down to toy with the buttons of his shirt, his own rubbing circles on the bare skin of your waist, dangerously close to the hem of your pants. 鈥淪o beautiful, angel. Can鈥檛 control myself.鈥 As you go to respond with an encouraging 鈥渢hen don鈥檛鈥, the kitchen door bursts open, 鈥淗ey Sanji, can I get a-AGHHH鈥 a flustered Usopp covers his eyes as Sanji covers you. 鈥淒ude gross! That鈥檚 where you make our food!鈥 Sanji screams at him to get out, feet already flaming up as he chases Usopp out of the kitchen. Meanwhile you fix your appearance and make yourself a snack to eat your embarrassment away.
鉁 LUFFY tangles his limbs with yours, pulling you impossibly closer and chasing your lips endlessly. He smiles as you whimper against his eager lips, taking note of how your chest heaves, flush against his own. He swallows every moan, every cry from you as his tongue dances with yours, easily overcoming you as you become putty in his embrace. His hands trace the length of your body, gripping at your waist when you tug at his disheveled black locks, hands dropping down to remove his red cardigan with haste. He grinds against you, eliciting more sweet noises from your pretty lips as you claw at his now bare back, 鈥淵ou taste so sweet, (Name). I want more.鈥 His lips move to your neck, sure to leave marks as he attacks your skin lovingly, but he bites down a little too hard when Chopper suddenly bursts into the room. You squeal at the sensation, and Chopper鈥檚 innocent mind can only assume the worst. 鈥淟uffy! Get off of (Name), you鈥檙e hurting her!鈥 his tiny hooves attack at the captain, you can鈥檛 help but to laugh at the scene as Luffy struggles to remove himself from you. But it was all fun and games until Zoro and Robin found out. Now, you have to reserve your make outs for when Chopper is as far away from you two as possible.
鉁 ACE tugs at your bottom lip as his hands slide under your shirt, admiring the goosebumps that litter your skin in the wake of his touch. He moans as you return the favor, taking his bottom lip between your own teeth as you rake your nails against his chest, grinding down on him beneath you. 鈥淪hit, babe, you鈥檙e amazing.鈥 he cries out as he pulls you closer to kiss you heavily, and just as his hands are about to pull your shirt over your head, he quickly pulls the comforter over you instead as Marco makes his presence known in the doorway. You could practically feel Marco鈥檚 judgmental glare even under the weight of the comforter as you buried your head into the crook of Ace鈥檚 shoulder in embarrassment, fighting back giggles as Ace swears that you are in fact not hiding under the blanket. 鈥淲e鈥檙e not having babies on this ship any time soon, so you鈥檇 better get your hormones in check before I make Izo start chaperoning you two-yoi!鈥 Marco eventually leaves after a brief, heated chat about the reproductive system and Ace pouts when you roll away, 鈥淐ome on, baby, they鈥檙e just kisses! I can control myself!鈥 he pulls you into him and nibbles at your ear, 鈥淣ot my fault if you can鈥檛.鈥
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If you enjoyed this, let me know by leaving a like, comment, and/or reblog! 馃尭
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thoughtfullyrainynightmare 3 months ago
I was in the mood for some sexy headcanons, so:
How do the Black Clover Captains (+ Mereo & Julius) sound in bed?
Fanfic type: Headcanons
Warnings: smut (though not heavy), NSFW, minors DNI
He鈥檚 surprisingly quiet in bed. It鈥檚 mostly heavy, low breathing with a specific undertone, that you can鈥檛 quite place your finger on. But it鈥檚 a tune that he only has when he鈥檚 aroused, ready to start roaming your body with his hands and lips.
However the words he does speak, the quiet murmurs he speaks against your skin, the testimonies of his affection for you that send vibrations through your very soul.
You can drag out a moan from him every now and then. And his moans are low, sultry... filled with something so sweet and heavenly his words might have been some divine nectar. One that mixed together with yours like it was meant to be.
He speaks a bit in the beginning, but after a while his actions speak for themselves. His hold is assertive, rough, determined, but don鈥檛 cross that line where he鈥檇 be hurting you.
Some growls escape him, but if you let out a squeak, not a hum, he asks if you鈥檙e good. Because he does want you, and your affection. He can鈥檛 risk loosing it.
His moans are loud, and usually happen when you tell him to just get it on with; to ram into you, to spank you, to just claim you. And he does, he does as he鈥檚 told to do. But in the end there鈥檚 long, lingering caresses, during which he asks if he was too rough. Because he does love you
If he likes something, you鈥檒l know. If something isn鈥檛 that good for him, you鈥檒l also know, but those he speaks out with another suggestion. 鈥淲hat if we try this instead baby?鈥
His voice is always low... rich... delicious, but in bed? Oh boy~ It鈥檚 almost like he taps into some reserve that makes it even more delicious.
And his moans, come with a praise; just to make sure you know how good it feels. And if you moan in return, which you will, that鈥檒l only encourage him.
鈥淵ou like that?鈥 Is a question you鈥檒l hear regularly, at it comes with a hint of a smug undertone as he licks is lips. The next thing that rolls from his tongue is a tease, and perhaps another, depending on the day.
His voice is soft, and more quiet than you鈥檇 think. Given how loud he is in public, but those moments, those intimate moments with him; regardless of the smug undertones and teasing, he cherishes.
His hold of you is rough and insisting, but the words are delicate; lustrous and difficult to find. The tone you hear only when you鈥檙e intimate. A rare treat.
She is bubbly and doesn鈥檛 hold back, and giggles in bed. She鈥檚 not laughing at you, mind you, but she鈥檚 looking to have fun with you.
The occasional light hearted joke to make you both comfortable? She鈥檒l make it. Tickles and giggles, until it comes down to the climax. Because her moans are light and airy, dreamy to your ears.
She鈥檒l give you praises, soft as silk, with eyes that are bright like stars in the sky.
She鈥檚 quiet, only giving you heavy breathing and subtle glances. But will tell you if she鈥檚 uncertain about something. That鈥檚 the beginning.
But little by little she builds confidence, and that鈥檚 when she grows louder, more assertive. She鈥檒l tell you what she like and what she doesn鈥檛. But it鈥檚 always veiled being out of breath; with her chest heaving.
Once, every session, she鈥檒l whisper how she loves you. It鈥檚 a quiet testimony between the ragged breaths, but they speak volumes.
He asks what you like, and just wants to make sure you鈥檙e doing good.
He鈥檚 still inexperienced, and there鈥檚 a few laughs and giggles, because you鈥檙e having fun while having sex. Because there鈥檚 nothing that says that sex can鈥檛 be fun.
And his moans... the sweetest thing you have heard.
His moans are more heavy breaths than anything, and he鈥檚 not the most vocal in bed anyhow, because many years of marriage have developed wordless communication in bed for him.
But the sounds he make are lingering, soft, heavy, and determined.
He鈥檚 not loud by any means. And he鈥檚 always asking if you鈥檙e feeling good, because he wants to make sure that you鈥檙e feeling cherished.聽
Unless you鈥檙e in control, then he鈥檚 just in awe. But still, very quiet, the moans you get from him, are silent, almost as if he鈥檚 asking if he can. Even if he can鈥檛 help but let out the sweet, sweet sounds, no matter how you鈥檙e having sex.聽
He enjoys it, treasures it, it all, because he wants to be close to you like that. Delicate and sweet, just like his hold of you. Until it comes the time to make you both climax~
This man, is not quiet ever, and bed is no exception. He鈥檚 not afraid to make jokes to make you laugh, to give you praise and affirmation, not forgetting to just look at you, cherishing those sweet moments.聽
His breathing is rugged and heavy, rolling from him with a slight chuckle, out of pleasure. And it鈥檚 usually followed by an encouragement, a testimony of how gorgeous you are.聽
But his moans... they rise straight from his heart and make you melt in the best possible way.聽
She is loud and assertive in everything she does. But she does know when to tone it down just enough not to get caught, because what happens between you two, is between you two. Unless you encourage her. Because if you do that, she is not backing down.聽
She does like to tease, and will do so with a smug grin. But she does also purr, and that purr, is the sweetest thing you鈥檒l hear.聽
And her moans, they鈥檙e intense, just like she is, but they鈥檙e not a roar, a cry to battle. Because sex is not a battle; one of the secrets that she doesn鈥檛 want you to tell the world. She is intense and assertive, and so are her moans, but they鈥檙e also a sign, of how a lioness can be sweet.聽
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mouthfulofwhiteliess 4 months ago
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5hio a year ago
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/tw: nsfw (-ish?)聽
Oh to have some lovin under the stars,,, 鉁
聽An old ko-fi request I was unsure to upload, but It's been a while since I don't draw the babes聽 聽馃様
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absolute-menace-to-society 2 months ago
Something for my wife
Warnings: NSFW, blow jobs, car sex, the pp worship you all know and love that comes from my fics, only Jotaro gets off, Jolyne's in jail and he needs help destressing, and no stinky priest nonsense AU, and ig it's worth noting Reader is Jolyne's mon
I forgot JoJo was also Jolyne's nickname but I do not apologize for anything. That's what he gets for naming your daughter Jolyne
The ride down to the Aquarium was silent. Jotaro wouldn't even indulge you in letting the radio play. You loved the man but you wish he didn't have to be so awkward sometimes. Yes, you were going to see your daughter in jail, but music could make the mood a little less of a downer!
He was stressed. He blamed himself for Jolyne ending up in prison. Acting out because her father was rarely home. You wished he would stop making himself suffer in literal silence, for both of yours sake.
"JoJooo, could'ya just let me turn the radio on already? Even a little bit? The silence is killing me!" You drawled his nickname out in a whine.
Jotaro stayed silent and didn't take his eyes off the road. You sighed and placed a hand on his leg, massaging and gently squeezing his meaty thigh. "Jotaro, I get you're stressed. But tension builds tension, we should stop and take a breather before meeting Jolyne, I don't want to make her even more worried during all of this nonsense."
He huffed a little and still didn't meet your eye. "I want to get this done and over with."
As stoic as always.
"Jotaro, I think I know how to ease you up." You suddenly spoke with a lewd but fun game coming to mind. A hand of yours came up to rub at his left pec, warming him up.
"If you think I'm going to stop the car just so we can fuck then you're wrong."
"Oh, don't worry about that sweetie! You can keep driving if you want, I'll just have my own fun with you."
The hand that was on his chest moved down to rub his groin. Not even hard there was still a huge lump where his dick was. You squeezed and rubbed a little more, feeling his girth and size in your tiny hand. It was hot. Just thinking about his cock got you horny immediately.
You built up a wad of saliva in your mouth while your hand unzipped his snake skin pants and played with him some more. All the while your husband was silent with a strong grip on the wheel. He wasn't complaining. You knew he wanted this too. Good...
Once his cock was let loose from his boxers you lazily played with it in your hand to get the blood pumping. He was heavy, and his member bent at an angle once he was completely hard. Thinking about having this inside you... It made you salivate more.
Lewd noises slipped from your lips once you finally fit your mouth over his cock. You took a moment to take in the feeling of him pressing into your throat, a moan slipped out. The drool escaping your mouth made it easier to move up and down. While you worked, your free hand played with his balls. They were stiff and heavy. It really has been a while since you've both fooled around.
You pulled back to give his cock head a hard suck like he was a candy. He pulled out all the way for you to tongue at his slit, tasting his bitter cum already beginning to flow out in a steady drip. Guess it didn't take much nowadays to get him going. You could remember the good days when he could use you for hours on end... Sigh, but it was nice and domestic to be able to grow older with him. He turned into quite a foxy dad.
"You seemed to be enjoying yourself... Why'd you stop?"
"Hm? Oh, I was just thinking about the old days, twenty something years ago when we were doing this in your dad's car." You winked and added a flirty kiss to his dick, which made a nice smack when it hit your lips. More kisses were placed on his dick, each adding more tongue than the last, until you were picking down the underside of him. You added more kisses to his balls before starting to suck on them. Your hand meanwhile took your place on his cock and started pumping him at an unforgiving pace. You felt him suddenly hump into your hand slightly with a choked grown but he settled himself quickly. Jotaro sighed heavily, and you saw him comb through his jet black hair, knocking off his hat to tumble somewhere behind the seat.
"Mmmmm, you like that? Want me to jerk you off more? Want me to go faster?"
Only your hand did the opposite, and slowed down to a painful pace. He growled down at you, showing his pearly whites off. "I'd rather have your mouth back on my dick so I didn't have to hear you bitch."
"We both know you love hearing my voice, honey bun."
Jotaro voiced his famous tic, and you felt him haphazardly pull over to the side of the road and put the car in park. Then his hand came down to your hair and forced more of himself down your throat.
"Less talk, finish what you've started."
His heavy hand did a sloppy job of guiding you up and down but you didn't care, you wanted to taste his load already. Your head was getting fuzzy again... No more quips, you wanted him to cum already.
It didn't take any longer, one final good fuck into your mouth and your husband choked you with his thick load. In only a moment your mouth was already filled with his cumshot, and you were forced to pull away before he could suffocate you. You guzzled down whatever was already in your mouth and watched the rest froth at his cocks tip, pooling to his pants and ruining the print. Jotaro meanwhile fell back into his seat, slumped a little, breathing a tad heavy. After licking your lips (and maybe his length) clean, you gave him a soft little peck on his cheek and began to feel at his shoulder massaging away the rest of his tension.
"Love you, you big hunk. Remember to let me help, so you don't end up stressing yourself sick again."
Jotaro was still taking his deep breaths, but he nodded in understanding, and gave you your own kiss.
"Jolyne doesn't blame you for any of this... So let's go see her. We've been keeping her waiting for long enough."
"...Right." Jotaro fixed his pants, and twisted to get his hat off the floor of the car. He dusted it off before placing it back on his head and starting the car again. Everything was more lax now, he even let you turn on some soft jazz now. You were buckled back up, still staring at your beautiful husband.
"Have I ever told you how sexy you look without your hat?"
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poppyixjgetable 3 days ago
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a-gal-with-taste 4 months ago
In Your Dreams
(Sequel to Tired)
Summary: "So... what? Is this you trying to tame me?" Your sarcastic comment only earned a raised brow, and after a beat, a hum.
"Now, why would I want to do a thing like that..." Leaning down close from above you, you are soon close enought to realize, that he has small, miniscule flecks of actual green in his natural eye, which peers down at you lazily, but entirely fixated as he murmurs, "... when it's so much more rewarding to rile you up?"
WC: 3.4 K, (Silco X F!Reader)
Warnings: SFW, but steamy. Language, brief dirty-talk, power-dynamics, boss/employee relationship, rough kissing, praising, body-worship, slight possessiveness, light manhandling/groping, also y'all are definitely going to yell at me, but I ain't sorry ;^P
With the sounds of thrashing, one would be forgiven to think that the two were in the middle of a heated, hateful brawl. Honestly, with a sneer fixed on your face, and the way you all but lunge to him between breaths, Silco himself wonders if he should feel concern that you might tear his throat out...
Your teeth do find his neck, but they leave bruising instead of blood. Any offhand worry of an attack is quelled, especially when your hands are working furiously at the clasps of his vest. It's clear you have no regard for his apparel, for the kingpin swears your nails are ripping through the dark leather to get at the golden-buckles.
"My, my... aren't you wild?"
His chuckle is swallowed by yet another slam of your mouth onto his, and the vest is half-frantically shouldered off, an impaitent grunt sounding when the strap catches on a cufflink. He has to furiously shake it off to-let crumble uncaringly to the ground. Arm wounds tight around your waist with nails digging around to your hip, as you let out a moan into his dark grin. His other palm finds the surface of the door from behind you, all but slamming it open for the two of you to stumble in.
Now it actually feels like a battle.
Though not one of hate and bloodlust - lustful, yes, but the sight of the bed causes another willful burst to take over your body. Your movements and grip now bruising, Silco finds himself laughing on your tongue when you tighten fingers on his belt-loops, trying to turn him around to shove him back-first onto the bed.
Oh, you're spirited, yes, and that alone could be enough of an advantage to get away with it; with your attempt to wrest a sense of dominance for yourself, while in Silco's own domain.
Admirable, and bold. But unfortunately, you forgot to account for the fact that the Eye of Zaun was impaitent.
You are able to bounce once on the rather comfortable mattress beneath you, before you quickly work to prop yourself up on your elbows. It's an instant, but an instant too late, as he's on you just as quickly. Pinning your thighs, then hips in place with his knees as your hands flash up and try to grab at him as he moves up and over your body.
"Eager now, are we? Funny..." Fingers were captured where they had been yanking his shirt from it's tucked position. The room was dim enough that light blended seamlessly into shadows, but his bright normal eye, and burning-red seemed to glow almost sunlike in the darkness. Watching you pant for breath with hands twitching as Silco smoothly interlocked your fingers with his, there was a glimmer of mirth in the green and black, mixed-crimson depths as he continued, "...last I remembered, you seemed to be more eager to run, than to do anything else. I can't lie to you, I'm afraid I am rather pleased by this new show of enthusiasm."
"Fuck you," You grumbled, and the blue-green eye became a slit. The almost-sweet handholding between the two of you ended, fingers sliding from between your own to lock around your wrists and hook on tight. Silco's hands became the shackles that pinned your hands to either side of your head, pressing them deep into the cushy sheets and mattress beneath you.
Jaw dropped and gapping at the sudden movements, you instinctively yanked and pulled at the grip locked around you, suddenly only now privy to the realization that you were completely vulnerable. Vulnerable, pinned, and trapped beneath the most powerful crimelord in all of Zaun, whose entire scope of attention was on you during your sudden bout of struggles.
"Oh please, don't stop on my account," Silco's tone was almost bored, calling out the bluff of your struggles, even as your legs kicked out once behind him. Safely out of striking-reach, but it was the thought that counted. "Keep wearing your self out. It's a good waste of time, and I think it only helps the two of us out in the end."
As if on cue, your body flopped back down entirely, chest heaving slightly for a breath as you scowled up at him. It wasn't heated though, and he noted this with a quirk of his eyebrow as you grumbled, almost peevishly, "Not seeing how this is helping us out."
"Consitering our last meeting ended with us... perhaps, going a bit fast," The admittance made you blink. "... resulting in your rapid exit and quite the headache, I feel that progress is more easily achieved when one takes their time."
The scarred side of his lips twitch, and there's something almost playful in the way his thumb swipes over your pulse-point. "Unfortunately, I don't think you know the meaning of slowing-down. Or if you do, you fail to understand how to exercise restraint."
"So... what? Is this you trying to tame me?" Your sarcastic comment only earned a raised brow, and after a beat, a hum. You felt the pads of his fingers actually having the nerve to tap against your wrists in thought, but any attempt to lurch beneath the man only earned a warning squeeze on the pinned-hands, and a low-chuckle in accompaniment.
"Now, why would I want to do a thing like that..." Leaning down close from above you, you are soon close enough for your air-supply to practically come entirely from his own mouth; and you realize, that he has small, miniscule flecks of actual green in his natural eye, which peers down at you lazily, but still entirely fixated as Silco murmurs, "... when it's so much more rewarding to rile you up?"
A sudden breath being sucked through your teeth as you feel the man shifting slightly over your body, lowering just enough that he could comfortably rest partially over your body. Silco receives no order to remove himself from you, and so closes the gap as you continue to stare up at him. Heavy breathing catching when his chest presses to yours, with gazes holding for only a heartbeat longer and then Silco tilts his head just as his nose brushes against yours.
Breath hitches suddenly at the feel of lips pressing almost delicately on your cheekbone. The thought of Silco doing anything delicate would make you cackle at the outrageousness of the image, in any other situation, but here, your own lips can only part wordlessly as he repeats the action.
"You are truly a fierce thing," The murmur vibrates against your skin, your tongue feeling dry as he traces the contour of your cheek. "Wild, truly. Even now, every nerve is sharp with fight, with passion..." A firmer press, just beneath the hollow of your eye, and you felt your lashes flicker close as a silent sigh hushed from your mouth.
Or perhaps not as silent as you thought, because you felt his lips freeze in place for several heartbeats. "... you indeed have no idea what you do to me, do you?"
"Oh... I could guess."
Another vibration along your skin, and you felt that damnable thumb rubbing slow circles onto the joint in your wrist as his lips trailed. Moving to give the other half of your face similar treatment, you shuddered at his words, and the faintest drag of his teeth along his skin as he spoke between unimaginably slow, intimate kisses to your skin.
"The moment I saw you, I knew I was looking at something truly ferocious. Unbroken, despite all the world can do in order to do so... every time I saw you, I knew I was witnessing something truly wild, fierce, strong... it's stunning, really. You, are stunning."
It was silly for Silco to claim that you had reinvented these concepts for him - the Eye of Zaun knew full-well you were born and bred on the streets, and these characteristics were far from rare with your breed...
Still. You had never, in all your life, been described as stunning before, and hearing him breathe the word so reverently, made your body shift beneath his own, and your chest jump a beat, before you managed to find your voice.
"Y..." You swallowed back the stutter the moment you felt it on your tongue, praying he didn't notice. Silco was paused above you though, so you made sure to say each ford as slow and carefully as possible, to avoid something as mortifying as a voice-crack. "You... could've said something. Why didn't you say s-something, fuck..." A rumble deep in his chest after he pulled the sputter from your collected-words.
"Oh, believe me, if I knew something as simple as kisses could bring you squirming beneath me... or how long it would take for you to read between the damn lines, I would've done something much, much sooner..."
The press of his hands over your wrists tightened at your sudden squirm, and Silco pulled back to watch you, smirk fading into surprise. Pressing your cheek firmly into the mattress beneath you, you were biting hard on your bottom lip as you gave him a stony glare out of the corner of your eye, to prevent from... that sound slipping out again.
Your glare was a terrifying thing, but this image was ruined by the dark blush that had immediately filled your face.
And combined with the echo of that sound, Silco found himself only blinking once, before a pure, evil grin crossed his face.
Giving you no time to prepare or quickly turn your head to attempt to block, that keen, that mewl slipped from your mouth yet again, when his lips closed around your earlobe. You felt the faintest hint of chipped teeth nip at the very edge of your, surprisingly to you and him, extremely sensitive skin and you desperately tried to hold in another whine at the sensuality.
"I adore watching you prove to be more feral than any other Zaunite I've seen... but I could get used to this," His voice rasped gently against your ear, but you were not free from the truly diabolical assault on your hypersensitive, as Silco, the bastard, actually blew a brief bit of air past. Your skin burst into goosebumps as you openly squirmed beneath him with a groan, and he was equally open with his amused laughter at the sight. "... this, is something I would love to bring you back to. Again, and again, and again... I doubt you've had many opportunities to fall apart. I'll be ecstatic to help start making up the difference."
"I always thought a rough, quick fuck would leave you crawling back for me," The kingpin admitted in a whisper that was far too casual next to your ear, as his mouth finally took pity to start peppering the uppermost of your jawline while you sucked in a breath. "But wouldn't you love more of this? Me, making you come apart at the very seams from the smallest of touches? Faintest of words? I admit, I never imagined you as one for soft, nice things in the bedroom... but I suppose a good girl such as yourself deserves to be pampered, after being headstrong for so many years."
You knew Silco wasn't a good person. Productive, goal-oriented and passionate, he was even insistent on getting to his goals one way or another. You have never had a problem with how he decided to conduct his business - despite his neverending nagging over the years, you'd come to appreciate how relentlessly Silco worked to achieve his goals...
Now? You hated his fucking guts for how he was pulling out all-the-stops, in working to turn you into utter putty in his hands. And you loathed him deeply, with how, in two single words, he was closer than ever to succeeding.
"Whatever, however you want it, I would do it for you." The Eye of Zaun breathed, transferring both wrists to cross just atop your head, holding them in place with an unyielding grip of one hand. The other began to stroke down the side of your body, tracing every curve and dip while causing shivers to race through your entire form. With a tiny, helpless gasp, you pressed your head back, exposing your neck as his lips continued their assault between words.
"Hard, fast. Slow, sweet... However you want it. I could make you into my own, personal whore or I could raise you up to be my wild, stunning Queen. At my side, either way."
"Either w-way," You panted, letting out a whimper as you pushed your skull back, feeling his nose brushing your jawline as Silco started suckling a dark purple mark onto your neck. "... s-sounds like I'm all... fuckin' yours."
"And I would be yours."
It's a confession you would normally burst-out laughing at, for the clich猫ness, ridiculousness and particularly because it's Silco saying it. But he sounds so casual, so honest about it, and all the while he's nipping at your skin with the devilish nature his voice is lacking...
"You have no idea, how long I've wanted you to be mine," He rasped against the hollow of your throat. Shushing you as you whined from the feel of him, another firm, reassuring squeeze on your pinned wrists was soon followed by his tongue tracing up your jugular. You groaned needingly, arching your back up and whine even louder as his hand slips beneath you to pull your body even closer, heaving chest to his.
"No idea." A firm repeat is accompanied by his lips finally pressing sternly to your mouth, as if in chastising for your impatience, or taking out some frustration from his own. Desperately, you open your mouth to deepen the touch, but Silco leaves you chasing as he pulls his head back. Hand finally releasing your wrists to smooth down the side of your face, he cups his palm beneath your chin like he had done to kiss you for the first time.
The touch is impossibly softer now. Like it's not even real.
His eyes are bright. Impossibly bright, and you feel yourself squinting as his murmurs become more and more distant, "And I think it's in your best interest, not to keep me waiting much longer... or yourself."
With that, your eyes shot open with a gasp and you sat straight up, alone, in your own bed. A quick glance around proved several things; you were half-tangled in a net of sheets and blankets, pillows were askew both on your mattress and floor, and your damn curtains had been cracked just enough, for the day-store across from your apartment to awaken you with the flash of it's sign lights.
Forcing you from... that dream.
For the third night, in a fucking row.
It was absurd, you privately fumed with yourself, how much of a routine it was becoming. Jerk-awake, work for a minimum of five, embarrassing minutes to free yourself from the self-imposed entrapment of blankets, before stumbling into the apartment bathroom to splash cold, cold water onto your face.
Water dribbling off your hair and trickling down the sides of your face, you gave a death-glare to your reflection in the mirror.
Then you glanced up at the mirror-flipped image of a fading, purple splotch on your forehead, and swore tiredly as you grabbed the tube of lotion off the counter next to the sink. It was supposed to help minimize the coloring, and walking around with a straight-purple mark adorning your forehead...
You nearly slapped yourself, when you distantly thought about if Silco had a tube of this as well. You really were exhausted, from restless and interrupted sleeping, to be thinking about something as silly as whether or not your boss was doing alright...
"Stop, fucking stop it right there..." You growled to yourself as you massaged your fingertips into the bruised skin, supressing a wince at the tenderness as you started to pace along the floor.
Si-... he, was becoming an issue. Consuming your thoughts at night, now during the day, and you haven't even seen the man since you earned this mark on your forehead, and had given him it's twin.
The memory of the headbutt you had given to the Eye of Zaun, the ruling crimelord of the Undercity, and the unofficial King of Zaun, made your face not only colored in purple, but in a dark blush as well.
Not just for that memory, but also what exactly preluded the decision to slam your head to his.
The hottest, feralist of make-outs you'd ever had in your life, and the subject of your nocturnal thoughts as you stayed cooped up in your apartment. Half as an escape to recover and gather your thoughts, and also to wait for the inevitable in a place that brought you some comfort. The fact that Si- The Industrialist had kissed you wasn't a bother. As stated, it was hot, and obviously wouldn't be the subject of your slumbering-fantasies if it was a mediocre round of smooching.
It didn't even bother you that much, about the fact that it had initially seemed to come out of nowhere. The more you mentally reviewed it, his actions over the months, years of your employment, had always been underlined with... something. Not exactly tension, but it it was always hovering in the space, air between you too. Growing stronger with every passing day, you had always assumed it was something negative, something to be weary off, and avoid...
And, well, after your reaction at The Last Drop, you supposed you had a reason to be weary. But avoid?
'Don't keep me waiting much longer... or yourself.'
Damn it.
Could you avoid this much longer?
Logistically, no. Even if Si... yes, Silco, wasn't fuming at your stunt from three nights ago, you knew it would be impossible to step out of your apartment and do anything, without being 'invited' to an audience. And he would have full right to do so, not only as your employer, but also as the injured party.
Realistically, also no. Your rent was due by the end of the week, and unfortunately, payment was a direct hand-out at the base. Meaning unless you wanted to take your chances, and see if the years of comfort and stability hadn't worn down your natural street-instincts, you would need to go back to the club to get your wages. This might also put you in some sense of good-grace, as you would prove to have enough pride left in you to return to The Last Drop on your own two feet, instead of waiting for Sevika to kick the door and drag you into an awaiting carriage.
She would do it. Oh yes, she would indeed do it, and even if your contract wasn't already terminated, Sevika would not go easy on you as a fellow or ex-employee.
But those weren't the real questions. The real, honest question was... could you avoid it much longer?
This tension? The incident? The kisses, those damned dreams...?
The fact that, maybe, you hadn't loathing Silco as much as you thought you had been over the years? And the fact that, apparently, he had never loathed you at all?
Could you avoid answering those questions, or going out and figuring out for yourself, for much longer?
'Don't keep me waiting much longer... or yourself.'
"Damn it," You growled underbreath, resisting the urge to face-palm. "Damn it." You couldn't. You knew you couldn't; be it out of curiosity, logistics, realism, the total obsession your sleeping-mind seemed to have over the makeout session, or a million other reasons, you knew you couldn't keep avoiding it.
You knew, that you just couldn't wait much longer.
With that in mind, there was a single intake of breath, before you reaching up to smooth and work off the cold droplets of water from your face and hair. Shaking off the dreams from your mind as the water feel from you, you marched over to your dresser to start getting ready.
For your return, your private meeting, and whatever the hell was going to be the outcome of all three with Silco.
Unsurprisingly, despite the early-hour and the past days of interrupted, and rather busy sleeping, energy was coursing though your body as you got ready to go face what came next:
And you realized, despite it all, you weren't feeling even the least bit tired anymore. You were going to face Silco, not in your dreams, but wide-awake.
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actressinyourbaddream9 29 days ago
Steamy (Loki Catches You Stepping Out Of The Shower)
I flick off the facet, reaching for my towel. I pat my hand along the towel bar, then peep out. It's nowhere in sight. Closing the curtain shut, I cross my arms. I can't say here forever...
I poke my head out again, this time spotting Loki. He's gingerly wiping off the countertop...with my towel.
"Hey, sweetheart," he flashes me an innocent smile.
"Can I have that back?" I try.
Loki just shakes his head. I know how this is gonna end.
I open the curtain just a tad, which Loki takes as an invitation. His arms circle around me, face buried in my neck. I lean my head back, arching my spin a bit, and press into him.
Our body's tucked together, mine sopping wet, he kiss travels up to my lips. Loki advances, my heart rate increasing rapidly. I shiver, as he presses me up against the wall. One wrist pinned above my head, the other roaming through his hair. I trail my fingers down his face, and drag them along his torso.
Breathing me in, he's distracted. Out of focus. I let my hand fall, and reach behind me, fumbling for the lever. I flick it on and the water rains down.
Loki pulls back and I smirk.
"Got you now," I say triumphantly.
"Oh, you're gonna pay for that."
Loki doesn't want to admit how impressed he is by my antics, so I let it slid. It's particularly because he's started, well...er- I'm not to keen the share.
Soon enough the waters been tapped off and I'm being carried off to bed, my legs around him. How does this even come off... Who wears armor in the house, anyway? It was absurd, and so Loki.
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Thanks for reading!
Authors note
I love writing in this style. This kinda flirty, steamy vibe is fun, without going over the top. If you want more like this, leave a like! (also, I do requests. Just haven't gotten one yet.)
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jordanemb a month ago
speechless - loki
summary: you and loki attend tony stark鈥檚 gala together聽
loki x fem!reader
warnings: cursing, implied sexual scene
"Well well, darling," Loki said looking at you from the top of the stairs, "You look ravishing,"
"Don't I always?" You asked him, playfully grinning.
"Yes but tonight, just... wow," He told you with a look of pure lust in his eyes.
You and Loki were about to leave your house to go to one of Tony's fundraiser parties for Stark Industries. As much as you and Loki hated going to these parties, Tony insisted that you guys went to try to make up for your villainous pasts. In reality, you both knew that Tony wanted you guys there to attract press, but it made the Avengers happy so, how much harm could it really do?
"Is THE Loki Laufeyson speechless?" you smirked up at him.
"Any man would be speechless if they saw you like this, darling."
"Well, I guess we will find out soon enough. We need to go my love, or else we will be late,"
"No," Loki said, "You are not going out like that. You look too sexy and that is reserved for me and me only."
"Babe, we don't have time. Come on, let's GO!" you said while grabbing Loki's arm and basically dragging him out of the door.
The limo ride had been a very long, awkward one with Loki staring at you mostly your chest, longing was evident in his face.
"As flattering as you are, my face is up here," you say.
"Darling, I'm not an imbecile, I am simply just admiring you," he replied.
"Yeah, well, you can do that later tonight. Anyways, we are here, let's go. Need I remind you to behave?"
"Where's the fun in that, my love?"
You and Loki take the elevator in Stark towers, all the way up to the rooftop where the party was being held.
As you step out of the elevator, you immediately feel everyone's gaze land on you.
You look over to Natasha who is looking you up and down with a grin. You then turn to look in front of you and see Loki's older brother, Thor, making his way towards you.
"Here we go," Loki said under his breath while squeezing your hand.
"Ah, hello, little brother," said Thor in his arrogant voice. He then turned to you and immediately stared down your chest.
"My face is up here, big boy," you say while snapping your fingers up at his face.
"What do you want, brother," Loki said with a distasteful tone on the word brother.
"I am here to support Tony in his fundraising. Anyways, Y/n," he said, turning to you, "Why are you here with my brother when you could be here with me, the God of Thunder?"
"As enticing as that sounds, Loki has more of a personality than you would ever have,"
"What is that supposed to mean-" he asked, looking offended.
"It means you're boring, brother," Loki interrupted, "Come, Y/n," Loki said turning to you, "Let's go get some drinks and mingle around for a bit,"
"I would love nothing more," you say, smirking up at him.
You and Loki walk up to the bar to get drinks.
"One tequila, please," Loki asked, giving his most charming smile to the woman bartender.
"Of course," she said, batting her eyelashes at him. "What about her?" she asked, still looking at him.
"I can speak for myself, thank you very much," you told the woman, who was obviously interested in Loki.
"That's my girl," Loki whispered in your ear.
"Okay, then, what would you like?" the bartender said with an obvious tone of disgust.
"Nothing," you said, smiling sweetly at the bartender.
"Well, I'll just get that tequila," she said, walking away.
"Come, my love, we don't need to waste any more time with her," Loki said while grabbing your waist and leading you towards Tony.
You and Loki made your way across the rooftop, everyone watching the both of you. The men captivated by your appearance and the women captivated by Loki's.
"Welcome, Reindeer Games," Tony said to Loki.
"Don't call me that, Stark,"
"Yeah, yeah," Tony said rolling his eyes, turning his head towards you.
"Well, hello, Miss Y/l/n," He said, smirking at you.
"Hello, Tony," you said to him.
"How are you liking the party?" he asked.
"Dreadful, as usual, we're leaving soon anyways," Loki said, cutting into the conversation.
"Aww, but you guys just got here," Said Bucky Barnes, walking up behind Tony.
He looked at you then did a double take. You could see his facial expression change into complete lust.
You smirked at him then turned to Loki and pulled him down for a suave kiss.
You looked back up at Bucky and saw him looking at Loki in jealousy. It was just too easy for you. Making all of the men at this party jealous.
"Well, Mr. Barnes, Loki and I both know that we would have more fun at home then we ever would here," you smirked while squeezing Loki's hand.
"Maybe I could change that?" said Bucky arrogantly.
"And that is our cue to leave. I would say it was fun, Stark, but I don't want to lie. Come, darling, we have better things to do," Loki said, grabbing your lower waist and leading you out.
You could obviously tell that Loki was jealous of Bucky and most likely, Stark.
Why wouldn't he be? They are both attractive, successful men. They are the "good guys" and literally fight against crime. What he didn't know, though, was that you were completely intoxicated by Loki. Wherever he went, you followed and wherever you went, he followed. You guys were soulmates. You didn't know it yet, but you were.
"We're home, my love," Loki said, waking you up from your nap in the limo. He gave you a gentle kiss on your head and led you upstairs.
"Now," he started, leading you to your bed, "This is where we will really have fun,"
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thoughtfullyrainynightmare 3 months ago
Okay, so a friend said that one of Nacht鈥檚 spells was called聽鈥淒oppelg盲nger鈥 in the spoilers, so... I got inspired to write Nacht, with a聽鈥渓ook alike Nacht鈥, and reader, smut.聽
A/N: The spell only apparently applies to the bokken, and not Nacht himself in canon, but... I won鈥檛 take criticism for writing Nacht x reader x Nacht smut, because聽鈥渢here鈥檚 no way there couldn鈥檛 be a another Nacht鈥. It鈥檚 magic and it鈥檚 fanfic; have some Nacht smut
Pairing: Nacht x f!reader
Genre: smut, NSFW;聽minors DNI
Fanfic type: Oneshot
Length: ~1.7k
Warnings: Threesome, double penetration, fingering, mention of cervix fucking, no mention of protection and thus implied unprotected sex, intercourse, the third party is a figment made with Nacht鈥檚 own magic
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His eyes, like ice, or the clearest blue sky of midday that you had ever seen, glimmered in the faint light of the room. They seemed almost bright, almost, but were veiled with a sense of constraint, abstinence, not quite yet daring; a constructed sense of virtue. But still, those eyes were the one thing that you saw in the soft light that surrounded you. They were so filled with care, and lust, and yearning that reached right down to his soul. There was a need, like he was thirsty beyond belief, and only your kiss might quench it.
Or perhaps he was almost drowning, by the sight of how his eyes seemed drowsy, flickering between your eyes and the pull of gravity; of wanting to trail down.
Down, down, down鈥 to your neck, to your chest鈥 stomach鈥 lower鈥 thighs鈥 All of it. He wanted to drink, all of it; to run his tongue over your skin.
But his eyes averted. Because, no. He couldn鈥檛. Such hungry, lustful, sinful thoughts were not to be had in your company, even if it was his hands holding onto you, caressing your cheeks. His hands cupped your face, and his thumbs鈥 stroked your skin. The movement was careful, soft, like silk, while his breathing was like taffeta, heavier, sturdier, and yet it glided over you with a caress.
鈥淐an I?鈥 He finally uttered, swallowing, almost like scolding himself for not being able to restrain himself for longer. As if it had been such a crime, just an extension of his days of youth when he had been nothing but a scoundrel, to want you; you, who he had time and time again declared to love with every bit of his tainted soul that he had to give.
All because he, still, didn鈥檛 deem himself good enough for you, to be worthy of you.
鈥淵es鈥︹ you uttered, swallowing yourself, and licking your lips without noticing.
But he did. He noticed how your lips now glimmered in that faint light of the room.
So delicious. Forbidden. Though only because he deemed it so; because he was so full of sin, and you were the only good thing in his life. And yet鈥 he wanted it. He craved for it. He needed it! He needed to press his body against you and just let his hands roam around your form to pull you closer, and closer, and closer, in an effort to send you a bit closer to the high heavens as he鈥 would come down that high, to lift your soul, consciousness back up.
His lips enveloped yours, his tongue, running over your lips already with the hunger of a starving man, begging, pleading for entrance.
And you let him. You granted it to him, parting your lips just enough for him to slip his tongue inside of your mouth as his hands travelled. One settled to your lower back, as the other stayed in front, but glided down鈥 His fingers graced your neck, sending shivers down your spine. But it settled onto your breast, giving it a squeeze.
You squeaked, not quite yet expecting it.
鈥淭oo much?鈥 He asked, his lips pressed against your temple; the words rolling down your complexion with the warmth and care that he was blind to, but was like a blazing sun to you. Clear as day.
鈥淣o鈥 nothing鈥檚 too much, if it鈥檚 you鈥︹
The utterance, the silken, soft words that you spoke in the confines of your shared bedroom, made his eyes glimmer again. But this time, the spark, the lust and the hunger, was laced with a hint of something more, an idea of the former scoundrel that now had real sin, tainting his hands.
鈥淣othing鈥?鈥 He asked, to which you, against all ration as he looked at you like that, replied with a nod.
The corners of his mouth tugged up into a slight, small, devilishly delicious smile that made him look practically beastly. He looked hungry, no longer thirsty, starving.
His grimoire fluttered open, gathering shadows from the corners of the room until you felt something behind your back. Something鈥 or鈥 someone... But before you managed to turn your head around to look what was the spell about, you saw another pair of hands wrapping around you.
鈥淒on鈥檛 be frightened鈥︹ he spoke, his voice ringing as an echo, as another him, placed his head onto your shoulder.
Your eyes shifted between him and him鈥 The Nacht in front of you, and behind you, both looking at you with those gleaming eyes, full of hunger; starvation.
鈥淪ay if it鈥檚 too much鈥︹ they spoke in unison, as he, behind you, began undressing you, and the Nacht in front of you stood up.
His hands landed onto the top of his pants, tracing the top of it, to the buckles. He began undoing them as his eyes stayed on you, looking, watching as his other form undressed you in front of him. He watched as his other form, a figmentation of his shadows, reached down, his fingers playing with your clit.
You felt his lips against your neck, planting kisses onto it as he dipped a finger inside of you. The sturdy digit began pumping inside of you鈥 in and out, as his thumb pressed against your sensitive bundle.
Nacht dropped his pants to reveal his already erect cock, the veins of which seemed so prominent, and kneeled in front of you. His breathing felt so hot against your lower set of lips, and his eyes, for a fraction of a second it was as if he was mesmerized by the sight of fingers pumping in and out of you. But just as you were about to ask him to stop staring, he closed his eyes, and licked your juices.
His tongue felt rough, and the way it swirled, as if trying to compete against the fingers of his other form. And it made you throw your head back, exposing your neck wide open to his lips.
You felt his shadow self, run his tongue over you. His lips sucked the tender flesh of your neck, and the other him, the real him, pulled you closer as he plunged his tongue inside of you, swirling it around in an effort to gather every ounce of your sweet nectar.
鈥淣-nacht鈥︹ you whimpered. 鈥淧lease鈥︹
He stopped. Both of them. And again, those eyes turned to him, looking, inspecting, glimmering in that soft, faint light.
鈥淥f course鈥︹ he promised, climbing up the length of your body, trailing kisses on the way up until he was faced with you again.
His other self, ran his hands over your thighs, as if giving reassurance of what you were to receive.
There was a small peck onto your lips, one that was a confirmation, asking if he could; to which you nodded.
You parted your lips, but before you could get a word out, the tip of his cock was pressed against your entrance, and he plunged it inside of you, dragging a long moan from you as he did so. You could feel each of those veins, pulsating, throbbing, spreading your walls apart.
鈥淚 wonder鈥︹ he spoke, out of breath, murmuring against your skin as he pulled back, only to rock his hips into you again. 鈥淚f you could take both of us鈥︹
鈥淲ha-鈥 you managed, lifting your head slightly as his shadow self, lifted you up, legs wide open, the few inches that were necessary, as Nacht mirrored those movements to keep himself buried in your core.
鈥淚 wonder if you could take both of us鈥︹ he repeated as the cock of his other self, behind you, placed the tip of his cock at the entrance of your other hole.
You blinked, looking at him, at that devilish glimmer in his eyes as he just鈥 watched you. His gaze was locked with yours, but it wasn鈥檛 until you nodded again, that his other self lowered you down, spreading you wider apart than you could feel yourself ever having been.
鈥淣-nacht! I-鈥 You moaned, throwing your head back again as your back arched against the chest of his other self.
He pushed in, moaning your name against your ear. The other Nacht, pushed in, the two members rubbing against you simultaneously.
There was a wave of warmth that rushed over you, which made you feel light. They pushed in again, and again, and again, increasing the pace with every thrust, until they were pounding into you.
You opened your mouth to gasp for air, as your walls clenched around him, trying to suck him in. Every thrust he made against your cervix, made you want to-, try to-, just-, hold onto him-, and 鈥y god how good it felt. There it was-, just a little鈥 bit more and you鈥檇鈥 A little-, the pace at which he was-, thrusting into you made you鈥 loose your sense of self. A wave, a rush of light made you see stars.
He made a final push. And his other self disappeared, but you didn鈥檛 fall or falter, because he, the real him, had a strong hold of you. His arms pulled you into an embrace as he lowered you both down onto the bed.
Your chest was heaving as you were coming down from the high, the stars and the high heavens, fading from your vision, leaving only him. His thumb drew circles onto your skin, as his embrace grew just a little tighter, just to make sure that you were still there.
鈥淎re you鈥 alright?鈥 He asked, having again lost the memory of his old, scoundrel ways.
A smile spread over your lips with the question, hearing the love and care in his voice. 鈥淵eah鈥︹ you whispered with a smile, as you listened to the sound of his breathing, and felt the beating of his heart; the song his soul sang, only for you.
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panoramanda 7 months ago
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Some steamy bakudeku
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